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|Friday, October 1st, 2010|
So, I'm at work and just gone out to the playground. One of my co-workers runs over to me and asks if I know anything about birds.
"Uh, the local birds maybe..."
She is nearly bouncing as she tells me, "The kids and I saw this amazing bird! It was red, and it had a thing on it's head like this..." She sticks four fingers out from her forehead. It looks ridiculous and I laugh.
"Oh, yeah," I say. "That's a turkey."
"A wha...? No, no. Like this." She makes the gesture again and wiggles her fingers.
"Yeah, it's a turkey," I say, not really serious. Privately, I think it was a cardinal, but I don't intend to tell her so yet. She's still shaking her head so I say, "Did anyone else see this magical 'red bird' of yours?"
"Well... the kids. Hey, don't look at me like that. It was red, and it had a thing on it's forehead like a... like a peacock."
"Oh," I say, pretending enlightenment. "That's a phoenix."
To my surprise she nods enthusiastically. "Hey, yeah! I think it WAS a phoenix." She peers up through gray clouds. "Do you think we get them in Seattle in this kind of weather?"
I nearly choked. Magical birds, indeed.
|Saturday, July 31st, 2010|
|Monday, February 15th, 2010|
|What do I Do with this?
So, this has been quite the productive month, art-wise. A painting I've been working on is almost finished, I've finished another stick person, and now - voila! I've completed a five-foot long kaleidoscope, complete with the turny-thingamagig at the other end. You can see this masterpiece of non-funtional fun here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/muse_ing/sets/72157623319401669/
Note that the outside isn't decorated yet. This is because I'm trying to figure out how to keep it collapsible - it can't stay on my kitchen table all the time, right?
What I need to figure out now is: what am I going to do with all this stuff? I mean, I can't just mail a giant kaleidoscope to Mom for Mother's Day. How would I pack it? What would she do with it when she got it? No, I need to figure out somewhere I can show it, or donate it, or make sure it's being used in someone else's space.
|Friday, July 3rd, 2009|
I posted some pictures of my textile art to flikr. And if you don't quite "get it," it really is okay with me. http://www.flickr.com/photos/muse_ing/sets/72157617992047424/
The stick people are easy to explain: I like textures and organic looking 3-d forms, and I was interested in how far you could change a human form and still recognize it as vaguely humanoid. "Stick people" is a little bit of a pun - I usually start with a real stick and let the shape guide me. Partly, I was inspired by the stick figures drawn by the children in my class (you know, the kind with two legs and no neck, and arms that go out all the way to the edge of the page and have fingers made out of long lines). But I think I mostly just like sticks and shapes and yarn.
Miss Moss went the other way around. I saw a tree on the way home one day and I said, "Hmm... That moss looks just like some velveteen I have." So I worked to make her look as if she'd grown somewhere, like a tree. She has pieces of real moss on her, pinecone growths, and felted yarn "fungus" or spanish moss here and there. After I took these pictures I changed her eyes a little and planted seedlings in the back of her head.
Miss Moss is not supposed to stay on a shelf. My intention for her is that she goes into a park or something in a real tree, and stays there while she gets really, truly mossy, and maybe the plant on the back of her head grows, and maybe the birds take part of her hair or stuffing for their nests. Hopefully, I'll find a good tree branch where she'll be safe from people who might remove her, and if all goes well I'll be able to take pictures of her as she becomes less what I made and more what nature begins to make her.
|Thursday, June 25th, 2009|
Stop motion update:
I've been working on a (really cutesy) short stop motion film. I haven't finished it, but you can view the test video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFhnq8k8e78
Bear in mind that I'm just using my camera and the software that came with my computer.
|Monday, August 18th, 2008|
|hooray for me!
If you've read my blogs, you know I love teaching preschool, and that I recently left my regular job to take some time off and figure out where I need to be now.
After a lot of thought and wrestling around with ideas, I approached my former boss, Cheryll, about starting a small preschool/child care with me. It's something I'd thought about but didn't want to jump into all alone. We sat down last week and hashed out ideas, and we talked about what we wanted to start with and what we wanted it to look like later. Cheryll has done this before, so she had information about everything from taxes to how to arrange vacations, and some good guesses about costs. We left with an agreement and our own "to do" lists.
It looks like this is really going to happen! I'll be looking for a site beginning in late November. If everything falls together exactly right, we could be open as soon as February - but only if everything goes right the first time.
I'm going to be a small business owner! I'm going to get to teach the way I always wanted to! (Insert much throwing of confetti and happy dancing here!)
|Claire, flying free (thanks, Rachelle)
I went to see Claire Mack's art at her opening reception at the Shift Studio a couple weeks ago. I know Claire, but not well. We used to be neighbors when I lived in Wallingford. You can see some of her work here: http://www.clairemack.com/
I walked into the room where Claire's work was being shown, and the first thing I noticed on the wall was a divorce. At least, that's how it hit me. It was different images of parts of a person, in 2-D and 3-D, with a gold ring on either side. The blood in the heart at the center was running out to the bottom of the work, and there was writing about love near the rings.
Claire came over to me and we chatted for a few seconds before I gestured to the piece I'd noticed. "I've been there," I said. She gave a laugh and a nod and I went on to look at the other work.
The paintings you can see on her webpage, but the 3-D art isn't there and it's fabulous. My favorite piece was a collection of a dozen organic-looking gold cages containing objects, like broken paper eggs or a feather or an origami bird. Most of the cages were empty, doors open, as if something had escaped from them and flown away. When I looked closely at the paper objects I could see they were made from letters with some pretty intense wording.
I came around back to Claire and I said, "I see a lot of things growing, or breaking free and flying away."
"Yeah," Claire said. "I'm going through a divorce right now."
"I saw," I said, nodding to the first work I'd noticed.
Claire seemed a little surprised, but not unhappy. "Wow, it's great that you got that! Let me show you something."
Claire took me to the middle of the room where there was a collection of three white hands in mossy mini-gardens. She pointed to the middle one, which held a little gold bird cage with the door open. The bird inside was lifting its wings as though it were getting ready to fly away.
"Rachelle gave me that bird in a cage, and she said something... Anyway, the birdcage became the inspiration for all of the new work."
(Rachelle is my former housemate. I can easily imagine what she would have said to Claire, because she's said similar things to me. She will, as a habit, listen to you rant and weep and rage on, and then paint a verbal metaphor in ten seconds or less that will sustain you through the worst situation of your life and then some. E.g.: Thanks, Rachelle - see what you did again?)
I went around and looked at everything a second time because the work had sparked lots of emotions for me - letting go, flying away, being sad, feeling in pieces, feeling free, feeling new. The images and metaphors Claire had used really worked for me. When something works like that, I always say it's "good" art. You all should go look and see if it works for you, too.
|Friday, July 18th, 2008|
Things too short to blog about at length:
-Really need to get a couple more vases. Only have one vase that will hold a number of flowers, but bouquets I get at the market easily make three. Do think snifters are pretty, but sooner or later someone is actually going to want to drink brandy out of them.
-Can't believe people are sending in their copy a week after it's due and the day before the ad is supposed to go out. Way to make my life a little more difficult, folks.
-Seem to have lost my first check from this job. Could probably ask to have a new one issued (they are going to notice it's not cashed anyway) but I'm a little leery of doing so for someone whom I'm working for on a trial basis. Good sense says it must still be around the desk somewhere. Intuition says it's in the bedroom. Have checked both places thoroughly, as well as every room in the apartment and the freezer. Ah, the joys of having ADD.
- Have noticed that the people who use the word "erudite" in conversation often are, but are same people who read Nietzsche for fun. Have made it a general policy to have lots of fun engaging them in conversation, but avoid dating them at all costs.
-Some guy wrote me an email saying he was looking for a nice woman who was "well-behaved." Wrote a long blog about this, later deleted, which I will summarize here: HA HA HA HA HA! Not even on my best days. Or maybe even less so on my best days. Ended the blog with "Shoo! Before the Speaker of the House falls on you, too!" Which only goes to show that the things you think are clever at 2AM don't tend to be when read again in broad daylight.
-Speaking of which, the new profile blurb/non-picture has seemed to cut down dramatically on the number of creepy Myspace emails. This is a Good Thing, as I had grown tired of happily going to my inbox only to discover 4 of 6 messages hoping I had a webcam.
-Finally have gotten together with Alicia, and have discovered she has a hat blog. A HAT blog! What a great idea!
-Have discovered that being "musically easy" can have it's advantages, because I can be perfectly happy to listen to Beethoven's 9th, Shaggy, the Smiths, Julie London, the Singing Milkmaids, Iggy Pop, Magnetic Fields, AC/DC and Shania Twain in quick succession and be happy as a clam. Lucky me, because I live above a bar where all (except the Beethoven and maybe the Milkmaids) will be played in quick succession on karaoke nights.
-Missing hiking. Was pretty much all I did last summer and haven't gone much this year. Think I'm going to fix that this weekend - yay!
|Sunday, June 22nd, 2008|
Once a year my neighborhood has a big party that lasts for two days. It starts with nude bicyclists, has a parade and a pageant in the middle, and ends with a street fair and live music. This is the best time of year to be living in Fremont!
It so happens that I didn't see much of the parade this year despite my new great view of it, because I was volunteering over at one of the Solid Ground tents. (Solid Ground, by the way, is a fantastic organization. I used to work closely with them and they have a huge network of support for people with low or no incomes. Please go support the Fremont Fair!) I still was able to see people in costume walking around before and after, and the staff manning the tent were nice enough to let me sneak out and look a few times.
Since I couldn't make use of the view from my apartment I invited Amelia and Lindell over, and they got some great photos of the parade. I think Amelia sent one, via email, to Rachelle, who is now in Europe pining for her Seattle Sun Rituals. I don't blame her. If I weren't here I'd be pining, too.
I loved seeing the Fremont Arts Council people with the props that I recognized from prior years. I loved seeing a friend of mine painted shimmery blue and sporting a peacock tail. I loved shopping at the fair. And I love that everyone is still here, enjoying the weather and making merry.
|Monday, June 2nd, 2008|
|DVD Scavenger Hunt
I made this up in a moment of eye-rolling at the "new release" section at Scarecrow.
Divide up into teams. Go to a nice, big movie rental store and collect as many points as you can by looking at the video/dvd boxes. Words on front and back of the box both count. Meet at the front in half an hour and determine who racked up the most points.
1. For the phrase "rag-tag band of survivors /motley crew of survivors" +5
add 2 points if the words "post-apocalyptic" appear
add 5 points if the combination "rag-tag, motley crew (or band)" all appear
add 2 points if your band of survivors is fighting vampires or zombies
2. For "a race against time" +3
add 3 points if the words "before it’s too late" also appear
add 2 points if "before it’s too late?" is a question (We all know the answer; sheesh!)
3. For "the best/greatest love story of all time" +8
BUT subtract 2 if the word "arguably" appears before the phrase,
AND subtract 2 if it’s only the "best/greatest love story of our generation,"
4. For the word "classic" +2
add 2 extra points if it’s a "classic tale"
BUT subtract 2 points if you found it in the "classic movies" (or equivalent) section.
5. For the phrase "a clue to his/her/their/the past" +5
add 2 points if someone has gone to a remote area "looking for a clue to …"
add 5 points if someone has gone to his/her childhood home "looking for a clue to…"
6. For "the best/funniest movie of the year" +3
add 2 points for every movie in the SAME YEAR that is also the "best movie of the year"
add 8 points if the same reviewer in the same year called it "the best movie of the year"
BUT subtract 2 points if it’s only "one of the best"
7. If "nothing is what it seems" +3
9. If it’s a "powerful and moving" story or it "keeps you on the edge of your seat" +2
|Monday, May 19th, 2008|
Many of you know that I took the week off from work and went up to Lake Chelan for a conference. I didn't let my director know I was going or ask her to reimburse me. It's hardly fair to ask the center to pay me to go look for another job, after all, and that was exactly what I intended to do.
You know what I love about working in a field that is saturated with women? Networking is ridiculously easy. As women, we know what we're up against and so we tend to help each other as a matter of course. As soon as I arrived I saw Amber (whose organization was hosting the conference) and she came right over and gave me a big hug and said, "I'm so glad you came! I thought about you. You just tell me what kind of a job you want, and I'll introduce you to people."
She did, and I did pretty well on my own, too. By the end I had talked to the head of the local agency that hires teacher trainers (who sought me out to let me know there was an opportunity opening up in September), had an offer of mentorship from a woman who's an independent contractor, and had cocktails with a very nice woman who had bought, "fixed" and sold several child care centers. She insisted that I could start my own business and there was no reason why I shouldn't.
I sort of shrugged off the start-up business idea - until the third or fourth person said the same thing. And they all said similar things: "Oh, we didn't think we could do it either, but we did," or "Oh, we didn't know anything about (taxes, accounting, licenses), but we learned as we went." So I'm going to give some serious consideration to making a job for myself outside the box.
All in all, I left in a good mood, with lots of contact information for different people. It's becoming increasingly clear to me that I have more options than I thought I had and that there are people who are willing to help me muddle through the career change.
And besides, the hot tub at the hotel was lovely.
Meanwhile, I had a phone interview Tuesday for a grant writing position (why, yes, I have written successful grants) and got in touch with someone at Ryther about the night shift - which certainly wouldn't be ideal but which would pay the bills if I needed my days free.
In short, no new job yet but things are looking good. Send me good vibes, people (or better yet, good leads)!
P.S. Since I seem to be having a midlife crisis, maybe someone ought to teach me to drive a stick now.
|Thursday, January 3rd, 2008|
|What Goes Around...
So I spent two weeks in Colorado with family. It was good for the most part, and I was able to see a high school friend I haven't been able to talk face-to-face with in years (Who has a teenage daughter - Talk about feeling your age!)
But a funny thing happened on the way back from Montrose, and it just goes to show that making bad Karma will come around to bite you in the ass.
Against the advice of my mother, I went to the airport a couple hours early. Lucky I did, because the itty-bitty regional airport I was flying out of had hundreds of people waiting in the line for the security check. (The most I'd ever seen there were maybe a dozen people.) I made it through security just a minute or two before boarding, but not everyone was quite as savvy about showing up early. As a result my flight was held up for an additional half an hour while another dozen people got through security and (insert eye roll here) checked baggage they should have known they couldn't carry on.
I missed my connecting flight in Salt Lake City. So did nine other people on my plane who were going to Seattle.
In Salt Lake I finally figured out where I needed to be and I went to those little phone stands where you have to call to get a new flight, and as I went to an empty phone I heard a guy from my plane shouting into the next phone over.
"I have never been treated this way in my entire life!" (I'm not kidding: he really spewed that out old clunker of a line.) "What is the matter with you people! There are a dozen people here who missed the flight! Couldn't you wait for a dozen people who didn't get the flight? ...Well, you should have held the flight! This is incredibly poor service!..." And so on.
I reflected that if our connecting flight had waited for us, probably a couple dozen of the people on that flight would have missed their connections, and I picked up my phone and explained to the booking agent what had happened. She asked if I wanted to be on standby, and I said no, I wanted the first sure thing available, please.
"Okay, looks like there are some people on other phones trying to get seats, too," she said. "I've got two seats available at nine tonight, and they're both first class - it looks like you get a free upgrade...Okay, all done. And there goes the last seat to Seattle tonight; I guess you lucked out. You can go print your ticket at the booth next to you."
I thanked her profusely and hung up.
As I was printing up my ticket I could still hear Complaining Guy: "I have not been rude and threatening! You're in customer service, customers have complaints!"
Meanwhile, Complaining Guy's wife was interjecting, "Ask for his Supervisor! Ask for his supervisor!"
Complaint Guy continued right on, "Well, that's NOT helpful! I need a plane to Seattle!"
Now, here's the part where Life Has a Little Lesson: Complaining Guy was on the phone before me, remember? And the booking agent I talked to had two seats left. So it turns out that if Mr. Rude had calmed down and asked for seats instead of shouting about how poorly he was being treated, he and his wife would have had a flight out that night.
As it was, when I boarded my plane for Seattle there was a list of twenty-five people on standby and no flights the next day because of weather.
I do love those rare times when the good guy finishes first...Happy New Year, everyone!
|Saturday, June 2nd, 2007|
|Having a wonderful time
Wish you were here...
Oh, wait, you are! Or at least some of you are. As I wrote before, I took a couple vacation days but didn't leave Seattle.
I figured it was a good time to catch up on those things that I always mean to do but don't, so I stayed at someone else's house and babysat for their (silly) cat and pretended to be a tourist.
I visited SAM and the downtown library. I went to movies, I took myself out to lunch a lot and shopped on Capitol Hill. (For as much as I spent at Red Light this week I probably could have gone to Paris instead. Oh, well - I have a cute hat and another mod dress now, so no regrets.) I read cheap fiction, and pretended to practice my violin, which I still don't really play (This was before I broke the bridge. Sigh.).
I discovered that even though a TV with cable receives more than 100 channels, it doesn't mean there is anything to watch. I did look for the show that Jen is on sometimes, but I could never figure out the time and, in any case, I don't think she was on this week. Sorry Jen - I did try.
I discovered I love the revised SAM. I advise everyone to go right visit right away. I never found the old museum very interesting, but the new place not only has some good pieces, but has them arranged in ways that are really eye-catching. It made me want to go back again and browse around longer in the parts I liked best.
At first glance I thought I loved the new library; it's architecturally playful and there's an eye-candy surprise around every corner. Then I tried to find a place to sit down with a book.
Clearly, the person who designed the library hadn't thought about the fact that people might want to go there to read. In fact, there's a nearly hostile teaser in the red hall: a nice, comfy reading room behind a glass wall, with no way to get in that I could see. Come on people, who designs a library with no place to look at a book? Pft!!!
I'm done with my mini-vacation now, but it's been some of the most relaxing time off I've ever had.
|Saturday, April 28th, 2007|
I went to an Iggy and the Stooges concert last night, and I was right near the front. I've got bruises on my upper arms from bouncing into people, but the best summary of the concert comes from a guy I heard while walking out:
"Man, you know it's a good show when you leave covered in other
|Monday, April 23rd, 2007|
|Mellow Sunday and Parker-esque Poem
Had a massage, and then went shopping downtown. Bought some movies and had a good time wandering. The nice guy at the bookstore knew of a Mexican restaurant open on a Sunday evening. Everyone who likes their food at least moderately spicy must go to Cocina-Santiago on Capitol Hill and order the chile rellenos.
Wandered to Twice Told Tales. Had hot chocolate at Vivace (Their hot chocolate is passable, but nothing special.). It was okay, though, because I had Dorothy Parker with me and Dorothy Parker is always something special.
Came home writing a Parker-esque poem: Lines to a Young Writer at Vivace. It was written for a very intense-looking young lady with green and black hair.
The Vivace Poem:
May her poems be full of grief
And give her readers aching sorrow;
May her verses let her reap
Glory, Fame, and Cash tomorrow.
May she write of death and pain
And other topics that she loves:
Cemeteries down the lane
And bloody breasts of turtledoves
May there never be a lack
Of kids who think she's fresh and new
So she can buy a house of black
A blood-red dress, a car of blue.
May that car be two seats deep
And may she never need to bus -
Nor be a waitress just to keep
From starving, like the rest of us.
Of course, I'm not a waitress, and never have been. But good luck, punk-ish goth girl: may all your dreams come true!
|Sunday, April 22nd, 2007|
I used to walk into the used music stores, wedge myself in whatever little space they'd given over to the die-hard vinyl fans, and start browsing to sound of the "click-clack" of the CD buyers shuffling plastic, hoping that the allergic reaction to the dust I was raising wouldn't be too bad. I used to be able to snag up any LP for 99¢, but not any more. I'm embarrassed to say how much I paid for the last record I really wanted.
Sure, there's something sensual about sliding a record out of the cover, and then the sleeve, and lowering a needle, slowly, to your song. And, yes, it's true that you can't get the same experience pushing a button on your computer or popping a cold metal disc into a high-tech machine. I just didn't want everyone else to know that.
Oh, people, people. Stop messing around in my personal joys. I want my 99¢ bin back.
|Tuesday, April 17th, 2007|
|The road to...Prosser?
In the beginning, there were two people, one car, a weekend road trip, and no destination.
Eight weeks later there were six people, multiple ideas for destinations, at least two trips, two cars, a first possible "go" date in June, and the possible rental of a partridge in a pear tree...I mean the possible rental of an RV. None of which I object to per se.
On the contrary, anything I can do with friends is good, and the farther away from home, the better. (Not that I don't love my home, but I think I have a leftover mindset from watching Star Blazers and Star Wars as a kid - all the really good adventures take place far, far away.) But as six people ate dinner together and we laid out our grand and glorious plans, I wondered: how did we get from that to this?
Luckily, my eyes met with Melissa's over the table.
"Let's just go," she mouthed.
"Next weekend?" I asked very quietly.
She nodded. We lifted our wine to toast each other and then continued with our other friends to plan for the Grand and Glorious Adventure that would come later.
I think we would both have liked to go for the whole weekend, but what we had time for was a day trip. Mis arrived promptly at eight-thirty the next Saturday morning. Right away I could tell we were going to have a good time, because neither of us had had breakfast and I was in favor of an omelet…
"There's an IHOP in the U-district -" I began.
Mis looked disappointed.
"Or we could just go east and see where we land," I finished hastily.
Mis brightened up right away. Travel plan (or lack of plan) compatibility achieved!
I was even more certain that we were going to have a good day when she popped in one of Jordan's CDs. Jordan is a great guy, but of more relevance here is that his music is particularly travel-friendly and exceptionally singable.
I am not especially musical, but not only did Mis not mind my singing in the car, she happily sang along. Travel compatibility test number two, passed with flying colors.
The very first song began with the line, "Take a drive on a day when there's nothing else to do…" How could we not sing to that? By the fourth song we were picking our parts to the bits that lent themselves easily to harmony.
As it turns out, there's also an IHOP in Issaquah. Issaquah is not the Great Unknown, of course, but the point was that A Precedent Had Been Set. We went east until we saw a road that looked interesting, and then we turned. NO MAPS ALLOWED!!!
We made some false guesses as the day went on. Some roads were dead ends. One time we ended up heading toward a military base by accident, and were only turned right way around when we hit the checkpoint. But some roads were fabulous: sweet little niches we would never have found if we hadn't been exploring, interesting towns, fantastic views, and un-named rivers went past as we scatted with Ella Fitzgerald.
The drive was exactly what I'd had in mind. Mis was happy to take turns choosing CDs, smoked only twice and shared her cigarette both times, and laughed at my jokes. It's important if you are going more than 100 miles with anyone that they should think your stupid jokes about the exit signs are funny. Otherwise you may as well turn around and go home.
Eventually, by a highly circuitous route, we ended up in Prosser. Where on earth, you might wonder, is Prosser? We didn't know either, but we stopped there for a late lunch.
I was tickled pink by the placemat ads. They were so cute and kitschy that they reminded me immediately of my hometown. It reminded Melissa of hers, too; so much so that she ordered biscuits and gravy. Biscuits and gravy, people! I laughed right out loud at that. If you don't know why it's funny, I really can't explain. Luckily, Mis was amused as well. I can't think what I would have said if she'd asked me what the chuckles were for.
After lunch we went exploring in town, and at an antique store I found a small table that was exactly the right size to go next to my bed – and it had a cupboard for books!
So I went to pay for it, and the store – a fairly sizable, busy store right on the main street – wouldn't take a debit card. I don't even carry checks anymore! Who takes a check these days? The woman chided me for not realizing that "this is a small town, Honey! We had one of them card machines…oh, couple years ago, for about six months, and only four people asked to use it. We ain't got none of that kind of thing here any more." She didn't know what an ATM was or where one might be.
By then I was bound and determined to have the little table that the woman had told me was originally used for storing tobacco and cigars. The woman pointed me to the nearest bank, and they did, thankfully, have an ATM. And so, triumphant, with Cute Little Table safely in the back seat, Melissa and I headed back out on the road. No discoveries of hidden planets today, but close enough for me.
The drive back to Seattle was much quicker, since we knew where we were going. And the last CD I picked clinched it: we need a much lengthier road trip with more singable CDs and more days and more road.
Thanks Melissa! You made my week!
Addendum from Mis' blog: Some Rebecca Stories:
Rebecca and i went on a little road trip on Saturday. We wanted to just drive. And we did. Over the 90 bridge she pulled out her notebook and took note of some people rowing on the water. I had just said something funny and was hoping she was writing that down. She said she wasn't but she could. I laughed and said, "just quote me warmly and accurately" which is a line from Almost Famous but i didn't cite my source because she laughed.
Rebecca and I sang outloud in the car. We started with Jordan O'Jordan. She paused mid-song and said, "do you mind if i sing out loud?" I paused mid-off-key-belt and said, "huh? no. I can't even hear you over myself." And so we sang. During an O Brother Where Art Thou song we harmonized oh so well and she giggled and said, "You're a genius!" and then I messed up the chorus. But, as a true friend, she didn't acknowledge it.
Take a drive on a day when there's nothing else to do
I don't know where I'll go, I just know I'll get there with you
(I know about you, I know about you, I know about you)…
And the vehicle we're driving's not important to arrive in
We could get there by balloon or sinking ship
And a final destination is not my real inclination…
It's the trip.
- Jordan O'Jordan Current Mood: bouncy
|Tuesday, March 27th, 2007|
Four kinds of waterfalls:
1. The kind that drips, one bead at a time, from a mossy rock wall onto the ground
2. The kind that drizzles in long, silver streams over the edges of the rock
3. The kind that hits hard and bounces down in little drops, like pearls thrown down a flight of stairs
4. The kind that all rushes down together like an upturned basket of lace
Saw them all while hiking at Boulder River Trail on Sunday. My friends Phoebe and Zoe are great people to hike with. They stop to examine things, and invite you to look/touch, too. If you tell them, "Look at that!" they will both stop and take a good, long look.
Yeah, it rained all day. It still doesn't get any better than this.
|Tuesday, February 13th, 2007|
Your results:You are Poison Ivy
Click here to take the Supervillain Personality Quiz
||You would go to almost any length for the protection of the environment including manipulation and elimination.
|Saturday, December 23rd, 2006|
If you don’t know any four and five-year-olds, let me tell you a couple things about them: they have big, big eyes and they can make very sad faces. And so it goes. All the other classes were making holiday cookies, so of course my class wanted to make cookies.
An anecdote to keep in mind as I relate my story: Many months ago, in the heat of a passionate moment with some squash soup, I asked my housemate to teach me to cook something uncomplicated that I could serve for dinner guests. She happily acquiesced, but after thirty minutes of watching her perform what I can only describe as alchemy, I thought (with a certain amount of surprise), “Huh. I actually don’t like this very much. I’ve finally found a hobby I don’t want to take up.”
However, because my kids made sad, sad eyes at me, and because it is the middle of Hanukkah and Solstice and it’s almost Christmas, I went to the store to buy pre-made cookie dough and frosting in spite of my dislike for kitchen alchemy. I hoped buying the dough instead of making it would help me avoid most of the pitfalls of my general ineptitude in the culinary arts. This supposedly trouble-free method earned me my first criticism from a child in my class, “B.”
“My mommy doesn’t buy dough at the store,” he said. “My mommy and I mix it all up in a bowl with butter and sugar and stuff.”
This is what I thought: “Your mommy very likely has experience and knowledge of baking that add up to more one day of a two week unit on cooking in seventh grade home ec. class.”
This is what I said: “I’m not sure we have time for that this afternoon. But we can put on lots of frosting!”
I won’t talk much about the problems of when or when not to grease/flour cookie sheets. Suffice to say I made a choice based on the directions (or lack thereof) on the back of the package.
The kids ate the cookie dough while cutting cookies. I understand this: it’s a time-honored tradition among small children. Generally they wait till I’m “not looking” and I pretend not to see. But there always has to be some stodgy, rule-abiding child who announces to me, “Teacher, teacher, TEACHER! He’s EATING some! He’s EATING it!” At which point all the other children at the table freeze with their hands halfway to their mouths, and give me deer-in-the-headlights looks.
To my mind, the only appropriate answer to this announcement is, “Mmm. And what are you making with your dough?”
Anyway, some time after the cookie-cutting phase was done, but before we had really done much frosting, Becca (one of the teachers who works with our special needs child) wandered by and rescued me from my first major error. She did it with the typical good humor of a person used to dealing with children who have a hard time understanding simple concepts.
“Hey Rebecca,” she said, “heads up! Usually you bake the cookies first, and frost them after.”
This is what I thought: “Whoops! That seems like something I should have known. How does everybody else figure out this stuff? I guess if I had thought about it I would have known that. What does happen if you bake the cookies with frosting on them? I guess they’d burn. Yeah, logically, pure sugar would have to burn quicker than the stuff with flour and whatnot, I suppose. Thank god Becca isn’t looking at me like I’m a moron.”
This is what I said. “Oh! Thanks Becca. I guess that makes sense.”
And then into the oven the vaguely tree/star/snowman shaped cookies went. Then came the ritual that my boss, Cheryl, and I started last August with my first major cooking project.
The ritual goes like this: I stand in the kitchen staring at the oven door, occasionally open it up, squint inside as if I had some idea of what I’m looking for, and shut it again. Cheryl eventually comes down to the kitchen, entering at a pretty good clip.
“Hey Rebecca,” she says, “I smelled something burning and just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
At this point I understand the whatever-it-is is done and say, “No, I’m good. I was just taking the (insert name of baked goods here) out of the oven.” I take out the stuff, Cheryl goes upstairs again without having had to call the fire department and everybody’s happy.
The kids didn’t care that a few of the cookies were a little crisp. Priorities are different when you’re five. M. wanted to have four so that he could share with his whole family. O. and G. wanted all red frosting. E. wanted only the pieces she cut out herself. Everyone was accommodated, everyone was happy, and I was got through another baking session without starting a fire. It was a good day.