The Run Lake Lowell race day was one of surprises for me. After having dreamed of not finding the starting line, then continuing to waffle about whether or not to wear my Moc3′s or go barefooted, I walked along the road from the parking area to the starting line. Every few feet, I reached down and pressed my fingers on the asphalt, only to confirm that it was very rocky and rough. I finally made the hard decision to give up the goal of my first bare foot 10K to avoid being in agony for 6.2 miles. My feet just aren’t ready for that yet. So….

The next question was “what was my goal now?” We had discovered just that morning that there were only 29 entries in the 10K distance, the half-marathon being 4 times as popular. That meant there was more of a chance at placing. Still, I knew that I needed to pace myself well and stay relaxed. I chose a position in the starting mob, which included 3 race distances of about 170 people, that was only a few rows back from the starting line and waited for the fog horn starting gun.

And we were off!   We funneled through the chip activating strip, and then had to remain in a strung out formation in order to make it through the very narrow sidewalk exit from the park. I concentrated on keeping resilience in my step and deciding how and when to pass what was mostly half-marathon runners. I couldn’t worry about other 10K runners’ starting paces, because if they were really fast I would never catch them, but if they were moderately faster there was the possibility I would pass them later.  I settled on the goal of finishing my first complete 10K within my training limits.  When the 10Kers split off, I found myself running up to pass one woman, then I was alone on a long stretch, some group leading out in front, barely visible.

But somewhere in the 2nd mile, this young woman came up along side me.  She stayed there a couple of moments, then glided about 8 feet ahead of me.  I instantly came up with a strategy.  I would test her pace, see if I could stay close enough that there was a chance of passing in the final stages.  I have a history of being able to get some kick going in the final stretch.  I found her pace manageable, my breathing settled in, and the race was on!

Occasionally she would pull ahead a bit more and I would force myself to simply concentrate on my form and rhythm.  Sooner or later, I would notice the distance decrease again.  I had no idea who was ahead of us at this point.  I didn’t hear anyone behind me or see shadows, so I didn’t waste any energy looking.  We turned onto Middleton Road and found it busy with traffic. However, the drivers were polite and did not interfere with our running.  I think they sensed the contest.

Somehow, I wasn’t seeing the mile markers for the race distance, but I used my time to gauge my distance.  We turned onto Iowa.  The hills were steeper than I had remembered, and the head wind was oppressive.  Again, I directed myself to think of form and how a slight lean would help me up the hills.  To my surprise, I gained, then finally passed my “rival.”  As I gained the top of the last main hill and eased over, I expected her to take me again on the downhill, but I never glanced back.  I kept thinking the finish was just around the bend, so I held my pace strong.  Finally, the finish WAS in sight.

Due to the shadows of trees after running in the sun with sunglasses, I almost didn’t see the thick steel wire fence strung at hip height around the grass section at the beginning of the finish chute!  With just a couple of feet to spare, I swerved sharply to the left, avoiding tragedy.  Knowing that many a person has been passed this close to the finish line, I gave it what kick I had left, which wasn’t much.  Greg always says that I haven’t tried hard enough if I can pick up my pace drastically compared to how I’ve run the rest of the race.  This time, I must have given more.  I crossed the finish line unopposed.  Then, I stumbled as they removed my timing chip and read out my time and placing.  I was second of all women and 6th overall!  Woot!  Time: 51:57.  (10K results) And no one else crossed the line for a couple of minutes.  The one lady who beat me was 29 years old.  I’m 51.  Not too bad!!

The wind was chilly enough that I soon needed all my warm gear again.  Then I settled in to watch for Greg and Natalie to finish the half-marathon.  Both of their finishes were dazzlingly impressive, but I don’t want to steal their stories, so you’ll have to ask them about it.  :-) (half-marathon results)

I had one more surprise to come.  Greg did the math for my race and told me what my average pace was.  I made him do the math several times, because I couldn’t believe I had done that well for a 10K.  Then, Carlie obliged by using her calculator as well.  My average pace was a 8:24 mile.  And so begins the summer of the 10K races.  I have 3 more on the calendar and I’m feeling encouraged.

Investing a portion of income has too commonly been treated as synonymous with both hoarding and gambling.  While in nearly every other area of life, the concept of risk is seen as concurrent with opportunity, when there is talk of investing money, one is often subject to accusations of everything from “explotation” to “irresponsibility” to “materialism.”  But let’s examine the facts.

Research into the etymology of the word ‘hoard’ reveals it’s German roots.  The word simply means to save away in reserve. The Germans, having an industrious streak, probably irritated others with generally being well prepared for contingencies.  Remember the grasshopper and the ants?  Describing someone as “hoarding” is always done with a negative sneer, but who has the moral right to define how another person or family is allowed to prepare or save for the future?  Who gets to decide the “appropriate” standards of living?

The charge of ‘gambling’ is only correct if we are also “gambling” with our health when we try to make informed decisions about food and exercise; or if we are “gambling” with our friendships.  In each case, an attempt is made at a wise choice, but there are no guarantees in life.  We may get sick or injured.  Our friends may disappoint us.  Should we have not eaten or exercised?  Should we have remained isolated?

Those who discourage investment fall into categories.  First, there are those who are in it for power.  If people neglect planning, there is increased opportunity to gain power over them, through manipulation or oppression.  Secondly, there are the ignorant.  We have all fallen into this group at one time or another.  The propaganda and social pressure can be blinding.  Thirdly, there are the lazy.  Why plan when you will be given what someone else has worked for?  Just whine loudly enough.  Unfortunately, the world is full of lazy people.

Notice that none of these categories addresses resources.  There are some in the world who are truly destitute, usually for various political reasons, but almost everyone has the potential to save some amount regularly.  In fact, when real people  are followed instead of so-called income brackets there is significant process made in (gasp) accumulating wealth.  The well being of all those in the community, far and wide, is upgraded.

There is no utopia of investment.  Not every investment opportunity works out right.  Sometimes we need to learn more.  Other times the government gets in the way.  Not to mention the weather or the fickle customer in the marketplace.  But, no matter what the snake-oil communist tries to sell you, there is no utopia of any healthy kind on this present earth.  There is work and learning involved.  Ownership and freedom generate those.  If any of these things are discouraged or hindered, then we can all be destitute together.

Saturday, just before noon, my husband took me to run the course of the Lake Lowell 10K.  I have run 6-7 miles barefoot a couple of times lately on a course with quite a variety of asphalt, but know that the more out in the country one gets around here, the rougher the roads tend to be.   Speed work two days prior to this trial run, on a nubby rubber track, had been a little more challenging for the bottoms of my feet and toes than I had anticipated.  I suspected that I would have to run most of Saturday’s 10K in my running moccasins.

Besides the somewhat tender state of my soles, I knew that a portion of the road provides lake access for boats.  There is always a lot of traffic on the narrow winding road.  As I anticipated, we did have to frequently step quite a ways off into the gravel and weeds.  The race is scheduled to begin at 9AM, so hopefully there will be substantially less traffic on Iowa Avenue, and along Middleton Road.

At Roosevelt Avenue, I wanted to take off my moccasins for a while.  I was faced with a dilemma that I haven’t figured out how I’m going to deal with for the race.  I don’t think my feet are ready for the whole race bare footed, but NOW those same feet aren’t used to running that whole way in shoes either!  I may have to just stop in the middle of the race and take the Moc3′s off.  Fortunately, the mocs are light and fold well.  I might even be able to get back to running while putting them in my hip bag.  They are also quite easy to slip on and off, but I do still wear socks with them.  Maybe I need to get over that?

I ran my regular course today, about 6.2 miles, bare footed for 6 miles of it.  It felt good.  My feet are happy and less stimulated than previously.  However, on Saturday I could feel through my Moc3′s that the race course has much longer rough sections of road than what I have worked up to at this point.  It remains to be seen how much of the race I end up running in bare feet.

After resigning myself to no exercise for all of January and much of February due to upper respiratory illness, I have been carefully adding on the miles and gradually increasing effort in all of my running, biking, and swimming.  The running plan has included transitioning back to totally barefoot running since using running moccasins for most of the winter.  I had worked back up to 5 miles barefoot as of 4 days ago, so I thought I’d give 6 miles a try yesterday.  With my folded Moc3′s (SO easy and light to carry) in my hip bag for back up, I started off on the day’s course.  I experienced anew the different effects variations of asphalt can have on the feet.

I had run this basic course barefoot a number of times last year, but my latest barefoot miles had been at Wilson Springs, though at much warmer temperatures than mid-winter.  There had been a bit of gravel and dirt scattered a bit over that asphalt path.  Yesterday, there were numerous asphalt variations.  I enjoyed nearly every minute of the run, and thought about whether or not to don my footwear, but the ground feel so much nicer with bare feet.

The first section of my course was quite pokey, but more manageable than last time I tried it this spring.  I was definitely going slowly, trying to land gently. Once at  Sunnyridge Road, I had less rough options as long as there wasn’t too much traffic on the hills, which always requires the precaution of stepping into the thick gravel on the road side.

My pace was looking like about 11 minutes per mile for the first two miles, when it had been 9:15ish on the other (Wilson Spring’s) asphalt.  I accepted this reality and continued on into what I have always thought of as the mini-cobblestone section of this road.  The asphalt here both feels and looks rounder from the running position, but the photo shows it as fairly rough.  Much like the recently chip sealed portions, more of the foot ends up making contact with the ground.

Cracks on this part of the road had been covered with tar within the last couple of weeks.   I remembered seeing the crews.  There were a LOT of cracks once I got over the hill, so avoiding the supposedly hardened rivers of tar became an act of agility.  I didn’t always clear them, leading to the discovery that they were slightly warm and soft.  That tempted me to run on them even more, but the possibility of breaking through the top shell to liquid tar deterred me.

At this point I took a short dirt and gravel trail to make a mile loop around the local high school.  On both ends of the trail I had to pass through some new loose asphalt mix that I’ve only seen this year.  It is dusty, slippery loose.  I did a very slow-mo run over it, then brushed my feet off.  It is a mystery to me why they are lining the sides of some roads with this.  By this time, I admit, my feet were feeling sensitized, but there was no evidence of injury and no pain.  I decided to continue enjoying the bare foot sensation.
I picked up my pace some while on the featureless asphalt behind the school, then moved to the sidewalk at the more traveled street, which, besides having no room anything besides vehicles, had JUST been chip sealed.  I knew I should skip that for the time being.  There was an irritating amount of chip seal gravel on the side walk and I was feeling the texture of the cement more than usual, though still keeping a faster pace.  In spite of all the traffic and odd looks caste my way, no one offered me any suggestions….

Knowing I  was almost  to the greenbelt path along a vigorous stream was heartening.   The path is secluded and lined with trees.  It was one of the places that I could get in some short bare foot stints during the winter.  It was easy to run on except for some pockets of tree and plant debris, which seemed to stick in my feet more than usual.  I made use of the plush grass to let a stride now and then whisk over the blades and clean the my soles.  (There was no goose guard when I ran, I went back later for photos.)

I was now ready to brave the shopping center traffic around Albertson’s and Walmart.  Possibly you wonder why I do this.  My current frame of mind is that I really don’t like having to run uphill on the final leg of the trip.  The only way I have come up with avoiding this is to run around to a large hill on the main highway, then return to our house downhill.  There is a fine sidewalk along the much of the way, but I do have to cross multiple store access points.  As during all of my run, when traffic is around I wave my arms a lot, and sometimes call out, to make it more likely drivers will see me.  I make no assumptions.

Around the last corner, I had to deal with the same pokey asphalt as at the beginning.  My feet had had enough and I walked the last 50 feet or so.  Then, I noticed a smidgen of blood on my right foot, but still no pain, which was curious.  It wasn’t anywhere near cold enough to give me numb feet AND I could feel the soles.  I got right to washing them and found a tiny split in the middle of my right big toe.  It still doesn’t hurt. I do have a sustained, but mild, tingly feeling on my soles.  I can see that a few spots that were minimally chafed.  It is not unlike a work out for the muscles, where you push yourself a little beyond to gain strength.  Next time, this same course should be just a bit easier.  My goal is to be able to run the Lake Lowell 10K with bare feet on May 5th!

Do you know who Fredric Bastiat is?  I met him last year when I read this book:  The Economics of Freedom: What Your Professors Won’t Tell You, Selected Works of Frederic Bastiat (Students For Liberty Library) In it he makes a thought provoking comparison between two brothers and their affect on the economy.  One brother gives indiscriminately, lives beyond his cash flow,  and when his fortunes decline with time, must seek the support of others.  The other brother manages his spending and hiring to live well within his income, personally evaluates how to help individuals in ways that encourage industry by all, saves and invests in a systematic way, and proceeds to increase the prosperity of the whole community.  I do not attempt to thoroughly summarize the whole book here, but I submit that this is merely one example of how those who work hard and invest wisely do so to the benefit of many.  Unfortunately, such wisdom and self-discipline are often labeled things like “hoarding” or “stinginess.”

Do not confuse thrift with austerity, however.  What is available to be enjoyed within the limits of one person’s budget may be folly for another.  We are allowed, based on our means, to decide which comforts and conveniences improve our lives and families.  Also, many so-called conveniences often increase our productivity, whether it be in terms of time advantage or enhancement of our well being.

Yet, those who work, invest, and prosper are looked down upon.  It is somehow held against them that they can set aside a certain sum of money, and therefore, it is argued, it is not rightfully theirs.  No matter that people (and families) move up and down the economic ladder depending on these habits, even within despotic government systems.  While some may benefit from oppressive and dishonest policies, many born into blessing will lose that benefit without adhering to the same good financial practices of those who built up the family coffers.

It is interesting to me that I will hear the same people who claim that such wealth is “stolen” from the “worker,” turn around and complain about a friend or family member who is taking advantage of them.  They seem to see the truth of the economic matter when it gets to really affecting them and their efforts, but allow jealousy to cloud their reason when talking about those who currently have more resources than themselves.  They generally want as much as they can bargain for in the way of wages, but somehow it is evil for someone to profit more than them.  Everyone may have equal value as a person, but everyone does not equally use their opportunities.  To come full circle to the premise, those who use their opportunities most fully bring the greatest benefit to ALL.

Those who use their skills, opportunities, talent and money to create something that others want and can use, in effect create wealth.  Whatever aspect of life the product or service augments, there comes with it more time to apply to other areas of life.  Competition to provide these things to those who would buy them leads to more efficiency and cost effectiveness in the businesses.  That makes it so that more can be done with the same sum of assets that any one person has.  The creation of wealth in the society brings increased opportunity to all.

Since it takes money to engage in these business enterprises, someone needs to invest in them.  There is a risk, so those who are deciding how to channel their money tend to examine the options.  The wise financial backer will try hard to choose the best ideas combined with the best management.  Not only will good choices bring some reward to those who take this calculated chance, but it will lead to a more thriving community.

There is certainly a time and place for helping those who are struggling, but an emphasis on volunteering or giving for the sake of giving ends up harming the opportunities for all.  The efforts of those who are trying to earn a livelihood are undermined.  They cannot compete with “free.”  Those who regularly expect and receive free things do NOT optimize their resources.  They have nothing at stake.  Those who do work are discouraged because there is no benefit.  A system of unrestrained giving stimulates corruption, because when no work is involved, the criteria for who gets what has to be decided by some other competing force.  To unwisely give is the exact opposite of investing wisely.  It brings the demise of the community, whether it be local or global.

So, be content to begin with what you have, then make the most of it.  The basics of economics are simple and clear enough to master and use as a basis for future wise financial choices.  Do not be swayed from it by politics or propaganda.  Learn to defend your path to prosperity because it is truly shared by all.

There are very few things that can be harvested from the Idaho garden in late winter.  Sure, there are some things that may have been stored in the ground, like carrots or potatoes, but these plants are not still growing and often the ravages of winter weather have taken a toll on them by now.  Brussel’s sprouts will usually make it deliciously through the winter, but in limited supply for a lot of work.  Bunching onions, on the other hand, are prolific.

I went out this morning, as big, fluffy snow flakes were falling, and easily dug out about five bunching onions.  One of the advantages of well aged raised beds is that the soil can be fairly soft, even when the rest of the ground is frozen.  A spading fork was barely needed to loosen the roots.  With very little work, I separated the onions from each other.  I realized that I had never gotten around to dividing them the last two years.  Will put that on the list for this spring….

These onions have a mild sweet flavor,  similar to green onions that can be purchased at the grocery store. I do not remember for sure which variety I planted, but I think it was this one from Johnny’s Selected Seeds.

I pulled the brown leaves off, snapped off the muddy mass of roots, washed them, then handed them over to the Master Omelet Maker.  Using fresh eggs from my chickens, he proceeded to make me a scrumptious smoked salmon-cream cheese omelet:

I regret that technology has not yet advanced to the point that I can add a link to let you have a taste, but you can always grow your own bunching onions and try it yourself.    Actually, if you look at the first picture, you can see that I have some onions to spare right now.  I am willing to make a donation to the first few people who want to come get some!

When I was growing up I NEVER pictured myself participating in the stock market.  It was another world, akin to a science fiction novel.  When I married my husband, we began a limited savings program and became aware of inflation, which lead him to investigating investment choices.  For some reason, he decided to get me interested and pass on to me what he had learned.  Whether he consciously knew it or not, I immediately recognized that he was guiding my shopping tendencies.  Now, for some of my shopping, he could actually keep the money!

We opened an account with an internet based brokerage, a fairly new concept at the time.  Next, he exposed me to Yahoo! Finance and a handful of evaluation criteria.  My head was swimming.  I felt stupid and slow, but gradually gained familiarity with a few basic concepts, such as what “share price” actually is.    I read a couple of popular stock market books, including Beating the Street by Peter Lynch.  The market’s mystique began to fade slightly and I even offered a couple of semi-informed recommendations.  But I knew I still had a lot to learn.

One practical reason for my involvement is that the market is only open for trading during limited business hours, when my husband is at work.  We prefer to make final decisions on our activity when we can see what the market is actually doing any given day.  So we occasionally had “team meetings”, the results of which I applied the following day.  We were not (still are not) day traders, sometimes going months without making changes.  We made some good choices, some bad ones, but gradually our savings grew faster than a plain savings account.

The housing bubble burst at almost exactly the time we went to live in Taiwan for a few months.  Besides needing to devote much of my energy to learning to live in a foreign country with a language I didn’t know, I became acutely aware that I needed to increase my learning curve if we were going to be able to make wise decisions about further investments.  For a few months, however, I just concentrated on learning a bit of Chinese, teaching my three youngest children in this new environment (high schoolers, at home as always), and enjoying adventures on the Asian, semi-tropical island.  Fortunately, the educational journey lead to Thomas Sowell’s book, Basic Economics 4th Ed: A Common Sense Guide to the Economy, which proved to be an excellent foundation for further investment studies after we returned to Idaho.

With renewed dedication and enthusiasm, we are pursuing wise investing.  While cognizant that the world may descend into chaos or communism at any moment,  we intend to manage our resources with what care we can.  We have made a better plan for regular “seed” money; and are becoming more proficient at critically judging companies on a deeper level.  My father, being well along on his own investment path and keen to share, has been encouraging me to begin meeting with him.  I have been concerned my head might explode.  Both he and my husband are engineers, very quick with numbers and data synthesis.  My husband has strongly encouraged that it would be time well spent and I do like spending time with my dad, so I am throwing myself into it.

They weren’t in collusion, but both men finally admitted to training me for future usefulness.  Hmmm.  I know I still have a lot to absorb, but also admit I am increasingly enjoying discussing this subject matter with them.  If they are willing to patiently include me in the proceedings, then, the game is afoot!

————————————–(Greg in orange, followed by brother Mike)

They gave me a 3 minute head start, but before long they were right behind me, some of them passing me, circling and passing again.  I set my dog free to chase the girls, giving me the advantage of more arm movement and greater balance.   Thus began another wilderness adventure:  a 7 mile or so run through the area around Reynolds Creek in southwest Idaho off of Highway 78 and Wilson Creek Road. (This link is not the exact path we took, but shows the basic area and includes some of our route.)

The terrain was highly varied and I was interested to see how it would feel in my Moc3′s.  We began on soft dirt roads which quickly became rutted and liberally peppered with sharp walnut sized rocks.  Another section was a roller coaster of 45 degree mounds, rising for 10 feet then declining abruptly again.  While going up and down these hills, the ground changed to deep sand.  When I was ascending one of these, the heel of one of my shoes slipped off for the one and only time.  In spite of that and a couple hundred flat feet of beach sand as well, I did not end up with any sand in my shoes!

Before too long, the trail became narrow and bordered a rather steep canyon looking down onto Reynolds Creek.  The dogs (my brother’s dog was also along) seemed to need to go back and forth checking on people, plus ranging up and down the slope at unpredictable intervals.  The stability afforded by the Moc3 running moccasins was very apparent to me as a dog would energetically pass me on the ledge.

When the path became very rocky and uneven, and, if possible, even more narrow  and winding through 6 foot shrubs, I impressed my brother with my light footed, deer-like prancing.  My toes barely caught on one rock as I leaped around and I heard a baritone gasp behind me, as if waiting for me to fall, but, again, the stability gained by the moccasins was such that I didn’t miss a step.  In fact, I don’t think I would have noticed the toe touching the rock had it not been for the sound effects.

(Here I must add that I think all of my dancing on weekends lately has strengthened muscles that are very useful for trail running!  I dance with my husband with great enthusiasm, having my own spontaneous joyful “choreography” and many sideways steps.)

Somehow, I ended up in front again, leading my brother I knew not whither.  The path became a crooked, sometimes muddy, creek bed filled with river rock and surrounded by vegetation; and finally I had no idea where to go.  My husband/guide was no where in sight so I loudly called out his name only to discover he was immediately running up behind us.   He reminded us that this leg of the trail “didn’t go anywhere” so we turned around and headed back, taking a couple of moments for photo ops:  (hubby and me)

(brother, daughter, and hubby)

My husband/coach estimates we were going at least as fast as 10 minute miles on average.  And that despite the fact that they let me lead again for quite a while on the way out.  I think the fun of the trail and pleasant company made it go by quickly.  My legs did start to tighten up near the end, but since 5 miles was the farthest I had run in a month due to being ill, that wasn’t too surprising or disappointing.

Everyone passed me again in the final stretch, so I was the last one to the car. 

Even though the ground feel was very good in my Moc3′s, I ran the last 1/4 mile completely barefoot, then went dancing that evening.  I was feeling a little tired the next day, but I would do it all again.

bunting: 1. thin cloth for making flags, streamers, etc. 2. flags, or strips of cloth in the colors of the flag, used in holiday decorations 3. (of American origin) a baby’s garment of soft, warm cloth made into a hooded blanket that exposes only the face.

(Above is McCalls pattern 2219, which I did see available for just over $3 on ebay and etsy.)

I have about 12 boot sized boxes of patterns that I have collected over the years.  Among those are some out-of-print baby patterns from the days of my little ones.  It has been a delight to go through them with new hopes for the first time in years.  About 15 years, to be more exact, since that is the age of our youngest child.   I am still sewing for my children on a regular basis, but there is something about a baby project.   So a couple of weeks ago, I decided to make a baby bunting for the coming grandchild.

Since making polar fleece ponchos over the last few years, I have had a stash of fairly large remnants due to the circular cut out of the ponchos.  I have made convertible mittens, a baby bib, and mini mittens for babies.  I was still able to find several pieces of one design, and, with minimal patching, work them up into a unisex baby bunting.  I even found an old red zipper in my supplies, so didn’t have to go out to purchase anything for this project.

———————————-(wrong side out view of front bottom)———————————–

The patch work was only used for the front body section and, now that it is done, looks like it was meant to be that way.  The pattern was cut to create a box-like roomy area for the feet, as well as have attached, fold-ever mittens.  The lined hood has clean lines and no exposed seams to make it uncomfortable for tender baby skin.  The pattern and sewing directions for the hood  have folds and shapes that make it  a challenge to picture how it will go together, but if the directions are followed, it all goes smoothly.  These efforts to create a fitted garment should make it stay on well.  I used red ribbon for the ties, but don’t know if that will hold up in the wash very well.  They are easy enough to re-thread with something else if need be.

If you click to enlarge the picture, it should be easier to see the fold-over mitten at the end of the sleeve angled so as to be up to the right of the hood (your left).  Polar fleece makes it possible to skip some of the double hem folding, but it can be a good idea to zigzag the edges in various places so they won’t be too bulky.  I did this at the openings for the mittens.

And here is our cooperative teddy bear, once again modeling for us.  This bunting is for up to an 18 month size baby (whatever that means), so the little bear is swimming in it.   Now, we are just waiting for the baby.

As I have become exposed to different cultures during my life, I have gained understanding of how my culture influences me.  More importantly, I have gained insight into how some people confuse culture with truth and attempt to be dogmatic about things that can legitimately have variation.  And yet, I have also seen that there are certain aspects of the human condition that transcend culture.  The desire for love and peace, the joy of sharing smiles, and the longing for purpose are some main themes.

This poem put to song, that my Chinese tutor found for my studies, is a wistful example of the yearning and search for peace.  The olive tree is historically recognized as symbolizing peace， and the singer is willing to go far and wide to find it.  The melody is melancholy; the journey is not yet fulfilled for this person.

橄欖樹 – Chyi Yu (The Olive Tree)

橄欖樹  The Olive Tree
不要問我從那裡來
bu2 yao4 wen4 wo3 cong2 na4 li4 lai2
Don’t ask me where I come from

我的故鄉在遠方
wo3 de. gu4 xiang1 zai4 yuan3 fang1
My homeland is a far off place

為甚麼流浪   流浪遠方     流浪
wei4 shen2 me. liu2 lang4    liu2 lang4 yuan3 fang1    liu2 lang4
Why do I wander, wander in a distant land, wander

為了天空飛翔的小鳥
wei4 le. tian1 kong1 fei1 xiang2 de. xiao3 niao3
Because of the little bird gliding through the sky

為了山間輕流的小溪
wei4 le. shan1 jian1 qing1 liu2 de. xiao3 xi1
Because of the brook bubbling through the mountains

為了寬闊的草原     流浪遠方    流浪
wei4 le. kuan1 kuo4 de. cao3 yuan2     liu2 lang4 yuan3 fang1    liu2 lang4
Because of the wide open grasslands, wander in a distant land, wander

還有        還有
hai2 you3     hai2 you3
There is still more, still more

為了夢中的橄欖樹        橄欖樹
wei4 le. meng3 zhong1 de. gan3 lan3 shu4         gan3 lan3 shu4
Because of the dream of the olive tree, the olive tree

不要問我從那裡來                                  Don’t ask me where I come from
我的故鄉在遠方                                      My homeland is a far off place
為甚麼流浪    為甚麼流浪遠方             Why do I wander, why wander in a distant land
為了我夢中的橄欖樹                              Because of the dream of the olive tree
不要問我從那裡來                                  Don’t ask me where I come from
我的故鄉在遠方                                      My homeland is a far off place
為甚麼流浪    流浪遠方   流浪              Why do I wander, wander in a distant land, wander