​The voice of the dark was as creaky
as the roof of the house, and as smooth and
cold as the windows, and even though the dark
was right next to Laszlo, the
voice seemed very far away.
                                                                 from The Dark
                                                             by Lemony Snicket
                                                       illustrated by Jon Klassen
                                              Little, Brown, and Company, 2013
 
       No monsters hid under my bed when I was small. They weren’t in the closet, either. I was not afraid of the dark, then. I’m not afraid of the dark, now. I actually like the quiet, stillness of early mornings. I wait as long as I can to snap on the light. It blares out, “Rest is over! Get to work!”
       Here in the Northern Hemisphere, Winter will begin on December 21, when the sun will shine directly over the Tropic of Capricorn. In my part of Ohio, the sun will rise at 7:44 and set at 4:57, giving us just short of 15 hours of darkness.
       Lots of expressions revolve around darkness, most of them equating darkness with something evil or frightening. If we are in the dark, we don’t understand. When we take a shot in the dark, we depend on luck to reach our goals. A dark horse is an unlikely winner. Whistling in the dark is hoping for an improbable result.
       Sometimes people are suspicious of darkness: black cats, the darkness before dawn, secrets. The darkness in our souls or hearts is never good. Joseph Conrad wrote a whole book about that. We shine a light on a subject to learn more about it, or bring it into sharper focus, to understand it better.
       When Martin Luther King said, “Only in the darkness can you see the stars,” he implied that only if we are in a place of suffering can we find our way out. This is helpful, indeed, but, for me, a little negative.
       Anne Frank said, “Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness.” Perception is important, here. She was in probably the darkest place on Earth during our planet’s darkest hours. But she remained positive. Only when we define our problems, can we work toward solutions. I think working toward our goals is the key to optimism.
       This time of year, we light candles to stave off darkness. Chanukah candles, Christmas lights, the Kinara of Kwanzaa.
       I will light my candles because it is my tradition. I will enjoy their beauty, shining in their darkness.
       But I will also enjoy my quiet time on dark, Winter mornings, before I get to work.
                                                                   --stay curious!
       

But there was a problem:
Now that Martha could talk, there was no stopping her.
She said exactly what was on her mind.
She made embarrassing comments.
And, she always told the truth.
Occasionally she wondered why her family was often mad at her.
But she kept on talking.
                                                           from Martha Speaks
                                   written and illustrated by Susan Meddaugh
                                               Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992
 
       Okay, I know. Martha (quoted above) is a dog who ate alphabet soup. The letters went to her brain, not her stomach, rearranged themselves, and Martha talked. She said exactly what was on her mind.
       It is not always a good idea to say what is on your mind. Protecting someone’s feelings is a reason. Avoiding embarrassing situations, maybe.
       It depends on the situation.
       Once, yes, only once, my mom washed my mouth out with soap. Mom marched my little self into the bathroom, put me on the closed toilet seat, picked up the bar of Ivory, and told me to open up. If she was as surprised as I was, she never let on. It seems so out of her character, that I have a hard time trusting my memory.
       But I know it happened.
       I was very young. I don’t remember what I said. Maybe a swear word. Maybe I repeated some bathroom talk. I would have been made to apologize if I had hurt someone’s feelings or embarrassed anyone with a comment.
       Mom had bat-ears. She could hear the newspaper rustle two rooms away and know my dad had fallen asleep in his chair. Again.
       One time, years after the soap incident, I was getting ready for school. I was in High School by now and didn’t always say things in the most polite way. I was usually very careful around Mom, though.
       I don’t remember exactly *why* I said what I said, but I know I said it. The “s” word. Apparently I had not muttered it under my breath.
       Mom called up from the bottom of the steps, “I heard something coming out of your room!”
​       I panicked. A mouse? A squirrel? Surely she couldn’t hear a centipede. Our house was plagued with them every spring.
       “What?”  I screamed.
       “A word I never want to hear coming out of your mouth again!”
       I almost collapsed with relief. Only a word. I vowed to be more careful around my mother.
 
       Fact is, my mom taught me to be careful with my words. Not only to use proper grammar. She was a stickler about that, and I thank her almost every day.
       She taught me that words are powerful things. She taught me that talking about a problem is the first step toward solving it. And she taught me that finding solutions can be messy.
       Words are tools. When big people in high places get hurt, it is not only because we use our words. It is because others can know what really happened.
       When we use our words carefully, truthfully, and kindly we can move mountains.
                                                                   --stay curious!

     They whiz through the atmosphere.
     The space shuttle releases its rockets and before they know it, they’re in deep, dark, incredible space.
                                                                 from: Astronaut
                                                    written by Lucy M. Goerge
                                                         llustrated by Ando Twin
                                                            QEB Publishers, 2016
 
       I never wanted to be an astronaut. Lots of kids did, though. It was the 1960s after all and the Space Race was in full gear. I don’t think it had anything to do with the outfits or the dried food. I’m okay in closed places, but maybe not for weeks (or months) on end. I’m awed by the view from high places.
       Maybe it was the math. Or all those time zones.
       Lots of brave and adventurous kids grew up to astronauts: John Glenn, Sally Ride, Neil Armstrong, Judith Resnick, for example.
       Now we have an International Space Station. I last wrote about the ISS in January, 2016 (The Impossible Dream). Another launch is scheduled for December 8, so I thought I’d revisit.
       Six astronauts are aboard doing research, three Americans, two Russians, and an Italian. The crew is studying how to grow plants and had a successful Thanksgiving harvest of cabbage, lettuce, and mizuna (an Asian green). When space missions are longer, astronauts will need to grow their own food. Learning how plants react to microgravity is important.
       Will that help me next Spring when I put out my Leaf and Romaine? Maybe not in an actual sense, but feeling connected to Outer Space, something much bigger than me, helps me find perspective in these “crazy” times at home on Earth.
       The astronauts are studying weather and electronics. They’re studying the effects of microgravity on muscle-loss. They’re studying how to protect low-flying satellites from radiation.
       And they’re running out of essentials. A SpaceX rocket will deliver 2.5 tons of supplies and equipment, including fiber optics. You can view the launch on line (if you can’t get to NASA by this Friday). https://www.kennedyspacecenter.com/launches-and-events/events-calendar/see-a-rocket-launch
       You can find the ISS as it orbits over you on this schedule: https://spotthestation.nasa.gov/sightings/view.cfm?country=United_States&region=Ohio&city=Boardman#.WiZqh0qnHIU
       So I’m asking myself, “Why am I more interested in space now than I was when I was young?”
       I think it has to do with perspective and taking the long view of what is important. Siri, OKGoogle, and Cortana calculate answers fast, but can’t reason out why I like yellow more than gray or why bananas are repulsive.
       Some things just are. I know that. But I like to wonder. Why? What if. . .? What happens when. . .? In Outer Space, there are more questions than answers. Brave scientists are searching. I admire that.
       One day soon, I’ll talk about Tesla, Musk, and SpaceX. I wish them well on their last launch of the year.
                                                                   --stay curious!