Life Story # 29 -- The Dinner Party 2009

It began with the request by hubby to invite a couple to dinner.  Tabor was not exactly excited about this burp in her weekly plans.  Thanksgiving was just around the corner and there were bedrooms to clean, meals to plan, food to buy and porches and decks to clean as well as decorations to get out and large platters to pull from the back of cupboards.  Now he wants me to cook a meal for some other company before all this?  For people I don't even know?  But Tabor realized that this dinner was important because they were like strangers in a strange land and needed to break bread with someone.

The man had just been hired to work at the nearby small community college and was still trying to find his way.  He was working with people from a different culture and people who perhaps did not have the passion for accomplishment that he did.  They were people who hesitated to make change because it probably meant failure but most certainly meant more work.  He was American but actually an Eastern Indian by culture and who for the past six years worked in the Marshall Islands.  He was tall, thin, and handsome and had not lost his country's accent.   His parents still lived in India although his father had worked in France for a while.  This dinner guest, in spite of or due to his sophisticated upbringing, was still seen as an outsider by the local community.  

His wife, shorter and pretty, was Laotian but had lived in America since she was eight.  She had stayed and worked in Boston during this time and was raising their two twin boys with the help of her parents.  She had worked her way up in a company providing support to database software and hardware for the big stock brokers and finance companies.  She had held on to this job when the company was laying off others.  The couple had sacrificed big time by being apart for months at a time over many years, knowing that in his field of science jobs were hard to come by.  Now he had been rewarded with a job stateside where he was much closer to his wife and sons.  He was so happy to be back in America but somewhat unhappy in this stagnant job.  He was smart and energetic.  They were strangers in this rural conservative community and we could be the connection they needed to maintain their sanity.

(Tabor asked hubby about dietary restrictions, having at least some idea of international eating issues.  Since there were none, she proceeded to put together a salmon with a Thai curry sauce with chopped kaffir lime from her tree.  To this was added a tumeric rice dish, stir fried swiss chard in bacon fat with chopped bacon and to cool the tongue a cucumber salad with mint/basil/sour cream dressing.  For dessert, just to really make the meal over the top crazy, she made brownies served with vanilla ice cream.  Fortunately, everyone had cast iron stomachs and she got compliments.)

The dreaded entertainment event went very well.  The couple were completely charming and well educated.  Once they realized that we saw that the world was composed of a whole group of people with common interests and common goals and that we did not view the world as privileged citizens from the top of Mount U.S. we had wonderful conversations in our attempt to solve the world's problems.  We shared stories of travels and travel interruptions and travel surprises.  Relieved that there were no talks of sports, potty training, holiday shopping, it was like the old dinner parties.

A discussion of the movie, Slumdog Millionaire, brought to light the concept that maybe this slum was actually kept in place by the government of India because it produced many cheap products and provided cheap but intellectual labor.  It was like a company town kept in place by government bureaucracy according to our guest.  The young man mentioned working with a technician from India who helped set up the cell phone network in the Marshall Islands.  When our dinner guest had returned to India with this man on a trip he found that his home was in the slum.  A one and half story shed built of tin where 8 people slept.  Tabor's guest was from a higher level in India and even he was surprised at this contrast in the man's skills and where he lived.   Tabor's guest was not like some of the haughty Brahmin's she had met on her travels and she realized she must watch her prejudices.  His life in the U.S. had made him very democratic.

By the end of the evening Tabor wanted more time to explore Laos and its customs with the wife.  She had forgotten to ask for pictures of the twins.  She knew that the young man would be moving on to other jobs when the opportunity came, but maybe she would have the chance to entertain this young couple again in the future.  They were a nice reminder of what Thanksgiving was all about. 

That Digital Sugar High

I listened to a program on MSNBC  (I think) that was discussing how hard it is for people to stop checking their Bl**kberries or logging into FB or Blogger on their computers at least a dozen times a day. They were addicted to any new items from friends or from news feeds. The network interviewed a psychiatrist and she said that our brains were hardwired for the novel. We automatically were intrigued by a new view, a new vision or new news. Therefore this new social networking was like a chemical addiction for the brain. She actually said is was like sugar for our brain.  My husband, who does not own a hand-held personal communication device like a Bl**kberry, said that on his travels many of the people he met with had these little electronic devices in hand and were checking routinely.  (It is almost as if they were waiting for a tweet that the world is indeed coming to an end.)

I find this so true. We want that quick interesting new hit. But we don't really have time or energy to follow the deeper links and really understand that new/new. We read about some climate disaster, or a celebrity breakup, or political icon's last interview or that next emerging plague, but we don't research beyond the initial report. We don't apply critical thinking. What was the extent of the disaster? How are people coping days later? Where did Palin get the facts to make that scary statement? What really is the definition of a plague that they are using and what are the chances this new germ will affect me personally?  Why do I read anything about Paris Hilton anyway?  I have written before my concern about our schools no longer teaching critical thinking skills.  Analysis of what we feed our brain, instead of just feeding our brain is key.

We don't have time for deep thought anymore.  We are unexcited unless there is blood or spittle.  We are even bored at trying to think deeply about an issue, finding it hard to really study other sides and see other angles.   It is always on to the next exciting news or photo or embarrassing event.  We are always on to the next roadside accident which makes it all so simple.  Everything is black and white or start and stop and never gray and there is an endless supply of this novel two bit stuff.

That is one of the reasons I have my other blog. It forces me to sloooow dooown. It forces me to study what is happening in the very small area of my world where I live on a day to day basis. It creates a habit for me to see how I fit within that quiet realm before I try to react in the larger scheme of things. Then when I am breathing at a normal rhythm, if I see something of interest, I know that I need to ask questions about it and not just skim it and then repeat the nonsense to someone else as if I really know what I am talking about. (Maybe I need to research this report?)

That Yucky Verbal Diarrhea

Those of us who love to write but have nothing really significant to say and even less skill in saying it are like the distracting  nats of the evening air. We arrive at a pause in the day, not large enough to really cause a ruckus, nor interesting enough to cause a little pain, but still annoyingly dancing there in front of your face and being a distraction from the lovely sunset as you lose your place in blogdom.  You feel guilty because they did comment on your post yesterday and so you tediously read through the post and hope to find some grain or idea to help you comment and to return the favor.

This writing is an addiction with us. We love the words and we love the pictures we can paint with them. No, we cannot paint like Van Gogh or tell a story like Vermeer with light and shadow, but we are compelled to take the white screen canvas and sprinkle letters here and there hoping they form words and hoping eventually the words form sentences and perhaps, miracle of miracles, a complete thought! Keeping that train of thought on the track is another task frequently beyond our enthusiastic and spastic skill. Getting to the point of a story or valuable lesson is certainly a challenge for our energetic scribbling. You may wonder...DO we have a POINT as we scribble through the list of the mundane activities of our day?

But, you, my blog readers, are ever so forgiving, because you faithfully return. You let me splash a noun here and smear a verb there and even overuse the exclamation point. You let me clutter the canvas with superlatives.  You wonder if I have ever heard of "spell check."  You wonder why I put every other phrase in quotes and you wish the parenthesis keys on my keyboard would break.  You let me split infinitives (whatever they are) and end sentences with prepositions all in an effort to capture something that was recently remembered from my past or to describe something routine that happened that day and to try to make it significant......because you know that sometimes I get lucky and actually post something interesting and a little thought provoking.   And then we can both smile at the end of the day.  I need you in this dance of design.

(The photo is something I was motivated to do because one of my bloggers is working on textures with her photos and I remembered I had this taken this rose photo in my garden this past summer.  I have reduced the size substantially, but it still holds the texture effect, I think.  You will have to click on the photo to really get the furry texture.)

The Answer

Here is the reveal on the gifts from Indonesia.  I am sure my Asian readers had it figured out, but were too shy to test me.  You may need to click on the photo to read the answers.  I have no idea how I am going to use all the large quantity of spices.  The coconut sugar is delish...just like candy or sort of like that southern Louisiana pecan candy only crunchier and wrapped in bamboo.

Travel Presents and a Guessing Game

As promised here is a photo of some of the gifts from hubby's travel in Asia.  Above is also a picture of a lovely small ikat table runner that my husband brought me.  (I have a nice collection of ikat weavings and this will add to it.)  In the first photo are all the little things that he brought home.  Can you guess all of them?  I will email a nice sunset photo or fall photo  (your choice--or perhaps a print) to the blogger who gets it right first!

(With the new Blog editor bar it appears that there is no longer a spellcheck?   I am a terrible speller and apologize until I can figure this out!) (I will turn on comment moderation.  I just checked the comments and no one has gotten all of them yet.  I'll give a clue...Indonesia was known as the spice islands.)

Odd Neighbors

Every neighborhood has someone strange living in it. That odd person that you pretend to be nice to, but you often wonder about them. They are just a little odd. Some idiosyncratic behavior of theirs makes you keep your distance. Perhaps they wander around in loud colored shorts or perhaps they peek at you through the drapes or perhaps they spend too much time washing that fancy car or perhaps they sit on the porch and pick their nose for what seems an endless amount of time. I am sure that sometimes my neighbor has second thoughts about asking me out to lunch as she did the other day. Her husband was out running a tractor, grading the roads to the farm they lease out, and she knew I had been alone for several weeks. So she offered a lunch date followed by a healthy walk around the island.

The reason I think she must have second thoughts about my stability is that she can now see me in my yard as the trees have become sparse of leaf cover. She can see Tabor walking up and down her driveway or standing out on her deck at all hours of the day with camera in hand. She sees me stop and then bend over peering into my camera with my butt out in the air like some freak flag flying and taking a picture of the driveway, or photographing the seat of my deck chair or even taking a picture of what at times looks like my feet!

I am sure she thinks I am a very strange bird. But I keep finding beautiful things as I walk around the yard that I need to photograph. I keep trying to stop time!




Do you blame me?

This and That

What does it say about us when we post colored charts for threat levels on terrorism and Canada posts colored charts for this .

I decided that I would adjust my blog settings so that any comments that come in more than 10 days after a post would be held until I could moderate. I did this because for some reason blogger lets spam and scam through for commenting on older posts. I get comment posts weeks later and of course I don't get back fast enough to read those posts to delete. So now they sit on my dashboard hidden until I decide to delete. I have been getting quite a few lately.

I also have been feeling guilty for not commenting on some blogs. I read the entry but can't really think of anything interesting to say when everyone ahead of me has said the same thing. So I just keep my keyboard shut.

My husband's trip took him across the many, many, many islands in the Indonesian chain as well as some bordering countries. Indonesia is both Muslim and Christian but Bali is mostly a hybridized Hindu. He noticed that the island and/or villages where the majority of citizens were either Muslim or Christian remained relatively peaceful and the areas where the division was 50/50 or 40/60 were full of rancor and anger as each group fought for control of the local political system. Why does God make people so angry? I know, I know...just had to write that

While staying at my daughter's house last week a young father came by with his son to play with my grandson. As we got to talking I learned that his wife worked for the FDA and was in the office where they worked on drug approvals for humans. He said she had been there for 10 years. I asked how she liked her job and he said that during the past administration their budget had been cut substantially and they had also felt pressured to get drug approvals moving faster and she had been very miserable. Now she is happy as they have been given a decent budget and are being allowed to do their job as professional scientists without any outside interference.

I took hundreds of photos of fall scenery over the last month and recently found that my camera settings had been on a lower resolution than I usually have. I guess it was from fiddling around with settings that I don't really understand as I experimented with photos. When I was younger I could immediately figure out a camera setting and easily focus on the subject. Now with age I forget to make changes and focus...well even depending on autofocus doesn't always work! I do not like getting old, but I do love having the time to play with the camera.

Hubby brought back a number of gifts from the islands...most from him but some from friends of his. I will post on that later. They are not the usual things one brings from an overseas trip.

Lucky Friday the 13th

I do not fear Friday the 13th. Both hubby and daughter are due home today. The winds have slowed and so have the rains. The water rose to the end of the dock but not over the top. No downed trees although the yard looks like a major battle took place. Those two trees that lean across the dock on the right in the photo above are widow-makers and I wish we could get someone to cut them down. It appears that since they are so close to the water we have to get a permit. (Others, of course, were not so lucky in this storm.)

I will actually venture out on this lucky day to shop for food since I have eaten every scrap that was in the refrigerator and now need to begin cooking for two again.

Boy I hope Mother Nature doesn't tie one on again like that anytime too soon!

Rushing (T)Rains

I had just returned from two days of taking care of two preschool grandchildren last night. They had tag-teamed me and while the deafening roar of children screaming, laughing, crying, shouting was still ringing in my ears, I removed faded jeans and sweatshirt to put on the softer pajamas as I heard the roaring and banging of the weather. The wind has been pummeling this end of the bay for over 24 hours. The rain bangs intermittently on my kitchen skylight and I can see the glisten of water in every area hit by outside lights.

I had arrived in the dark and hurried out of my car in the pelting rain to open the gate. There were no trees down in my driveway, but I am too far from the dock to see how high the water is and it is too dark to see if the wind has brought down trees elsewhere in the yard. I snuggled down beneath the covers so thankful that I have shelter from the storm and can worry about damage until tomorrow.

The continuing tempest of nature woke me at 4:00 this morning and I am sitting here waiting for the sun to push a little gray light through the tropical storm clouds. I am curious to see the sudden transformation of naked trees and also to see if there is damage. This lovely summer without any storm made me complacent and I am surprised by this violent aftermath of late summer that pushed her way up here in our late fall.

The sound of rushing trains continues as I post.

Danger, Will Robinson!

When I was a little girl we only shopped at two department stores. My father called them Monkey Wards and Sears and Roarbucks and of course, we laughed at his joke.

During the first week of November I had to head up to the city to do some babysitting as both parents had to do some business travel...in opposite directions, of course. During the two days that I was there and after dropping children off at their respective schools, I decided to take advantage of being near the large malls and get started on my holiday shopping. I tend to forget that traffic problems begin this early.

Well, I would like to caution others that may have this same plan. First, do not shop at Sears. It has not changed. There is no help, only one register with long lines (even in the middle of the week), and staff that speak limited English and always seem to be learning how to use the register for the first time. After spending many minutes waiting in line to pay for my purchase I was then rewarded for my patience by having the alarm go off as I left the store with a loud voice blaring that the security tag MUST be removed. I walked all the way back across the store to the ONLY open register and was told that the security tag was "probably" inside the box and to just ignore the alarm. I cannot tell you how hard it was to 'steal 'myself to leave the store a second time while a very loud robotic voice demanded that I return to the store!

The second shopping warning is to let you know that sales people in both the chain stores and the kiosks in the mall have been given strict instructions to part you from your money using any sales pitch they can find. Clearly this recession has convinced them that they will be closing shop if this holiday season does not turn a substantial profit. The recession is hovering darkly over the retail industry. These staff are the managers who hope to be working there in January as temporary staff have not yet been hired. If you ask for assistance they will answer your question or direct you to the correct area, but then will proceed to convince you to buy at least three of the item due to the huge discounts and sales. If you explain you really only want one, they will then direct you to their other sales specials, their newest products, etc. etc. and it will take some very polite determination to get out of the store with your wallet and sense of humor intact. I actually had to pull my hand away from a young Israeli man who insisted his product would make my hand 20 years younger!

(The blog title is for those who can remember 1960's science fiction TV.)

Just Teasing

Today was the oddest day. It started out in the 50s (F) and then climbed to the 60's. A batch of orange robins had flown in the night before and blended perfectly with all the orange brown leaves that I had not raked or blown away. We do not have robins here during the summer months, so I knew they were on their way to Florida. I got started on the yard at mid-morning and was enjoying watching roils of leaves tumble into the woods revealing the spring green grass beneath. I cleared the patio and the deck and stored that nutrition in the compost bin. Then I began to clip away those perennials that had gone brown.

When I went to put away the rake and leaf blower I was met by a couple of sulphur butterflies and one bright orange and brown butterfly enjoying the last of the lavender flowers. I hadn't seen butterflies for more than a week, so it was a surprise to watch these dancing across my herb bed.

Later after I had picked some green tomatoes and arugula and several of the hot peppers and the last of the roses for my table, I noticed a number of small flying insects filling the air like little fluff machines. One landed in my hair and I discovered that it was a lady bug. They were everywhere looking for food. One even made it into the house that afternoon.

I was just beginning to wonder what had happened to fall when the sun started to set and the most lovely haze hung on the golden horizon making me think that I was back in Asia where the cooking fires created a smokey haze at the end of the day. It smelled dusty and musty and reminded me of the dry season in Indonesia. It was so much like summer and such a tease that I made my way down to the dock barefoot. Anyday that I do not have to wear shoes is a GOOD day. I was almost ready to believe that winter was not hiding somewhere up North.

The Last Roses

The last roses of summer. They are like gentle and fragile old ladies with lace collars and fancy fans that smell gently of soap and sweet bath powder. They are high maintenance because they know they are beautiful and popular. Their heads hand low from fall rains. They are lovely even as they fade. I miss that they must hurry off, but their cruise ship is waiting. Late in November, while I will sit by the fire trying to warm my toes, they will be having tea and ginger cookies along the warm equatorial waters somewhere. They promise that they will send their favorite nieces and they will arrive in sweet pale dresses in the spring and if I show them love, they will stay for a long visit in the rose garden next summer.

The little gal has what is called rose bloom balling due to the cooler weather followed by days of rains. It still looks lovely even though it will never open. I have to move many of my roses this spring as they are in one of the side beds that gets way too little sun. Living in a forest is deceptive. Roses are greedy for sun and I am lucky that I have not gotten any serious fungal outbreaks this year. Come spring I will begin the spraying as these are the only plants where I use pesticide and fungicide for prevention.

In the Mail Thursday Thoughts #25

About eight months ago I started to receive in the mail a billing notice from a collections agency regarding $113 that they say I still owe from the time I rented an apartment in 2005 through the summer of 2007. About two months after I checked out of that place I sent them that amount as they had raised the rent that month and I forgot to include the increase in my last month's payment. I do not have access to that bank account as it was closed and so do not know the exact number of the check sent. I have called the leasing office and the accounts receivable office and left at least 6 messages with no return to my calls. I even drove up there several months ago and met with the accounts manager who said my account appeared paid in full but they were re-doing the books and that they would get back to me. This "unpaid debt" now sits on my credit reports as an unresolved issue and no one returns my calls.

At my local post office there are several large blue recycle bins in the lobby. These are used by 80% of patrons to immediately dump without reading all those ads from various stores. The rest of the patrons are too stupid or too lazy and just leave their mail detritus on the window sill or the floor. These paper products for landfills is what is keeping the Post Office afloat. I would even accept this junk by email if they agreed to stop printing it on paper.

I subscribe to a newsletter "Consumer Reports: On Health." I have found it interesting for the most part, except the October issue had this brief paragraph: "Hugging Laundry. Dirty sheets, towels, and clothes can harbor bacteria and other germs, so use a basket---not your arms---to gather and transport laundry. And wash your hands after loading it into the machine." ??? While this might be good advice for those who are hired to do other's laundry, I think we are getting a little too germicidal in our lives...how in the heck do I get the laundry into the basket and out of the basket...rubber gloves? Does this mean I shouldn't hug those who wore the clothes?

I must be richer than I know on my fixed income. I also got a card in the same mail telling me I was pre-qualified to receive the exclusive Visa Black Card. (It appears that silver, gold and platinum have peaked in swankness.) If I get the Visa Black Card I am assured the highest caliber of personal service and concierge services. This card is limited to 1% of U.S. residents (how exclusive is that?), and they say it is guaranteed to get me noticed! No duh, so does a really bad hair day. Since it has an annual fee of $495 ($195 for each additional user) and an APR of 13.24% I guess I will pass. Swankness has its price and its level of stupidity.

Unfortunately, what I rarely get in the mail is letters.

( This post was written before the tragedy at Ft. Hood yesterday. More troops suffering from being exposed to trauma and tragedy will be coming home and resolving their issues by using either violence or suicide. War is a nasty disease.)

Century recycling

Above is a photo of something we use every year to hold the fall leaves and to transport to the compost bin. It is a tattered parachute. Hubby got it from some surplus store about a century ago and, while spotted with various paints and stains from our housekeeping life, it still holds strong and true to carry our leaves.

This photo is some of the oak wood we had split to use to warm ourselves this winter. I think this tree grew about a century ago before it was removed to build this house. Most of the wood that we split now is from deadfall and the disease scars are revealed in the heartwood. Seeing such lovely grainwood as above is rare and you can see the war it declared with the chainsaw.

Fine, Just Fine, Thanks

The sun is getting cooler every day, you know? I mean, over the long term, it is burning out. The spin of the earth is slowing down by about one second every ten years as well. So much for the old phrase, "Stop the world, I want to get off." Perhaps someday it will stop and you will fall off. There are times when I get overwhelmed by the fact that everything is evolving slowly but dramatically over time. The history that I know is very different from the history that my grandchildren will know. The picture that I paint is coded with time. I now realize that I have actually lived through history.

I hate the passage of time when I think how I am away from my son and my youngest brother, both very different in age and activities but similar in some ways. I know that you must love someone with open arms so that they can fly free. You must let them go but leave your arms open so that you can catch them if they fall. Both my youngest brother and my son need to be free. They fill their days with the busyness of living. I will always be here with my arms open, but the earth is spinning so fast that I can barely see them at times and I know they are not looking for me. They are staring at another planet.

Today I feel much smaller than that grain of sand because after I disappear, it will still be here.

Feeling Fallow Fall

This is the view toward the deer gate. I can almost see my driveway disappearing beneath the forest leaves. Will I be able to find my way out by next week? So much work!

Tonight, as I watched the sun go down from my living room, I prepared a lovely mushroom ravioli with homemade tomato/basil /green pepper sauce with the last of the vegetables harvested from the garden. I am home alone, so forcing myself to actually prepare a healthy and fresh meal was not easy. (I could have had microwaved popcorn.) I washed these healthy antioxidants down with a nice Sangiovese that I had purchased at my recent visit to the Biltmore estate. I am alone and so adjusting to enjoying good food by myself is taking some effort. I removed the small bag of frozen peach pie filling made months ago and after thawing added to a pie crust and sliced a fresh apple on top, added more cinnamon and sprinkled some granola cereal on top of it all. It turned out delicious with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Here is the back yard that I need to either rake or blow. It was clean just days ago, so I am being somewhat lazy and putting this off. It is a contest with the trees. They still have lots of leaves. They throw them down in the wind like yellow flakes of gold, as if they were gentlemen throwing down their yellow gloves as if in a challenge to duel. But then, when I look up, the trees still have more wealth to share. I will never win this duel.

The sex-crazed squirrels spend all their time chattering and laughing at my confusion.

Happy Halloween

I heard the screech of the famous pileated woodpecker and then he turned into a spook for Halloween. You may have to click on the image for the full effect. (One of these days I am going to get a decent photo of one of the pair that live here!)

Look here for some interesting Halloween Art. (WARNING: some of the other graphics aren't so PG.)

After Slowing Down

Well, here is the follow-up. It rained ceaselessly the whole evening. My son and I did get lost and he had a GPS on his phone...he is just a bad navigator telling you about a turn as you miss it! We also discovered that there are TWO places in the area with very similar names and we had headed to the wrong one. We still made it to the Keb Mo show on time. Food was awful as it always is at that theatre but it is intimate seating and so you feel close to the stage. On the way back to drop him off I did goof and turned onto a one-way street, but since the traffic was thin at 11:00 P.M., we survived that screw-up as well. AND as you can surmise from this post, I did make it back out of the city, but the drive was somewhat tense as pouring rain and glaring headlights meant I had to really concentrate the whole hour and a half on the way home. It was worth it to head bob with Keb Mo and to sit with my son.

Slow Down,

It is silliness, really. He wasn't her first choice. Well, actually, he was her first choice, but she knew he wouldn't get back to her with an answer until 24 hours before. If he decided he couldn't come, that would leave her too little time to fill his shoes. No, he ended up being her third choice. Her husband was the first. Hubby had several months notice, but blew her off for a free trip to exotic Bali and elsewhere just weeks before the date. She gave him a piece of her mind and was thankful that he had to leave before she could empty her entire brain.

Her second choice was her daughter. The loyal and faithful fallback. She had been the one to go with her to hear Chris Botti last spring when hubby once again had a conflict. The date tonight was set until yesterday when daughter called to explain she had an unavoidable business trip to either Georgia or Florida...didn't know until the judge cleared their access to the buildings. Anyway, she couldn't go, but she had found a fallback. Tabor asked if it was someone tall, handsome, and single! Of course, daughter smiled into the phone.

As you have probably guessed the fallback was her first choice. The son that she knew would enjoy the venue more than the other two. He seemed excited on FB to be going, but sometimes he was so unreliable.

Now she was standing in her closet with a pile of clothes on the floor. Everything made her look like a bag lady. Honest! She felt like a 16-year-old on a first date. She finally pulled out her reliable gray cords with the diamonds on the butt...that would fit with this crowd. She pulled on a cowl neck gray mohair and some silver beads. Monochromatic with her gray hair. Perfect, she grimaced. She would not fit, but she knew that no one would even see her in the crowded theater. But she didn't want to look to Mom-like with her son. More make-up...heavy on the eyes. It was a dark and informal place and she guessed the crowd might be a little noisier than she was used to. But she did so love this artist's music so very much.

So, since she was driving, something she hated and hated even more so in the rain, she spent several hours googling maps to both the meeting place in the city and the venue from the meeting place. Misgivings about getting lost be damned, she was determined to have a good time. The other kink was that after dropping her son off, she had to find her way back home. Since daughter was gone the S.I.L. had invited his parents down for the evening to help with swim lessons, etc. So at 11:00 P.M. in the rain she will be heading the long way back out of the city, hoping that she will not end up in some desolate area after getting lost.

If I post no more blogs, you will know what happened...or perhaps you will just be left to wonder.

Salt Is in the Air

Hubby left over a week ago and the days are now starting to wear quietly thin knowing he will not return for several more weeks. Fortunately the angles of the sun against the leaves of the trees and the visit of an osprey have helped pass the time. Today I blew the leaves off the deck and patio and the small back lawn. I startled a little gray frog that had set up his winter housekeeping at the corner of one of the steps under the leaves.

I then planted my 20 alliums, maroon and white, into a nice curve beside the chaste plant. I look forward to their blooming this summer.

I also got motivated and vacuumed the floors, cleaned all bathrooms, and dusted and polished furniture. When bored, Tabor fills her time with tasks that make her fill less guilty.

Then I sat down and poured myself a glass of Biltmore chardonney while I pondered how to industriously fill the rest of the day. Oh, nuts, I conceded. and just grabbed my camera and walked barefoot across the pointy gravel to the dock and began to do what I love the most, snap pictures. Below are photos of the lovely saltbush that grows prolifically along the riverside. It smells so musty and earthy this time of year and mimics the snows to come by throwing off its feathery seeds in your face as your saunter by. Be sure to click on the photos to really see the beauty of this bush.

Not Mr. Roger's Neighborhood

I just had my wrapping paper order delivered by a multi-millionare...well her mom is one anyway. They came via kayak. Is this an unusual neighborhood or what?

Missed Opportunity

Since I began blogging I realized that I had joined a family of writers and photographers and cooks (some anyway) with interesting ideas to share. I may not agree with everything they say, but all of them do express it so well and help me stretch my mind. The photo above is how close I came to Colleen's town and had we not been in such a rush to cross the mountains before dark, I just might have driven through the little town of Floyd and stopped in at the local cafe! I have been reading about this special town for several years and I am sure that I would have spotted Colleen right on playing a game of Scrabble. Missed opportunities are the story of my life.

What does amaze me is how many times I come close to where some blogger lives!

Bridging the Gap

One of my bloggers, Maggie, was right! Here above is one of the Hudson River view paintings.

Perhaps you have been watching the intriguing and important television series on MSNBC by Ken Burns, "The National Parks: America's Best Idea." If not, you are missing a compelling series on how difficult it was to set aside these unique natural areas (58 parks) in our country for generations to come so that they could see untouched natural beauty. The series talks about the wealthy and not-so-wealthy visionaries and outliers that made this dream come true. If you think that our natural resources are important to use and exploit for the economic security of our country, this series will drive you nuts. If, on the other hand, you feel at one with nature and do not live in fear that you might have to live in a cave some day, this series will reignite that lust to see all of our great country.

On my recent trip through Southern Virginia, my husband and I decided once again to see the Natural Bridge area which is a PRIVATELY owned natural wonder. This is a solid rock bridge carved by nature that is 20 stories high. It is well worth seeing, but getting there takes some fortitude. Because it is privately owned, the first stop is the massive parking lot with it's ugly signs and other non-natural attractions. Behind these signs is the view of the massive hotel where people stay so that they can leave their room and walk across the street to see this wonder.

The grand entry (photo below) where you must go to purchase a ticket includes a huge souvenir shopping area that has nothing to do with the natural wonders of this great country but is willing to sell you a lot of crap that will end up in the land fills of your back yard. Note the convenient ATM in the left side of the photo below.

Finally you can walk or take a shuttle bus down into the valley to finally see the natural bridge. It sits along a lovely rushing river. If you can ignore the bench seating for the evening light show about the creation of the earth, avoid the view of the huge speakers that now sit on top of the bridge nestled against the shrubbery, and also ignore the wedding taking place on the far left, you might imagine what this wonder would have looked like when first seen by America's early pioneers.

It is worth visiting, even though you will feel a little fleeced by the time you leave. Baaaaa!

A Place to Rest Your Head at the End of the Day

Travel requires some planning prior to departure on where one can stay. Well, some people pack a bag and pull into anywhere along the road. I have had a few experiences where a soccer tournament or a convention have forced me to stay 30 miles outside the city, so I always make reservations and have a plan. On my most recent trip I stayed at a Budget Inn that cost about $65 for the night. The room was very small, only two thin towels, a comfortable bed, no coffee pot or hair dryer, but clean. If I wanted to eat something I had to get in my car and drive a small distance as the restaurant across the parking lot did not smell all that good, really.

The second place that I stayed was a Fairfield Inn. This is the low end of the Marriott chain of rental residences and cost us just under $100 for the night. We got a hair dryer, good coffee, a large room with a sitting area, and a free communal breakfast area with make-your-own waffles or heat-your-own pastries and cereal, fresh fruits, and yogurt. Distance to nearby tourist areas was short. We are Marriott members so we also got points and discounts.

Our final place to stay for three nights was a B&B (Bed and Breakfast) out near the mountains of North Carolina. This was a lovely old home that had 10 bedrooms on three levels and has been an operating B&B for over 15 years. The rooms had interesting themes and the one I reserved was called 'Light and Shadows' and was the photography room with antique cameras and a magazine or two on photography. The quilt and decor was very nice. It had a small sitting area and a lovely claw-footed bathtub in the bathroom that was a challenge for me (who is in pretty good physical shape) to enter and exit. The bathroom had super thick towels, fragrant shampoos and soaps and a hair dryer. There was even a small private deck outside our bedroom with two small chairs to sit and look over the beautifully landscaped gardens. B& B's provide full breakfast and this one would even cook a dinner if you requested. The breakfasts were delicious and filling if not outstanding. There were two sitting rooms in the common area, one with a free computer access and lots of books to read. Artificial fireplaces were everywhere adding to a very cozy atmosphere. A small area was set up for coffee, tea or cappuccino at any time of the day or night. There were fresh homemade cookies waiting for us at the end of every hiking and touring day. There was no television, thank goodness. The cost was $130 per night.

Bed and Breakfast establishments are usually more expensive than staying at more predictable chains. Some of my friends stay at higher end hotels that cost between $200 and $300 a night and think that is a reasonable price to pay for what they expect. To some extent you get what you pay for in this world of travel. Location is probably the most important feature if you plan on seeing anything in the area.

B&Bs are not everyone's cup of cappuccino. They usually attract garrulous Garys and chatty Cathys; people who want to talk at breakfast before you head out and who want to hear about your day and tell you about theirs before you head up to bed. The Innkeepers themselves are great for communicating important information about the area and they love to hear about your experiences, because they live there and run an Inn and don't get out much anymore! Therefore, if you are a private and quiet person you may want to clarify this before you make reservations at a B&B so that the innkeeper can put you in the most remote bedroom and keep a smaller table available for you and your buddy at breakfast. OR you may wish to check into the nearby hotel.

The fun part of B&Bs is the people you meet. I ate breakfast with a young couple that live only two miles from my brother's house in Colorado! I ate another breakfast with a minister and his wife on their anniversary vacation and a couple from San Francisco who had not ever traveled much, so we could be the experts. I chatted with a widow whose husband had planned the trip months ago and then had a massive heart attack on Father's Day while fishing. She and her sister took the trip anyway as it helped her deal with her grief.

Of course, the real serendipity experience was learning our waitress at the local Italian restaurant downtown came from Sulawesi, Indonesia where my husband was heading in just a few days! He got to practice his Bahasa which he has not used in decades.

Travel is great for the historic places and natural scenery, but also fruitful for all the people that you meet.

(The photo is the Biltmore Estate...and I did NOT stay there.)

Autumnal Reverie

I am back in my quiet and familiar home but still feeling a bit disoriented. Both of these recent trips, the one to Colorado and the one to North Carolina, sort of came about like a haphazard fall of dominoes being back to back. They were planned but somehow took place like rushing river falls...both of which I saw on each of my journeys. My visit with my family was sweetly sad as we gathered together one afternoon to distribute the ashes of both of my parents and part of the ashes of my sweet younger sister who passed away a number of years ago. There was both laughter and tears and not much formal ceremony. We are not a formally religious family and calmly accepting of the way our lives have gone. The ashes now rest on the side of a mountain with a view of the fall valley, facing a regal mountain in an area that we all love, and in the evening the ceremony was blessed over a couple of bottles of Malbec.

I feel the closeness of the impermanence of time which hangs like a damp cloth about my shoulders when I return from unfamiliar territory. This bittersweet feeling is stronger because my husband left today for Indonesia and will be gone for many weeks. It is a small project from which he will make no money, but a project that he believes will help their government move into networking ecological projects. I love him enough to let him fly far away when he needs that. We put our heads together before he left to see what house errands could be completed before his departure.

I now move alone through the rooms unpacking and making piles of laundry and sorting piles of unread mail, which will help fill the coming days. The weather is sublimely misty and cold and seems in sync with my feelings.

House plants in pots, just a few this year, have been moved inside and back to their space by the breakfast corner windows and if the weather clears I will load some of the split wood into the wheelbarrow and move it to a rack by the porch. Then I will pull out the zinnias and other vines that need to be cleared. While I was gone I received a box of 50 new narcissus bulbs and a few allium bulbs that need to find homes in the yard and that will take another afternoon.

For the cool evenings that are to come I will fill by sorting and working with my many photos of the fall colors in the Blue Ridge and Great Smokies that filled me with joy as I took them. I also will smile as I review the photos of the animals, large and small, that let us visit their neck of the woods. I also have a grandchildren sitting job next week and that will make the week seem much less lonely and briefly crazy full.

My life is rich and made richer by the thoughtful comments on my blog while I was away.

She Is Never Home Anymore

I am off on another 5-day trip to a pear farm and the Biltmore and some leaf peeping! I know, I know. But, I am an old bag and I deserve a little fun before I head on out of this world. I promise I will take you along when I return vicariously. (I think I meant to write I will take you along vicariously when I return!!!)

In the meantime check out Jarielyn (cool name huh?) as she took up the five words meme baton from me a few days ago. She is a most creative writer, photographer and also is cuter than a ...well cute! Also, if you get bored, drop by my other blog for more posts on hiking in the beautiful Rocky Mountains.

Keep a place by fire, I'll be back.

Authentic Ski Town---Not

The historic town of Breckinridge? I found it has changed so much. I remember it as a small town where I could get a decent bowl of chile or a plate of hot enchiladas after a cold day of skiing. Back during my youth the few restaurants that were open were small and crowded with skiers in bulky jackets and ice crusted hats. Muddy snow covered the floors and the places were always noisy with energetic talk of great runs at the end of the day. People hurried through their meals as many of us had the long trip down the mountain and back home in the evening. Only a few stayed at the ski lodge.

The town has now morphed into a cutsey Yuppieville of boutiques and high-end souvenir shops complete with one of the best French bakeries in the state. The owners are very much French and the American waitress told me she had learned all the bad words of the language from the couple when they argued with each other during the day. Passionate couple I guess. The crepes are wonderful and the beignets are like sugar and air as they melt in your mouth. Forget the diets all ye who enter here. There are plenty of uncrowded restaurants in mid-September offering a wide variety of food.

We ate lunch on this patio at a Thai restaurant that was not run by Thai but served reasonably authentic food. I could have been eating anywhere including my city with the choices. The only genuine experience left was the dramatic view of the mountains on either side of the town. There were HUGE parking lots just outside of town where they shuttled people to the lift or into town. It must be a nightmare here during the ski season. (For all the hiking fun that I had on this trip you have to check out my other blog.)

Interestingly, everyone walking around this place looks young, healthy and like they have a trust fund!

Five Words That Changed My Life

I somehow knew that Kenju would be most interesting in sending me my five words for the blog meme that she recently completed. I do not complete memes in most cases, but my posting creativity has been dwindling and I thought this meme might be a motivator. "For this meme, you write about five words as they apply to your life." I could be nice and put the definitions...but I think most readers can look them up in the online dictionaries. I must admit that I found this meme more uncomfortable than I thought as I progressed and the title of this blog is a lie!

brave: I have learned bravery by allowing/making myself to live in other cultures in other countries with people who do not speak my language. To be removed from all that you know and to have your ideas and beliefs challenged on a daily basis and to be forced to really think about communication as a means of solving problems, is a brave way of living. To survive this challenge and allow yourself to change is also brave and I think I have successfully traveled through that fire.

epitaph: This word is the scariest for me, but not because I fear dying. I just think that there is not much I have done that is memorable in this life. I have tried to live a good and honest life but that in itself is not worthy of a memorable epitaph. To me an important epitaph means you have changed the lives of others for the better in a significant way. I hope I still am granted a few more decades to work this out!

imagination: Having an imagination that is active and fertile is important in any life. I imagined that I would travel, I imagined that I would raise a beautiful (if not perfect) family and I imagined that I would be reasonably happy. When you believe in what you imagine you work out the issues and you change your approach and adjust your goals so that this can all come true. I think I have not allowed my imagination to run away with me, but I have allowed it to soar so that I can always have a long-term vision of the goals ahead. Imagination is a very important tool in life.

salute: The image that this word brought instantly to my mind was when some of the Republicans made fun of how Clinton saluted his marine staff, clearly showing he was not part of the military. When I see this word I remember when I allowed the conservatives to take my patriotism away from me. I allowed myself to question how I was showing my real feelings for our soldiers and I regret that. Now I know that I have always supported our troops and that all of our brave troops are both conservative and liberal in their philosophies. Being true to my beliefs does not make me unpatriotic any more than wearing a flag on my lapel makes me a patriot.

tempest: Over the years I have learned that I hate tempests and now I always avoid them. Tempests created by crazy relatives with bad habits or self-centered and insecure co-workers are the worst! Ninety-nine percent tempests are false and artificially created to distract and dismay. The only real tempests are those that have to do with the weather. My philosophy these days is to listen to and to share my time with those who can remain calm in the eye of the storm. The storm will pass and you will notice that things will be much the same if the tempest is not real.

(Want me to send you five words?)

Working for the Soul

I have posted elsewhere (FB and emails) about my days of work recently. The cool fall weather, the dormancy of ticks, and the necessity of the size of weeds at summers end have motivated us to clear parts of the forest on either side of the long drive to the house. The wooded view as we drove in was no longer enticing and welcoming, but more like spooky and scary, and while appropriate for the Halloween season, it seems out of place when welcoming guests at other times of the year.

We have now cleared the leaning and/or dead trees that rested against each other and formed a sheltered structure for the wild roses that in turn learned to climb to the tops of the lovely and healthy maples, dogwood, and holly trees and shaded them from sun. I pruned limbs and prickly vines and then piled them beside the road in the clearing. We had piles of dead wood and piles of scratchy brush all of which was later gathered in our arms and placed in the old wooden trailer we use for hauling large amounts of 'stuff'. Hubby bravely climbed on top and did the elephant dance to smash it all down so that we could grab more armfuls and put on top once again.

Frequently the angry roses would grab our butts and legs refusing to be dumped. I still have a tiny thorn in my arm that will have to fester its way to the surface.

Hubby and I argued about what wood to take to the dump and what to cut into firewood. We have enough firewood to last through the winter of 2012, so I was inclined to get rid of much of the wood. (This will ensure that global climate change really will be global warming.) This photo is just one of the long piles we have waiting for the first cold weather. The problem is that some of this wood is old and some still too new for burning and in our dedicated rhythm we were not as careful in stacking as we should have been.


The wrens and the flickers were not happy that we took away so much dead wood, but eventually forgave us when they saw how may broken tree stumps we left behind for them to poke through. They will have a rich larder of wood insects through the coming snows. We also left enough small bush areas for the mice and other small animals to find shelter.


The free crepe myrtle that was planted at the end of my flower bed two years ago got moved with the help of Pedro. He works for a landscape company and knows exactly how to dig and move small trees. The shape of the crepe was not long and lean but more like an umbrella-shaped weeping willow, and therefore, taking up too much flower bed space. We (actually Pedro and hubby did the work) also joined the two flower beds and I now have a good sunny place to transplant my scattered roses this fall. (More work!)

This is the crepe myrtle shape I had hoped for!

My new rose bed.

After these past three days, the old joints ache with fatigue and overuse and my arms are scratched as if I had wrestled with a mountain cat, but soaking in my jacuzzi in the late afternoon before starting dinner was a reward enjoyed so much more because of my hard work. I am thankful that I do not hate hard work. I am thankful that the goal is its own reward for me. Besides, now I don't have to do any exercises this week!

The Wireless Web

This is my old Belkin wireless. I was on travel and when I returned, retrieved my PC and plugged everything back in, I noticed the state of this router. Do you think the spiders are clogging the network and the reason for the slowness of my PC? (HA!)

Looking Back Through the Looking Glass

When I was about fourteen I read "The Dairy of Anne Frank" and it captured me totally. As an adult I re-read the diary and was even more impressed by the beauty of her writing and the terrible tragedy that she could not live to realize her full potential.

I found this on the Internet: "Ha'aretz, the Israeli newspaper, is showing remarkable footage today. The Frank House, in Amsterdam, has realeased this short 20-second video snippet from the life of Anne Frank. The video was shot approximately a year before Frank and her family went into hiding. "

The context of this video is compelling and this has certainly made me pensive for the rest of this day.

Happy Harvest

I spent the better part of today 'cleaning' the forest. This meant cutting back nasty wild roses, removing dead limbs from trees, and trying to drag stubborn vines from around trees. I even cut one poison ivy vine that was about 2 inches across and covered with those tell-tale spidery roots that cling to the tree trunk.

Hubby spent time cutting the large pieces of wood into manageable size for our small wood-burning fireplace. We now have enough cut wood (some even split) for at least three winters. That is good, because much of this needs drying and aging time. I loaded each log into the wheelbarrow and pushed to the wood pile where I spent careful time stacking. The process is something like building a rock wall in that wood pieces must be selected according to shape and size before placing on the pyramid of wood. Once it is all stacked it makes an interesting wall.

This afternoon I am harvesting the last of the garden. We do not have too many more days of growing weather with the cool nights. I have made enough pesto, roasted tomato sauce, and frozen enough beans to make me feel very full of food already.

Our fridge is now full of salsa and pickled hot peppers to warm us in the coming cold nights.

My project this evening is shredding the 30 or so carrots that, while not very pretty, do have a reasonably sweet flavor and will make delicious carrot cake. (I have admitted defeat on the large box of spaghetti squash which is stored in our basement and will accept that the mice may get to much of it before us.)

Tomorrow I am going to try "Butternut Squash au Gratin" from a recipe sent by my daughter. Add enough butter and cheese to any squash and it becomes quite delicious if no longer healthy.

I think this is going to defeat the small weight loss from my Colorado mountain hiking.

Too Much Information or Not Enough?

Most bloggers do not write about their family. It is personal stuff and you have to be very honest and out front with your life once you begin. I am anonymous just so that I can write about people who, I hope, will also remain anonymous while I try to sort out their lives.

You will realize from this post that my family, while loving and generous of spirit, are terrible communicators. They tend to avoid the painful reality of life. It might be because they know that we cannot do anything about the painful decisions of others or it might be that sharing doesn't really ease their concerns, or perhaps they are embarrassed by the "perfect" lives that they think all the rest of us have. All of these people I have learned about below, are not blood relatives...not that that makes any difference.

I learned on this past family trip the following news. Some of it was explained only after embarrassing comments on my part because I did not know what the H*** was going on!.

My step-niece (who has no health insurance and no husband) thought she was pregnant, thought she miscarried three months later, then gave birth to a baby in her mother's house, all alone one afternoon early this summer. She had been raised on a horse farm and actually explained to me all the precautions she took, including adjusting for the fact that the water heater pilot light had broken that morning, in order to deliver this baby all by herself! The child was born safely for the mother (28 years old). After a helicopter flight to the hospital when the child had trouble breathing they discovered that the child has an incomplete brain and is missing part of the back lobes. This appears to be a genetic disorder that will mean my step-niece should not have any other children. There are those who know only too well all the terrible issues with this situation. All I know is that currently the child is off of oxygen and is eating and growing and is very precious. This mother's life has changed forever. The father of this child has four children in a current marriage and an illegitimate child from another relationship. TMI.

My step-niece's brother, a marine just back from Iraq, was goofing around with other marines this past spring and appears to have ruptured a disk and now requires spinal fusion. Thus his life is now also changed forever, probably ending his hope to enter the police force when he is released from service.

My other step-nephew from another family came with his 7-year-old daughter to a family BBQ and it wasn't until later in the evening that someone bothered to mention he has been divorced for over a year. That was when I stopped asking him if his wife was working late!

All of the rest of the gang seems to be living reasonably normal lives with normal challenges.