Sunday, September 30, 2007

egrets


Yesterday, en route home from Baghdad By the Bay, I spotted, right off the highway - a large flock of egrets. The birds were wading in the shallow wetlands approaching Sacramento. Egret sighting is not uncommon, yet somehow it's always a bit startling (to me) to come upon these birds in their natural habitat.

I'm always impressed by the stark contrast of an egret's sharp white outline against the muted browns and grays of the slough or lagoon waters where they're often found fishing. In settings such as these, the birds appear to be white cardboard cut-out shapes...

Just about thirty years ago (no, HolyMoly, could it really be 30!?!) HD, DollinkDaughterLLS and I resided on the edge of the Marina Lagoon. That was when we 'lived amongst egrets'.

We could walk out the backyard gate or take a look from our (second story bedroom) window and see the big snowy white birds cavorting, alongside quick moving little black coots in the lagoon/on the shore some yards from our fence.

The fishing was fine, and in addition to egrets and coots, various other shorebirds frequented the lagoon as well.
Pelicans and seagulls circled above, keeping a keen eye on the surface of the water. Sand crabs would inadvertently make their way onto the shallow sand bar, and the birds would swoop down and tuck into a meal.

Much educational fun was had by DollinkDaughterLLS and her parents when they lived in this area and learned a bit about Bay Area flora and fauna. DDLLS loved taking walks along the lagoon and searching for tiny crabs on the shoreline...

Ah - you gotta give it up for the cheap thrills.
With this brief shorebird sighting, how totally engrossed (and easily entertained) I could become with fond thoughts of good times past...

Life really is all about the making of little memorable moments, isn't it?

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Mah Jong tiles


The game of Mah-Jongg ('mah-jeurk') looms large in the legend of my family-of-origin.

To me, playing Mah-Jongg means continuing the family tradition!
A good thing.

Mah-Jongg tiles have a bit of weight in the hand and smooth to the touch. The tiles are also pretty to look at.
I love to handle MJ tiles and enjoy the 'click' sound when they are tapped gently together .

As a kid, I slept for a time in the dining-room-converted-into-a-bedroom, right off the kitchen. At least once a week, Mom, Dad and PauPau (grandma) would be joined by relatives and friends to play hours of MJ. The round oak dining table in the kitchen would be pushed aside to make way for the official MJ table, which was set up in the middle of the room. That soothing click of the tiles (along with the chatter and laughter of family and friends) lulled me to sleep as they played into the night...

Though there is some degree of enjoyment to be found playing with Mah-Jong tiles in this manner, it just isn't quite the same as the tactile feel of those real deal tiles.

All you chronically addicted MJ players out there - check this crazy thing out.
How's that for novel/fast/easy/convenient?
Yet - somehow, this fancy new contraption isn't as satisfying as manually shuffling (aka 'sai pai' aka 'washing') and setting up the tiles to form the walls...

Call me old-fashioned when I state: Don't fix what ain't broke.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!



AKA 'the Battle Hymn of the Republic'.

You ain't heard nothin' until you've heard this sung A capella by the Abyssinian Baptist Church Sanctuary Choir.
Talk about ROUSING.

For the last two days, I've been listening to their rendition on Ken Burn's 'The Civil War' soundtrack.
On RPT, of course.

A fond memory I have from junior high was singing in the school chorus. Because my voice has never been particularly tuneful, I can only hope that my enthusiasm in participating made up a bit for whatever I lacked in musicality or tone.

No matter.
Chorus was all about group dynamics and feeble attempts by disparate teenage voices to achieve some level of believable harmony. Chorus was also about standing on those cool risers.

Music instructor Mrs. Dobrinen (bless her sweet n' sincere heart) did her best to whip us wannabe singers into some musical shape. She taught us many songs - including several stanzas of 'Battle Hymn', which we ended up singing to student body/staff at a school assembly. Due in large part to our teacher's upbeat, encouraging attitude - our little school chorus always managed to pull it off. We sounded pretty damn gooooood.
At least, we thought so.

Since those humble and awkward musical vocalizations, I've always loved to sing and have an affection for Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! as well as numerous other catchy tunes learned in chorus class...

'What a day this has been, what a rare mood I'm in - why it's - almost like being in love.
There's a smile on my face for the whole human race, why it's- almost like being in love.
All the music of life seems to be - like a bell that is ringing - for me'.

Hearing Glory! Glory! sung so flawlessly by the Abyssinian Baptist choir is absolutely uplifting. Isn't it lovely how music can do that?
By the time the choir arrives at my favourite line - '....be jubilant, my feet' I'm belting it out (at full volume) alongside the Baptist choir.
(as a 12 year old, I was fascinated by the rather unorthodox combination of the words jubilant and feet. I also very much liked 'They have buil-ded' Him an altar..')

Warning: stay out of earshot.
(Or)
Better yet, sing along.
C'mon - let's make a joyful noise. I won't mind you if you don't mind me.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Rinse and soak (please)!


It should be a no-brainer, but...

How to (hand) wash dishes (or) prep them for the automatic dishwasher.

RINSE!* food bits off.
SOAK! - especially those with egg yolk on them.

* I often preface the rinse with
WIPE!
Use a paper towel to wipe up the grease/remaining sauce in a pan/plate before even taking it to the sink for the rinse. Toss the paper towel into the kitchen trash. Saves on rinsing water and all that goopy food residue going down the drain. Then soak.

Performing all of the above beforehand makes for such an easier time 'doing' the dishes...

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

SOS - Wardrobe Dilemma!



For (some of us) Middle Aged Mamas (over 40??!!??)(whaddabout over 50?!??!!?) knowing what to - and what not to - wear can be perplexing.

Today's fashions are geared towards the younger set (oooh, was that really me speaking from the older perspective?!) and seem to leave us middle-year gals high n' dry when it comes to pretty, well-fitting choices for our wardrobe.
Clothes we can feel and look GOOD in.
Is it still possible to feel and look GOOD? I think so.

Let's ruminate on this a bit.
Beginning with what not to wear, a determination which is a tad easier to arrive at than what to wear.
Any garment, outfit, print, cut and/or color that somehow does not 'feel right' falls under the category of What Not to Wear. When it comes to my recent clothing choices (the last 10 years or so!), very little feels right anymore.
Should I become the least bit delusional about that, making a selection I think might be mighty fine - all it takes is one glance in the mirror for the jaw-dropping reality check. The image therein too often screams back 'OMG - NO NO NO!'

What to wear?
Pantsuits seem to be the calling card of the mid-aged woman. Available fashions seem to dictate this.
Jeans. Slacks. Capri pants. Palazzos (remember those?).
I've never ever liked wearing pants. They were always either too tight on my waist or hit me in all the wrong places at the tummy/hipline. Length is never right. Moreover, pants often pinch me at the crotch, which is not altogether a big whoop anymore either.
Ahem.

In regard to jeans, I will opt for a pair of loose-fitting Levi's.
For me, jeans are utilitarian, not fashion. Anyway, I like the feel of sliding right outta a pair of loose 501's at the end of a day.

Anecdote: I was traumatized once when sharing a hotel room with a work colleague - as I watched her stuffing her ample self into a pair of too-small stretch Gloria Vanderbilts jeans. Sausage-time Mama!
If I can someday get past that nightmarish image and find a pair of fitted comfy jeans made for over-40's gals, I might consider having two pair: one loose and one fitted.

If pants fit fine in the morning, by mid-day (and after a few glasses of the daily recommended allowance of water for good health) they start to feel snug. By dinnertime, one wonders how those very same pants which fit reasonably well in the morning have gotten so unbelievably uncomfortable.

I much prefer skirts, and they get my vote to solve the bottom half of the wardrobe dilemma.
But what length? What fullness? What type of waistband?
I ain't quite ready to go the full-tilt elastic waist route yet.
Elastic bunches up too much and what is worn as a top has to be 'just right' in order not to look - dumpy.
I may be at the age, but am not yet prime fodder for matronly.

Now what to wear on the legs? Tights? Panty hose? Knee socks?
Tights and panty hose have elastic waists. Knee socks slip down or just look way stupid on women my age.

What style shoes? What height should the heels be? Thick and clompy, high and pointy? Flat? What of boots?
Go for shoes that are styled for comfort or fashion?

Tops - sleeveless (this is getting harder to pull off too, what with flippy flappy upper arms); short cap sleeves (better); three quarter or long sleeves (sometimes too much fabric when hot-flashing).

I like dresses most of all - but what styles compliment this poor olde bod anymore?

Layers?
I cannot abide by dressing in layers. Too much fabric going this way and that to contend with.

Mid-aged women can certainly overkill on Chico's (do they really think wild animal prints become de rigueur once a woman is over 40?!?).

Eileen Fisher = waaaaay too much knit fabric?

Ellen Tracy - a bit too severe? - and just look at all that yardage - much of it tailored and layered.

Coldwater Creek? (what's with all the blazers, anyway?).

J. Jill? (pick and choose a few that have some character?).

Chadwicks? (pretty tame, but maybe that's what I need?)(too tailored?)

Hmmmmmm.
A bit from here and there might be OK.
A little more of it could become too much the wardrobe of a Median-Income-Conservative-(White)Woman-
In-The-Republican-Rural-Suburbs-Goes
-To-Church-On-Sunday-ish.
Which is not a bad thing. It just ain't me.

Aha (lightbulb over the head just blinked on)!
Howza 'bout wearable art? Now that could be FUN...
By artwear, I'm not thinking Blue Fish.

Or...
Perhaps the answer is to move to the tropics and slip into something island-style?
Lightweight sundresses in island floral prints, bare legs, zoris on the feet!

What to do what to do.
Ai ya.
Solving the Wardrobe Dilemma is going to be one major project, awright.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

A little molasses, a bit of mud...


Jimmy Lee Sudduth died last week.
He lived in Alabama for 97 years.
He was a painter.
He played the harmonica.
Was a husband, father, friend.
Loved his dogs - he had many dogs over the years - all named Toto.

People who create art are invariably categorized into a genre, and Sudduth's, for all intent and purposes - was Folk Art.

His medium: homemade paints: mixtures of mud, axle grease, soot, sugar, coffee grounds, molasses, honey, Coca-Cola, sorghum, plants, berries...
In his later years, Sudduth favored acrylic paint.

Choice of application: his fingers.

Jimmy (aka Jimmie) Sudduth has been cranking out paintings (sometimes 6 a day!) for decades, and I was not aware of this artist/ his work today.

Thank goodness for the obits.

Friday, September 07, 2007

Seeing. Listening. LEARNING

Artist rendering from: http://www.tfaoi.com/newsm1/n1m299.htm

The other day, I spent six hours (!) in the Heard Museum, (downtown Phoenix).
Here are just a few of the many many many fascinating things I learned there about Southwestern Indian tribes:

Arizona: so much more than just a desert.

American Indian vs. Native American.

Pueblo and reservation etiquette.

Hopi katsina (seems there is no 'ch' sound in the Hopi language).

Blue corn piki.

Ocotillo fence.

Mesquite.

'Squash blossom' necklace.

Native American symbolism in art/craft.

American Indian boarding schools.

Kit Carson's role in the move of the Navajo to Bosque Redondo.

The importance of storytelling to the American Indian.

B.I.A.

Life is full of new places to go, exciting new things to do, great new people to meet.
Why waste time 'going shopping' when
there are such riches to be acquired by seeing, listening (as well as asking a few questions and exchanging ideas) and LEARNING...

Moved even further up my list of 'Places to visit in this lifetime': NMAI.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Shredder Madness


It's inevitable, isn't it - to get gifted with the occasional super practical item for anniversary or other such celebration (i.e.: Mom gets a toaster instead of pearls for Christmas).

Not altogether a bad thing. Just - well - unromantic.

There have been many a time when I've put Oh-So-Practical gifts at the top of my wish lists.
For example, I requested and received a Shop-Vac for Christmas one year. It's always a bit of a surprise to actually receive one of these useful presents, but in the long run - they outlast some of those other, cuter 'boutique items'.

This year for my birthday, along with the fun, and/or beautiful presents - I was given a set-it-over-top-of-the-trash-can type paper shredder.

Uh.....Well...OK...

I used it for the first time last night.

I was fascinated at how the apparatus grabs the papers into its teeth from the top end, grinding through the sheets with a high or low pitched whine (depending on how thick the paper or how many sheets at a time), finally spitting out the linear rejects from the bottom end. At lightning speed!
Sounds like a horror movie, does it not?

Talk about cheap thrills - I LUV it!
It is high entertainment!
I giddily shredded papers from Ye Olde Filing Cabinet until the shredder overheated and a big plastic garbage bag was full to the bursting. Still, I searched round frantically for more to feed my new, voracious toy...

In my (typical) overzealous way I found out the hard way - that a
hard-working shredder needs a bit of a cool-down break after a particularly strenuous shredding session. Once it is allowed to rest (and ceases emitting smoke), Shredder Madness can continue.

Oh What Fun.

P.S. Brings to mind the scene in 'Jumpin' Jack Flash' where Whoopi's dress gets caught in the BIG paper shredder. Hilarious. I tried, but failed - to find a youtube video...

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Multi-tasking


Sighted earlier this evening:
A man carrying a large bag of groceries in each hand as he headed down the frontage road.

A hot day - still hovering near mid-90ยบ at 7:00 PM.

The guy moseyed along, nowhere near any houses. I could imagine him schlepping those heavy bags quite a bit further towards home, reaching his destination, finally being able to set those weighty heifers down on the kitchen counter and breathing out a mighty 'phew'.

Just another tough day at the office, then off to the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner.

On his unicycle.

Now -
that's stylin'!