At last 
Dad says it’s 
time for us 
to pick 
cherries.

We’re 
going
to make
a pie!
                                                 from Pie in the Sky!
                               written and illustrated by Lois Ehlert
                                                       Harcourt, 2004
    I always wondered if the Japanese gifted the United States with cherry trees to replace the tree young George Washington famously chopped down. The short answer is “no.” The longer answer is “it’s complicated.”
    Turns out the story is, well, just that, a story made up by a traveling minister and bookseller, Mason Locke Weems. After Washington’s death in 1799, the public was hungry for information about his life. Weems wrote the cherry tree story, but did not include it until the fifth edition of his extremely popular biography. A minister, after all, Weems included the story to illustrate honesty, one of Washington’s “Great Virtues.” 
    The marketing aspect was not lost on him either. He knew if he wrote a popular book, it would have a high sales volume. “Weems knew what the public wanted to read, and as a result of his success he is considered one of the fathers of popular history.” www.mountvernon.org 
    Many years later, William Holmes McGuffey re-wrote the tale as a children’s story and included it in his series of Eclectic Readers. 
    The story has endured for more than 200 years and is a tribute to good story-telling and the high value we Americans place on telling the truth. (The irony is not lost on me. I take exception with the values of our former president and his ardent followers.)
    The real story of Washington’s cherry trees winds through our history. It begins with Eliza Scidmore, the c is silent. Among her many accomplishments, Eliza successfully convinced the United States Government to plant cherry trees in the barren land surrounding the Capitol.
    In 1885, Eliza traveled to Japan to visit her brother. She was smitten with the people and the beauty of the land. She wanted more than anything to plant the beautiful cherry trees she saw there around the Tidal Basin surrounding the Capitol in Washington DC. Her idea was rejected when she presented it in 1885, and time after time for 24 years.
    David Fairchild, a prominent horticulturist and botanist, was an official in the US Department of Agriculture. In 1906, he imported 100 cherry trees to test their viability in the Maryland environment, especially around his home in Chevy Chase. A year later the experiment was a confirmed success. Two years later, to celebrate Arbor Day, Fairchild gave saplings to children in the Washington DC school district to plant in their school yards. He closed his Arbor Day speech with the announcement of his wish to transform the Tidal Basin into a “Field of Cherries.”
    Eliza Scidmore had found her advocate. She immediately began a fund-raising campaign to purchase trees and donate them to the city. She appealed to First Lady Helen Taft. Mrs. Taft, who was very familiar with the beautiful cherry trees, responded by assuring Eliza that she was promised the trees and would like to “make an avenue of them.” 
    The day after she wrote Eliza of her plan, Dr. Jokichi Takamine, a Japanese chemist, asked if Mrs. Taft would accept a donation of 2,000 more trees to fill in the area. Since he was in New York visiting the Japanese consul at the time, the deal was quickly made. The mayor of Tokyo agreed, too, and the trees were on their way.
    In December 1910, two thousand trees arrived in Seattle and one month later they arrived in Washington DC.
    A few days after their arrival, an inspection team from the Department of Agriculture discovered the trees were diseased and infested with insects. To protect American growers, the trees had to be destroyed. About a dozen affected trees were set aside for study. The rest were burned. All parties, East and West, were disappointed but determined and Tokyo’s mayor approved another shipment. This time they sent 3,020 trees in 12 different varieties.
    On March 27, 1912, two trees were planted, one each, by Mrs. Taft and the wife of the Japanese Ambassador. Those two trees still stand where they were planted and are marked by a large bronze plaque. Between 1913 and 1920, workers planted cherry trees of the other 11 varieties. 
    Throughout the years, cherry trees continue to be planted. Grafts are taken and grown to ensure the lineage of the original trees. 
    In 1982, when a river flooded in Japan and destroyed an embankment of Yoshino cherry trees, Japanese horticulturists collected about 800 cuttings from the Tidal Basin trees to help restore their flooded grove. 
    In Japan, the cherry tree has become a symbol of restoration and renewal. Even though the beautiful blooms last only a short time, the beautiful memory has staying power. Since 1927, (except for the years of WWII) the annual Cherry Blossom Festival is a continual a celebration of friendship between the two countries. 
    Even though the trees in Washington DC do not bear edible fruit, they have borne a lasting friendship between allies which remains strong. 
                   -—stay curious! (and treasure your friendships)

    By spreading her flower seeds far and wide, the Ogress grew a field of flowers that increased every year. The bees increased along with them. The more the Ogress gave, the more she had. This magic was everywhere.
                                 from The Ogress and the Orphans
                                                       by Kelly Barnhill
                  Algonquin Young Readers/Algonquin Books, 2022

    Mom and Dad were not rich, that is in the money sense. We always had what we needed, even though maybe not always what we wanted. I haven’t checked with my brother or sister, but I suspect they would agree that we never felt deprived of material needs.
    We were taught that it is better to give than receive, and that’s a hard lesson for a little kid. We learned that when you point a finger at someone else, three fingers point back at you. 
    Mom liked to tell us that if we asked for something, we wouldn’t get it, especially when we went to the grocery store. That kinda kept us from asking for cookies, candy, and every other kind of goody. I always wondered how she’d know what we wanted if we didn’t tell her, then remind her a few more times. But usually, she did.
    When we were growing up, Daddy went to work, and Mom paid the bills. It’s just what they did. I don’t remember anyone talking about “enough” or “not this week” (or month). Those conversations didn’t involve us kids.   
    When I grew up, no one was talking about abundance vs. scarcity, the theory of reciprocity, or even gratitude. 
    In 1968, a book review of The Discovery of Abundance: Simon N. Patten and the Transformation of Social Theory, reviewer Joseph Dorfman pointed to an advisor of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, R. G. Tugwell. As the New Deal got under way, Tugwell said, “the people and the government must realize that the nation had long passed from a ‘deficit’ economy to a ‘surplus’ economy.” The terms surplus and deficit, used this way point even further back, to Simon N. Patten (1852 - 1922), a well-respected professor of economics at the University of Pennsylvania. 
    But it wasn’t until The Discovery of Abundance was published in 1967, that Patten’s theory of abundance bumped a little closer into main stream sociology and popular economics. Then in 2013, Robin Wall Kimmerer published Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants. She combines the theory of abundance with the theory of reciprocity to explain how all the parts of the world are connected to each other. Her surprise of a blockbuster book showed everyone who read it the importance of giving back, especially to Nature. 
    In today’s quote, the Ogress has a reciprocal relationship with the bees. She uses their honey and wax, and gives back seeds which grow into the flowers the bees need for nectar. 
    I think the whole world is like that.
    I enjoy birdsong and return the favor by keeping their feeder full.
    Even though (or maybe especially because) I don’t save their seeds to replant, I always thank my tomato plants (and parsley, basil, and chives) before I harvest. I nurture the plants. I amend their soil with compost, which is its own form of reciprocity. I pull out their competition (weeds), and make sure they have enough to drink. They give me, well, they give me themselves.
    Being in reciprocity with Nature comes from an internal belief in abundance. Maybe Robin Kimmerer said it best. Here are a few quotes from Braiding Sweetgrass.  

• “In some Native languages the term for plants translates to those who take care of us.” 
• “Action on behalf of life transforms. . .As we work to heal the earth, the earth heals us.” 
• “Ask permission before taking. Abide by the answer. Take only what you need. Take only that which is given.”
• “This is really why I made my daughters learn to garden—so they would always have a mother to love them, long after I am gone.”
• “I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift.” 

    Bravery comes from an Italian word that translates to bold. The word courage is related to coeur, the French word for heart. 
    It takes courage, for sure, to foster the attitude of abundance and to practice reciprocity. As I have said before in this space, (12/7/21) “Courage is the ability to feel fear, but act bravely anyway.” Many of us hold onto an idea of scarcity. We might run out of oil, clean water, or clean air. We might not have enough money. 
    It takes courage to trust. To trust in the Truth of reciprocity. We can create abundance by giving back to Earth, giving kind words, and doing kind acts for each other, and forgiving ourselves for our own limits.
                           -—stay curious! (and promote positivity)

When I collected this stuff, I didn’t know if I’d submit it all, but sometimes you need to hear a lot of points of view to get the whole story. Journalists have to pay attention to things like that.
                                                        from Breakout
                                                       by Kate Messner
                                                       Bloomsbury, 2018
    I came home and enrolled in my local Community College after my first quarter of Sophomore year at a small university. I volunteered to write for their fledgling newspaper. It’s called Tri-C Times, now, but back then it was less than glossy and not as comprehensive. Even though I was an English major, I had never taken a journalism course and decided it would be a good idea. One of our first assignments was to interview someone we found interesting. It could be a family member, friend, or someone we did not know. The written article did not need to be lengthy, but it was supposed to be thorough.
    I made mine up. It was pure fiction, not even based on someone real and my teacher did not appreciate my creativity. 
    I did not do well in that class, but was assigned weekly editorials for the young paper, opinion pieces, as everyone knows, but based on verifiable and reliable sources. Even that long ago, I wrote about garbage and the importance of recycling (which was a pretty new idea). 
    Although I enjoy many different styles of writing including non-fiction, I’ve never been drawn to journalism. It has to do with the way the information is gathered, not in reporting it. I sensed interviews and steered clear.
    Journalism, like any good piece of non-fiction, reports facts. It is “the collection and editing of news for presentation through the media. It is reporting characterized by a direct presentation of facts or description of events without an attempt at interpretation.” merriam-webster.com 
    Journalism depends on a free press, “a body of book publishers, news media, etc., not controlled or restricted by government censorship in political or ideological matters.” dictionary.com  Since newspapers and news magazines, TV and radio stations are not owned by the government, their journalists are not restricted in their reporting. 
    An informed listener or reader can usually identify the direction a particular outlet leans. Although the best reporters strive for balanced articles by sharing true statements with their audience, many others skew across the spectrum from raging right to unlimited left. Here's a chart prepared by Ad Fontes Media, a news literacy company. Charts like these are becoming more and more popular. It’s helpful to see “your” source’s reliability score and see where it lands on the left to right bias spectrum.
    I like to believe that we all want to know that the news we hear and read is true. But undisclosed bias is real and unless a journalist’s sources are listed or referred to or identified, it’s difficult to tell if what we’re reading is true. That’s where Media Bias Charts are helpful. 
    You can find a list of fake news websites on Wikipedia  (not my favorite source, but it’s much better that it was at its beginning). 
    And there’s confirmation bias. We tend to process those articles that match what we already think is true. We are more likely to remember (and repeat) information that is consistent with our beliefs and forget or ignore information that is not.
    Confirmation bias is dangerous when people discredit the science showing the efficacy of vaccines, or try to disprove that we are in a climate catastrophe, or claim our elections are unfair and full of fraud. 
    It is a difficult task to purposely seek an argument that disproves our own biases. It feels like holding two opposite ideas in your mind at the same time. A good place to start is to ask why you believe a certain “fact” is true. An honest answer is hard to find, but probably very reliable.
    That’s why fake news is so long-lasting.
    The purposeful use of lies, half-truths, and rumors to influence public opinion, or promote a particular political cause is propaganda. 
    Propaganda is a form of disinformation. Lies are spread to gain political power. Hate speech drives fear. Rumors foment anger. Propaganda causes harm on purpose. The person spreading propaganda knows it is false and wants to deceive their audience usually to gain power or status, or both.
    Misinformation is told by someone who’s spreading a mistake. The intent of the person telling the story is to inform their audience. The information is incorrect, even though the person telling it really believes it is true. Examples abound. Earth is flat. The climate is not changing. President Biden lost the 2020 election. Misinformation can and often does cause harm, but that is not its purpose.
    Confirmation bias is one way misinformation and disinformation make stories so sticky, so long-lasting, even in the face of reliable evidence like science and eye-witnesses.
    In today’s Russia, calling Putin’s “special military operation” in Ukraine a war or an invasion can land the teller a fifteen year jail sentence. 
    A free press is the backbone to a working democracy.
                         -—stay curious! (and check your sources)

I do not know how many miles Storm and I ran together. Eight, ten, perhaps twelve thousand miles. He was one of the first dogs and taught me the most and as we worked together he came to know me better than perhaps even my own family. He could look once at my shoulders and tell how I was feeling, tell how far we were to run, how fast we had to run—knew it all.
                                                    from: Woodsong
                                           written by Gary Paulsen
                              illustrations by: Ruth Wright Paulsen
            Bradbury Press/Macmillan Publishing Company, 1990
    
    This past Saturday, March 6, 2022, forty-nine mushers and their teams of about 16 dogs each took to the 1,049 mile Iditarod Trail from Anchorage to Nome, Alaska. Those who complete the race from first place through 20th, will get a percentage of the final purse, this year at least $500,000.00. The first place percentage, of course, is higher and decreases until the 20th place. Those who finish successfully after 20th place will receive $1,049.00, the customary prize. 
    You might wonder about the significance of the prize money and the distance of the race itself. The actual mileage from Anchorage to Nome is about 1,000 miles. The extra 49 miles were added to honor the entrance of Alaska as our 49th state. The extra miles include a southern route, run in odd years, and a northern route in the even. Here's a link to the Trail map.
    The journal entry in today’s quote is from author Gary Paulsen’s book Woodsong. He kept that journal for his 1983 race which he finished in 17 days; 41st place out of 54 teams.                 
    To run a team in the Iditarod, you must submit proof that you’ve completed at least two races of 300 miles each and one race of 150 miles. Paperwork regarding good health and humane treatment of the dogs, a list of sponsors, and the entry fee is also required.
    To keep the finances in perspective, this year the early entry fee of $4,000.00 increased to $8,000.00 for those who registered after November 30, 2021. Add equipment for the dogs and the musher: travel costs, pre-race vet checks, sled maintenance costs, harnesses, booties for the dogs, dog food, musher food, fur hood ruff, headlamps, goggles, dog coats and leg protectors and you can expect a reasonable estimate of $8,000.00 more.
    Inspired by a life or death mission to deliver anti-diphtheria medicine to Nome, Alaska, in 1925, the race always begins on the first Saturday of March. The first Iditarod began on March 3, 1973. 
    That year, John Schultz earned a red lantern (kind of a booby prize) for his slowest time: 32 days, 15 hours, nine minutes and one second, a record that still holds. 
    The quickest time was Dick Mackey’s 14 days, 18 hours, 52 minutes and 24 seconds. That record has held since 1978. 
    Even though it's popular to think the race is over when the first musher crosses the finish line with their team, the Iditarod is not over until the last musher has reached Nome and is off the trail. A lamp called a Widow’s lamp is lit in Nome at the start of the race and hung at the finish line. When the last team crosses the finish line and leaves the trail, the lamp is extinguished and the race is officially over. 
    As a safety measure, the dogs are microchipped. They also wear tags with their musher’s bib number and a letter. According to iditarod.com, “The dog collar and microchip is rechecked each time the dog is moved along his/her trip [back] to Anchorage. Once in Anchorage, the information is checked by the crew that will transport the dogs to the Eagle River Correctional Institute where a group of inmates care for them until the mushers’ handlers arrive to take them home. The prisons also have a copy of the paperwork and a microchip reader. Each dog is rechecked when picked up to insure the correct dog is released to the handler.”
    My own relationship with animals goes back pretty far, even though we were not allowed to have pets with fur. Mom and Dad told us it had to do with walking, cleaning up, and the generally huge responsibility of caring for something totally dependent on us (read them).
    As I grew up, I suspected it had something to do with the heartbreak my mom experienced when my grandma sent Mom’s dog off to war. Mom was 18 years old at the start of the Second World War, and Blackie had been a true and loyal friend since he was a pup. When the call for volunteer dogs was sent up from the U.S. Army, Grandma answered with Blackie. 
    He didn’t come home.
    So we had a series of short-lived, unnamed goldfish and longer-lived turtles, all named Oscar, the later ones with Roman numerals after their names, Oscar II, III, IV and so on. I’m not sure how many Oscars are in the ground behind the house where we grew up and I don’t know why we named them all Oscar. 
    But no dogs.
    I’m a cat person. I’ve shared my life with fifteen cats, so far. Two are still in my care. Except for getting their own food and cleaning their potty, they are independent. Neither one likes to play very much. They’re content with a little lap time and some ear scratching.
    They don’t like snow. They don’t like long treks in inclement weather. They don’t like wearing booties. Tristan didn’t mind getting dressed up, though. He wore a little polka-dotted tie for special occasions. 
    Needless to say, I won’t be running races with or without a dog, and especially not with a cat. But the weather in northern Ohio is slowly getting warm enough for a leisurely walk to the library. 
                                             stay curious! (and  warm)

    I … give Emmy one more glance, just in time to see her stick her tongue out at me. I try to suppress a giggle, but it comes out all snorty, and Emmy starts snickering. Halla joins in, and we’re a mess. Even Mr. Jordanson can’t stop us at that moment.
                         from: Greetings from Witness Protection!
                                                           by Jake Burt
               Feiwel and Friends/Macmillan Publishing Group, 2017

    I used to think being a Children’s Librarian was the funnest (an acceptable use of “fun” as an adjective macmillandictionary.com) job anyone could have. But, what if you could be a laughter scientist? People like Sophie Scott, a neuroscientist at University College London and Robert Provine, a laughter researcher, do just that.
    According to Sophie, we use laughter to express emotion. It’s much more effective than a verbal explanation. Think about that for a minute and you’ll know what I mean. As a matter of fact, people the world over interpret laughter as being spontaneous or communicative. Different parts of our brains light up when we hear someone, probably a friend, in the midst of an uncontrolled belly laugh, than when we hear someone’s controlled, polite laugh. In the second instance, the parts of our brains that light up involve communication. We’re looking for meaning in the laughter. In the first instance, it is the area that creates and maintains relationships that lights up. 
    All people all over the world are really good at making that distinction. Laughter, it turns out, is just as universal as music.
    Each person’s laugh is as distinct as their sneeze. (I’m still working on using the singular they-1/18/22) What do you think of when you hear the words guffaw, chortle, giggle, snicker, titter? Who makes those sounds when they laugh like that? We need so many words for laughter to distinguish laughter’s many uses. 
    And just like yawns, laughter, for better or worse, is contagious. I took my almost grown daughters to see The Secret Garden when the movie was released in 1993. It was my mom’s favorite book and I read it to the girls when they were young. The story is heartwarming and the movie has some very touching moments. At the very end, when Colin shows his father how well he is, mostly due to his friendship with Mary Lennox, people all around us started sniffling. When I began to search for a kleenex for my younger daughter, my older daughter caught my eye. She chortled and tried to swallow it. That was enough to set me off and my younger daughter, too. We tried to control our fit, but the sniffling sounds were too much. We laughed as quietly as we could. Not at the movie. Not at the emotional people. 
    We laughed to express the bond we felt with each other. Inappropriate laughter? Oh, yeah. Could we help it? Oh, no. Sophie Scott says we are more likely to “catch” laughter from someone we know well than someone we hardly know at all. We did, and our bonds deepened.
    Hearty and deep laughter is healthy. We expel lots of stale air when we exhale huge guffaws and belly-laughs. We push out the stale air and make room for fresh air to reach deep into our lungs. Most of us ordinarily use about 25 percent of our lung capacity. But not when we laugh!
    Oxygen moves through our respiratory system to retard the aging of human cells. It helps relieve headaches, fatigue, and stress. Oxygen boosts the immune system and purifies the blood by removing the toxic wastes in the blood stream.
    Laughter is a Yoga practice. By breathing deeply and exhaling forcefully, we can concentrate on our breath and move to a meditative and spiritual place. Laughter can physically improve our lung function, lift our mood, and increase our ability to focus.
    But what about tickling? Is it good or bad or just tickling? Here are a couple positive comments I found. Charles Darwin called tickling a mechanism of social bonding. And, science shows we burn calories when we laugh. Laughing for 10 to 15 minutes a day could result in losing about four pounds in a year. So, don’t give up your gym membership (as long as you’re vaccinated, boosted, wear a mask, maintain social distance, and clean your hands thoroughly and often).
    We associate tickling with laughter, good times, and closeness between the tickler and the ticklee. There’s nothing as glorious as the sound of a baby’s raucous laughter. Some kids like it. Some grown-ups do, too. And some really don’t. Tickling can be a little scary, especially if the person being tickled has no say in when the tickling stops. Or if they can’t catch their breath. In different periods of our history, tickling was used as a form of torture. People were sometimes tickled to death. Tickle with caution, and permission.            
    You can’t tickle yourself. Tickling is your brain’s response to a surprising stimulus. It’s true. My feet are very ticklish. If I try to tickle them, I feel the sensation, but it doesn’t make me laugh.
    Then there is the nervous laughter I couldn’t seem to control when I was an angsty teen. Familiar comments included, “Wipe that smirk off your face.” And “Oh! You think that’s funny?” Of course, I did not.
    And how about the evil laughter of villains who want to control the universe? Bwha-ha-ha! Or the Wicked Witch of the West who cackled warnings to Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz?
    Laughter communicates more than language can. It fosters understanding among strangers and acquaintances and cements relationships between friends and loved ones.  
    So meet up with friends and family and belly-laugh, guffaw, and bellow. You’ll all be glad you did!
                  -—stay curious! (and laugh as often as you can)