I want my granddaughters to grow up in a country that values women for their contributions to society, whether they be to keep house and raise a family, or work outside the home and keep house and raise a family. It’s interesting to me that “The Handmaid’s Tale” stands in juxtaposition to the extremes of religious zealotry at a time when religious zealotry threatens the impartiality of the Supreme Court. What would Bret Kavanaugh have women do, now that he is in a position to overturn laws that protect women’s basic privacy and reproductive rights? Will my granddaughters live their lives in a society not too far removed from the fictional Gilead? I want to see all girls and women offered the choice to live their best lives, whatever that may be. Home raising a family? Certainly a valuable way of life if that’s their choice.

I was fortunate to have the opportunity to life my life as a woman who chose to do both: raise children full time and return to the work force when they both went off to school. I chose the number of children I had, the number my husband and I could support and love without strain. Now that I am in my mid-60s, I look back on this choice and feel confident that I did the right thing for my family – with deep gratitude that I had the freedom to do so. That freedom should and must exist for all women.

My granddaughters deserve a government that stays out of their lives and lets them make those choices. Everyone’s granddaughters do.

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Frost on the Windowpane

Little Round Top, Gettysburg National Military Park, (c) 2017 Elizabeth Maginnis — Warm Weather is my Reward for a Harsh Winter!

It’s been a while since we’ve had weather as dangerously cold as this. The past two winters were mild and not terribly snowy, enabling me to walk around outdoors in sneakers most of the time. I hardly needed my boots. I got spoiled.

Saturday night, we drove home from a party in heavy snow which, as anyone who lives in the Great Lakes region knows well, is a haphazard occurrence depending on where you happen to be in any given moment. We call it “zip code snow.”

A deep, bitter air mass settled in along with the snow. No one walks their dogs in this weather. My own dogs stay outside just as long as necessary, usually for a couple of minutes and they’re ready to come in. Their winter coats keep away the cold only for a short while before they start to shiver in place.

Despite this, I wouldn’t live anywhere else in the world. This is home. Winter lasts but a few months. Sure, it seems like forever, but we are rewarded with beautiful spring times at the end of it all.

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If Pets Were in Charge of the World

Peabody Maginnis; (c) 2009, Patrick Maginnis

My husband and I have lived with dogs and cats for close to 30 years. Not just one, mind you, but several at the same time. We are suckers for a sad face.

Pets carefully guard their own territories. (Sound familiar?) Of course, having more than one pet in the house presents opportunities for personality clashes and territorial infringements. A hiss or a growl, or the occasional snapping of teeth in the general vicinity of the offender, usually resolves the issue. There, all done. Conflict over. Time to go back to more pressing matters like fur licking or bird watching.

Humans may not want to admit it, but we interact just like animals. There is your alpha human who has to be the big cheese in any situation. Men often fight over females. Females dress themselves to attract males. You can always tell who’s looking for a mate. And we certainly do protest loudly when someone challenges our territorial rights. So, why don’t we settle our differences by hissing and growling at our adversaries? The loudest and more dominant group wins, period, then everyone goes about their business.

How about we hiss at North Korea and see if they hiss back? Maybe swat at each other across a negotiating table with claws extended. Then we could all have a good laugh and go home. Better than a game of one-upmanship with nuclear weapons.

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Harvey Reveals the Best in Us

Witness Trees

Witness Trees, Gettysburg National Military Park, (c) 2017 Elizabeth A. Maginnis

What it all boils down to is this: Racial and tribal politics mean nothing in the face of human suffering. In the face of Hurricane Harvey’s devastation. Twice this week, I’ve seen photographs on my Facebook feed of white helping black, black helping white out of harm’s way during the days-long deluge. Did Vice President Pence care whether his photo op clean-up efforts helped a Democrat or a Republican? I’d like to think he did not.

We’re all people. We all need each other. The outpouring of compassion for Harvey’s victims powerfully demonstrates what love can do.

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Climate Change is my Standing Rock

Abandoned post office building, Kelso, California, August 2016, (c) 2016 Elizabeth A. Maginnis

The inspirational Eve Marko posted in her blog the other day about the origin of the term Standing Rock, which got me wondering about the nature of my own personal Standing Rock. What is mine? What is the one truth, the one cause, from which I will not yield?

The answer, for me, is climate change. And the preservation of our planet. If we do not heed the warning signs Mother Earth is sending us, she will someday become as dry and dusty and useless as this abandoned post office building that I encountered in the Mojave Desert last summer. This is our only home, people! Believe the science!

Trump’s selection of Scott Pruitt as EPA Administrator alarms me. Together, the two of them could turn back the clock and negate all the progress we’ve made. Just listen to all the good people tirelessly advocating for our future. Regulations keep rampant environmental destruction in check. They serve the greater good!

This country has become a plutocracy decimating everyone and everything opposed to its agenda of profit and gain. It’s the common man’s nightmare come true, for who will listen to us? Who will hear our small voices crying out for a leg up, a patch of earth to call our own, a chance to succeed? Land of Opportunity no longer.

I will speak out as often as I can in support of Mother Earth, for whatever my words are worth. I will send my positive thoughts and energy out to land where it will, for the greater good — and fervently hope that others do the same.

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I Have to Be the Change I Want to See in the World

Ivanpah Road, Mojave National Preserve, (c) 2016 Elizabeth A. Maginnis

As this week’s events at The Ohio State University unfolded on my television screen, my thoughts turned to the time when my young granddaughters enter college, in the not-so-distant future. Run Hide Fight. Excellent preparation, as it turns out, but it’s also hard for me not to despair that college life requires education in survival techniques.

However, I will not lament and hash over the years I was in college, when all we worried about was bad weed. The sun came up this morning (as it did the day after Donald Trump became our President-elect). I am trying mindfulness to keep myself focused on what’s in front of me, good thoughts, good energy. Despair does me no good. If I send good thoughts out to the Universe, maybe they will have a ripple effect. Is this how I can make an impact on the world?

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From Women’s Rights National Historical Park, (c) 2016 Elizabeth A. Maginnis

Yesterday, for the first time, I voted for a woman for president. We are silent no longer. Our struggle for equal rights has come to this. Thank you, Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Thank you, Susan B. Anthony. I hope our future actions do you proud. I am only sorry that the electorate chose a pompous bombast over progress.

Despite my sadness over the election results, I am heartened by the thousands of people who peacefully waited to pay their respects to Susan B. Anthony yesterday. I am proud to say that I am a native and lifelong resident of this wonderful city that helped launch the suffragette movement. The images that appeared on my evening news broadcast will stay with me forever. There is hope. There are decent people out there.

I have my work cut out for me. I will take heart in Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s words:

“We do not expect our path will be strewn with the flowers of popular applause, but over the thorns of bigotry and prejudice will be our way, and on our banners will beat the dark storm-clouds of opposition from those who have entrenched themselves behind the stormy bulwarks of custom and authority, and who have fortified their position by every means, holy and unholy.”

-Elizabeth Cady Stanton, “Address Delivered at Seneca Falls” (1848)

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I Found my Park

Joshua Tree National Park, August 19, 2016, copyright 2016 Elizabeth A. Maginnis

The National Parks Service has been encouraging the country to “Find Your Park” in this, its 100th anniversary year. My husband found his park several years ago. He loves Death Valley National Park so much that we set aside our own Death Valley Day whenever we visit Las Vegas. Feeling a bit left out, I suggested that this trip we set aside another day for Joshua Tree National Park, which I’ve wanted to see since I laid eyes on my first Joshua Tree some years ago.

It was with no small level of anticipation that I awoke the morning of our adventure. It takes roughly four hours to drive from Las Vegas to Joshua Tree if you take the diagonal route through the Mojave National Preserve, which is a visual treat in itself. Miles and miles of undulating roadway past creosote bushes and Joshua Trees, jagged mountains in the distance. A few abandoned rail yards and old buildings along the way reminded us that this area once thrived. I especially enjoyed passing through the town of Kelso, California, with its old rail cars and abandoned post office.

Many miles of starkly captivating desert scenery later (including a short jog through Amboy, CA, on Route 66) we arrived in the village of Joshua Tree, the funky, artsy capital of the Morongo Basin. I bought a cup of coffee and some beans to take home from the Joshua Tree Coffee Company. Between it and the park entrance, we drove through one of the most unusual, yet visually appealing, residential areas I’ve ever seen: small desert houses plunked down on semicircular hardpan streets in hodgepodge fashion, sloping gradually upward along the side of a hill to the park entrance.

The park is the coolest place on the planet, so far as I’m concerned. Otherworldly Joshua Trees, branches raised heavenward, and massive, odd rock formations that resemble clay pieces left behind by giants eons ago: I felt like a wide-eyed child watching the scenery pass by from the air conditioned comfort of our rental. (The wall of heat that greeted me every time I opened the door got to be a bit much, I confess. I took photographs from inside the car.)

It speaks to me, this place. It tugs and lifts my spirits like none other, perhaps for no other reason than its simplicity. It’s Mother Earth at her most elemental. As time goes on, I find that it’s the untouched landscapes that call to me. Artificial, man made wonders cannot compare to the masterpieces created by unseen natural forces. Fortunately for us and for future generations, the U.S. government has seen fit to preserve these masterpieces.

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For Me, September is Bittersweet

copyright 2016 Elizabeth A. Maginnis

for summer’s end, the time of year when the sun’s angle slips too low and the nights grow too cool to keep the pool’s water temperature warm enough for swimming. Every September, I try to best my record for latest swim; this year I swam to my heart’s content on September 20. That felt wonderful.

I already miss the feel of the water on my skin and that flying sensation as I float underneath the surface. In my pool, I am a kid again.

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Desert Healing

Joshua Tree National Park, August 19, 2016, © 2016 Elizabeth A. Maginnis


My husband and I recently returned from a trip to Las Vegas and the Mojave Desert. We love the Desert Southwest. Las Vegas has become our home base for day trips to the area’s natural attractions, most notably Death Valley National Park, Nevada’s otherworldly Valley of Fire State Park, Snow Canyon State Park in southwestern Utah, Malibu Beach and Los Angeles in California, and Sedona, Arizona. This trip, we expanded that list to include the Mojave National Preserve and Joshua Tree National Park.

We drove the Mojave National Preserve cut-through to Joshua Tree in a state of wonder at the beauty unfolding around us. Whoever believes the desert is devoid of life hasn’t truly seen the desert. Creosote bushes (“future tumbleweeds,” we call them) flourish alongside hundreds upon hundreds of Joshua trees tall enough to rival any adult tree back East. Distant mountains stand sentinel over the landscape.

Somewhere along the way, my mind quieted. The constant, senseless thought chatter that fills my head drifted apart. The world around me came into sharper focus. Is this how moments of clarity feel? If so, I highly recommend it. What a wonderful sensation!

This how I want to live my life: peaceful, accepting, appreciative of the gifts the Universe provides. Being human means, of course, slipping off the path more than once, but I’m willing to deal with those slips if I can recall the calm of the desert to quiet my mind.

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