More From The Market

Our day up in Seattle started out by watching the fishmongers at the Pikes Place Market. They have a reputation for exceptionally good customer service. In fact, a motivational film was made using their business philosophy - "Catch". I remember watching this film when I was working. It showed the most joyous, committed guys, just having fun. Their slogan: Stop floundering! Get committed in your life and work! We stood and watched them sell, package and pack the fish, shouting out to one another while throwing and catching the salmon.

Crowds packed this area, taking pictures and visiting with the fishmongers, all of whom are listed on the company's website. You can actually learn more about all of them. Keith Bish, called "the Bear", greeted everyone. Although he is dressed in fishing gear, I have a hunch he is a successful businessman/entertainer who probably knows just how to 'steal the show'.... "At the World Famous Pike Place Fish Market, we know that it’s possible for each of us as human beings to impact the way other people experience life. Through our work, we’re out to improve the quality of life for everyone. We are working inside the possibility of world peace and prosperity for all people. This is our commitment - that’s who we are - it’s what we do."
The fresh fruits and vegetables were especially attractive, with colors that seemed out of this world.

Imagine, raspberries, grapes, mangos and cherries this time of year. All the color was an antidote for the greys of winter! People were chatting, laughing and smiling. The crowds were wonderful - maybe just what a person needs to see to get through the bleak haze of winter!

We strolled through many of the isles of vegetables and flowers, and I bought a huge bouquet of dried flowers which I put in my guestroom upstairs.

Alleyways in Seattle

We walked down this ramp to reach an old cobbled alleyway near the Pike Place Market on Saturday.

This is an area of Seattle that gets over 7 million visitors every year. Situated on a hill overlooking Elliot Bay, it is the most famous part of Seattle's commercial district.

It was a tad spooky as my eyes adjusted to the low light of the alley. Several men walked uphill to the market, bent over, carefully considering each step as they passed by.

I'm fascinated by alleyways, by the lack of pretense, by the unexpected. You'll see pidgeons here, pecking at crumbs, and homeless men rumage through garbage cans.

This wall is a depository, for chewing gum. Over the years, passersby have covered the walls with chewing gum, pressed into the surface of the bricks and mortar.

Looking closer, I noticed some artists chewed double wads, to create words strung out into letters, holding embelishments, like feathers, coins, shells and colorful stones.

Gum became mortar, holding images of starfish, hearts, and initials. Anything, to say "I've been here. I've left something of myself behind."

Sounds of the Street

This rousing gospel group clapped their hands and sang in harmony, causing crowds to gather around the Starbucks at the Pike Place Market. It was a gorgeous, sunny aftaernoon, just perfect for a day in the city. Urban professionals joined the tourists frequenting the little eateries at the Market, escaping high-rise offices for a little fresh air, lunch, and exceptionally good entertainment.

Over 100 street performers earn a living working the streets around Pikes Place Market. They pay $15.00 for a permit that allows a performer to remain in one of 13 designated spots for one hour. At some point, the musicians move to a different location, rotating their areas. They seem to really enjoy playing to the crowds, sharing their music.

As we visited many of the little outdoor markets, the music followed, lending a delightful ambience to our afternoon. It felt like a celebration, with fiddle players, accordian players, ball jugglers and guitarists all contributing.

Longbranch on the Key Peninsula

We loaded up the canoe for an early morning paddle near Longbranch, on the Key Peninsula. It couldn't have been more tranquil, with the fog lifting up off the water and slowly vanishing. It was 32 degrees, and frost lined all the trees and shrubs along the roadway to our put-in place here.
The marinas were all closed. Not a soul around. Just a stunningly beautiful Sunday morning on Puget Sound.

We paddled along, slowly pulling the canoe through beautiful, clear water. We rounded this gravel- bank and came across a large flock of seagulls. When we approach- ed, about 70 of them flew up into the air, then landed again, hunkering quietly down.

We were the only ones out on the water. As the fog burned off and it got a little warmer a few watercraft powered along out far in the channel between us and Anderson Island. The ripples from the boats caused our canoe to ride the swells, dipping and splashing.

There were only a few houses along the shoreline. I especial- ly liked this one.

We paddled for about three hours, beaching the canoe several times to check out the driftwood on the shoreline. I found some pretty rocks to add to my collection, and discovered a huge piece of styrofoam ( 3 feet by 7 feet) that had washed up onto the beach. I wanted to see how it floated, so I layed down on it, and pushed myself out into the water a few feet. It drifted in the current, bobbing up and down. I closed my eyes, and stretched out. Within a minute the current brought me back to the shoreline, and I just layed there rocking back and forth, sliding into the rocks. What generous-spirited lulabyes I could have composed, right then and there, had I put my mind to it!

Our son Rue and his wife Annie are expecting a baby! This will be my second grandchild, an addition to Daisy who is now ten. I've waited ten years for this happy, blessed news. And, while Annie may be in the throes of fatigue due to her pregnancy, I'm reminiscing .... pulling out old baby clothes.

These were given to me by my aunt, who said they were worn by her and my mother. All of them handmade with the most tender little stitches.

They are almost 90 years old. The fabric is so thin it is almost transparent. They have the tiniest buttons and snaps, unlike anything I've seen today. I cannot imagine a baby holding still long enough for the parent to push the button through the tiny hole!

This satin dress must have been special, as all of the decorative lace and stitching were meticulous.

I recall when my babies were born, I had sewn little gowns for all of them, for those first few months. I also made quilts, and later I sewed their coveralls out of durable fabric, with heavy snaps for the shoulderstraps and the legs. It was a way of taking care of my child while I waited for the birth. I also enjoyed going to the fabric store, paging through pattern-books, and selecting colors and patterns that I couldn't find in the stores. I always felt that anything hand-done just looked better than storebought.

All of my children received little hand crocheted sweaters and caps when they were born, lovingly made by George's mother. As the kids grew, they'd get a new sweater from Grandma Dannells every year. She also knitted afghans for them. It kept her busy throughout the year, planning each blanket, sweater, and cap. She learned that I liked sweaters to extend way below the waistline, down the hips, to keep their bottoms warm. It may have looked funny, but in Montana that was what was needed.

I haven't used my sewing machine in several years. I hope to get it cleaned, so that I can work on a small quilt, and put together a few little garments for Annie and Rue's new baby. It is a delightful way to stay busy and to daydream, imagining the delight Annie and Rue will feel when they bring their new baby home.

Ruhi Study Circles Throughout the World

Here, we are starting Book 7, Ruhi Institute: Walking Together on a Path of Service. This is our Sunday evening class, with 11 participants. Throughout the world, the Ruhi Study Circles are used as a learning tool, a system for the delivery of courses on teaching and learning. As an individual's knowledge of the Baha'i Faith grows, so does his capacity to serve it.

These are participants in the first study circle in Aasiaat, Greenland in the middle of winter in the Disko Bay region in the northwest. Ruhi Book 1 is now translated into the Greenlandic language kalaallisut, a dialect of the Inuit language group.

Courtesy of Shahla Gillbanks, New Zealand Ruhi Book 1 collaborators, Wellington, New Zealand.

Courtesy of Anwar Jahan, Micronesia. Youth group which has almost completed "Drawing on the Power of the Word", at the Baha'i Centre in Pohnpei, Federated States of Micronesia. Participants: Sama and Jovian. Tutor: Anwar.

Courtesy of Foujan Jenner, Baha'i World Centre. Book 7 Study Circle Participants, Baha'i World Centre, Haifa, Israel.

Courtesy of Sigga Jonsdottir, Iceland. In January 2005 they started a Book 6 Study Circle in Reykjavik, Iceland. There are 8 people in the study circle and the tudor was Elsa B. They met over three weekends.

Courtesy of Tahani Helmy, Nigeria. Courtesy of Kayzad Jafari, India. Ruhi Book 1 class in Dehradun, India, in which most of the participants are friends of the Faith. First Junior Youth training of tutors in Nigeria.

Three friends from the local congregation were asked, "When you're in your casket, and friends and congregation members are mourning over you, what would you like them to say?" Artie said: "I would like them to say I was a wonderful husband, a fine spiritual leader, and a great family man." Eugene commented: "I would like them to say I was a wonderful teacher and servant of God who made a huge difference in people's lives." Al said: "I'd like them to say, "Look, he's moving!" ...... (thanks to Oldeupher)

Are You Sure You Want To See This?

This is the sand-based wall paint that I used on the main bathroom downstairs. It provides a wonderful texture, but mostly covers up a lot of flaws. I used it only on the walls, not the ceiling.

I'm still swamped with repairs and cleaning. This week I'll start to sew a bedskirt for our bed, to hide those awlful boxsprings and rollers. Macy's wanted $200.00 for bedskirts, so I went to JoAnn's Fabrics, and got a durable forest green fabric that I will ruffle and attach....for about $14.00. Should take most of a day to put it together. The only problem with bedskirts, you can stub your toe on those rollers if you don't see them. I have one of them wrapped....it took 3 monthes to heal a broken toe.

There was never a night that could defeat sunrise. ~ unknown.

First we receive the light, then we impart it. Thus we repair the world. ~ from "Kabbalah, a Love Story" by Rabbi Lawrence Kushner

The ideals which have lighted my way, and time after time have given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been kindness, beauty and truth. ~ Albert Einstein

Truly, it is in the darkness that one finds the light, so when we are in sorrow, then this light is nearest of all to us. ~ Meister Johann Eckhart

In my previous post, Leila comented, "how is it, to have so much unusual snow?"

This is a photo taken this week by Tim Hall, Annie's dad, of the pond on their property. Isn't it exquisite! The snow is deep and lasting this winter, which is uncommon for this area. It makes everything look connected in deep peace.

The cold temperatures and wind, however, caused one of our outdoor waterpipes to burst on Monday, flooding the patio. The water turned to ice, and we had this skating rink available, with lawn chairs along the side. Water sprayed out onto the patio for over a day until I could get the plumber. Since Monday was a holiday, we just let the water spray rather than pay overtime fees.

Since this pipe burst last winter too, I had the waterpipe rerouted under the house by our plumbers, and they installed a pipe that can expand slightly when frozen. There is a frost-proof water spigot attached to the house also, which will prevent further explosions during freezing weather. I think I've got all our bases covered, should we have another storm like this next winter.

Thank goodness I had a snow shovel handy, as I had to find the water meters down in the ground at the corner of our block. They were buried under 6 inches of snow. As the plumber asked, "Where is your shut-off valve?" I shoveled the snow off the 3 meters, pointed to the one in the middle, and hoped it wasn't frozen shut. It took them only an hour to do the repairs, and then we turned the water back on.

Yesterday I had the furnace repairman come back over, as the blowers in the furnace just would not shut off after warming the house to my desired temperature of 69 - 70 degrees. It kept blowing hot air until an outrageous 74 degrees caused me to remove my sweater and long sleeved shirt. There I was, panting away like it was summertime, clad in a sleeveless shirt! I ran outside and shut off the power to the furnace. I called the furnace repair company, which had just done an inspection and repairs last week, and they came over right away.

While the guys worked on the furnace I continued resurfacing the walls in the main bathroom with textured paint. I'm swirling little patterns with crisp edges onto the wall. They remind me of old textured walls in villas in Italy.

With the contractor having done the bathroom remodeling, the furnace repairmen upgrading the sequencer and circuit breaker, the plumbers putting in a new pipe, the insulation people working under the house, and the constant phonecalls I've had to make to keep things rolling, I've made another important decision - I'm getting a landline for our phone. My cellphone has been dropping too many calls, some right in the middle of important conversations. Winter storms also caused four days of non-stop static. I've had problems with my cellphone for several years, and five visits to Verizon for upgrades and changes hasn't given me the reliability I need. I've decided also to use a track phone to carry in my car for emergencies.

So, the gentle peace of wintertime snow can trigger a lot of repairs and upgrades, but once done they should keep our little home safe and warm. Currently, the snow is melting in the streets, and the collard greens that were pushing up in the garden are starting to uncurl from that white blanket that buried them. There is a chance, weather permitting, that I may venture out for an afternoon walk today now that the ice is gone.

This is Mordrid, waiting it out on a snowy winter afternoon in our guest room. He is the most optimistic of our two cats, and the most aggressively affectionate.
Our little feline, Pandora, is going on 10 years now. She can't seem to tolerate the cold weather and snow very long, and will scratch at the front windows to be let in. Then, she'll make a bee-line for this toasty spot over the livingroom heat-register.

The weather outside is still quite bitter, cold and icy. Most of our excursions into the countryside must be post-poned, as it is just so miserable out. I haven't driven my car in over a week, and it still has a good 6 inches of snow on the top of the hood. Just the thought of trying to warm up the engine seems unconscionable. It wants to remain ice-bound until the street warms up. That is quite unlikely, as more snow is predicted for our area.

Wintertime projects have kept me quite busy. I've had the insulation redone under the house, had the furnace upgraded, the furnace vents cleaned and repaired - all to make our little house warmer before the blast of winter threatens to force us to relocate to a warmer climate! I've had new linoleum put down in the main bathroom downstairs, had a new power-flush toilet installed, and this coming week I will apply a coat of 'sandpaper paint' to the walls and ceiling to freshen them up. This type of effect hides a lot of blemishes in the walls, and gives a pleasant textured look. Once done, I can hang something decorative and make it look a little more inviting. One thing about January repairs - contractors are generally more available right after Christmas during the 'downtime', that period when people are recovering from the holidays. I was fortunate to get good people, and immediate wonderful service.

I've been fortunate to have a few delightful visitors over the past several days. That always helps to alleviate the winter dolldrums. My friend Marge, whom I met at the Spirit House on the Puyullup Reservation, came over last week, and she generously allowed me to videotape a 2 hour segment about her Tsimshian-Haida ancestry. She is working on her Master's degree in Social Work, with the hope of doing rehabilitative counseling in Alaska. I'm very interested in Native American culture, having spent some ten years studying personal narratives by Alaska residents and the Native American population.

Our Baha'i friend Pattabi Raman, friends Judith, Nancy and Marge, came over on the weekend for 'the Baha'i Salon', an interactive dialogue about 'passions and Faith' that George has presented over the past 6 monthes in our home. While we enjoyed a simple meal in the den, everyone had a chance to share what was important to them, whether the passion of family, a drumming circle, continuing education, ethnic diversities, or global events. With the icy winds outside, and a fire in the hearth, friends visiting in winter are a significant bright light. As George puts it:

"Such diversity, ethnic and otherwise. Old and new Baha'is, a Seventh-Day Adventist, Hawaiian, Chinese, East Indian, and American Indian, and European heritages in the mix. Pattabi introduced himself as F.B.I - full-blooded Indian, as he is from South India.We went around and around the room, Salon-style, in our toasty house."

We visited with our daughter Laurel and her husband Mehran in their home up in Renton, visited with Taraz and Megan, then finished off our 3-day weekend with the Martin Luther King Celebration at the Tacoma Dome, followed by an afternoon of fellowship with our Baha'i friends.

The Spirit of Sisterhood

A young wife sat on a sofa on a hot humid day, drinking iced tea and visiting with her Mother. As they talked about life, about marriage, about the responsibilities of life and the obligations of adulthood, the mother clinked the ice cubes in her glass thoughtfully and turned a clear, sober glance upon her daughter. "Don't forget your Sisters," she advised, swirling the tea leaves to the bottom of her glass. "They'll be more important as you get older.

No matter how much you love your husband, no matter how much you love the children you may have, you are still going to need sisters. Remember to go places with them now and then; do things with them. "Remember that 'sisters' means ALL the women... your girlfriends, your daughters, and all your other women relatives too. "You'll need other women. Women always do."

What a funny piece of advice!' the young woman thought. Haven't I just gotten married? Haven't I just joined the couple-world? I'm now a married woman, for goodness sake! A grownup! Surely my husband and the family we may start will be all I need to make my life worthwhile!' But she listened to her Mother. She kept contact with her sisters and made more women friends each year. As the years tumbled by, one after another, she gradually came to understand that her Mom really knew what she was talking about. As time and nature work their changes and their mysteries upon a woman, sisters are the mainstays of her life.

After more than 50 years of living in this world, here is what I've learned: Time passes. Life happens. Distance separates. Children grow up. Jobs come and go. Love waxes and wanes. Men don't do what they're supposed to do. Hearts break. Parents die. Colleagues forget favors. Careers end. BUT......... Sisters are there, no matter how much time and how many miles are between you. A girl friend is never farther away than needing her can reach. When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on, praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the valley's end. Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you...Or come in and carry you out.

Girlfriends, daughters, granddaughters, daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, Mothers, Grandmothers, aunties, nieces, cousins, and extended family, all bless our life! The world wouldn't be the same without women, and neither would I. When we began this adventure called womanhood, we had no idea of the incredible joys or sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other. Every day, we need each other still.

(thanks to Debbie for passing along this e-mail)

When I opened my eyes this morning, the room was whiter and brighter, and I knew the snow had come. Weather advisories predicted the storm. I went out on my porch, took a deep breath, and greeted the morning. The sun was just coming out.

While holding my coffee, I watched George walk to his car. Things change around here when 3 inches of snow falls. Schools are closed, everyone drives slower. The stillness and quiet are broken by the calls of chicadees in the bushes. When the sun comes up, I'll be making some footprints of my own.

There is just a hint of sunshine and freshness here at the entrance to Sunrise Beach. We drove over on Sunday, just to catch a breath of invigorating air.

We walked in the rain, down to a little sheltered area on the beach, where the waves were pounding white foam onto the sand. This is a popular scuba-diving and snorkeling area, where there is a creviced wall about 30 to 60 feet deep and 100 feet long.
Wolf Eels and octopus inhabit the area. The current here can be hazardous, and awhile back someone perished while scuba-diving. Divers have to know the currents and the tides to explore safely.

The area all around Gig Harbor is still suffering the ravages of winter storms. Trees littered the edges of the roads, deadfall sprawled in the forests, and nothing seemed welcoming in the pounding rain.

The sky was deeply overcast, by the time we got to Crescent Lake. Rain pelted the water like a barrage of bullets or buckshot. A hypodermic syringe bobbed in the deitris, and someone had thrown garbage into the brush. A few scant leaves wobbled high on tree branches. We stayed only briefly, taking in the stillness across the lake, the pelting rain.

Ruhiyyih said, "Next time, prick the skin with a fork, before you bake them." It lets the air out.

I've been swamped with cleaning and home-repair projects, with about 8 men coming and going. Major repairs to the insulation under the house, the furnace and vents, and the men's bathroom. Seems like January is a good time to tackle this, as once the weather warms up, nobody wants to be inside doing cleaning and repairs. It will be time to get out the garden tools....or, go camping.

We heard the sounds of mallards. They swam right through this, as if they were finger-painting...... I would love to do that!

Off The Library Racks

I was amazed to find this book, Baghdad Burning II on the 'new arrivals' shelf at the Tacoma Public Library. You see, the author of this book, Riverbend, is the first blogger I ever read! It was just several years ago that I learned how to use the computer, and with that newly found skill I decided to explore one day: First, 'mud-built dwellings in Iraq', then, when it presented the website, there was a display logo that asked "Do you wish to read Iraqi blogs?"

I didn't even know what a blog was, but I pressed the button. A list of Iraqi blogs filled the monitor. "Baghdad Burning" was a provocative name, and I pressed the title. Up popped one of the most intimate, powerful and moving accounts of life in Baghdad during the war. She started writing her account in 2003, saying, as an introduction, "A little bit about myself: I'm female, Iraqi, and 24. I survived the war. That's all you need to know. It's all that matters these days anyway." From later postings, I learned that she belonged to a middle-class Baghdad family that was about half Shia and half Sunni. She had been educated and held a job as a computer programmer. At one point during the war, she became so frustrated and anxious, she knew the only way to maintain her sanity would be to do a weblog. But, she thought, "who would read it?" Over the years, over 10,000 readers were hooked with the drama of her daily life.

I was hooked with the suspense of her life: The daily raids, rationings, mortor fire, water problems, the lack of electricity, the check points, the Iraqi National Guard, and the insurgents. I wanted to know about the everyday life of the Iraqi women, how they managed a routine in a war-zone. I was amazed at all the inconveniences, like waiting in line for 13 hours to fill the family car with gas, then siphoning it out to power the neighborhood generator. I was impressed with how she described something as simple as 'going to the market' to buy food: If the war was going bad, you could tell. A lack of tomatoes, for example, meant that the roads to Basra were closed, while an absence of citrus fruits meant touble in Diyala province.

Needless to say, I spent many months reading her blog, and worrying about her. Imagine the surprise, when I discovered that thousands of people throughout the world had felt the same way, and that her blog had been published! She won the Lettre Ulysses Award for the Art of Literary Reportage in 2005 for "Baghdad Burning: Girl Blog From Iraq".

So, I'm currently re-reading many of her posts in this book, which also can be found online, on her blog.


I also picked up "Meetings with Remarkable Muslims: A collection of Travel Writing" edited by Barnaby Rogerson and Rose Baring. I not only had hoped to find narratives that overcome the bias and prejudice of the current press, but I wanted to find written images that explored the Middle East, like Morocco, Turkey, Afghanistan, and the Sahara Desert.

One writer, Robin Hanbury-Tenison, writes: "...there are other factors that have drawn me here... Yesterday as I walked off by myself into the dunes for the first time I realised it was the silence that had brought me back to the desert. It is tangible. It is why everyone should spend some time in the real desert. It engenders humility. I know I shall be humbled as I enter the deep isolation of the northern air. There, I will be among unimaginably barren mountains; I will feel dwarfed by my surroundings, isolated and entirely alone. I can't wait. As I sit in the darkness under my hanging lamp, while the Tuareg have a most animated gossip around the fire in front of me, the new moon rises to my left and all augurs well."

Those optimistic words remind me of the 1990 movie "The Sheltering Sky" , one of my all-time favorites. The film, by Bernardo Bertolucci, portrays the fascination with exotic cultures that most tourists have, with the twist of horror that can occur when relationships disintegrate and the itinerary 'goes all wrong'. This movie is a 'must see' if you like John Malkovitch or Debra Winger. It was filmed in Algeria, Niger, Morocco, and Tangiers. Just fantastic imagery.

I guess, for me, a good video, book or blog will provide the journey I would like to take, safely, but from a comfortable chair in my livingroom. I'm a willing reader. Sometimes, I'm not quite prepared for the brutal honesty of writers and film-makers, like Riverbend and Bernardo Bertolucci, but I'm grateful for their artistry, and their dedication to bring it to their readers/ movie viewers.

Amidst all the celebratory poinsettias and amyrillis at the Seymour Conservatory, we found a host of orchids. A few are included here....

Coping With The Challenges of Life

I may have written this last year, but I'm pulling it out of my archives for another dusting off. This time of year, we all need a good rest from the exertions of the holidays. We need time to ponder what we will carry over into the new year. Here are some words of wisdom:

Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue.

Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.

Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.

Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be recalled by their Maker.

If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.

If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.

Never buy a car you can't push.

Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you won't have a leg to stand on.

Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.

Since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.

The second mouse gets the cheese.When every thing's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.

Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.

We could learn a lot from crayons. Some are sharp, some are pretty and some are dull, some have weird names, and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box.

And the one I want printed on a t-shirt:"It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others."