Dr. Jane L. Forsyth finished brushing back her long, white hair. Her striking blue-grey eyes emerged from paper-thin crevasses that told a tale of Antarctic explorations.

Women her age delighted in calico quilts covered in calico cats. While teaching geology in Ohio she would rise early to birdwatch, but Dr. Forsyth’s true passion was glaciers. For decades there wasn’t a geologic map made of the state of Ohio unless each glacial moraine and ice-age remnant was lovingly preserved by her.

She walked across her room at McMurdo Station and pulled open a dresser drawer. The red checked cloth made her smile broadly. She removed it and a plastic frame from the top of the stainless steel cabinet.

She strode down the hallway knocking on the doors of the women from Belgium, Norway, and Sweden. The scientists watched as she opened the table cloth and spread it on the floor. The wind outside howled.

“It’s the 4th of July, ladies.” She said as she held up the ant farm in her hand. “Time for a picnic.”