Listening To The Tide

Tomorrows ago the world spun
a different way, we are told. One pearl morning
arrived so still that the ocean stopped.
And then there followed a single smooth wave,

A single smooth wave evenly
spread in gray light horizonward. Thinking
of that, and of how nothing
can hold back for long a wave that comes,

And the wave that comes after that, beginning
tomorrows to here -- we're afraid. Listen --
one distant sound made all the rest,
they say -- one tremendous explosion,

One tremendous explosion that could come
again, and a wave, and a wave, and a wave.

~ William Stafford, "Holding Onto the Grass"

Objects of Common Ceremony

When I was at the library, I found a book that I wanted to check out, but it was too big and too heavy to carry. I knew I'd not be able to carry it to my car. So, I sat down and read it right there, mostly looking at all the gorgeous and intriging images. It was an afternoon well-spent!

William Morris has written a book called "Mazorrca: Objects of Common Ceremony", which show hauntingly evocative and beautiful glass sculptures. He has created objects that appear to be ancient stone or wood carvings, not the modern glass sculptures they actually are. They are hung on strands, like ornate necklaces, evoking images of tribal rituals, medicine vials, and magic potions. These are the type of dangling talismans one imagines in a ceremony, ancient, evoking human origins and secret ceremonies.

His inspiration comes from ancient cultures around the world - Egyptian, Asian, Native American - all peoples who respected and admired the land they inhabited. The juxtaposition of these elements are just beautiful and mesmerizing. You imagine fire, incense, and drums. I would enjoy spending an afternoon with such a book, with the sounds of the Pygmies of the Ituri Forest playing in the background.

The Amazing Staying Power of Religion

"To make myth is to be human, so it follows that any hunt for the roots of the religious urge should begin with an examination of this congenital genius for telling stories. We begin by asking a simple question: Why would the human mind compel us, in every culture and throughout time, to seek answers to our problems in myth? At first glance, the answer might seem obvious: we rely on myths to alleviate our existential fears, and comfort ourselves in a baffling and dangerous world. But if the threats that generate myth are serious enough for the mind to respond to at all, why would such a mind, which has presumably evolved to enhance the individual's chances for survival, rest its hopes on a creative fabrication of its own imagination? . . [The answer is that] evolutionary reasons prompted the emergence of the myth-making urge, but the true power of myth lies in its ability to set the stage for a chain of specific neurological events, which unlocks the deepest spiritual potentials of the human mind."

~ From "Why God Won't Go Away",Andrew Newberg, MD

I Understand Just How You Feel

Unazukin is the latest toy from Bandai -- a small "fairy" that is actually a good listener. The voice activated doll actually reacts to your voice, nodding and shaking her head whenever appropriate. The cute two inch high doll has four different movements, shaking head back and forth once or twice; and nodding once or twice. This doll is part of the Nature series -- named "Green"; she is battery-powered. Now, where have I seen that face before....

Sunday Evening Study Class

We had a weekend just packed with activity - a great hike in Point Defiance with Megan and Taraz; four friends over for a roast pork dinner Saturday evening; our Ayyam-i-Ha children's party Sunday morning, and our Ruhi Class here in the late afternoon.

This is the last of our classes on Book 4, the life of Baha'u'llah the founder of our Faith. Nine books are available. George's blog, Baha'i Views, discusses these in more detail.

We've hosted these gatherings every Sunday evening for a little over 2 years now, and expect to continue for several more. It is a pattern in our life. The class lasts 2 hours, and is hosted with refreshments, a light meal. Similar clustered classes occur simultaneously all over Tacoma and surrounding areas with the purpose of discussing social change, spiritual development and education.

A significant portion of the history of the life of Baha'u'llah occurs in Baghdad, Iraq. That is where he declared his mission. He was exiled to three other locations within the Ottoman Empire as a prisoner due to his religious beliefs, finally arriving in Israel, where he spent the rest of his life. Baha'i history is especially significant at this time, because of the current crisis in Iraq.

Children's Ayyam-i-Ha Party

We attended the children's Ayyam-i-Ha party on Sunday. It was very lively, with music, art projects, and a cake walk.

Ayyam-i-Ha is a period of festivity for Baha'is, our gift-giving time. It lasts four days, and it preceeds the 19 day fast. It is a time to extend hospitality and renew old acquaintences, to visit the sick, to extend assistance to others.

Over the years our family has celebrated with home visits, devotionals, study classes, and prayer breakfasts. Music and art have always been a strong freature of our family's Ayyam-i-Ha - the poster above was put together here in our home by Baha'i youth last year.

Celebrating With Old Friends

The photos here are of close friends of ours - the family in the top photo (at left) live just a couple of blocks away, and I've known them for 15 years. What is interesting about the young man, Dwight, is that he is 24 and his younger sister and brother are 4 and 6....yup, Nancy, Dwight's mom began a new family when her two oldest children graduated from high school! She will have raised two sets of children when she is finished.

It was delightful watching Dwight play with his younger brother - just some real guy stuff there, with tusseling and teasing. Dwight is a real big guy, about 6' 2", and about 240 lbs, a football player for Linfield College. He says he can hardly wait until his little sister gets older. He plans to greet her first boyfriend at the front door, and indicate a little protocol.

Tim is in the middle of the picture - he is the publisher of The Guild of American Luthiers Quarterly. He attends our Ruhi classes every week, and is our highly esteemed Baha'i historian. If I have a question, Tim can answer it. He was recently honored for 29 years of service on the Spiritual Assembly of Tacoma. His wife, Debbie, was 'master of ceremonies' of the Ayyam-i-Ha party.

And, the ladies below I've also known for quite awhile. Lori, on the left, works for Weyerhauser, and Tina, on the far right, runs a shelter for the homeless. If you want a good laugh, you talk to Tina. No matter how serious your life is, she'll find a way to see the humorous side. And, she is full of hugs for everyone. When I told her I'd taken care of children for 38 years, and was now AN EMPTY NESTER, she just shook her head in disbelief. We had a discussion about 'helping to raise the grandchildren' (four years worth for us), and the current phenomenon of 'delayed exodus', a term I coined after several of my kids left home for awhile then returned after flying the coop. Tina had hearty congratulations for my efforts this past month to help my sons and daughter to find new 'digs'....and of course I thought that should they return, I'll be sending them to her shelter. No more room is left at the Inn.

My Kind Of Houseboat

Park It Next To My Houseboat

English System Conversions

For those who thought the hardest part of Physics 101 was the constant conversion from MKS or CGS units to English units, here are some useful English system conversions:

Ratio of an igloo's circumference to its diameter: Eskimo Pi

2000 pounds of Chinese soup: Won ton

1 millionth of a mouthwash: 1 microscope

Time between slipping on a peel and smacking the pavement: 1 bananosecond

Weight an evangelist carries with God: 1 billigram

Time it takes to sail 220 yards at 1 nautical mile per hour: Knot-furlong

365.25 days of drinking low-calorie beer because it's less filling: 1 lite year

16.5 feet in the Twilight Zone: 1 Rod Serling

Half of a large intestine: 1 semicolon

1000 aches: 1 megahurtz

Basic unit of laryngitis: 1 hoarsepower

Shortest distance between two jokes: A straight line

453.6 graham crackers: 1 pound cake

1 million-million microphones: 1 megaphone

1 million bicycles: 2 megacycles

365.25 days: 1 unicycle

2000 mockingbirds: two kilomockingbirds

10 cards: 1 decacards

1 kilogram of falling figs: 1 Fig Newton

1000 grams of wet socks: 1 literhosen

Lets Check Under The LazyBoy

When I was shopping at Bartell Drugs, I came across something I haven't seen in a long time - Fels-Naptha Soap. I bought a bar for 99 cents, just to take it home and smell it.

This soap has been around for a long time - I remember my mother using it at the cabin. She would shred it with a cheese shredder, and use it in a washtub. I always thought the odor quite unpleasant; and if anyone left a washrag curled around this soap, it would turn an awlful yellow-orange, and be stiff as a board.

My mother relied on it for all her heavy duty cleaning - to get out grass stains in jeans, grease stains on an apron. She used it on the wooden floor at the cabin - anything that required heavy duty cleaning.

I remember seeing my grandmother on her knees, scrubbing with Fels-Naptha and an old rag. That soap bar was so hard-milled that it seemed to last forever, winding up in the shape of an hourglass as it was worn away.

According to the Soap and Detergent Association, there are five types of cleaning personalities, and I guess I'd say I'm a combination - part 'Mess-Buster' part 'Struggler'. No matter how fast-paced my life was, there was always that desire to have things clean and orderly. But with 5 kids, a garden, and a full time job, my house was often a disaster zone until bedtime - then, all of us would clean up and straighten. I always like to wake up to a nice looking house, but I'm comfortable looking at cobwebs, dust on the shelves, and dirt swept into a corner of the kitchen for a day or two. I'm curious to see if someone will finish the task.

I have had a house so dirty that I cleaned it in the dark - first round. Then, after that is done, I'll finish up on the details in full sunlight. I simply didn't want to acknowledge how bad it was - in the men's bathroom. Now, the men clean it, and I keep the door shut.

I have certainly changed my style after I had kids - I've lightened up. But, it wasn't always that way. When I sold one of my homes 40 years ago, it was listed with the comment, "Mrs Clean Lived Here"! That is not the case today. I make compromises and get help. So, I guess I'm a 'Mop Passer', too. Lets take a look at the categories:

"Clean Extremes" are the largest category (25 percent of women), and they agree with the statement that "it's important that my home be clean even where people don't see." According to the SDA, these women can't relax unless their home is spotless, and that a clean home provides an overall feeling of well being and personal satisfaction.

"Mess Busters" come in second at 24 percent, and like the Clean Extremes they want every area of their home clean, though according to the SDA "they don't fret about housecleaning; they just do it."

"Strugglers" (21 percent) do not consider housework to be an important part of their day-to-day lives, and typically say it simply builds up faster than they can keep up with. Ironically, this group actually spends the most amount of time on housework, but derives much less satisfaction from it. Strugglers, not surprisingly then, are more likely to be married, and have the largest families of the five personality types.

Dirt Dodgers" clean only when they absolutely have to, and represent 18 percent of women surveyed. Dirt Dodgers find it difficult to keep their home neat and organized, and have a much-lower level of satisfaction with the cleanliness of their homes.

"Mop Passers" are the smallest segment of women housekeepers (11 percent). Don't jump to the conclusion that these are the messy ones, though. This group still desires a clean house, but is more likely to get help -- keeping house is just not the personal priority for this group that it is for the others. These women, according to the SDA, spend a mere 6 hours a week on housecleaning.

According to the Soap and Detergent Association, the biggest bummer with cleaning is "that the house just gets dirty again." This, I think, is the key to why I don't do excessive housework. Why clean it today when it's just going to be dirty again tomorrow?

Some Thoughts On Aging

The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my reaction, she was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let him know.

Old Age, I decided, is a gift.

I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body ... the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don't agonize over those things for long.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to overeat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 a.m, and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will. I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set.

They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten ... and I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. I can say "no," and mean it. I can say "yes." and mean it.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day. ~ Author unknown

Words of Wisdom

The happiest of people don't necessarily have everything. They just make the most of what they have.

A Balanced Summary of the News?

"In some ways, in fact, technology is actually making understanding more difficult. In part this is because, thanks to the Internet and satellite TV stations, everyone now can watch the news that is perfectly tailored to their own views - and not be exposed to the other guy's point of view at all. As a result, all your own stereotypes get reconfirmed and reinforced....."

"What's even more dangerous is that the Internet, because it has the aura of technology around it, also has a totally undeserved aura of instant credibility. People now say, "It must be true - I read it on the Internet." The fact that it was conveyed in this high-tech manner somehow adds authority to what is conveyed, when in fact the Internet is a global conveyer of unfiltered, unedited, untreated information. It is not only the greatest tool we have for making people smarter quicker. It's also the greatest tool we have for making people dumber faster.
~ Thomas L. Friedman, "Longitudes and Attitudes: The World In The Age of Terrorism"

Heaven and Hell - Rising and Falling

Hell is described in the Bible as "the lake of burning sulfur, where the beast and the false prophet had been thrown. They will be tormented day and night for ever and ever" Re.20:10, 14:10-11)... and one of the worst torments of each one of the condemned will be to realize the fact that he had in his only life on earth a thousand and one opportunities not to go to Hell, and he rejected them all.

Heaven is described in the Bible as "the roar of a great multitude in heaven shouting: "Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God... "Hallelujah! The smoke from her goes up for ever and ever." (Rev.19:1-3, 7:9-12).

Theology aside, here's a place to play. How many people can you get out out of Hell and into Heaven...

Mom, I'll E-Mail You Every Day

My sister sent me this photo today, with the words, "You're Going To Miss Each Other!"

I got up at 5:45 a.m. to give her a hug goodbye, she called me from the plane, and then again at 1:30 p.m after she arrived in New York. I couldn't believe it! Why, many of our canoe trips take longer than that.

I will miss Ruhiyyih's loving ways, here giving me a massage. On one of the last days she was here, she took her hot iron, a huge smooth-surfaced tube, and straightened my hair. When she was finished, my hair was down to my waist, and I looked about 80 years old. I looked like the old farm wife in Grant Wood's "American Gothic" . I was telling my sister, thank goodness, that with features as awlful as ours, we have long kinky hair as a distraction.

Hey! It's Just The Two Of Us Now!

George and I have the house to ourselves now...... Taraz and Rahmat are in their own apartments, and our daughter, Ruhiyyih flew to Washington D.C. this morning, to live in Arlington, Virginia.

I have been so busy during the past few weeks - I really want to just kick back for awhile and really relax. I've got a good book, and several good magazines:

Cloth-Paper-Scissors : Collage and Mixed Media , which has really neat photography of funky collage images, lessons on nature printing on fine metal mesh, stamping with Angelino fibers to create three-dimensional flowers, and browsing flea markets for vintage textiles.

Cote Est - Dec.-Feb. 2006, # 30, which features European chalets in beautiful alpine countryside. Unfortunately, it's all written in French: "Sur les sentiers du Vorarlberg, entre le lac de Constance et les glaciers de la Silvretta, les chalets aux formes sobres contrastent a peine avec les maisons paysannes. Au premier coup d'ceil, ces constructions en bois ressemblent a s'y meprendre aux greniers a foin perches au milieu des herbages....."

Maison's Cote Est, Cote Sud, and Cote Quest are my favorite magazine collection - and I've never been able to read them. I've got about 30 of these publications. Another magazine that I've collected is "Nest", which featured interiors from all over the world. Many of the interiors are funky, with highly organic motiffs and unusual settings. The articles inside ranged from a story on a 'wall-less' house to the interiors of a nomadic Tiebetan yak-hair tent to a former palace in Cuba, now fairly run down.

Nest was probably the most artistic magazine I have ever read. Nothing was off limits. Religion was a big target and no religion was left untouched. In one issue, Nest explored various stereotypes of each religion. In another issue, the editors congratulated themselves for not having any woman contributors to that issue.

Nest has ceased publication, and its issues are now collector items:

"During its seven year run, Nest won two National Magazine awards and it had a cult-like readership. Architect Robert Venturi, novelist John Banville, photographer Nan Goldin and other prominent arts figures contributed to it. Nest distinguished itself by exploring interiors that were rarely visited by other design magazines; there were feature articles on topics ranging from a prominent Indian undertaker’s home to Inuit igloos. And aside from the high quality paper stock and high production values, the lavishly illustrated magazine had a highly unpredictable aesthetic. Text was encapsulated in circular graphics or surrounded by flowery wallpaper-like borders. Nest even eschewed a standard three-dimensional format: different issues came in different shapes, some had decorative holes or shapes punched through them." ~ Architectural Record News

One of my goals durning this 'empty nest' time is to go back through some of my old magazines, and really enjoy them at my leisure - that is something I rarely had before my retirement. When that is done, I want to go through all my family albums, which have been culled through by all our children for school projects over the years, and try to reassemble some order to them, possibly by pulling my favorites, and making one large photo album only....it is all about simplifying, and giving lots of the reprints to others who now want them for their own family albums.

This might be one of those days where I stay in my bathrobe all day and turn my phone off.

Kitty Robot To The Rescue

Do they do housecalls? Here's the story.

She's Got Everything Packed

And, she'll be paying a few extra charges. There was a lot she felt she couldn't live without.

Ruhiyyih is all packed, with her stuff lining an entire wall along my guest room. The airline says 2 suitcases and a carry-on. I've never seen suitcases like hers - they have expanding side seams that zipper open and closed. You don't dare open anything, it is so vaccum-packed.

We spent the day helping Taraz move into his new apartment, then went to Borders, to look at books by Thomas L. Friedman, who wrote "The World Is Flat: A Brief History of the 21st Century. I'm hoping to get this from our library when I finish my copy of "Longitudes and Attitudes: The World In The Age Of Terrorism" by Friedman, who is the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of "From Beirut to Jerusalem" and "The Lexus and the Olive Tree". I've appreciated the simple, uncluttered approach that Friedman uses; I'm not that well-read, and I've got a lot of catching up to do.

When I was reading blogs today, I came across this one, by Dr. Sanity, that was most thorough about the Port Controversy in todays news. She says, "

"I'm going to reserve judgment for a while and see what new information comes to light over the next couple of weeks. Like most people, I can imagine many scenarios which would prove this to be an incredibly bad decision, both in the political and business sense....OTOH, I can think of a few scenarios where it might very well be in our national interest to go through with this deal...."

Many Americans don't understand global markets and how they work, the millions of investors moving money around the world with the click of a mouse. We have to be part of that process to acquire collateral support, especially if we want to form strong collaboration with other countries. Bush needs allies to finish the work in Iraq. Problem is, too many Americans still remember the events of 9/11, and they still remember the hijackers, most of whom were from Saudi Arabia. That provokes the consternation. I'm curious to see how it all plays itself out. (Photo: Airport Sculpture)

Now For A Little Cup Of Tea

This is Denby's Marrakesh, an image Oldeupher sent me. He knows that I love the old Denby stoneware.

He probably doesn't know that I've been looking for a good teapot, as the ones I own have remarkably unpleasant lifespans - they lose their hats, they chip their noses, and they break their arms. They pale in the dishwasher and acquire new ownership at the Goodwill. They achieve status and lose status, depending on the space on my bookshelves, where the best of them sit on little woven rugs or fancy tablecloths. I've got a collection of them, always waiting for a new arrival.

My favorite teapot is a family heirloom, made at the Buffalo Pottery Works in 1909. It is from a Deldare Ware collection called, "Village Life In Ye Olden Days" and is hand-painted. You don't find hand painted teapots with rich colors and crackled glazes like this anymore. It is priceless, and has a rich history of its own. It was used in the old Gilman Hotel in Gilman, Montana. That old hotel now rests in Augusta, and Gilman is a ghost town out on the Montana prairie. I don't think anything remains there anymore. But, I've got one of their teapots.

I went shopping with Ruhiyyih and Taraz the other day at Macy's. While they tried on clothes, I went up to the housewares collections, and looked over all the Denby dishes. The dinnerware patterns today are not as fanciful as the ones made 30 years ago, when I had a collection called "Gypsy" . While raising my five children, I went through plastic Melmac dishes, cheap Goodwill rejects, stoneware cast off from my parents, and a number of limited sets from Target, all of which have been given away. Tea sets, dishes and glassware just haven't had a great lifespan here.

My current set is from China, probably made in an old pottery sweatshop. They are a heavy pottery with a raku glaze, those little crackle lines that develop during the firing. I bought them at Pier I Imports when I determined my household would treat them kindly - and I've only lost a couple of plates due to breakage. That is the main reason I'm on the lookout for another teapot - we've recently lost three.

The High Buzz Mode - Robert Glenn

Back in 1978 Colin Martindale of The University of Maine put some electrodes on some students' heads and made an art-shaking discovery. Subjects were asked to create stories while the electroencephalogram recorded their brain waves. Creativity, he found, had two main stages--with vastly different types of waves. He called the two stages "inspiration" and "elaboration." While stories were being dreamed up, brains were surprisingly quiet--mostly alpha waves indicating a low level of cortical arousal. It was the same sort of activity that's often found in sleep, dreaming or rest--which could explain why sleep and relaxation can help people to be creative.

However, when these quiet-minded people were asked to "work on their stories" their brains became suddenly busier--flashing messages back and forth between lobes. Vastly more connectivity, focus, corralling and organization appeared to be going on. Martindale found that the people who had the most creative storylines also showed the greatest contrast between the two types of brain activities. Many creative folks know about this. But it's been my observation that about 20% of artists never get into the second stage at all. Without this cortical shift they short-change themselves. The question becomes how to set yourself up to enter the high-buzz mode.

Here are a few parallel, creativity-rich modes that might surprise you:
Lackadaisical boredom mode
Sublimated anger mode
Dreamy love mode Deadline mode
Relaxed time-off mode
Automatic joy mode
Careless abandon mode

It's in this "abandon" mode that you can actually feel the brain change. Your tools quicken and they begin to run the show. The mind seems to think ahead, or giddily moves somewhere else. Some artists need a small change of location or posture to go into this elaboration stage. It may also take a trigger--music, memory, pressure, subconscious lapse. Or it may simply happen when the first mode has gone on long enough to play out and let the high-buzz mode begin. Ideally, as in a hybrid vehicle, the power is constantly shifting back and forth to whatever is appropriate and needed at the time.

Less-creative people can't shift gears. Very creative people move between these two states intuitively." (Guy Claxton, psychologist, University of Bristol, UK) Esoterica: Artists who try to monitor their high-buzz modes often report going into overdrive when the work itself really starts to engage and to win them over. Getting further interested and getting excited replaces the more calculated and cerebral preparatory period. Martindale was one of the first to locate high-buzz creative action on the right side of the brain. He was also one of the first to notice that the most inventive creativity happens when both sides interact freely.

A Little Evening Entertainment

Just browsing some of my favorite websites, I came across several that really deserve notice....they have something really unusual to offer:

Sarpy Sam over in Montana shows the sweetest newborn calf. Scroll down, and check out how the calving is going in below zero weather. He's got what he calls a "Do Over Day"....frankly, it is about succeeding over all the odds against you - and coming through O.K.

Gangadhar, over in India, has a picture of his son, using a special photoshop technique, java applet, that he offers to his viewers. Go into that photo workshop site and see the cabin and waterwheel image, which I have above. You'll see how it comes to life, with water flowing and snow falling. Just really a nice treat.

And, Jeff at Surfingisfun wants everyone to see this young man play a ukelele in a way thats never been done before - just outstanding, beautiful music. See it through to the end - I was so impressed, it is the best version of a Beatles song that I've ever heard. I'd love to hear him play a mandolin - there is nothing like home-made music. It's the best.

And, additional photos of Ruhiyyih's going away party are posted at Annie's blog...

Very Punny, If You Like Hollandaise

A guy goes into his dentist's office, because of pain in his mouth. After a brief examination, the dentist exclaims, "Holy Smoke! That plate I installed in yourmouth about six months ago has nearly completely corroded! What on earth have you been eating?"

"Well... the only thing I can think of is this... my wife made me some asparagus about four months ago with this stuff on it...Hollandaise sauce she called it... and doctor,I'm talking DELICIOUS! I've never tasted anything like it, and ever since then I've been putting it on everything... meat, fish, toast, vegetables... you name it!"

"That's probably it," replied the dentist. "Hollandaise sauce is made with lemon juice,which is acidic and highly corrosive. It seems as though I'll have to install a new plate,but made out of chrome this time."

"Why chrome?" the man asked.
"Well, everyone knows that there's no plate like chrome for the Hollandaise

Not A Happy Camper Here

We spent our weekend consumed in projects. I had to clean and cook for Ruhiyyih's party, and George had to tackle the insulation problem under our house. He was not a happy camper.

When I first checked out this crawlspace, it was to determine why the house was so cold. We've had some of the worst cold weather all winter the past week. And, our house just wasn't getting warmer than 65 degrees - that is uncomfortable. I'm not especially fond of wearing snowpants and a coat in the house just to keep warm.

I discovered that animals, probably opossums and raccoons, had been getting under the crawlspace and tearing the insulation, to use as bedding material. Perhaps the furnace vents were exposed, cooling down the air from the furnace. We checked it out, and figured making the repairs was necessary - but George was not at all happy about going into that dark, cramped place filled with spiders.

He went to Home Depot and got goggles, a face-mask, some plastic sheeting and a staple gun, and got busy pushing the insulation back into place, then packaging it with the plastic sheeting, so it won't fall down again. He also had to cover the area where animals had gotten under the house. He's got about 1/3 of it done, the worst part. And, it really hasn't made any noticable impact in the temperature of the house. None of the furncace tubing was exposed, which leads us to conclude that whats under the house is not the issue - the cold weather is.

At our party on the weekend, I talked about fireplace inserts with Tim, Annie's dad. He knows all about the regulations for these things, and said that a wood-burning fireplace insert is made according to codes and regulations now, and that it would not be an issue to burn wood in a new model type. The soot, smoke and emissions are minimal, if you are following instructions. So, I'm going to call around and see if I can get something on sale and get it installed. Tim said if I'm using wood on just those terribly cold days, one chord of wood may last me three or four years, and it would not be terribly expensive.

There is no doubt that for the money, wood-burning heat is cheaper than the electric I've been using - this furnace has been running constantly, with little improvement in the temperature.

Just Stylin' With The Girls

Ruhiyyih and Jackie are styling Daisy's hair, curling it into an upswing. Then, a little eyeshadow and the stylin' is done.

These are the activities of an auntie who knows that visiting Daisy will soon be over, so she is maximizing the playtime. I'm sitting on the sideline, videotaping. I know that these moments are precious, something George and I will look back upon when the house is quiet.

Taraz and Megan have packed up some of his stuff, and he will be sleeping in his own place tonight, his own apartment. I'm happy to see him so organized and his room upstairs should be cleaned out in a couple of days. Then, when the weekend comes, while George is working under the house, I'll be cleaning the study and putting my guest room in order.

Ruhiyyih will leave for Washington D.C. on Thursday - I think that will be my first real 'quiet day'....she is busy packing some of her stuff in boxes, to be shipped by mail, snail route. She plans to have just 2 big suitcases and a carry-on on the plane. And, that has to last her until the rest of her stuff arrives at her new address in Virginia.

Celebrating Family and Departure

We got the family together on Sunday for a celebration - a farewell party for Ruhiyyih.

She is moving to Washington D.C. to continue her job search, and has already secured an apartment with a group of girls in a house in Arlington, Virginia. She has friends in the area that she saw at Christmas, so I know she won't be jumping down into the unknown. She feels quite at home there, and I'm happy for her. She is going to have a good time. And, the jobs there are abundant in the non-profit sector especially in international services - her passion.

Ruhiyyih spent a year teaching in China, has done grant writing, volunteer management, social services, and now desires to upgrade her language skills in Arabic, French, and Chinese. Classes in these languages are offered free at the Department of Agriculture. She has a friend who is studying languages there.

These photos show my son Ruh, his wife Annie and their daughter Daisy; Taraz and Rahmat, our sons; Laurel and Ruhiyyih, our daughters; Mehran, our son in law; Annie's parents Tim and Kathy, their son Ben; Megan, a close Baha'i friend of Taraz's; and Renee and Bryn, two of Ruhiyyihs friends. Dottie, Veronica and her baby Justin joined us a little later, after these shots were taken.

Ruhiyyih, Baby Justin, and Veronica

Veronica (Vern) is one of Ruhiyyih's closest friends. They became friends in junior high school. Vern spent many nights at sleep-overs at our house, and Ruhiyyih rented a room in her house a few years ago when Vern's husband was in military duty in Korea for months at a time. Vern is a dental assistant, but is a full-time mom right now. Justin is a sweet little guy, just so squeezable and full of giggles and smiles. He was the hit of the party - sorry, Ruhiyyih.

They're All Outta The Nest - Today!

Today our son Taraz will be moving to his new apartment, which is about a mile away, down 6th Avenue.

Taraz is the golden-haired youth pictured above with Rahmat, Ruhiyyih, Ruhullah and Laurel. All our kids are finally out of the nest.

I checked out his new apartment, and when I met the landlady, I was shocked to see that she is the same landlady that Rahmat has. She manages several apartment buildings for one owner. I was so happy, because I know her, and I'm impressed with her management style.

She is very 'hands-on', and skilled in so many ways. When Rahmat needed a good bike, she found one for him, left by an old tenant, and he paid only $80.00 for it. Rahmat would have taken a corner apartment overlooking a construction site, with all the power drilling and jack-hammers. I told the landlady to show us something else, because Rahmat works at night and sleeps in late. I knew the sounds would bother him. She had just the perfect studio apartment for him, overlooking a nice view of the city and Mt. Rainier.

Taraz's new apartment is a studio also in the old historic part of Tacoma. He will be moving in today, and I'm so happy to see him 'fly the coop' - for his sake and mine. I am so 'ready' to tackle those upstairs bedrooms, clean them out, restore them to what they had been - my guest room-studio and George's study. When Rahmat and Taraz came home from their Year of Services in Maine, Michigan and South Carolina they took over these rooms and George and I lost our creative spaces, where we did all our projects.

I really enjoyed having them home last June, and we've sure had some wonderful family moments. But, every little chick must fly the coop, and this hen is ready.

Ferrofluid Images - Magnetic Art

Magnetic Fluid or ferrofluid is amazing stuff. It's just runny black oil-like liquid until you put a magnet close to it. With a magnet nearby it forms itself into a solid-like substance. When the magnet is removed it collapses back into liquid form. A Japaneese artists,Sachiko Kodama and Minako Takeno created "Protrude Flows" that illustrate the process. Scroll down the images, and watch the movie. It shows the process - just amazing.

When you put a drop of this ferrofluid between two glass plates and subject it to powerful rotating magnetic fields, really bizzare patterns appear. National Geographic has screensavers developed from this process. Take a look at the patterns.

Confounded and Irritated

Everything we tried yesterday to figure out why I couldn't post or comment didn't work. My computer still wasn't working this morning. So, I took out the chords, pulled them out of the modem and blew on them and rammed them back into place....and that worked. I couldn't believe it! Everything was up and running as good as new.

Is It The Weather? I Haven't A Clue

I've got a problem with accessing Blogger - its been down since yesterday afternoon. Blogger sites come up, my own also, but I can't access 'Create A Post' or access my drafts from my computer. Yet, if I go upstairs and access my son's computer, everything comes up OK! We have fiber-optic cable through our TV that gives us our cable access to the TV and computers. Yesterday, everything I did on my computer ran very slow. I don't know what to do. My son says to wait out the cold spell, that sometimes that is a factor, and it's been quite cold. Everything else, like websites, come up OK. Yet, when I attempt to leave a 'Blogger Comment' on someone's blog, it will not go through. Does anyone have any suggestions?

How To Maintain a Healthy Level of Insanity

1. At Lunch Time, Sit In Your Parked Car With Sunglasses On And Point a Hair Dryer At Passing Cars. See If They Slow Down.

2. Page Yourself Over The Intercom. Don't Disguise Your Voice.

3. Every Time Someone Asks You To Do Something, Ask "Do You Want Fries With That?"

4. Put Your Garbage Can On Your Desk And Label It "In."

5. Put Decaf In The Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks ! Once Everyone has Gotten Over Their Caffeine Addictions, Switch to Espresso.

6. In The Memo Field Of All Your Checks, Write "For Smuggling Diamonds".

7. Finish All Your Sentences With "In Accordance With The Prophecy."

8. dont use any punctuation

9. As Often As Possible, Skip Rather Than Walk.

10. Order a 'Diet water' Whenever You Go Out To Eat.

11. Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is "To Go."

12. Sing Along At The Opera.

13. Go To A Poetry Recital And Ask, "Why Don't The Poems Rhyme?"

14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area And Play Tropical Sounds All Day.

15. Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can't Attend Their Party Because You're Not In The Mood.

16. Have Your Co-workers Address You By Your Wrestling Name, "Rock Bottom".

17. When The Money Comes Out The ATM, Scream "I Won!, I Won!"

18. When Leaving The Zoo, Start Running Towards The Parking lot,Yelling "Run For Your Lives, They're Loose!!"

19. Tell Your Children Over Dinner: "Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go."

The Geography of Heaven - A Pilgrims Path

" Kawakarpo Diaries" features Bill McQuay's notes from his long trek that circles the mountain in China that is sacred to Tibetians. There are 12 installments reflecting his journey - ultimately, for him, an undescribable journey. As he walks along the mountain and meets with a monk, he asks about the benefits of a pilgrimage. The monk tells him that if he is concerned about the benefits that he will receive from the pilgrimage, he can expect little. The monk suggests that a better attitude would be to perform the pilgrimage in the hope that it would benefit all beings.


McQuay writes, "We climbed more than 1,000 meters in the first hours of our trek. There were hundreds of pilgrims along the path. They seemed to cover all age groups, and come in all shapes, sizes and gender. We saw a grandmother who had to be well past her 60th birthday, walking with her 9-year-old granddaughter. We saw a young couple carrying a tiny infant son. There were young boys no more than 12 or 14 years old, carrying sacks as large as the boys were tall."

"Many of the pilgrims are dressed in traditional clothing, colorful layers of thick wool and cotton. It’s hot and I’m perspiring in my short-sleeve shirt and lightweight pants. How do Tibetans stand it?"

"Seven-and-a-half hours later, as dusk approaches, we settle into our campsite, an evergreen grove with a roaring glacial stream nearby. Our seven pack animals are quickly unloaded and fed. Norbu, our cook, unpacks his supplies and using a portable butane stove sets a pot of water to boil. We will soon we be treated to a cup of butter tea."

"Our horse wrangler quickly set up the tents -- one small green pup tent for me, and one large blue tent for the rest of our party. This large tent will also double as a storage hut for our food, utensils, fuel canisters and a folding table and chair. These last two items are an unexpected accommodation. It was not requested, but proved to be comfortable nonetheless."

"That evening, inside the large blue tent, we have a candlelit dinner. The table is not large enough for all of us to sit around, a privilege reserved for me and my guide Kayson. I thank everyone for their hard work and consideration, and tell them what a delightful surprise the table is, but ask that we dispense with it for future meals -- I tell them I would prefer all of us to sit together."
A short distance from our campsite stretches an ample green meadow where hundreds of Tibetan pilgrims are settling in for the night. Smoke from their wood fires, hemmed in by the encircling mountains, forms a light blue haze that shrouds everyone and everything."

"Our campsite and those of the other pilgrims could not be more dissimilar. While we have tents, a fuel-burning stove, canisters of fuel and seven horses, our neighbors have the clothes on their back, a large bag of barley flower (called tsampa) and utensils to prepare butter tea and possibly barley bread. Only a few have pack animals, usually a lone yak or mule -- this is rare."

"They have no tents or sleeping bags. Some of the Tibetans have brought large plastic sheets that they unfold and use to cover the ground. These can be quickly converted to a roof should rain or snow begin to fall. But for most of the Tibetan pilgrims, their only shelter is the clothes on their backs and possibly a tree or a cave."

The Pilgrimage in Tibet - Dokarla Pass

When they approach Dhanang, Bill McQuay writes:

Evidence of the Cultural Revolution is here. In the center of town are the ruins of a temple and monastery, and only a few sun-baked mud and straw walls remain standing. The ground around it is covered with the chunks and shards of mani prayer stones. Hundreds of pieces of the stones, with beautiful Tibetan script carved into the surface, are scattered everywhere. Occasionally we see an elderly Tibetan picking up a few pieces of stone and setting them into small piles. How long has this been going on?"

The Pilgrimage in Tibet is an interesting journal - I'll be spending my morning reading the remainder of it. Its a nice way to start the weekend, when it is too cold to venture outside. My coffee is ready, and the house is quiet....

A Woodstove Is Not An Option

I've always told my kids that "if you are cold, get up and move", that was the solution to feeling cold in the wintertime. Now I realize that I've got to reconsider that option. It's downright cold in my house today!

The wind has been blowing an Arctic chill right down our chimney, the furnace has been chugging away all day, the sunshine is streaming into my den, kitchen and laundryroom, and it's still only 67 degrees in the house. It is 33 degrees outside - and it's getting down to 18 degrees tonight.

Its never been a problem before, because I was always gone during the day when I was working. Now that I'm retired, I'm home, and I'll be darned if I can't seem to get warm. I've also been down with a cold for a few days, and when I'm sick I don't hold my heat. I've had more cups of tea and hot soup than I care to count.

Tomorrow we'll have to look at the furnace in the crawlspace under the house. Rig up a lantern under there, and re-wrap the furnace vents. A critter has torn all the old insulation off. It takes this kind of discomfort to get motivated to wrap the vents. I'm hoping that will solve the problem - and of course we only have this kind of extreme cold for a few days in the wintertime. Usually our wintertime temperatures are mild.

But, I will also check out the possibility of a gas stove insert for the front of the fireplace. I have seen these, and they really put out the heat. I'd prefer a woodburning type, but the Puget Sound area has strict prohibitions against wood burning stoves. Some of the older wood stoves put a lot of pollution in the air. And, they are prohibitive for people with asthma. George and a couple of our kids have that:

"Air regulators would prefer that people use stoves that burn natural gas, which emit no soot. Failing that, they advocate stoves that burn wood "pellets," which are made of compressed sawdust. The pellets burn hotter and longer and produce less than 3 percent of the pollution that old wood burners do. "

Frankly, I've been around pellet stoves, and the burst of heat is not much better than our furnace. It would not be an upgrade for us. A gas insert is something I'm going to research, even if our vents are re-wrapped. I'm determined not to get this cold next winter.

Tidbits Too Boring To Share

I suppose if I was riding in a bus, on a very long journey through Arizona, and it was just one cactus after another, one canyon devolving upon another, one nervous fly buzzing each passenger in a lazy pestering confrontation, I might admit that there are times for mundane discourse bordering on the absurd. Sometimes, environments like this would warrant it.

Now, this is in stark contrast to the serious conversations between George and I on our canoeing trips, where we attempt to understand all the forces impacting on us and on our world. Of course, he will give a concise, carefully considered rendition on anything, and lace it with Baha'i quotations. Whereas I will play the devil's advocate, and ask lots of questions. My mind is not made up on anything - the world is a very unsafe, ever changing place. His world has profound explanations for everything.

Our conversations can last for miles, interrupted occasionally by Garrison Keillor on Lake Wobegan, who has a better grasp of significant subjects - and the music to enhance them. Keillor says, in "If It's OK By Them It's Fine By Me":

If the National Security Administration is monitoring my phone calls for quality assurance (and why shouldn't they be?) they're no doubt puzzled over conversations that go like this:
ME: Hi. Just me.
HER: Where are you?
ME: On my way home.
HER: You're calling from the car?
ME: Right.
HER: You coming straight home?
ME: Be there in five minutes.
HER: Okay. Bye now.
ME: Bye now.

And, the advice gurus of Car Talk , Click and Clack, will walk us through any number of significant problems while we are driving along, someone just needs to present the symptoms. Click and Clack will explain maintenance and repair - air filters, brakes, coolant, timing belts, transmission fluid, rotating tires, bluebook value, and even provide a guide to a good junk yard.

Click and Clack say:
"Ever wonder just exactly what kind of nature, nurture and arrested socialization led to the development of two demented troglodytes like us? Sociologists at major universities have been asking the same question for years! ... I must admit, I'm a little reluctant to divulge all the following details about my life (especially considering all the fine work by the G-men who arranged to get me into the Federal Witness Protection Program). "

Only so much time goes by, listening to the radio when my imagination takes over - an inner dialogue, on a solitary journey. As we drive along, I'll consider these tidbits, too boring to share with George, but they are there, mulling around:

I really ought to get a colonoscopy, even though I can't imagine what kind of conversation I would hold with the attendant nurse. "No, I do not want to look at the screen".

If they want to have kids, stop imagining 'babies'. Real kids grow up and use up all your resources when you are already 'running on empty'. I used to work in the garden for hours every day just to have some peace and quiet. These kids will not understand 'peace and quiet' for the next 60 years, and by then, you'll know it for sure.

How can I feel in my prime when I wear support hose so I can stand, an underwire bra to shape what is there, and I have to be in the house by nightfall because I can't see where I'm driving. The only thing in my prime is my enthusiasm, and everything is sabotaging it.

How can I get the silverware to match. I've started with one set, now half of it is gone, and other pieces are showing up that I've never purchased. This relates to other things that don't match, because they wear out at different intervals. Even parts of me are wearing out, so I don't match what I used to be anymore.

How do I dust the surface of my keyboard, without typing "pekmfjrurt2nvl@%euenfkdjhenfdckdh7mn4933"? I see someone's orangejuice stain, a cat hair, and crumbs from my pineapple upside down cake in between the keys. And I'll never understand computers; why are all those letters highlighted in blue, with a line under them.

That man outside with the jack hammer was not wearing earplugs. No protective eyewear, also. His boss ought to insist on these. And, the hole he is digging isn't working out - he's tried 5 times to dig it. The fact that he's working out in the rain also doesn't help matters much. I don't care what any of them thought when they saw me videotaping them from my livingroom window.

Someone is eager to pull a nuclear trigger. It's the 'what would happen if' syndrome. Its about redefining western civilization, rewriting human history, reframing everything we have ever known or imagined. When we are done with this one, crop circles will feel like child's play.

The best politician is the one who doesn't want to be one. Imagine a senator saying, "I'm tired of sitting here all day, turning issues inside out, just to proceede with a vote which may or may not carry. I have better things to do with my time. I'm getting old. I want to read to my grandson, throw a frisbee to my dog for an hour.

Then I look over at George, "Say, just out of curiosity, did you remember to bring the canoe?" He looks at me and says, "Babe, I thought you said you just wanted to hike!"

Next Time I'll Follow The Recipe

Dinner's Ready, Dad - Put The Paper Down

The temperatures are dropping pretty fast over in Montana, and they were pretty cold here today, too. Ruhiyyih and I ran errands all day, getting ready for her trip. We did some walking, and when we came upon an icy puddle, we both stomped on it. It is so unusual to have ice on the road at 4:00 p.m.

I'm fixin' to make some lentil soup for dinner. Say, Ruhiyyih, would you call your dad in for dinner?

More Excitement In The Neighborhood

Well, if a triple murder wasn't enough excitement for the neighborhood (check this post), we've got more excitement - and even closer to home.

My next door neighbor is putting in new sewer pipes, about 80 feet worth. The street is being torn up, her yard too, and jack-hammers are burrowing into the foundation of her house.

This neighbor has waited over four years to tackle the problem of her sewage. It's been oozing out onto her yard, it's been backing up in her basement. It's been running within inches of my bedroom window.

She hasn't been able to shower or use her washing machine in over three months. Although she says she hasn't had a plumbing problem in almost 60 years, she does indeed have one.

My neighbor is 90 years old, and the thought of paying for a new sewage line will cost her about as much as she paid for her house when she bought it 60 years ago. So, she just stopped using the shower, stopped using the washing machine, stopped running much water. (And, I should say that this neighbor is financially secure, able to cover the costs of mandatory repairs, even this type.)

It's taken four years for her to address the problem. She just figured she'd not get her money's worth out of the deal - she'd die first. And, I saw her point. But, a week ago, when I could smell the raw sewage out in her yard, I knew she needed to address it, now, or the Health Department would. I mentioned this to my neighbor's caregiver when she came over to visit..... three days later, a contract was signed with a plumbing company.

She must be resigned to the upgrade, as I can see that she's installed a new water heater, too. I can't help but wonder if she was heating water on her stove rather than replace the old one. Her caregiver said the house needs a new coat of paint, and a roof-beam needs to be shored-up in order to prevent the roof from sagging.

For my neighbor, one little repair seems to be sparking other little improvements, like - the possibility of a hot shower, a toilet that flushes easier, access to the washer and dryer again. I noticed a bouquet of flowers in her livingroom window. Could it be, that once she proceeded to make the necessary repairs, everything else started to look like it could also fall into place?

I just bet, that now that she's finally done it, she's saying, "I should have done that four years ago!" Inertia can be a tough nut to crack.

Putting Things in Historical Context

The imam who preached a sermon in Gaza's Omari Mosque told 9,000 worshippers that the cartoonists who executed the cartoons should be beheaded. In Nablus, the imam Hassan Sharaf told his congregation that, "If they want a war of religions, we are ready." Whatever the religious sensitivities involved, reactions such as these are irrational. There is a reason. The Los Angeles Times puts it into context:

"Back in the High Middle Ages, the three great monotheistic religions — Judaism, Christianity and Islam — reached one of those fundamental forks in the historical road. For centuries, a series of Islamic scholars had preserved the works of Aristotle that one day would lay the foundations for the secular logic and science that have made the modern world possible. Their "rediscovery" by medieval scholars provoked a crisis. They recognized that reason was a powerful tool, but were fearful that using it would undermine faith, which was the basis for authority in all three communities.

What to do — or, more precisely, how to think?

Three intellectual giants rose to the challenge. Two of them — the philosopher and jurist Abu al-Walid Ibn Rushd, known to the West as Averroes, and the great rabbi and physician Moses Maimonides — actually were contemporaries, both born in the Spanish city of Cordova. Tradition has it they even met and befriended each other while on the run from the Almohads, Islamic fundamentalists from the Maghreb, who had captured Andalusia and destroyed its storied culture of tolerance. The third was Thomas Aquinas — of whom his admiring coreligionists one day would say, "He led reason captive into the house of faith." Recall that this was an age in which the literate West, not unlike today's Islamists, still regarded theology as "the queen of the sciences.

Averroes' exposition of Aristotle was so widely admired and influential that when Aquinas took it up a century or so later at the University of Paris he referred to Aristotle simply as "the philosopher" and to Averroes as "the commentator." But while Maimonides and, later, Aquinas — who also read and admired the philosopher rabbi — held that there exists a single truth and that faith, properly understood, never can conflict with reason, Averroes took the other fork. He held that there were two truths — that of revelation and that of the natural world. There was no need to reconcile them because they were separate and distinct. It was a form of intellectual suicide and cut off much of the Islamic world from the centuries of scientific and political progress that followed."

I appreciate historical context, the understanding of the forces that provoke reaction. When I read about this 'media controversy', the image that has me wondering is the image of so many young men, obviously unemployed, with time on their hands. The rate of unemployment is over 50% in many Islamic countries. If these men, and women, were working, would things be different?

Moroccan Pottery Tour in Safi and Fez

When I think of Morocco, I think of beautiful multi-patterned blue tiles, ornate architecture, and pottery.

Morocco's varied geology and rich mineral deposits make it one of the world's largest exporters of phosphates. They have also inspired the production of traditional ceramic tiles and pottery -- a craft industry which is still thriving today.

The potters' quarter is just outside of the city walls of Safi, Morocco. As strange as it might seem, life here goes on as always, even with several tour groups stopping by every day. All around this area, chimneys form large beehive-kilns.

"Fez is famous for the production of its typical blue pottery, known as Fakhari by the locals and Bleu de Fez by the French. Today, Fez is one of the most intriguing cities of the Islamic world, celebrated for its prolific output of hand-crafted items -- leather goods, woolen carpets, carved wood, and gold, brass and silver objects as well as pottery."

"The predominance of blue in the ceramics and pottery of the Fez region is originally due to the presence of cobalt in the rocks and stones swept down by rivers into the narrow gorge of Wadi Mellih. When ground, certain of these rocks produced beautiful coloured glazes, which were once much prized by the pottery industry. In recent years, however, the traditional and highly-skilled craft of selecting the cobalt-rich rocks has completely died out, and glazes are now imported from overseas, particularly from Germany."

Jim Miller's Images of Daily Life in Morocco is one of the first websites I found when I first started learning how to use a computer. More images of Moroccan markets are here, as well as images of the Berbers, Marrakech, and farming in the Atlas Mountains.

On Aging

Know how to prevent sagging?
Just eat till the wrinkles fill out.

My memory's not as sharp as it used to be.
Also, my memory's not as sharp as it used to be.

I feel like my body has gotten totally out of shape, so I got my doctor's permission to join a fitness club and start exercising. I decided to take an aerobics class for seniors. I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down, and perspired for an hour. But, by the time I got my leotards on, the class was over.

Reporters interviewing a 104-year-old woman: "And what do you think is the best thing about being 104?" the reporter asked. She simply replied, "No peer pressure."

The nice thing about being senile is you can hide your own Easter eggs.

I've sure gotten old! I've had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, new knees. Fought prostate cancer and diabetes. I'm half blind, can't hear anything quieter than a jet engine, take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts. Have bouts with dementia. Have poor circulation; hardly feel my hands and feet anymore. Can't remember if I'm 85 or 92. Have lost all my friends. But, thank God, I still have my driver's license .

It's scary when you start making the same noises as your coffeemaker.

These days about half the stuff in my shopping cart says, "For fast relief."

THE SENILITY PRAYER : Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, the good fortune to run into the ones I do, and the eyesight to tell the difference.

We're Just Chillin' Here Mom

I've been helping my son Taraz look for an apartment. He would prefer to live in a house with room-mates, and share a kitchen, livingroom and bath. He's done that before, with several different living arrangements, always enjoying the group experience.

We've looked at one place already, a basement apartment in a good location about four blocks away. It was an apartment that had a kitchen, bathroom, and two separate bedrooms - no livingroom. So the small bedroom would be Taraz's living space.

It had no screen on the bedroom window,and that poses a safety hazard - anyone could crawl through there in the summertime, at night, and take his stuff. I mentioned to the landlord that it needed a screen - and he said, "yeah, you could get one."

The landlord had not repaired a hot water faucet in the bathroom sink, so everytime the sink was used it had to be turned on, under the sink. I felt that a landlord getting a place ready for occupancy would have something like that taken care of before renting to someone. It would be a nuisance to operate it like that.

The landlord had also left the front door and a window wide open, to air the place out. That seemed unusual, as if he was attempting to get rid of a bad odor. No heat was available in the bedrooms, and when I pointed this out to my son, the landlord said, "you could get a space heater".

I asked how long the apartment had been 'for rent', and the landlord said, "for three months". So, I asked how long the other tennant had lived there, and the landlord said, "for three months." So, what was it about this apartment that had delayed renting the other room? I inquired again about the other tennant, and the landlord said "he is about 50, retired, and is gone ALL DAY. He is rarely home."

I felt reservations about this apartment. Naturally, I worried about it as I was trying to sleep. When Taraz came downstairs to have breakfast the next morning, I told him I didn't think the place was a good choice. We need to keep looking. I thought the 50 year old tennant was probably the deciding factor as to why the other room can't get rented.

I could be totally wrong here, but I kept imagining someone getting SSI, a mental disability check. I see a number of mentally ill men walking up and down 6th Avenue, talking to themselves, unkempt, wearing a winter coat in August. They spend the entire day walking. It doesn't occur to them to bathe, shave or put on clean clothes. A broken faucet in a sink would not be a problem... The lack of heat in a bedroom wouldn't be noticed....

I didn't feel comfortable about that basement apartment. We will continue looking. Taraz has some more addresses lined up. I'm imagining something on a second floor level, a place of his own. Maybe something near his brother Rahmat, downtown. I want him to have a nice little place of his own - something that won't keep me awake at night, worrying over him. A safe, warm, friendly place that feels like home. We'll be apartment hunting again today, with the hope we find something.

Insurance Coverage or Medical Care - U Pick

"America's health system is in crisis, leaving out too many and costing too much. Today, 45 million Americans lack health insurance. Millions more are struggling to pay premiums that are growing five times faster than wages, but still seeing their benefits shrink. While some Americans have access to the most sophisticated medical care in the world, others are left to overcrowded emergency rooms, under-funded clinics, or no health care at all - all because they lack the insurance it takes to provide for the care they need. This is wrong. It violates America's deep, long-standing commitment to fairness for all of our citizens - old and young, weak and strong. Unlocking our health care system's potential for everyone in America is the great moral challenge of our time." ~ The Center for American Progress

A Teardrop On The Cheek of Time

Tourists from all over the world visit Agra to see the Taj Mahal, India’s most famous architectural wonder. It was built by the fifth Mughal emperor, Shah Jahan in 1631 in memory of his second wife, Mumtaz Mahal, a Muslim Persian princess. She died while giving birth to their 14th child.

Before she died, she voiced four wishes: first, that the emperor build the Taj; second, that he should marry again; third, that he be kind to their children; and fourth, that he visit the tomb on her death anniversary.

Construction began in 1631 and was completed in 22 years. Twenty thousand people were deployed to work on it. The material was brought in from all over India and central Asia and it took a fleet of 1000 elephants to transport it to the site. It was designed by the Iranian architect Ustad Isa.

Celebrating the passion of love, a picture of the Taj Mahal does not adequately convey the legend, the poetry and the romance that shroud what Rabindranath Tagore calls "a teardrop on the cheek of time".

On the Nature of Love

The night is black and the forest has no end;
a million people thread it in a million ways.
We have trysts to keep in the darkness,
but whereor with whom - of that we are unaware.
But we have this faith - that a lifetime's bliss
will appear any minute, with a smile upon its lips.
Scents, touches, sounds, snatches of songsbrush us,
pass us, give us delightful shocks.
Then peradventure there's a flash of lightning:
whomever I see that instant I fall in love with.
I call that person and cry:
`This life is blest!
for your sake such miles have I traversed!'
All those others who came close and moved off
in the darkness - I don't know if they exist or not.

~Rabindranath Tagore

Best Wishes For Valentine's Day

There are varying opinions as to the origin of Valentine's Day. Some experts state that it originated from St. Valentine, a Roman who was martyred for refusing to give up Christianity. He died on February 14, 269 A.D., the same day that had been devoted to love lotteries. Legend also says that St. Valentine left a farewell note for the jailer's daughter, who had become his friend, and signed it "From Your Valentine".

Other aspects of the story say that Saint Valentine served as a priest at the temple during the reign of Emperor Claudius. Claudius then had Valentine jailed for defying him. In 496 A.D. Pope Gelasius set aside February 14 to honour St. Valentine.Gradually February 14th became the date for exchanging love messages and St. Valentine became the patron saint of lovers. The date was marked by sending poems and simple gifts such as flowers. Commercial valentines were sent out in the early 1800's. Things are sure different today - Valentines by e-mail!

The Lore and Love of Strawberries

The strawberry, a member of the rose family, is unique in that it is the only fruit with seeds on the outside rather than the inside. Many medicinal uses were claimed for the wild strawberry, its leaves and root.

The ancient Romans believed that the berries alleviated symptoms of melancholy, fainting, all inflammations, fevers, throat infections, kidney stones, halitosis, attacks of gout, and diseases of the blood, liver and spleen.

The strawberry was a symbol for Venus, the Goddess of Love, because of its heart shapes and red color.

To symbolize perfection and righteousness, medieval stone masons carved strawberry designs on altars and around the tops of pillars in churches and cathedrals.

And, Garrison Keillor, in Prairie Home Companion had significant observations:

"These summer days when strawberries are in their prime seem to bring out the kindness in people. You bring home a little carton of hand-selected berries and wash the best one and pop it in your wife's mouth and this is a statement of tenderness. Tenderness and stubbornness make for a good marriage and marriage is the true test of character—to make a good life with your best critic. You have many critics but your spouse is by far the best-informed of all of them."

"I favor marriage between people whose body parts are not similar. I'm sorry, but same-sex marriage seems timid, an attempt to save on wardrobe and accessories. Marrying somebody from your team. Still, it's probably good for them to have to fight for the right to marry. My parents eloped against strong opposition from both families and they were in love for the rest of their lives and held hands and were tender on into their eighties. Of course they always had fresh strawberries."

Plop, Plop, Fizz, Fizz

Well, what can I say, I'll just ask, "Has anyone seen that cute little green Geiko lizard talking in the forest?" Those Geiko commercials are my favorite. Have you watched how sweetly he folds his hands and talks so gently, so endearingly? I worry over him - the real world is going to gobble him up or squash him. I just wish he'd climb up to a safe place, away from the dog-eat-dog world. He's only got one important thing to say - "Just switch to Geiko".

Then there are these terrible Capital One commercials with kids watching Mom and Dad plummet over the mountainside by a chairlift. After the parents hit a few bolders, the kids look at one another and ask, "What's in Your wallet?" When the Capitol One commercials come on I zap 'mute' and turn my head. Someone thinks these commercials are funny. They are the worst of the worst.

And if we go down memory lane, there are all kinds of commercials - remember the two elderly ladies speaking of a skinny hamburger in a bun; as they stood there one tapped her cane saying "WHERE'S THE BEEF?" My beef is that most commercials don't belong in the home. They are too loud, too dumb, and they are annoying.

Do you know that someone keeps a talley of our culture's commercials?

Anyone remember the commercials for "Captain Crunch", the Stride Rite zipz sneakers, 9-Lives Cat Food, California Raisens, Pilsbury Crescent Rolls, Wrigley's Juicy Fruit gum? Do you know there is a website where, if you haven't heard these oldies from the 80's, you can tune in again...just prepare for a barrage of popups to advertize the commercial - now, that is redundant.

Paddling the Bone River on Willapa Bay

After grabbing a quick Egg-Bacon-Cheese on a Biscuit at McDonalds, we headed over to South Bend, a quaint community famous for its oyster-processing. Our canoeing destination was due west, the Bone River. It is a beautiful, pristine, gentle body of freshwater that flows into Willapa Bay.

The incoming tide of Willapa Bay combines with the nutrient-laden fresh water of the Bone river to create an extremely productive estuary. Diverse salt marshes, muddy tideflats, rain-drenched old growth forests, and coastal dunes preserves a number of unique ecosystems.

We've seen Roosevelt elk here, camped overnight with our family on Long Island, and done some exquisite filming on Leadbetter Point, where the most memorable filmed images of water are in our collection. So, I guess you could say this area is one of our favorites. Although it is only 2 hours away, we've spent weekend 'getaways' here, staying in a little motel in South Bend. The ambience of the fishing ships, the many great restaurants, and the great canoeing opportunities always draw us back, every year.

An average of 110 inches of rain falls each year here, carrying nutrients into Wallapa Bay. Chum, chinook, and coho salmon spawn in the streams. Eelgrass is the staple food of brant, a sea goose that migrates along the Pacific Coast. We saw flocks of Canadian Geese, ducks and shorebirds. Along the Bone River there were river otter and muskrat slides down into the water.

Sitka Spruce line the water's edge, and the eelgrass has sprouted about 4 inches, looking like a groomed golf-course in some places. The terrain got more and more remote and varied as we paddled up the river. There was brilliant sunshine, and no wind, so we had excellent canoeing conditions and it was a great, peaceful glide.

I was concerned about our put-in point, as the tide was going out when we started - this can pose a problem when returning, as the mudflats drain and become 'mucky'. It is a challenge to find a solid place to step out. We've had many disasters doing this, mainly getting stuck and muddy in the process of getting out. But, that is all part of the process, and a risk that is taken.

I felt the concern, so I disembarked on a little stony beach; George wanted to go further down about 30 feet, and by the time I'd climbed up the cliff onto a hill, I could see that he was in trouble. I told him to go back, to get out where I did, as it was dry....but, he went his own way, and promptly got bogged down in a foot of sucking mud.

Now there is the problem of 'men'. You don't want to be telling them how to do things when they realize they didn't take their wife's suggestion, especially if they are mired up to the top of their boots. And, their feet are so twisted they can't move. And, they've had to sit down in the bottom of the canoe, cold water soaking into their britches. And they are trying to catch their breath from twisting, turning, pulling and cussing.

I had to climb back down from my safe place and use my paddle to dig him out. Then I demanded that he give me the rope I keep handy for such occasions, which enables me to save my canoe, if not my husband. I pulled the canoe up the bank while George flipped it over, and together we got 'er done. But, we both smelled like sewage when we were finished, with mud all over our pants and jackets.

When George had recovered from his anger and embarrasment, I told him that a person on a cliff has a better vantage point to see the full scope of a predicament. A person who is angry and in a dire situation needs to listen to the person who is calm, reasoned, and safe. He wouldn't admit this, right away, but after he'd recovered, he saw the sense of what I was talking about. (And you can bet I did some talking!)

After this 'rescue attempt' of mine, I'm determined to carry a long 2" by 12" board in the canoe - so that if George doesn't follow my suggestion, he can just slide up the darn thing on his belly. I've learned something from watching those belly-sliding river otters.

Well, How About The One About.....

Once there was a boy who went to work for a captain. The Captain had a wooden leg, a hook on his hand, and a patch on his eye. Just like any old pirate.

So the kid asks, "How did you get your wooden leg"?
The Captain replied, "I GOT THROWN OVERBOARD AND A SHARK ATE IT!"
Then he asks, "How did you get your hook?"
The Captain replied, "A HUNGRY PARROT ATE IT!"
Then he asks, "How did you get your patch?"
The Captain replied,"A BIRD POOPED ON MY EYE".
Then he asks, " How would that take your eye out?"
The Captain replied, "IT WAS THE FIRST DAY WITH ME NEW HOOK!"

Getting Ready For Valentine's Day

My 9 year old grand-daughter, Daisy, came over Friday night for a few hours. After we had some grilled cheese sandwiches and pineapple upside down cake, I helped her with her homework. (Yes, grandma gets the homework done first, then Daisy doesn't have to think about it until she turns it in on Monday.)

After that we worked on her valentine box for school. We wanted a shoe box, but had to settle for a Puff Plus tissue box. I found some old wallpaper and we fitted that around the box. We painted the paper hearts red, cut them out, and decorated them with glitter glue. She glued these on the box, and although it was not your traditional lace and hearts, it didn't matter to Daisy. We had fun, and she made those typical 4th grader remarks, "Oh, your hearts are so much better than mine!"

When we finished, Daisy wanted to play with my hair, which is something she has done for years. My old salt-and-pepper hair is so thick that she can pull and tangle it. She got out clips, scarves, and bobby pins, and experimented with styles. I layed on the sofa, and she had the best time. Just as I'd fall asleep, she'd want me to sit up, so she could see the style. The worse I looked, the more fun she had.

This reminds me of a time she put braids all over in my hair. I fell asleep, and when I woke up I drove over to the library. I got my books, nothing unusual. But when I got home, I looked in the mirror, and all those braids were hanging all over my head. I'd entirely forgotten about them.

What Makes Us Tick - Robert Glenn

Yesterday, Rita Roberts of Monte Vista, Colorado, wrote: "It seems that I have a much greater need for things to make sense than that of the general population. Is this a common trait among artists? Might this be the source of that dutiful angst we seem to take on? I understand the idea that art is making order out of chaos. Perhaps I could be grateful to others for accepting endless contradictions as one harmonious truth so that I can spend endless days in the studio on a search for meaningful order. Any thoughts?"

Thanks Rita. These are questions that bother watchmakers when they take watches apart. Artists also ask these questions all the time, so they're legit. Trying to make sense of things may not be common to all artists, but it certainly is for many. Psychologists tell us that's why we have the need to remake our world in the form of pictorial landscapes, etc. Really, when you think about it, a lot of this stuff doesn't need to be made again.

On the other hand there are those who would make nonsense out of things. Humour, metaphor and fun also have their place. Every time I've tried to nail down a single item that makes artists tick, or a single way to make them tick better, I begin to feel dyspeptic. There are just too many answers. There are as many answers as there are artists. That's what's wonderful about us. But it's my opinion that no matter where you're coming from, there's guilt.

Guilt is hard-wired into the human psyche. Attempts at eradication have been disappointing. Guilt continues to influence and manipulate us. Get an artist down on a couch and you'll often find out that angst is guilt. As a driver, guilt may be just as powerful as love.

There's a bit of a solution for this one. It's called "I'm okay; you're okay." Let others find their joy in accepting those "endless contradictions as one harmonious truth." That's what accountants and lawyers and doctors and economists and politicians are for. They're all okay. What's not to love about them? Also, they collect our stuff. After my last letter about the ignominy of being rejected, there were nearly a hundred artists who wrote to say that the only thing an artist can do is to keep the brush moving. That's purification. Analysis is nice, but if you play around with it long enough--"boinggg," the mainspring pops out.

You've Got That Right, Maxine

Never read the fine print. There ain't no way you're going to like it.

The only two things we do with greater frequency in middle age are urinate and attend funerals.

The trouble with bucket seats is that not everybody has the same size bucket.

Things To Learn At The Movies

All grocery shopping bags contain at least one stick of French bread.

Once applied, lipstick will never rub off - even while scuba diving.

The ventilation system of any building is a perfect hiding place. No one will ever think of looking for you in there and you can travel to any other part of the building without difficulty.

Should you wish to pass yourself off as a German officer, it will not be necessary to speak the language. A German accent will do.

A man will show no pain while taking the most ferocious beating but will wince when a woman tries to clean his wounds.

When paying for a taxi, never look at your wallet as you take out a note - just grab one at random and hand it over. It will always be the exact fare.

A single match will be sufficient to light up a room the size of a football stadium.

Medieval peasants had perfect teeth.

Any person waking from a nightmare will sit bolt upright and pant.

Most people keep a scrapbook of newspaper cuttings - especially if any of their family or friends has died in a strange boating accident.

During a very emotional confrontation, instead of facing the person you are speaking to, it is customary to stand behind them and talk to their back.

When they are alone, all foreigners prefer to speak English to each other.

Rather than wasting bullets, megalomaniacs prefer to kill their arch-enemies using complicated machinery involving fuses, pulley systems, deadly gases, lasers and man eating sharks that will allow their captives at least 20 minutes to escape.

It is always possible to park directly outside the building you are visiting.

A detective can only solve a case once he has been suspended from duty.

Beating the Odds - You Go Girl!

Eloysa Vasquez may weigh only 37 pounds, but she's scored BIG - only one in 25,000 to 50,000 births are to a mother with osteogenesis imperfecta, and even fewer involve moms with the severe form with which Vasquez was born. Baby Timothy's birth was a one-in-a-million event.

I hear a resounding applause all over the world, for Timothy, Eloysa, and her husband Roy.

The World's Most Popular Hobby

These stamps from Israel are not just for domestic mail. People from all over the world collect them, register them, and trade them.

Hallvard Slettebø, a stamp collector and former director of the 'Federation of Norwegian Philatelists', says, "Welcome to my Personal Page" and he tells you what he wants to buy. He also serves as juror at stamp exhibitions at local, national and Nordic (Scandinavian) level. The Stavanger area has several stamp collectors clubs. He writes:

Egersund fikk offentlig poståpneri i 1831, og fikk det første poststempelet i 1848. Fram til innføringen av postnummer i 1968 har Egersund brukt 20 forskjellige poststempler. Her er gitt en foreløpig registrering av brukstider for de ulike stemplene. Brukstidene som er gitt nedenfor er basert på egne registreringer som garantert er mangelfulle. Opplysninger om tidligere eller senere datoer enn de som er angitt bes sendt i original eller tydelig fotokopi til Hallvard Slettebø, Bjørnøygt. 33a, 4009 Stavanger. Registrering av brukstid for disse Egersundsstemplene ble første gang offentliggjort i en artikkel i katalogen for frimerkeutstillingen Egersund 98. Den samme artikkelen er senere gjengitt i Filatelistisk Årbok 1998. Etter dette er den kjente brukstiden noe utvidet for enkelte av stemplene. Dette er markert med symbolet.

And, if you are looking for the esoteric in stamp collecting, check out the Plebiscite issues... I never knew one could study history and geography just by studing these collections, which relate to countries that no longer exist. For example, 'Allenstein' was a plebiscite issue, a stamp promoting a popular vote.

"Allenstein (called Olsztyn in Polish). A 5-pfennig green German stamp overprinted by the Inter-Allied Control Commission for Allenstein, Scott 15, is shown in Figure 1.
Allenstein was a district in East Prussia with a mixed German and Slavic population of more than 500,000.The French and the British were looking for ways to strengthen the new Polish republic as a bulwark against the Soviet threat. The British and French tried to attach Allenstein to Poland, but the Germans objected strongly, so a plebiscite was called.Although Allenstein had a sizable Slavic minority, these people were not Poles. They were Masurians who shared the Lutheran faith with the German-speaking Prussians. In the plebiscite, the Masurians voted with the Germans for a lopsided return of 97.9 percent in favor of union with Germany.Allenstein was returned to Germany on Aug. 20, 1920. After World War II, its German population was expelled and replaced with Poles taken from lands in eastern Poland annexed by the Soviet Union. Today, Allenstein is the Polish city of Olsztyn."

Just goes to show you, collecting stamps will teach you a thing or two. My father-in-law had an impressive collection of stamps. Dad had a pen-pal,Jenji Kasakawa from Japan, who corresponded on little postcards. These were then saved by Dad, with valuable recent issues, stamped and canceled on the back. When we would visit, he would show us his impressive albums, with stamps in glassene envelopes. He eventually did travel to China and met his friend on the trip. Dad had an entire room filled with books on China, and displayed his precious stamp collection along one wall.

Bahá'í Philately - Global Images

Through this web site, Toorai Enavati has tried to bring all the information he has gathered on postal stamps and material related to the Baha'i Faith. I really like the stationary and postal cancelation images. Check out this....beautiful. Thanks, Wes, for the links!

Ride On The Wild Slide

Mavericks Surfing Contest - Half Moon Bay, CA. Now, that's what you think of when you think of surfing - not this:

"I made them promise me they would never, ever do something like that and if they saw someone else do it, they would tell them to stop," Williamson said. "It's one moment of excitement compared to a whole life."

Riding on the hoods of moving cars is a stunt played out by professional daredevils on TV and everyday thrill seekers on countless youth humor Web sites. It's landing a lot of kids in the hospital with head injuries.

The Eyes Have It

I just wanted to let you know that a new Homeland Security Bill has passed. Things will be different now and Internet surfing will be tracked by what the FBI calls a "non-intrusive method." The FBI says you will not notice anything different. For a demonstration, click on this link:

Homeland Security. . .

Will this be happening to all our e-mails, document files, favorites bar, and blog buddies? Would TXT messages be exempt? I'm up in arms over this! I could not shake those critters, no matter how much I shook my cursor! Bam! Squash! Go Away!

The Center for American Progress has articles related to homeland security - Plugging the Gaps in Bio-Defense; A Better Communication System for Communication Workers; New Strategies to Protect America: Safer Ports for a More Secure Economy; Protecting and Preserving An Open Society; Reforming the Patriot Act ....and more. I'm gettin' my nite-lite, for some secret reading - that article entitled, "NO PLACE TO HIDE" is a 'must-read':

"Americans surrender vast amounts of personal information through everyday commercial interactions – from filling a prescription to buying groceries to signing up for a credit card. Private companies that started as direct marketers or credit verifiers are now also homeland security contractors trying to help the government connect dots in the war against terror. Information held in the private sector, merged with government data, may enable law enforcement to stop a future terrorist attack, but it also gives government an unprecedented ability to monitor the lives of American citizens, immigrants and visitors. In his new book, No Place to Hide, Robert O’Harrow Jr. describes the information society we now live in and how it challenges traditional notions of civil liberties, autonomy, and privacy, even as we gain a powerful new security capability."

Understanding The Power of Dialogue

Cognitive science is a branch of science which studies the nature of mental processes and the operation of the mind, particularly functions such as perception, attention, consciousness, and memory.

"Linguists find that people - even the young and the uneducated - form sentences in ways seemingly governed by very complicated rule systems. On the other hand, the same people are remarkably inept at identifying the rules that lie behind their own speech, and linguists must resort to very indirect methods to determine what those rules might be. Thus, if speech is indeed governed by rules, those rules seem to lie below conscious consideration."

"Probably most cognitive scientists believe the Mind/Brain Identity Theory, the idea that, whatever "mind" and "intelligence" are, they are rooted strictly in the brain, and do not make use of, depend on, or interact with anything non-physical. Nonetheless, there is reasonable consensus that there is sense in talking about the organization of the mind without talking about the organization of the brain."

George Lakoff is a professor of Cognitive Linguistics at the University of California, Berkeley. Although some of his research involves conditions under which certain linguistic constructions are grammatically viable, he is most famous for his ideas on the 'embodied mind'. "Learning to Speak Science", by Chris Mooney, addresses these complexities. Mooney writes that if we want to combat political attacks effectively, we have much to learn about political communication and strategizing.

With that in mind, I think about the enormous skill it will take to learn how to communicate effectively with our adversaries - whoever they may be in global politics. It is not enough to just strongly state an opinion; context, nuance and mindfulness are necessary ingredients for a successful exchange.

There are goals for every type of communication. Those must be considered first. And, if we want progress, we've got to understand the impact of language on others. That can foremostly be done by getting to know their culture, or why they speak as they do. It requires an extension of our informational gathering capabilities, and constructing them in such a way that our linguistic presence enhances dialogue, rather than sabatogizes it. I see enormous responsibility here. We've got to understand the impact of our words on others.

Rural Studio - The Architecture of Decency

Creating living spaces out of salvaged materials is the theme of "Rural Studio: Samuel Mockbee and the Architecture of Decency", by Andrea Oppenheimer Dean and Timothy Hursley. It recounts the story of Mockbee's social-activist work creating cutting-edge shelters for and with the rural poor of Hale County, Alabama.

Using salvaged lumber and bricks, discarded tires, hay and waste cardboard bales, concrete rubble, colored bottles, and old license plates, Mockbee's students created inexpensive buildings that reflect "contemporary modernism grounded in Southern culture." Rural Studio is a remarkable architectural monograph that conveys a social history of the life of the rural poor and their shelters.

I bought the book because I loved the pictures - not something you'd see in 'Architectural Digest', with glitz and pretense. The photos showed very endearing people, sitting in living rooms they had helped inspire and build. There's no styling, no carefully placed throw pillows and leafy potted plants—just the actual detritus of everyday living and the people who live there. Mockbee intended to improve but not change these people's lives. Inside the homes, it is their choice of furniture, and their choice of lifestyle.

The Bryant House, pictured above, was the first completed building - called 'the hay bale house'. The Bryants spend much of their time on the front porch. Alberta is there in her armchair surrounded by buckets of plants and fish, her husband's catch of the day from the nearby Black Warrior River. When showing visitors the Bryant's home, Mockbee was likely catnapping on the living room sofa while Alberta gave the tour: "I was glad to get my house," she says. "The children was glad; even the chickens and the dogs was glad. I'm proud of my house." The cost, virtually all of it for materials, was $15,000, a sum covered by grants and donations.

When you are finished reading the book, you just want to sit down on that front porch, and listen to Alberta talk about her life, her three grandchildren. You want to go fishing with Shepard Brant, and watch him use his smoke-house. Mockbee says, "These are nice, normal people. They don't have a clue how to get out of poverty. I hope that in working with them (my) students learn not to be so harsh on people."

A Triple Murder Down The Street

I was out for my afternoon walk, heading north on Union Avenue, when a police baricade prevented all traffic from entering the street in every direction. Just one block away, lights were flashing on police cars, flares were on the street, and officers were stationed at all the crosswalks. Public Transportation busses and through traffic were heading down my street, being re-routed from all intersections. People were walking down the street, just like me, but they were not out for an afternoon stroll. KOMO 4 News reports that a triple murder occured. Three bodies were carried out of the house. When I got home, two helicopters were hovering overhead, right over my house. I ran up into the upstairs bedroom, watched them, and figured they were filming something very important. I'll be watching the evening news tonite, and hope more details will be in the morning paper.

The Market in Kabul - Afghanistan

I'm always looking for unusual marketplaces around the world - I enjoy looking at the pictures: Provence, France; Fez, Morocco; Kabul, Afghanistan. Here is a website with unusual photos of the markeplace, and also the city in winter.

Just what would you find in the marketplace in Kabul? I've noticed cabbage, pumpkins, leeks, coats, firewood, almonds, raisens, tangerines, potatoes, red and yellow onions, tires, plumbing fixtures, hanging legs of lamb, sheepheads and saussages, fried pastries, stacks of flatbread, lemons, scarves, pink toilet paper from China, cartons of juice, radios and cassettes, soap, tin drum heaters, kites and munitions, dead chickens, Russian Army boots, satelite dishes, mufflers, tool sets, wiper blades, t-shirts, and candlesticks.....

Reminds me of the Flea Markets that we have here in Tacoma. So many things can be found for a song and a dance. It is frequently a hobby for the older crowd, both buying and selling. Farmers' Markets also offer similar oddities - arts and crafts, and fresh produce.

What Brand Works For You?

I buy whatever is on sale - mostly Yuban, Hills Brothers, or the store brand. But, I'm fussy about the Half 'n' Half and the sugar. Without those, there's no cuppa coffee....for me.

TXT Abbreviations For Valentines Day

Here are some handy txt abbreviations to help you say "I love you!"

WUBMV? ....Will you be my Valentine?
ILUVU ....I love you
ImRdy4Luv ....I'm ready for love
:'-) ....I'm so happy, I'm crying
Xoxoxoxoxo ....Hugs and kisses
KOTL... Kiss on the lips
:-X.... My lips are sealed, or a kiss

Use It or Lose It - Dementia Style

As we grow older, it's important that we keep mentally alert. The saying; "If you don't use it, you will lose it" also applies to the brain. So, take the following test and determine if you are losing it or are still "with it."

1. What do you put in a toaster?

2. Say "silk" five times. Now spell "silk." What do cows drink?

3. If a red house is made from red bricks and a blue house is made from blue bricks and a pink house is made from pink bricks and a black house is made from black bricks, what is a green house made from?

4. It's twenty years ago, and a plane is flying at 20,000 feet over Germany (If you will recall, Germany at the time was politically divided into West Germany and East Germany.) Anyway, during the flight, TWO of the engines fail. The pilot, realizing that the last remaining engine is also failing, decides on a crash landing procedure.Unfortunately the engine fails before he has time and the plane fatally crashes smack in the middle of "no man's land" between East Germany and West Germany. Wherewould you bury the survivors? East Germany or West Germany or in "no man'sland"?

5. Without using a calculator - You are driving a bus from London to Milford Haven in Wales. In London, 17 people get on the bus. In Reading, six people get off the bus and nine people get on. In Swindon, two people get off and four get on. In Cardiff, 11 people get off and 16 people get on. In Swansea, three people get off and five people get on. In Carmathen, six peopleget off and three get on. You then arrive at Milford Haven. What was the name of the busdriver?

Now, for the answers:
1. "Bread."
2. Cows drink water.
3. Greenhouses are made from glass.
4. You don't, of course, bury survivors.
5. Don't you remember your own name? It was YOU!!

Just This Once, Pleeeease!

He's not supposed to be sleeping on our bed. But, I haven't the heart to scold him.... night-night, Mordrid.

Bedtime Stories For Children

The other day my 9 year old grand-daughter, Daisy, stayed part of the night while her parents were at a concert. I asked her what kind of bedtime story she likes, and she said "Goosebumps", by R.L. Stine. I'd never heard of them, but the kids today love them. Because R.L. Stine needs at least twenty-four book ideas a year, he had to indulge his 'fear factor'. He writes:

"I find myself thinking about scary stuff all the time. Luckily, I love doing just that. I've spent most of my life dreaming up ideas for stories and books. A lot of my ideas for Goosebumps books started a long time ago. When I was a kid, I could never get enough stories. I devoured entire library shelves of fairy tales, Greek myths, Norse legends, and folktales. I loved stories on the radio and TV, too."

"One of my earliest memories has to do with the story Pinocchio. My mother read me the original version of the tale--which is a lot scarier than the Disney version. In one scene, Pinocchio gets tired of the cricket's constant lectures. So he takes a big wooden mallet and smashes the cricket against the wall. Later, Pinocchio falls asleep with his feet on the wood-burning stove and burns both his feet off! Thanks to Pinocchio, I always liked the idea of a wooden puppet coming to life. And so I eventually invented Slappy and wrote three Night of the Living Dummy books for the Goosebumps series."

After Daisy told me all about "Bad Hare Day", "Revenge of the Body Squeezers", "Go Eat Worms", and "Be Afraid, Very Afraid", I suggested something a little more sedate - something that would not cause me to have nightmares. She went over to a little cabinet that holds my collection of children's books, and pulled out a favorite: A Journey Through Time - Excavating Life on Earth, written by Selina Wood, and illustrated by Richard Bonson. She started reading the introduction:

"The ground beneath us holds the key to the history of our planet. From bronze weapons found in ancient tombs, to fossilized animals and plants discovered in sea cliffs, the Earth's numerous treasures can tell us much about life millions of years before we were born. As layer upon layer of ground is formed from years of fallen vegetation, debris from volcanic eruptions, discarded litter, and demolished buildings, the secrets of the past become set in stone under our feet."

As we turned the pages, richly illustrated, we began an excavation, beginning with the history of the 21st century, then traveling back into time at an excavation site in Italy. There, it was AD 79, Pompeii in southern Italy, with Mount Vesuvius erupting, burying the city in volcanic ash.

We never finished the book, but got through Mesopotamia, the Greeks on the Acropolis in Athens, Shih Huang-di in China in 221 BC. He became the first emperor, made his capital at Xianyang, and set about building an organized society. Then we traveled over to the last Ice Age, 10,000 - 32,000 years ago, and studied the mammoth hunters making shelters out of bone and skin to protect themselves from the bitter wind. Just the snow and cold of the pictures made us want a cup of hot chocolate. That done, we figured enough of reading. We needed a warm climate, and wouldn't you know, we found an old "Survivor" rerun filmed in the Amazon. You just never know how things turn out, when you want to explore together!

Pooles Corner - Firehouse Coffee Co.

Poole's Corner is no longer an old plant nursery serving the north end of Tacoma. It was torn down, and a new building has taken its place that has an espresso bar, the Firehouse Coffee Co. So, Ruh and Ruhiyyih and I walked over - it is just two blocks away. The interior of the shop is cozy, with a fireplace, soft brown carpets and a comfy sofa. University students sat at coffee stools along the windows, doing homework. My son and daughter chatted while I looked around, then we sat with our coffee.

It has been awhile since the three of us have gotten out together, and we got caught up on all the latest news - Ruhiyyih's car died right after she gave it an oil change; Ruh is working on setting up a business of his own in his spare time; Daisy, my grand-daughter is growing up too fast; and, lastly, Ruhiyyih saved over $200.00 shopping for clothing on sale at Macy's.

When Ruhiyyih got home, she put all her new outfits on, and gave me a style show.... oh, to be young again, and starting out in a new career. She is so eager for her trip, so excited to be living in the nation's capital. I have very mixed feelings - I can't think of a more dangerous place to live, and my maternal instincts are kicking in. She reassures me, and tells me how I will love visiting all the museums, seeing the historical monuments. I see a role reversal here.....

Workspace - The Kitchen Table

When my son Taraz moved back home in June, he got my studio - the guestroom. There is a futon up there, and a desk and chair, in a room with a big window overlooking the garden.

It was the prettiest room in the house, with sheer white curtains... a French cottage look. The white chair had a soft white shawl draped over it, and it was to this hideaway that I enjoyed my morning coffee.

In the summertime, I enjoyed looking at summer stormclouds from that room. When we bought this house, it was that room that got the house sold. When Taraz moved back home, I told him to make himself comfortable - he was free to rearrange anything in the room. Now, it looks like a guy lives there, but it looks nice. He's got soft east-Indian motiffs, neutral colors, and minimalism. I guess you could say that my guest room has been permanently occupied.

This guest room is also my studio, where I stored all my drawings in a long drawer under the futon, and in cabinets. Since my son returned home, all my art materials are stuck in filing cabinets, out of reach. The only thing available is my sketch pad and my coloring pencils, which I keep in a big box.

So, when I do manage to draw, it is at this kitchen table, with just this one box of materials - pencils, pens, a little acrylic paint, and my sketchbook. I have only puttered with this hobby since I took up blogging, and I'm eager to resume some of my experiments - thats all art is: experiments on paper. I take my time, and put in one of my videos for companionship - this one is of my grand-daughter, Daisy, on an outing to Eastern Washington a few months ago.

Experiments in Texture, Line and Light

These illustrations were done with colored pencil, gel markers, permanent ink pens, and dots of paint to create texture. The gel pens provide light refraction and a thick, transparent decopage covered windows. Subject matter - France and Italy.

A Bloom of Moon Jellyfish

When we were canoeing at Oyster Bay on Sunday, we glided past a bloom of Moon Jellyfish - there were many, all sizes, floating out with the tide. At one point, we hovered over them, and I videotaped their pulsing movements.

A tiny Jellyfish, about 4 inches across, bobbed near the top of the water. I put my camera down, and gently tapped him, feeling the slimy tough outer surface. The little guy scooted down into the water, scrunching up, causing the most perfect scalloped edges. Naturally, for me, it was a serendipidous delight, totally unexpected.

A Sunny Afternoon At Watson's Nursery

My daughter, Ruhiyyih, and I spent an hour at Watson's, a local nursery. While she sat at the espresso bar with a chocolate chip cookie, I browsed all the perennials, the hanging baskets, the new annuals, and the houseplants. This is the best nursery in our valley. If you have a sick plant, they will take it, put it in one of their greenhouses, and try to restore it for you. They have excellent customer service, and abundant varieties of outdoor shrubs and trees.

Just walking through all the primroses and daffodils was such a joy, after all the dismal grey days that we've had. The fragrance and color was refreshing, and I really enjoyed being with my daughter. She is home for a few weeks, then she moves to Washington DC. We are packing in some good times. This was such a delightful excursion...I'm eager to go back.

Monday Morning Clean-Up Blues

We sure pay a price for a little fun on the weekend. And, it's there to greet me on Monday morning. If you think this is bad, check the dishwasher, check the laundry baskets, check the canoeing equipment boxes waiting to be stored away.

So, I'm doing the Monday morning thing - getting laundry done, putting away life-jackets and canoeing gear, cleaning up after our Ruhi class. I forgot to put all the garbage cans out for pick-up, so they will be spilling out by Friday. Well, at least we've got some more sunshine today - I'll be done with all this work by noon, and I plan to head out to Watson's Nursery...I've got spring fever.

Oasis Designs For Better Living

Oasis Designs is a website devoted to ecologically sustainable systems for living in harmony with nature and each other. I happened upon it when I was looking for doorways, a favorite subject of mine. They have a beautiful doorway here, natural, inviting, and welcoming. As I browsed their website, I was impressed with their services - including a newsletter that keeps you up to date on trends and materials. They develop systems for managing water, wastewater, energy, money and other resources.:

"Our goal is to live really well, on a small amount of well-managed resources, and help others do the same. We don't need resource wars...we just need to make the most of our fair share."

The doorway here is on a 1920 summer cabin on 1/4 acre with water, wastewater, energy systems and extensive edible landscaping. The Oasis home/office has good bottom-line performance:

"We live healthy, comfortably and inexpensively on a fraction of average American resource use; $15 a month for electricity, about 20 gallons a year of propane, and 3/4 cord of wood, much of it from on-site. At the peak of the irrigation season our water use approaches the American average (100 gallons a day per person) but we have 50 fruit trees and a vegetable garden."

Check out the family photos, the 'sense of place' that this family has created. I was really impressed - what a wholesome lifestyle. I enjoyed their article, "Healthy is Sexy: Ride a Bike!"

Two Eggs Are Better Than One

A couple went to breakfast at a restaurant where the "Seniors' Special" was two eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast for $1.99. "Sounds good," the wife said. "But I don't want the eggs."
"Then I'll have to charge you two dollars and forty-nine cents because you're ordering a la carte," the waitress warned her.
"You mean I'd have to pay for not taking the eggs?" the wife asked incredulously.
"YES!!" replied the waitress.
"I'll take the special."
"How do you want your eggs?"
"Raw and in the shell," the wife replied. She took the two eggs home.

Oyster Bay On Puget Sound

We got out early Sunday morning for a canoe paddle at Oyster Bay. It was a gorgeous sunny day - sweater weather, no wind. Perfect canoeing weather! I took my video camera and filmed bobbing jellyfish. I caught a few snapshots, too.

We had a perfect paddle over to a little island. While George sunned himself, I walked around the island and got a few photos of Madronna trees and beach shells.

The birdlife was rich - a few pheasants, an eagle soaring overhead, Barrows Golden Eyes bobbing on the water, and a diving Kingfisher. The water was alive with the sound of gulls, crows, and Killdeer. This is my favorite time of the year to explore water - before all the powerboats are out. In fact, because it was Super Bowl Sunday, it was very quiet. Just a perfect glide.

Madronna Trees - Shedding Bark

Lentils and Rice With Stir-Fry Veggies

We had some friends over for dinner last night, and George did the cooking. Or I'll say he made the main dish - a simple stir-fry with rice and lentils. For dessert, I made zuchinni-applesauce cake with creamy orange frosting.

We had a very stormy day yesterday, with tremendous wind and some rain. Not a day for hiking or canoeing. Blogger was down most of the day, and only a few sites were available - I've never seen Blogger act up so bad. Does anyone know why this is happening?

Our daughter, Ruhiyyih, is getting ready to move to Washington D.C., so she has moved back home for a couple of weeks until she boards her flight. I'm going to miss her something fierce. She has been living up in Seattle.

She has always been very good about calling every day, frequently twice a day, and she does visit "Flitzy", so I shouldn't complain. But, I'm going to have a tougher time with this move of hers - before, like when she lived in China, I knew she'd be home in a year. This time, she's going somewhere to get 'settled' with a better job. It feels different, and a little frightening. Washington DC is far away.

My older daughter, Laurel, lives up in Renton, near Seattle. She is very tightly scheduled, and I'm not able to reach her very often. She is faithful about returning calls, though. I'll see her later in the month, when we give a going-away party for Ruhiyyih.

Super Bowl Sunday - Go Seahawks!

Blogging is going to be pretty dead today - I figure everyone will be watching the game. We're hoping to get out for a hike, so I hope someone will fill me in on some details - like, who won.

When Blogger Is Down - I Read Books

What do you do when "Blogger Is Down", and you can't access any of your favorite blogs, including your own? I tried over and over to access, yesterday, and all I got was, "You are not authorized to view this page". Blogger is having some major issues!

Well, I found a few pages from H. D. Lawrence, in "Sea and Sardinia", a book I picked up at the library, and started reading.

In 1921, D.H. Lawrence joined the British literary tradition of writing a travelogue. He and wife Frieda, "the Queen Bee," selected Sardinia for its promise of unspoiled primitiveness and lack of tourists. Though "Sea and Sardinia" follows many of the conventions of the travelogue genre of the time, playing to the market for a foreign experience, moments of wonder mixed with irony and nationalistic-centric sentiments, it is also a self-revealing journal in which Lawrence's passions, rages and perspectives get a frequent work-out. I especially enjoyed his exuberant relationship with the rain and elements, the walking and touring, and the beautiful landscapes. He writes:

"To tell the truth there is something in the long, slow lift of the ship, and her long, slow slide forwards which makes my heart beat with joy. It is the motion of freedom. To feel her come up -- then slide slowly forward, with a sound of the smashing of waters, is like the magic gallop of the sky, the magic gallop of elemental space. That long, slow, waveringly rhythmic rise and fall of the ship, with waters snorting as it were from her nostrils, oh God what a joy it is to the wild innermost soul. One is free at last -- and lilting in a slow flight of the elements, winging outwards. Oh God, to be free of all the hemmed-in life -- the horror of human tension, the absolute insanity of machine persistence. The agony which a train is to me, really. And the long-drawn-out agony of a life among tense, resistant people on land. And then to feel the long, slow lift and drop of this almost empty ship, as she took the waters. Ah God, liberty, liberty, elemental liberty. I wished in my soul the voyage might last for ever, that the sea had no end, that one might float in this wavering, tremulous, yet long and surging pulsation while ever time lasted: space never exhausted, and no turning back....."

Cues From Nature - Robert Glenn

No matter what our style, medium or subject matter, our work takes its cues from nature. Nature determines our accepted norms of beauty and is the basis of our ideas of design. These aesthetic semi-laws find their source in the tiniest forms--animal, vegetable and mineral. Through a universe of shells, flowers, scales, crystals, plumage, limbs, landforms, skies, to the very ends of the heavens, we read and delight in the creative hand of nature. There's an education on the underside of any salamander.

Science writer Philip Ball has noted, "Artists are starting to use the pattern-forming algorithms like cellular automata to create visual art and music." Actually, nature's structures have been actively appropriated since the dawn of human art. Design within design is the nature of nature. This raw material is a gift to creators. Here are a few non-rigid thoughts for those who might be thinking about nature in their art:

Gradations attract, enfold and please. Curves are more sensual than straights. The obvious is enchanted by the hidden. Protrusions are contrasted with indentions. Patterns fascinate, involve and deceive. Repetitions are to forms what beats are to music. Symmetry mirrors and honours the human body. Whorls and vortexes tempt and seduce. Colour, pure or muted, is its own magic. Strong contrasts provide drama and excitement. Soft edges invite touch and caress. Disappearing acts create mystery and intrigue. Camouflage has both honour and mirth. Bracts and branches are a principle of life. Articulation rattles the bones. Spikes and spines provide discomfort and unease. Radiation echoes a sun god and the hand of man. Water brings both tranquility and turbulence. Squares and triangles give strength and stability. The list goes on. Nature's designs range from high schlock to understated good taste. They present us with an ever-changing march of variety and magnificence.

"Nature," says biologist Hans Meinhardt, "has been allowed to play." Artists may take courage from this cue.

"Nature is a dictionary; one draws words from it." (Eugene Delacroix)
"Nature is inside art as its content, not outside as its model." (Northrop Frye)
Esoterica: Witnessing natural biodiversity and the variety and adaptation of species, one might conclude that we are in a kind of Darwinian experiment where various models and designs are tested. Pure art, stripped of promotional baggage, operates in a similar way. "Appeal" is often the main criterion by which one piece stands out against the next--and determines survival. We are living at a time when design, designer, and the viewer of the design are all being tested. What about the idea of "progress"?

Please God, Give Me Chocolate

Annie at "Earthen Vessel" made this cake for her Bible Study group. She went to a lot of effort to make this dessert, and I couldn't help but think that she is 'on the right road' to understanding love and hospitality. She found a fantastic recipe, and went to the effort to create something very special.

Cooking for others is a spiritual act. It tells others that we treasure them. We give them our very best, and we want them to savor our love as much as our meal or dessert.

Oh, I wish I had a piece of this, right now...

Universal Declaration of Human Rights

"Kol bin-ai ha-udum no-lidu binai chorin vi-shuvim bi-er-chum oovizich ooyot aihem choolum chonayny bativonuh oovima-tz-phoon, lipheechuch chovuh ahlayhem leenihog eesh biraiayhu birooch shel ah-chvuh."

Translation:
All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood. (Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights)

Growing Up In The Shadow Of Saddam

I've just finished reading "Between Two Worlds", by Zainab Salbi, which I featured in this post, after I saw her featured on a book review on TV. It is no mystery why she founded 'Women For Women', an organization dedicated to improving the conditions of women living under the tyrrany of war.

Her book, a personal memoir, is a riveting quest for truth that deepens our understanding of the universal themes of power, fear, sexual subjugation, and the question one generation asks the one before it: How could you have let this happen to us? She asked that question of her parents, knowing that her father, a pilot, could have just flown all of them away. He was Saddam Hussein's pilot.

Once I started reading this book, I could hardly put it down. It was compelling, documenting the many abuses of power and friendship that Saddam perpetrated on her own family. It was a study in pathology, in the perverse controling methods he used to intimate and manipulate everyone around him. The parallels were similar to the methods Hitler used to create fear in the people he ruled. Both men had megalomania, a delusional mental disorder marked by infantile feelings of personal omnipotence which result in bizarre and brutal methods of personal interaction.

She describes many of Saddam's responses, his inconsistencies, his love for creating fear in those around him. She says, "I'm convinced if you understood the way he managed the competition of his 'beloved ones' you would understand how he stayed in power for thirty-five years even though millions of his people hated him and there were ongoing domestic and international plots to assassinate him. Our 'family gatherings' were a microcosm of how Amo (Saddam) not only spread but maintained fear inside the Baath Party and his Republican Guard and even our classrooms at school. He took pleasure in pitting people against one another - couple against couple, spouse against spouse, child against child."

But, Saddams spiritual degeneracy was just one of the features of the book. The most compelling issue was rape - the rape of women in war torn countries worldwide. I was left with the question, "Why do men rape women in warzones?" Do they not have better instruments of war, other than sexual violence? Zainab Salbi said rape is for the purpose of degradation, a certified method of torture in many countries. It is also a way of manipulating the men in the culture, to destroy the social connections.

I know that dictators who use such methods never survive long in power. Ultimately they are overthrown, and wind up, like Saddam, being dug out of a hole in the ground.

The ending of the book is one of reclaiming her 'voice', of speaking out against the inhuman treatment of women during war. The author goes back to Baghdad, for a family visit. She searches out her old family home long abandoned, and writes:

"I was surrounded by a flock of children and I felt myself being swept along by strangers and into the old house. A homeless family had been living there watching the house for our family and they gave me tea. Pigeons were nesting everywhere and the windows were shattered. But, we rebuilt Mama's childhood home into a place where women could meet and learn new job skills and organize. We filled rooms with cushions on the floor where they could talk about their social, economic, and political roles in society, as well as just share laughter and tears."

"I remember in particular the day we held an event to celebrate a small but critical victory: a neighborhood organizing campaign in which women had overcome a cultural proscription against women cleaning public streets. Hundreds of women in black abayas filled the courtyard. I couldn't help myself; tears started dropping from my eyes. The house looked as I had imagined it from my mother's stories about Ashura and other times when my grandparents used to open their home. We brought out that day the same pots my grandparents had used, only instead of fasenjoon tourshana and rice, they were filled with kebab sandwiches, pizza, and cans of Pepsi."

"I am back, Mama," I told her. "I wish you were here with me."

Shoe Collection At The Backdoor

I saw these out on the back porch today. I hope I'm never in that much of a hurry. How about you?

Fer Cryin' Out Loud! No Way!

Well, that will teach me to access a Word-play Tool - Anagrams. I submitted my full name here, punched in 'flattering' for the emphasis, and got this for all my effort: "Brain ill-omened Satan". Wanna play?

Get Out The Spellcheck, Robert Burns

From Tam O'Shanter: A Tale

"When chapman billies leave the street,
And drouthy neebors, neebors meet,
As market-days are wearing late,
An' folk begin to tak the gate;
While we sit bousing at the nappy,
An' getting fou and unco happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps, and styles,
That lie between us and our hame,
Whare sits our sulky sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.
This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter,
As he frae Ayr ae night did canter,
(Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses,
For honest men and bonie lasses).

Robert Burns (1759-1796)

Scottish Poetry Library here...

Getting Ready For Spring Planting

These are our first purchases for the spring garden - grass seed for a bare section in our backyard, where I took out a goat corral; and some Ferry Morse Snow Peas and Sugar Snap Peas.

We had a nice stretch of sunshine yesterday, and the temp was up - perfect for broadcasting the grass seed. George is going to work the peas this year - a first crop, before the pole beans.

Old General Stores and 56 Studebakers

I enjoy seeing rundown farmhouses, outbuildings and old barns. There is an artistic appeal there, with buildings showing weathered boards, leaning at impossible angles.

This is a small town, Windyville, once a thriving place, full of life and activity. But now it sits empty and lifeless, slowly settling into a forgotten history page.

Here is a general store and a garage. There’s definitely a sense of mystery —stories that will never be known. I imagine people coming to that forelorn town and staying in a little hotel. I would love to know what price per gallon the gas was then. Maybe 20 cents a gallon? ...and I can just imagine a 1956 Studebaker .

Go check out Frank Ambrogio's first restoration experience - he talks about finding an old Studebaker: The car came equipped with automatic transmission, power steering, white wall tires, push button radio with internally controlled antenna, full wheel disks, cigar lighter, electric clock, back-up lamps, climatizer, directional signals, and windshield washers.

I like the photo of how things looked after about 2 hours of cleaning out his friend's garage. They found the car, under years of dust. It had'nt been driven in 15 years - and it started in 10 minutes. Way to go!

Not Your Ordinary Spell-Checker

I have a spelling checker. It came with my PC. It plane lee marks four my revue, Miss steaks aye can knot sea.

Eye ran this poem threw it, Your sure reel glad two no. Its vary polished in it's weigh. My checker tolled me sew.

A checker is a bless sing. It freeze yew lodes of thyme. It helps me right awl stiles two reed, And aides me when aye rime.

Each frays come posed up on my screen. Eye trussed to bee a joule. The checker poured o'er every word. To cheque sum spelling rule.

Be fore a veiling checkers. Hour spelling mite decline. And if were lacks or have a laps. We wood be maid to wine.

Butt now bee cause my spelling Is checked with such grate flare, Their are know faults with in my cite, Of none eye am a wear.

Now spelling does knot phase me. It does knot bring a tier. My pay purrs awl due glad den, With wrapped words fare as hear.

To rite with care is quite a feet. Of witch won should be proud. And wee mussed dew the best wee can. Sew flaws are knot aloud.

Sow ewe can sea why aye dew prays. Such soft ware for pea seas. And why I brake in two averse, By righting wants too pleas.

So, You Want A Tour - Here It Is

One of my commenters asked what my home looked like now, after I wrote a post about the apartment I had before I got married. In that post I described the little motiffs that defined my life back then - the hippie lifestyle, macrame wall hangings, beads, candles, jars filled with rice and beans. Those features defined 'then', when I lived as a single woman with a small daughter in a one, plus, bedroom apartment in Missoula, Montana.

It was there that I met my husband, George, moved away from Missoula, married him, and after almost 30 years together we now live here in Tacoma. We bought this little bungalo ten years ago, with the thought of a small retirement home for the two of us - empty nesters. It is in the University district, near a quaint little shopping district - the Proctor district. My most immediate shopping needs are three blocks away - a bank, a Bartell Drug, and an Espresso Bar! Also close by are a little corner grocery store, a laundrymat, a hardware store/lumber yard, and a firestation.

Our last son, Taraz, is getting ready to move out into a place of his own, and then we will restore the guest room and George's study back to what they were, when all of the kids 'flew the coop'. Our house is very small - just a kitchen, den, living room, our bedroom and two bathrooms on the first floor. The study, guest room, and half-bath are upstairs....yes, three bathrooms in this little house. That was because we had 3 teenagers living with us when we bought it, and that is what they (I) needed.

I have no decorating style anymore - just a mix-match blend of 'whatever lasted'. I enjoy the Mediterranean look - tile, wrought-iron, Turkish wall hangings, Buddhist fabric paintings, scented candles and incense. But, I've got remnants from my interest in Victorian fabrics - on the sofa, and lace curtains, floral bouquets in bathrooms. I've put most of the books upstairs in George's study, and put my little collections on bookcase shelves. I like simplicity, and comfort, just the basics here in my four rooms downstairs. So, take the tour - I'll show you my favorite motiffs.

Little Collections on the Bookshelves

Just about everything on my bookshelves has been given to me by friends - a real mix of gifts.

Coffee Makers and Miniatures Collection

The top photo is of my kitchen, with the laundry center around the corner in front of the large windows. A large pantry is around this corner, and this is toward the back door. I was so undecided about what kind of coffee maker to get, that I just got a small 5 cup brew-maker; then my daughter brought over her black espresso-maker - so I've got room for both of them here. Those are wonderful geraniums at the window - all different colors and types.

The little shelves were made by my Dad and they hold my miniature pottery collection. I've actually used a glue gun to keep them up there solidly - and they've lasted through a couple of earthquakes. And the last photo here is of the stairwell going to the guestroom and study upstairs. A sylight is great for plants, and the little square window holds more pottery and my shell collection from our canoe glides.

My Bedroom Dresser - Lichen, Beads and Rocks

Naw, No Waterbed For Me Tonight

Remembering the old Jewish comics of Vaudeville days, I recall Shecky Green, Red Buttons, Dotie Fields, Milton Berle, Henny Youngman, and others. You've probably heard of them before, but don't you miss their humor?

"I just got back from a pleasure trip. I took my mother-in-law to the airport."

"Someone stole all my credit cards, but I won't be reporting it. The thief spends less than my wife did."

"We always hold hands. If I let go, she shops."

"My wife and I went to hotel where we got a waterbed. My wife called it the Dead Sea."

"The Doctor called Mrs. Cohen saying, "Mrs. Cohen, your check came back."Mrs. Cohen answered, "So did my arthritis!"

Not An Aspiring Francophile Here

You don't have to be an aspiring Francophile to appreciate this collection of well-known and not so well-known French quotations. They touch upon a variety of subjects and, contrary to what one might think in these days of difficult Franco-American relations, underscore the similarities between our two cultures. Although, politically speaking, the U.S.- French relationship has all too often been one of conflict, one seemingly formulated on the assumption that the United States and France are somehow "adversaries", it is all the more reassuring to realize how common our two cultures seem to "think".

You are sure to find that this small collection of sayings makes these similarities apparent. Might it even be that the problems between these two countries lie in the very similarities they share with one another?

Faites-vous des amis prompts à vous censurer. Make friends with those who would be quick to criticize you. Boileu.

Le plus grand faible des hommes, c'est l'amour qu'ils ont de la vie. Man's greatest weakness is his love of life. Molière.

La vérité vaut bien qu'on passe quelques années sans la trouver. Truth is more valuable if it takes you a few years to find it. Renard

La parfaite valeur est de faire sans témoin ce qu'on serait capable de faire devant tout le monde. True valour is to do in secrecy what you could just have easily done before others. La Rochefoucauld.

A vaincre sans péril, on triomphe sans gloire. To win without risk is a triumph without glory. Corneille.

Le travail éloigne de nous trois grands maux: l'ennui, le vice et le besoin. Work delivers us from three great evils: boredom, vice and want. Voltaire.

Quiconque flatte ses maîtres les trahit. He who flatters his superiors betrays them. Massillon.

Le temps est un grand maître, dit-on, le malheur est qu'il tue ses élèves. We say that time is a great teacher. It's too bad that it also kills all its students. Berlioz.

Du sublime au ridicule il n'y a qu'un pas. It's just one step from the sublime to the ridiculous. Napoléon.

Qui craint de souffrir, il souffre déjà de ce qu'il craint. He who fears suffering is already suffering that which he fears. La Fontaine.