Tree in Bryce Canyon

Tree in Bryce Canyon
Originally uploaded by skron.

I did take this picture a few days ago. Bryce Canyon has to rate as one of the world's most beautiful places. More on how I spent my summer vacation (officially over next week) in later posts.
For now, I hope you enjoy the picture.

Greek plant

 

MeSsedTuP

MeSsedTuP is a humorous take on my previous academic training. Actually the acronym is MSTP which stands for Medical Scientist Training Program. We also used to say it stands for Maybe Someday To Practice. Today's theme has nothing to do with the above pictures. They refer to how I am spending my summer vacation. And my new-found ability to download two pictures to my blog at a time. Of course, I still haven't figured out how to move them around the page.

To begin (again). Well, around a century or two ago when I was young and idealistic, I had the honor of being accepted to the MSTP program. The MSTP is a federally funded program designed to create Medical Scientists. The theory is that students complete both an M.D. and a Ph.D. (somewhat) concurrently and therefore become ideally placed to become cutting edge medical researchers.

And why am I on a rant about something that I started in 1983 and finished in 1992? Because I have run into some interesting Blogs by women in science. Some are completing Ph.D.'s and some are junior faculty. I wish them all luck. And I admire their Blogging acumen. I have linked to two (another new Blog skill) but there are more out there worthy of attention.

The interesting thing is that I'm not sure I am a "woman in science" anymore. For me the "Maybe Someday To Practice" is descriptive of my current career choice. My work life since 1983 has gone more or less as follows: Ph.D. (basic science), M.D., postdoctoral fellowship (bio-medical), residency, medical fellowship, academic position, private hospital position, academic position, private practice. If my thesis advisor knew what I do for a living now, I think he would feel all his hard work wasted. But what about all my hard work? Was it wasted?

The answers depend on how you look at it. See, being a woman in science, I also have to listen to the old biological clock ticking away (in direct conflict to any potential tenure clock). Somehow I managed to squeeze into the above list, marriage (Ph.D.), first child (M.D.), spend time with first child before intern year (postdoctoral fellowship), see child on days when not on call (internship and residency), second child(fellowship, no more in-house call), raise a family and earn a living (all jobs since). Job number three made me decide against potential child number three--fatigue factor was too daunting.

Oh, by the way spouse is a "man in science"--now why does no one ever use that phrase? He managed his Ph.D. before marriage, skipped the M.D. and now has tenure. I am not trying to imply that he hasn't pulled his own weight (solo parenting while wife away on 24 hour call and zombie next day). I only bring it up here to point out how complicated it gets sometimes.

Anyhow, I'll leave you with this cliff-hanger ending. It's dinner time and I figure no one will read this Blog if it gets too long. Next installment, how I got out of science and into humanity. . . .

Mushrooms and fungi and slugs, oh my!!

Dorothy, we're not in Tuscany any more! Since the last time I blogged, I have returned home to Chicago, worked for a month and climbed back on a plane to Seattle. One can infer from this that I do not blog during work weeks and that I travel a lot. So what do slugs have to do with this?

Today, I am posting from the Pacific Northwest coast near Pacific Beach, Washington. This is a marked contrast to the beaches of Italy. For one, it is not hot, there are no crowds, no beach umbrellas and one is more likely to see a banana slug than a topless woman sunning herself. (I deny all responsibility for that free association). Fortunately the banana slug was willing to pose for a picture.

As I walked back from the beach today, I thought of naming today's blog, "This land is my land. . ." Not that I claim ownership. More that it owns me. These are the beaches that I grew up on. The water is numbingly cold and it is nearly impossible to get a tan. But I feel a sense of belonging on these beaches.

As a child, I used to backpack near here. At night we would camp on the beach and listen to the waves and the foghorn. During the days we would explore the sea stacks, climb on the piles of driftwood logs and look for agates and sea shells. One of my favorite memories is of finding a floating log in a small creek flowing into the ocean and spending much of a day poling it around.

Sometimes sharing these places and experiences with my own children makes me feel closer to this land. Other times I realize how far away I have moved. Today I learned that my younger son is afraid of kelp. How can that be? I guess we do not have kelp in Lake Michigan. I suppose kelp is a little slimy (but not compared to the above-mentioned slug), but it does have its charms. Did you know that you can make a pipe out of a large piece of kelp and blow on it like a ram's horn? Smaller kelp are fun to pop, like bubble wrap.

As elsewhere, sometimes people manage to spoil paradise. Some 15 miles from here is Ocean Shores. This is a small town with an incredibly long sandy beach. Since the beach is open to vehicles, from motor bikes to SUV's to campers, it more resembles the parking lots outside Disneyland than a chance to commune with nature. If any kelp are left on this beach, they have surely all been popped.

So don't come visit here, unless you plan on walking softly and parking well away from the beach. And bring a jacket and rain gear. You likely will need it.

Until next time. 

Belated posting of July 1 Blog--Kea Island, Greece

July 1, 2006
Blogging from Kea, Greece
Blog me once shame on you, . . . .

I don’t even remember how many days since my last entry. I believe I wrote late one night around three days ago, perhaps our second in Athens. That one I was able to post directly on the internet unlike tonight. Today is Saturday. It is hard to remember what day it is when nothing important but one’s departure date punctuates the routine. There aren’t even any shopping or tourist attractions to be (inevitably) closed to make you mark the day or date. This is one of the virtues of being on an island relatively far from civilization. Of course this particular island’s records of civilization go back many thousands of years as we found out on our run through the small local museum. As my Green Guide says, “Kea’s history goes back to the earliest times, as evidenced by the remains of numerous settlements.” It still feels rather far off the beaten track.
Kea is no Mykonos or Santorini. This is the point. Although there are hotels and tourists here, many of the tourists are Greek families, like our hosts, who have chosen to build vacation homes on the island. There are not too many of these either but there is abundant evidence of more going up. I hope that it is a universal truth that all construction work is subject to numerous delays. (What comes inexplicably to mind is Chicago’s Millennium Park which was finished several years after the new millennium arrived).
I was moderately disappointed by my first glimpses of Kea. It is not like the photos I have seen of Greek islands. In my mind’s eye, I see tiers of whitewashed buildings with bougainvillea vines and people sipping (?) ouzo in tavernas. In reality, our ferry arrived at a small, unremarkable port (see photo).
The surrounding countryside is dry and brown. There are few trees and the bushes are small and scrubby. From up close they are mostly adorned by thorns. There are some magnificent thistle plants—they look more thorny than their American counterparts. Only a well defended goat would eat these. There are some sage-like plants with purple flowers and cultivated oleander here and there.
We disembarked from our ferry and gathered our gear. Our first stop was a bakery for bread and a cheese pie (to forestall adolescent starvation). Then a stop for eggs—locally produced and served up un-cartoned and loose in a plastic bag. The trip to our home for the weekend was over a dirt road at times overlooking the blue Mediterranean and times over inhospitable looking hills. The hills are terraced and we inquire why. Apparently subsistence agriculture has largely been abandoned as have the terraced fields. Fires occur often enough that there is little forestation. Stone walls mark property lines and small square stone sheds seem to provide shelter for the goats (none are visible). In fact in three days on Kea, I have seen no goats except for the one we ate for lunch today (apparently a true Kean goat), and only one cow. The primary crop appears to be stone which is plentiful. I could use some of this stone at my house in Chicago where it would have to be trucked in from a quarry for a substantial price.
The only wild animals other than birds that I’ve seen are the feral cats. I’m sure there are more but they are not readily visible to the eye. The main wild-life if such they can be called are the insects and arachnids. The spiders are of ferocious dimensions. Even their webs seem to be of industrial strength. Extra large spiders bring out the arachnophobia in me. On the one hike I take through the scrub, I wave a large stick in front of me which scares a number of also monstrously large grasshoppers. Fortunately, I have no fear of grasshoppers. I am glad there are no locals nearby to see me. The only thing worse than being the stereotypic ugly American is being the stereotypic crazy American.
Our house is at the end of a dirt road. Before we arrive at the house we see a small cove with a few beach umbrellas. There are one or two families on the beach. Our hosts say that on the weekends there are up to fifty cars at this cove but now it seems blissfully empty. The house itself overlooks the ocean and the Greek mainland. It is of modern construction but uses the local stone. In spite of its isolation it seems to have all the modern conveniences including a dishwasher, washer dryer, three bathrooms and air conditioning. Life could be worse. After we unpack we have to decide between competing desires—eating or heading immediately to the beach. For me the fresh apricots and cherries win.
On our introduction to the island we inquired about natural hazards. The thorns are obvious, the spiders ugly but benign and there are no poisonous snakes. Our host tells us that in ten years on the island he has not seen any jellyfish in the waters. My older son heads down to the beach first, apparently less seduced by the cherries than by the water. Unfortunately, he therefore becomes the one to discover that this is the exceptional year for jellyfish. He returns from his brief trip to the beach announcing that he has been stung by a jellyfish. He shows three long parallel raised welts on his forearm. They definitely look like they hurt. J. is a trooper and does not complain too much. We apply some mysterious Greek ointments and some of the pain goes but the marks remain for weeks. Good thing we didn’t need to test out the home remedy of urinating on jellyfish stings!
Well, now I have discovered how to add one photo to Blogger, thanks to Picasa, I'm going to have to learn how to add on a few more. Oh, the challenges of technology.

Kea photo

This is a picture of the main town on the Cyclades island of Kea. It is also my best effort at getting a photo to appear on Blogger. So it is in no particular order in time. In fact this picture was taken about 10 days ago. We were very fortunate to be hosted on Kea by an old college friend of my husband who is Greek and now owns a vacation home on the island. Kea is far less touristy than the islands of Mykonos and Santorini which is one of the attractions to folks from Athens and other parts of the Greek mainland.
The other nice thing that has happened tonight besides my learning the interface between Picasa and Blogger is that I can do this sitting outside of the farmhouse that we are staying in outside of Lucca. What a treat. I wish I could do this for the rest of the summer but next week it is back to home and work. Maybe my wireless will at least allow me to sit outside of my house in the U.S. and blog (at least until the weather gets too cold.)
Well bedtime for now. More photos to follow. 

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