Category Archives: rural

How To Find Relief in the Face of Certain Misery

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THINK OF THE TICKS!

Given the increasingly maddening state of global affairs, the New Climate rollercoaster, plus whatever you’re going through personally, I imagine that Dear Reader is somewhat terrified. Or, at the least, dismayed. Bewildered?

I get it, and offer here some tips. My own life a basketful of paralyzing worries on a daily basis, I’ve had to actively endeavor not to go crackers. So I consider myself, if sadly, an expert at digging myself out of the hole. Here’s this. Hope it not silly pablum, but something of use.

Help where you can. Then: There are so many terrible things happening on earth — all being reported in exquisite detail — we simply must turn down the volume. Decide against reading past a panic-inducing headline even if it kills you. Turn off some alerts – or people. Turn off your notifications and tune in to Tight Pants Dance Party on Pandora (Pandora’s free, if you can stand the occasional ads) and go scrub the bathtub. Then get in?

Ah yes, real physical exercise, as much as you can muster. That and getting in water just kick the stuffing out of anxiety. You’ll sleep better. What, you’re not getting good sleep? Haha! Who is? I want to meet these people. What is their secret? Oh wait, they lack empathy. Goody for them.

When this world is alarming, check out and go to other worlds. If you can afford it, travel. Meditation (always free on the excellent Insight Timer app), contemplative prayer, lovely scenery set to music on Youtube (a superb use of drones), napping, forest bathing, earthing, swimming, reading spiritual books or those with happy endings…I’m doing all those things, plus watching pro tennis (I enjoy the inaudible muttering) and — of course — the Olympics. You have your own jones.  Fishing? Boating? Zip-lining? Drive-in movies? Go! Other worlds, I tell you.

Subscribe to good news. Thankfully, there is in fact good news out there. See a list of IG recommendations at the end of this column.

Dear Reader may have a physical situation exacerbating your outlook. Who needs that? Low thyroid, blood sugar, and hormonal issues can wreak havoc. See a doctor or alternative medicine practitioner recommended by someone you actually know. Try something new, like reiki, EMDR, hypnotism – could intrigue and boost. At the least, distract!

Laugh out loud. I saw a book at the annual Barnard Fire & Rescue tag sale, Bread Machine Magic. Others laughed heartily at their own finds. Mere laughter makes others laugh.

Make music or art. Dust off that accordion or your vocal cords … get craft supplies at your local purveyor … take a class … and steep yourself in sane-making pleasures.

Don’t be too hard on yourself. A kind friend recently said I was too hard on myself. My unspoken reaction was, “Our parents were hard on us, so that makes sense.” The last thing you need when things are difficult is you being your own adversary.

Spend some money, by crikey. We’ve all become so tight-fisted that I think it’s making us contract physically and spiritually. Eat out! Get something you’ve badly needed for months or years (yes, the price went up, and it’s not going down). Or just some frippery that elevates you. Buy a gift for someone worse off than you. And I don’t mean on the Amazon. Post-COVID Burl, post-flood Montpelier, and your very own town can use the biz — and uplift. Watch the proprietor’s face light right up. Customers! By buying something, you’re gifting to your friend or self an object or service, and the gifts of cheer and hope to the seller. The world could use a whole lot more of those. Money talks. Hello, it says, I’m here for the trading.

As promised: Hot Instagram tips from lifelong friend COL.

The Dogist: He goes around NYC taking photos of people’s dogs, talking briefly to the owners.

Outta Puff Daddys: Middle-aged British dudes who formed a little dance company; it morphed into advocating for men’s mental health. So dear.

Funkanometry: Two young Canadian guys who do hip-hop type dance to all different kinds of music.

This chick named Jen I couldn’t find, who post things positive every day, as she says at the end, apparently.

Dan Harris: Anchorman had a panic attack on TV, then wrote the bestseller Ten Percent Happier… like a Buddhist Zen for current times. No candy coating. He gives little snippets and then ends little each one with: “Inner peace, m—–f—–‘s“

The self-help people: Mel Robbins, Jay Shetty, many others.

The dancing and art ones. Just search.

The PS22 Chorus! Not-privileged fifth graders in NYC public school. They sing with total heart and a young, funny, energetic leader. I dare you not to cry.

Nathan Clark Wildlife… He had the coolest photos and videos of a little owl family at the top of a dead tree.

Soul Seeds for All: Uplifting nuggets. Break out the Kleenex.

Surely something up there is your bag? By all means send me your own faves. Regardless: Don’t go down without a fight! Take steps to feel UP! Then spread the wealth, as able. Good day.

Ann Aikens is an author, columnist, speaker, and blogger. Her darkly comical book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, was published in 2023, her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. See ww.uppervalleygirl.com and www.annaikens.com.

One More Day of Free eBooks OH BOY

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Snow, Mud, and Taking the Good with the Bad

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So much happs, Dear Reader, where to start? 

With snow of course. This week’s unexpected dumping was the usual: exciting, beautiful, good for some, bad for others, a source of pre-storm grocery store pandemonium, and a ton of work. Those that made it to the Maple Open House Weekend during the prior storm had a gas. People got there by foot, snowshoe, truck, or with snow tires still on their car. Yo, don’t try to keep us from our maple, Mother Nature.

A local plowing guy casually tossed off, in passing, how his rig had gone sliding sideways down a road, with him at the wheel. This reminded me of when snowboarding was brand new. My friend Harry and I were on skis at Okemo and a posse of young snowboarders flew around and past us, wicked close, like paparazzi. One ran over my skis. “Sorry,” he murmured. Harry said, “Ann, I just saw your whole life flash before my eyes.”

So I asked the plow guy if his life had flashed before his eyes. He replied, “No. I spend a lot of time in this truck. I pretty much know what it can do.” And if that’s not a Vermonty sentiment, I don’t know what is.

Because I got snowed in with shoveling to do, I had time to question the usefulness of my sad old bod, which used to shovel snow like a human windmill. Those days are gone, alas. Aging in Vermont is not easy. But then, living here offers basically a free gym membership, so there’s that.  We take the good with the bad.

Post-storm sun on the sparkling blanket of white cheers us greatly. Articles in The Atlantic and elsewhere are asking why everyone seems so down lately, when statistics are solid in the US in terms of unemployment, the stock market, interest rates, and many changes under way for the general good. One answer is that we’re all unaware of how badly COVID affected us. And as a local merchant put it, “There seems to be a general sense of malaise. I’m not young and I feel like I lost two years of my life to COVID. Plus, people started treating each other badly before that whole mess, and haven’t reverted back to good manners.” 

I couldn’t agree more. My grandparents would be appalled at the way people speak to workers in stores and restaurants, to customer service on the phone, to their neighbors, teachers, employees, bosses—you name it. 

A friend blamed social media, calling it “antisocial media.” Which is a disgrace. At times it’s like a virtual boxing ring with people slugging away at each other to no good end. Why? Why bother? Do you think the person you’re pounding is going to change their mind? Spit a tooth out and go, “Wait, Carol. By God, you’re right!” Do you think the like-minded spectators hanging onto the ropes, cheering you on, will think highly of you for more than the 4 seconds it takes to read your assault? I don’t get it, man.

Because I wrote a book, I have no choice but to be on Social. I just took a reprieve for a month – bliss! Back in it while snowed in, I found “doom scrolling” an utter chore. 

Except for … the reasons people went into there in the first place: video of a backcountry skier wearing a GoPro who happens upon a lone snowboarder literally buried alive, and frantically digs him out. What are the odds?! A monkey hears a trapped kitten’s cries and does its damnedest to rescue it from a drainpipe. Then lovingly grooms and hugs it! Interspecies love in all its forms: delicious. 

It’s ironic to me that a skier saves the life of a snowboarder and animals of all kinds care for each other on the same page as one Facebooker hammers away another (lit. or fig.). I guess we just have to, again, take the good with the bad.

There are at least four good reasons, in addition to The New Rudeness, why people are down. But if I list them, they will only distress Dear Reader. You know them anyway. They are why I avoid the news, beyond startling headlines that materialize on my phone. I’d much rather read Ski Chatter online and learn hilarious lingo, such as “beaver balls” and “death cookies.” I’d rather laugh than cry — or fight. Wouldn’t you? The Interweb: good and bad.

Shortly, Mud Season (“Mud VI”) kicks in anew. Just hoping everyone can make it to maple shacks and the other treasures that are the Good of mud season. I remain hopeful. As well might you? Good (with the bad) day.

Another Snow Oddity

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You’ll never guess what this is, so I’ll just tell you.

Years ago, a neighbor kid was practicing casting his fishing rod out in the yard. The fishing hook got caught way up, in a dead tree branch. He got his line free by yanking hard enough to break the brittle branch. Since, a little piece of that broken branch has hung from a piece of fishing line attached to a higher branch.

I do not understand the dynamics of what happened. But I do welcome unsolved mysteries in nature. Whenever I see the broken branch twirling on the invisible fishing line, seemingly hovering in the air, it cracks me up. It really cracked me up after yesterday’s storm — the snow piled high upon it, the fishing line invisible as always. I may be the only person who knows it exists. I’m definitely the one that appreciates it most.

Another Chance to Ski Vermont

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Another solid dumping, two feet expected by 2 a.m.!
Or maybe you’re a birder. Git your binos on?
If you look closely, you will see 3 birds frozen in flight — always weird.
Oddly, this photo was not converted to B&W.
Also of note: this article in The Atlantic says crows are moving to the city.

One More Day of Free eBooks OH BOY

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2 More Days for free eBook Downloads

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Again, free downloads all week at the Amazon. Use the free $0.00 eBook at upper right, not the Kindle download. Sign up for my e-list at www.annaikens.com and win a Prize! And my undying LERV.

Today is Day 1 of Free eBooks

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Yepper! Free eBooks now on the Amazon – click the $0.00 eBook on the right, not the Kindle one. A REVIEW would be welcome! Join my email list at annaikens.com and win a PRIZE. Someone will, why not you? Or come to my reading on March 21 in Norwich?

It’s All Happening at Once: NBC + Monarchs

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Night Blooming Cereus blows…3 days from now? Hard to predict.

Meanwhile, the Monarch caterpillar eggs in the ground at the base of the milkweed plants somehow survived Vermont’s flooding. The fuzzy guy is young; the juicy fatty is ready to TRANSFORM. Decided not to bring inside this year. I always miss its cocoon spinning no matter how closely I watch the thing. But it does keep them from getting eaten by birds, so I may change my mind.

But in general: aren’t things happening at once? It’s a bit much, no?

Similes, Extremes, and the Strength of Hercules

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When I’m not eating like a hog, moving like a sloth, sweating like a horse, and smelling like a goat, I’m swimming like an otter, laughing like a hyena, sleeping like a log, and smelling like a rose. Or some mixed-up combination thereof. It’s all extremes lately.

In a week’s time we have such highs and lows, no? One day it’s a crazy-good 4th of July; days later, disaster strikes. If, in Vermont, you haven’t suffered serious flood damage, you know people who have. Flooding and dam issues continue. It has us on pins and needles, drinking like fish. Our daily lives seem full of extremes.

Maybe this is partly due to COVID. We’re now positively overjoyed, in a way we weren’t prior, at simply sharing a sunset or religious service or dancing together. A party is a big deal. Dining out? Thrilling! Contrarily, with people being more forthcoming these days, we hear sad personal news like never before (diseases, suicides, overdoses). Throw in endless televised news with upsetting global stories and there is much to fret about. The highs are higher and lows more frequent, like a screwy rollercoaster.

The weather is reflecting the extremes inside us, or causing them. Both?  Initially, I dug the mad dash to close car windows for daily cloudbursts. Now it seems silly that I’d planned to stand out in the biblical downpours and get soaked.  Fun as a kid. Now: rain is scary.

Before the flood, I wrote: “How do wild animals feel about such rain? Do they just run with it? Or are the birds like, come on already, quit raining, we gotta  f l y. The fish hate droughts, but do they enjoy chronic turbulence? I envision little fish banging into rocks, mystified. Is that what divorce is like? Nothing makes any sense any more, and you’re just tossed around, blind, lost?”

Now it seems unlikely any fish survived Vermont’s waste-filled rivers. Riverside songbirds have taken off, their cover washed away.

There’s not a hell of a lot we can do for these floods except build wiser, use less fossil energy, monitor rainfall better, and help each other dig out. With terrible timing I had a bike crash right before the flood, so I can’t get that hopeful feeling you get from helping others; I can’t lift my own head. Fit as a fiddle after the Irene Flood, it was easy to roll up sleeves and dig in. The Bucket Brigade marched by in their Wellies, waders, and shorts, bailing out basements gratis. We cheered! Our young, Superhuman Heroes! Nothing beats in-person neighbors helping neighbors. Sign up at vermont.gov/volunteer.

Friend Sassy and I were discussing how, decades ago, we just felt more safe. Then I see a sign, “WARNING: Windows can be hazardous.” For God’s sake, what isn’t? We constantly learn of new hazards, with dread. Like: Do not go in brown, churning water. There is no oxygen in such water, and humans have no buoyancy as a result. A life preserver does no good; you will sink like granite. As I’m afraid did the fish.

Weather disasters, ticks, shootings, marauding bots … who feels safe? The good news is that humans default, mostly, to trust. (See Malcolm Gladwell’s dark book Talking to Strangers.) Turns out we mostly try to envision a safe world. We trust.

Electrical storms, now there we can take action. Lightning can mess you UP. Fuse your vertebrae, destroy your bone health or hearing … avoid! If you can hear thunder, you can be struck by lightning. Lightning can strike from 10 miles away. Do not go in a shower or tub during a storm. Or on a landline. Or by a window (hazardous!). Hide in bed. I do.

A friend said about The Flood, “Not sure what the damn message is.”  I have no answer. Some questions remain ever unanswered (“What’s that smell?”), others answered eventually (“It was the O-rings”). Undeserved misfortune is simply part of life, no? In Vermont we try for tiny carbon footprints. California blows us away in electric vehicles, but Vermont buys local, promotes rideshares, and wastes little. And gets punished anyway.

For now, we’re like blindfolded rats in a maze, operating on some combo of memory, ESP, and science – to repair and rebuild. Then, as humans do, buoyed by the LIFT of helping each other and an inclination towards trust, we will bounce back. Soon we’ll run like the wind, baying like hounds, having the time of our lives. Strong as an ox, maybe a blue ox. Maybe sooner than we think. 

May you rise like a Phoenix, with strength like Hercules’, helpers lifting you like angels, and your worries vanishing like a mist. Please enjoy, as able, a Good Day.