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| From photo a day |
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| From photo a day |
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| From photo a day |
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Sickness and snakes
Gee. The title sounds like I might be interested in reptilian medicine. That is hardly the case. I've been sick (I blame Kevin) and the snakes have been dead. I am, in that sense, doing much better than the snakes.
First the snakes. In one day last week clients brought in two injured snakes. Dog attacks. One wasn't dead yet - but it is now. The other was dead on arrival. For some reason, I wasn't part of that discussion, they wanted to know what kind of snake it was. I was handed the plastic, lidded pail.
I know nothing...
except how to make a phone call. I called someone for whom we had a card filed under wildlife.
"Can you describe the snake?" she asked.
I put on my plastic gloves, popped the lid, and pulled the snake out.
"It is a grey-green color with a yellow belly with red spots."
"How big is it?"
Quick! conversion!! "It is about a meter long." (Internal dialog. "Ewwww.")
"We'll send someone over to pick it up."
"OK." Internal comment - "Why did I have to describe it, let alone pick it up, for that?"
The next day there was a message to call back.
"It was an Eastern Brown Snake. Those are very toxic snakes." What kind of dog killed it? he wanted to know. How is the dog?
It was a little terrier. Twelve years old. As far as I knew the dog was fine.
"These snakes have very short fangs so if the dog has a lot of hair that is often enough to protect it."
I called the dog's owner. I told her it was an eastern brown snake. She thought that was interesting since the snake wasn't brown. As it turns out, although they live IN TOWN this dog had killed 3 brown snakes last year!! Yesterday she had looked out and seen the dog shaking something she had found under the mango tree in the back yard.
WE HAVE A MANGO TREE IN THE BACK YARD.
There is nothing much to say about my cold. It is day 8 and I have had enough.
First the snakes. In one day last week clients brought in two injured snakes. Dog attacks. One wasn't dead yet - but it is now. The other was dead on arrival. For some reason, I wasn't part of that discussion, they wanted to know what kind of snake it was. I was handed the plastic, lidded pail.
I know nothing...
except how to make a phone call. I called someone for whom we had a card filed under wildlife.
"Can you describe the snake?" she asked.
I put on my plastic gloves, popped the lid, and pulled the snake out.
"It is a grey-green color with a yellow belly with red spots."
"How big is it?"
Quick! conversion!! "It is about a meter long." (Internal dialog. "Ewwww.")
"We'll send someone over to pick it up."
"OK." Internal comment - "Why did I have to describe it, let alone pick it up, for that?"
The next day there was a message to call back.
"It was an Eastern Brown Snake. Those are very toxic snakes." What kind of dog killed it? he wanted to know. How is the dog?
It was a little terrier. Twelve years old. As far as I knew the dog was fine.
"These snakes have very short fangs so if the dog has a lot of hair that is often enough to protect it."
I called the dog's owner. I told her it was an eastern brown snake. She thought that was interesting since the snake wasn't brown. As it turns out, although they live IN TOWN this dog had killed 3 brown snakes last year!! Yesterday she had looked out and seen the dog shaking something she had found under the mango tree in the back yard.
WE HAVE A MANGO TREE IN THE BACK YARD.
There is nothing much to say about my cold. It is day 8 and I have had enough.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
The Sunday Philosphy Club: An Isabel Dalhousie Mystery
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| From Singles 2009 |
Isabel was amused by the idea that gestures should accompany verbal references. She was intrigued to see devout Catholics cross themselves at the mentions of the BVM - and she liked the acronym BVM itself, which made Mary sound so reassuringly modern and competent, like a CEO or an ICBM, or even a BMW.
Well. I do like that acronym! It was new to me... and since I've found a deficit in Catholicism in Australia I'll help y'all out: Blessed Virgin Mary. (Now, you should cross yourself.)
Isabel Dalhousie is a very wealthy Scottish woman. She attended university, studied philosophy, fell in love with a cad. Now, she putters around doing the crossword puzzle, editing "The Review of Applied Ethics", entertaining her niece Cat, Cat's former boyfriend Jamie (though not together, much to her disappointment), and taking in cultural events around Edinburgh. It is at a concert that she witnesses a young man fall from the upper balcony to his death. Her curiosity and unwavering commitment to living an ethical life (along with a push from the deceased's roommate) lead her to investigate - convinced foul play is afoot.
Maybe if I had studied philosophy I might have appreciated her thoughts, comments, and conflicts. But, I didn't.
In addition, Isabel comes across as a bit of a doddering old lady - well, maybe doddering is extreme. (I'd find a passage as an example but I really want to be finished with this book.) So, if not quite doddering, then worn out, inconsequential, way past her use by date - and SHE'S YOUNGER THAN I AM. Two things: this is no way to endear a character to me and, secondly, who is this man (the author) hanging around with? He is either decades older than I am and only associating with his peers OR he would only consider women in their 20's - maybe 30 - to be bright, vital, and useful in the world.
So, you see I had a bit of a chip on my shoulder about the book to start with. My appreciation for it, however, NOSEDIVED (as hard as that may be to believe) when I read the "climax". This is how you solve a mystery??? ARGHHH.
Finally, I need to say that this book was a gift to me and I do appreciate the thought and feel conflicted about expressing such a negative opinion. I was also given another from this series and I'm actually looking forward to reading it. A quick check on Amazon (to get the photo, actually) supported my thoughts and comments (the book averaged only 3 stars there), but also suggested that other books were better (4 stars). We shall see.
Romantic Advice from Charles Darwin
I heard on NPR this morning (13 Feb) that when Charles Darwin was a young man and trying to decide whether or not to marry he made a list. A pro and con list. And, from the Pro list we have
A wife is better than a dog.
Neither Zelda nor I are sure what to make of this. If, however, you are contemplating matrimony (or the purchase of a dog) we hope it helps.
A wife is better than a dog.
Neither Zelda nor I are sure what to make of this. If, however, you are contemplating matrimony (or the purchase of a dog) we hope it helps.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Bundaberg photos
Photographs from the Mon Repos turtle rookery (green turtles - loggerhead babies in the sand. You'll have to look carefully - there are two) and the Bundaberg Botanic Garden.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Meditation
Zelda is the Cocker Zen Master of Meditation.
I've alluded to her meditating before, I'm sure. You probably thought I was just being absurd. I do that.
But, so does Zelda.
Om.
ETA: It strikes me as very funny seeing a dog with a green button that reads play on her side!
I may be from/on a different planet
I think that now and then. Most recently it occurred during a conversation between Z, S, and R. Me. I was just observing and probably making funny alien faces.
As you might guess around here there are a lot of conversations about the terrible fires that are burning in Victoria. It is very sad and this surreal exchange/blog post is not meant to reflect upon those fires or any fires in any way. It is, however, where the story begins.
Z (not my Z) was in and telling us how her uncle, a firefighter, is in Victoria as a volunteer and how hard that is on him psychologically. This conversation continues as you'd expect reflecting sympathy and sorrow and outrage. Then, Z left.
S then brings up "Ash Wednesday" and "how many were lost then?" and "when I was in school we used to get ashes on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday". And, R is continuing the conversation about fires and "Ash Wednesday". And, I am trying to figure out whether my head will explode.
"Um." I begin. "Um. The ashes on your forehead on Ash Wednesday doesn't have anything to do with fires. Um. Ash Wednesday is a Catholic holiday...it is the first day of lent."
And, much to my surprise - NOBODY knew that.
I guess it shouldn't have surprised me given the way this country plays fast and loose with Mardi Gras. ([French : mardi, Tuesday + gras, fat (from the feasting on Mardi Gras before Lenten fasting).]
(Of course, in all fairness I didn't know what the fire(s) they remember as Ash Wednesday was/were either. I am the alien here.)
By the way, Ash Wednesday is Feb 25th this year. (It moves each year to be 40 days before Easter.) The Australian fire anniversary, I assume, is always on the same day each year: 16 Feb.
As you might guess around here there are a lot of conversations about the terrible fires that are burning in Victoria. It is very sad and this surreal exchange/blog post is not meant to reflect upon those fires or any fires in any way. It is, however, where the story begins.
Z (not my Z) was in and telling us how her uncle, a firefighter, is in Victoria as a volunteer and how hard that is on him psychologically. This conversation continues as you'd expect reflecting sympathy and sorrow and outrage. Then, Z left.
S then brings up "Ash Wednesday" and "how many were lost then?" and "when I was in school we used to get ashes on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday". And, R is continuing the conversation about fires and "Ash Wednesday". And, I am trying to figure out whether my head will explode.
"Um." I begin. "Um. The ashes on your forehead on Ash Wednesday doesn't have anything to do with fires. Um. Ash Wednesday is a Catholic holiday...it is the first day of lent."
And, much to my surprise - NOBODY knew that.
I guess it shouldn't have surprised me given the way this country plays fast and loose with Mardi Gras. ([French : mardi, Tuesday + gras, fat (from the feasting on Mardi Gras before Lenten fasting).]
(Of course, in all fairness I didn't know what the fire(s) they remember as Ash Wednesday was/were either. I am the alien here.)
By the way, Ash Wednesday is Feb 25th this year. (It moves each year to be 40 days before Easter.) The Australian fire anniversary, I assume, is always on the same day each year: 16 Feb.
Kevin. Ned Kelly. Separated at Birth?
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| From Singles 2009 |
It is a disappointment to both of us that we can't point with pride to any felonious forebears. I have a great grandfather who was a philanderer, but that doesn't seem to count here. Like any good Australian, Kevin has embarked on his own legacy of crime, crime, crime. Kevin has specialized (specialised) in vehicular infringements: cruising with nonchalance through once yellow lights (now red) and cavalierly traveling at the speed of sound through the urban landscape. (He has drawn the line at parking in handicap spots. Still holding onto some of that American puritanism. Oh, and he hasn't got the hang of doing all this while under the influence of the Aussie god of Alcohol.) Just before he left for OTB, he spotted a pulse of bright light while preparing to cross the Story Bridge. Could it be? Was this going to mark the moment when he filled his dance card with his final demerit??
As you recall, I stayed home during most of the time Kevin was in NSW. Stayed home, brought the mail in, and STILL didn't recognize the award coming from the State of Queensland. I was looking for something in a nice big, cardboard envelope which would contain the citation - suitable for framing.
But, it was just a little, unremarkable, flimsy white envelope. (Australia has the most unimpressive envelopes in the civilized world, I'm convinced. Not an extra fiber is wasted to create the paper and anything I send to the US needs to have sticky tape applied to all the edges or else they invariably are sliced open in transit.)
So, Kevin's choices:
1. "Do Over" - Take 3 months off from driving (license suspended) at which time the slate would be wiped clean and he'd be free to accrue driving demerits with only $$ at stake, once again.
2. "Good Behavior" - Drive like a deacon (not demon) for the next 12 months adding, at most, one more demerit point during that time. More than one = automatic license suspension for 6 months.
3. "Ned Kelly" -
a. Take the license suspension but continue to drive.
b. Choose the good behavior option but continue to drive like, um, Ned Kelly.
c. Rip the notice into shreds and commission a suit of armor!
I hate to tell you, but Kevin is NO Ned Kelly. He'll be good. I'll be driving for the next 3 months.
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| From Singles 2009 |
P.S. By the way, these are/were our really cool Halloween costumes this year- that nobody got to see.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Just one reason to be glad you aren't married to me
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| From photo a day |
Did you know there's a right way the silverware goes into the drawer?
You did? Hm. I just learned this, though it is unclear whether I'll remember it.
You see, I've learned one more way my brain is wired totally differently than Kevin's - or perhaps the rest of the human race. I guess when y'all (I try to use that conjunction often here. I think it marks me as American rather than Canadian) put the silverware away you put the spoons in the spoon slot and the knives in the knife slot and the forks... well, you know. On the other hand, I match implements. I put the clean spoon in the slot with the rest of the spoons. Usually, we end up with the same result. But, then there are the times, and they may happen more often in our house where we have the bare minimum number of just about everything, where there are no spoons and no knives left in the drawer. So, there are two or occasionally three empty slots. I just start filling the slots. Each get only one kind of utensil but the spoons may have just leaped from their usual slot on the far left to the center or right. This disturbs Kevin's world view. I'm slowly making him crazy. Well, maybe not slowly.
I think I'm just saving brain space. I still don't know the color of each denomination of Australian currency. It isn't necessary. I can read the numbers. (Wait! Is that two reasons?)
Monday, February 09, 2009
Bunda-two
In the morning, after finding that Hungry Jacks does do breakfast in Australia (not that we're recommending that!), we set off for the Botanic Garden. Very lovely garden with several large ponds, lots of big water birds (both black AND white ones), a peaceful Japanese garden, several historic buildings/museums (we skipped every one - they weren't open yet) and a cute little train (ditto.)
Very nice.
This was followed by a drive out of town to the Hummock. This is the highest point and only real hill around Bundaberg and is an inactive volcano. This volcano, we were told, is responsible for the predominance of black rocky beaches in the area and the black rocky land that had to be cleared to create fields for sugar cane. (These rocks were piled into stone walls called Kanaka walls after the "indentured servants" (read slaves) from Melanesia who were induced to clear the fields and build the walls and tend the sugar cane. Yes. Slaves in Australia until 1904 when they were largely deported thanks, not to an emancipation proclamation, but to the "White Australia policy".
Hummock. Funny word.
By ten o'clock our Bundaberg adventure was finished (we opted not to do either of the Bundaberg Rum tours) and we headed south...with a short detour to see the Buderim Ginger Factory in Yandina.
Once again, any phots were shot on film. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
Very nice.
This was followed by a drive out of town to the Hummock. This is the highest point and only real hill around Bundaberg and is an inactive volcano. This volcano, we were told, is responsible for the predominance of black rocky beaches in the area and the black rocky land that had to be cleared to create fields for sugar cane. (These rocks were piled into stone walls called Kanaka walls after the "indentured servants" (read slaves) from Melanesia who were induced to clear the fields and build the walls and tend the sugar cane. Yes. Slaves in Australia until 1904 when they were largely deported thanks, not to an emancipation proclamation, but to the "White Australia policy".
Hummock. Funny word.
By ten o'clock our Bundaberg adventure was finished (we opted not to do either of the Bundaberg Rum tours) and we headed south...with a short detour to see the Buderim Ginger Factory in Yandina.
Once again, any phots were shot on film. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Bund-tastic! Wonder-berg!
Can you tell we had a good time this weekend in Bundaberg? Saturday we drove north (about 4.5 hours) to Bundaberg. We had a date that evening with some as yet unhatched baby turtles!
Mon Repos turtle rookery. One of the largest research facilities studying sea turtles and one of only two rookeries in Australia, the second being in Western Australia. We bought our tickets ($9 - a real bargain!) a week ahead and that meant we were in group 4 of 5. (Lesson here: Call early. Weeks early.) Everyone is told to arrive at the site at 7 PM (Bring rain gear. Bring bug spray. Bring camera. Bring torches (flashlights). Bring a pillow to sit on. (I added the last.)) and as the evening unfolds one group (of 60) at a time is escorted onto the beach. The first group was called right at 7, the second group soon after and I thought we'd have an early night. Then, there was a big pause.
I think I need to back up. Anytime something happens on the beach - a mama turtle comes in from the ocean to lay eggs or a nest of babies begins erupting from the sand - the next group of viewers is called out to observe. It used to be really informal. People would just show up at the beach and follow the scientists around. Then, about 8 years ago the crowd sized topped 2,500 and the majority of turtle-mamas were scared back into the surf without laying their eggs. While I'm sure there was a big voice for just cutting the public out of the picture, the idea of crowd control and public education won out. Now, a limited number of tickets are sold (it must be about 350) and smallish groups are led down one by one to view an event. At this time of year most of the females have stopped laying eggs: only one or two a night show up and that seems to happen after 3 AM. Instead, the babies that have been incubating for about 8 weeks emerge from their buried nests and rush off to begin their lives in the sea.
Turtle facts:
a. Nesting at Mon Repos: the Australian Flatback Turtle (only found in Australia), the Green Turtle, and the Loggerhead Turtle.
b. Turtle gender is determined by incubation temperature with the critical point being 28.75C (I believe.) Warmer temperatures produce female turtles. Cooler temps, males. (I learned this in grad school. Obviously a worthwhile way to spend 4 years!) The darker sand at Mon Repos is warmer and mostly females are hatching. Eggs laid on the white beaches of the islands off the coast remain cooler thus producing male turtles.
c. Each female loggerhead lays about 200 eggs at each visit and she will lay 5 to 6 clutches at 3 week intervals: about 1,000 eggs/season. She doesn't lay eggs every year or even every other year. It seems to be pretty random with gaps of up to 10 years between egg production years.
d. Number of turtles reaching adulthood per egg hatched: about 1 in 1,000!
e. Lifespan of a sea turtle - excluding the 999 that never reach adulthood - not known though estimated to be 400 to 500 years!
After busting our buts on concrete seats in the amphitheater for more than 3 hours, we were called out to the beach! No lights. No camera flash. No phones. No games. While I would never say it was "bright" on the beach, the moon was mostly full and the sky was clear. (Kevin had already found Orion and, maybe, the Southern Cross during our wait.) We were going to get to observe the release of green turtles that had hatched earlier and had been taken back to the lab for measuring and cataloging. (Green turtles and Flatback turtles are special and all their nests get studied. Only a portion of the loggerhead nests get studied.) There they were in a green plastic bucket trying their best to swim or climb out!
Three guides/researchers pulled out a couple of turtles each and walked among the crowd so we could photograph and touch the babies. I KNEW my digital camera would NEVER produce anything like a reasonable image - flash = whiteout - so I brought my 35 mm camera. Unfortunately, it is getting a bit cranky. Just because you push the shutter-release button doesn't mean that an exposure will be made. Also, I haven't actually tried to take a photo of something small and close with the flash. I have no idea how it will work. This is the problem with film. (I did refrain from looking at the back of my camera after each photograph. I am getting somewhat smarter.) If there is anything to share, I will. Later.
Once we'd all been introduced to the turtlettes, then everyone who had a light lined up one behind the next with their legs spread. They each shined their flashlight at the ground between the legs of the person in front of them creating a tunnel of light leading from the nest site to the ocean. Then, the bucket was tipped
and a hundred baby turtles went flapping at full speed down the beach
and into the surf.
WOW.
Too cool.
And, way too dark for a photo.
Photo: Turtle photographed when we were snorkling in Hawaii. One of our trip highlights!
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Animation entertainment
I've had a bit of a "drawn" week - if you exclude my regular hits of "Battlestar Galactica" - but that's more like having a virus. Anyway, this week we finished Season 2 of "Frisky Dingo" and last night, while Kevin was out, I watched "Bolt".
Hmmmm.... not only animated, but sort of doggy. Sort of. Though,there really are no dogs in "Frisky Dingo" - just a big, white cloven footed alien supervillan, Killface. Very funny albeit heavy on violence. And, easy to watch. Each episode - produced for Comedy Central's Adult Swim - is only about 10 min long. "Frisky Dingo" was one of Kevin's Christmas presents, because I learned about the program in someone's best of 2008 lists. Thus spawned our interest and devotion.
"Bolt". So far, I've enjoyed "Bolt" more than any other (of the two) films I've seen this year ("Slum Dog Millionaire" and "The Wrestler"). I'm a sucker for a dog story and despite the title, "Slum Dog Millionaire" has NO dog. (It's better that I tell you now. In fact, despite what you'll read in every description, I say it is NOT a rags to riches story.) Like other Disney animation, "Bolt" is contrived to pull heartstrings and despite being a grumpy old woman these days and expecting the film to be manipulative in this way, it succeeded. And, that's why it gets my number one vote. Neither of the other two films succeeded in emotionally engaging me. I was repelled by the horrors and abuse suffered in "SDM" but not much warmed by the love story. My interest in and attachment to Mickey Rourke's character was more intellectual than deeply emotional. (Mickey's performance was superb.) All three movies followed predictable paths but only one made me laugh out loud and get misty eyed.
"Bolt" also impressed by the attention to detail displayed by the creators. The pigeons moved like pigeons....and I've watched a lot of pigeons very carefully. Like the vultures in "The Jungle Book" they provide a nice bit of comic relief. I'm not sure why they seem to travel in threes - though the Hollywood pigeons were only SUPPOSED to be a pair, but the assistant, well, you'll find out. Back to detail. I about stood up and applauded when Bolt and Mittens tumble from the train (I think it was) into an Ohio field amongst Queen Anne's lace. One of my favorite wild flowers and so, so typical of ditches and fallow land in the midsummer in Ohio. (I had to turn to google to find a photo. How lame.)
Hmmmm.... not only animated, but sort of doggy. Sort of. Though,there really are no dogs in "Frisky Dingo" - just a big, white cloven footed alien supervillan, Killface. Very funny albeit heavy on violence. And, easy to watch. Each episode - produced for Comedy Central's Adult Swim - is only about 10 min long. "Frisky Dingo" was one of Kevin's Christmas presents, because I learned about the program in someone's best of 2008 lists. Thus spawned our interest and devotion.
"Bolt". So far, I've enjoyed "Bolt" more than any other (of the two) films I've seen this year ("Slum Dog Millionaire" and "The Wrestler"). I'm a sucker for a dog story and despite the title, "Slum Dog Millionaire" has NO dog. (It's better that I tell you now. In fact, despite what you'll read in every description, I say it is NOT a rags to riches story.) Like other Disney animation, "Bolt" is contrived to pull heartstrings and despite being a grumpy old woman these days and expecting the film to be manipulative in this way, it succeeded. And, that's why it gets my number one vote. Neither of the other two films succeeded in emotionally engaging me. I was repelled by the horrors and abuse suffered in "SDM" but not much warmed by the love story. My interest in and attachment to Mickey Rourke's character was more intellectual than deeply emotional. (Mickey's performance was superb.) All three movies followed predictable paths but only one made me laugh out loud and get misty eyed.
"Bolt" also impressed by the attention to detail displayed by the creators. The pigeons moved like pigeons....and I've watched a lot of pigeons very carefully. Like the vultures in "The Jungle Book" they provide a nice bit of comic relief. I'm not sure why they seem to travel in threes - though the Hollywood pigeons were only SUPPOSED to be a pair, but the assistant, well, you'll find out. Back to detail. I about stood up and applauded when Bolt and Mittens tumble from the train (I think it was) into an Ohio field amongst Queen Anne's lace. One of my favorite wild flowers and so, so typical of ditches and fallow land in the midsummer in Ohio. (I had to turn to google to find a photo. How lame.)
Friday, February 06, 2009
Beyond Bad: The Life and Crimes of Katherine Knight, Australia's Hannibal
What more can be said?
This book was jarring. Not so much because of the nature of the crime: it wasn't enough for Kat to stab her man (37 times) - nor stab him then skin him - but stab, skin, decapitate, and cook parts of him. What bothered me more was the way the author combined an air of excessive sophistication (who calls the door frame of a working class home an architrave? Every Australian?? John???) with the down-home informality of Australian speech (I reckon; he reckons; she reckons; we ALL reckon) and a liberal (read this as insufficiently edited) dosing of direct quotes from friends, neighbors, family. (Ala "I said to him, I said ...") I was not impressed.
Will I ever be happy with anyone not James Lee Burke?
This book was jarring. Not so much because of the nature of the crime: it wasn't enough for Kat to stab her man (37 times) - nor stab him then skin him - but stab, skin, decapitate, and cook parts of him. What bothered me more was the way the author combined an air of excessive sophistication (who calls the door frame of a working class home an architrave? Every Australian?? John???) with the down-home informality of Australian speech (I reckon; he reckons; she reckons; we ALL reckon) and a liberal (read this as insufficiently edited) dosing of direct quotes from friends, neighbors, family. (Ala "I said to him, I said ...") I was not impressed.
Will I ever be happy with anyone not James Lee Burke?
Meeting the train
I got home late from work last night. It was after 6:30. Kevin, managed to be even later - catching the 6:37 train and arriving in Carseldine at 7:02. Since I had no ambition with regard to cooking supper, I called for Chinese take away and met Kevin at the train.
As I have embarked on a "photo a day" project (which is harder than it sounds!) and Kevin has grown tired of photos of the sky (which I tell him is always there and I'm enjoying the enormous clouds we've had lately), I took my camera with me. It was growing dark. (Yes. Only half way to the equinox and it is already dark in summer at 7 PM.) My camera doesn't perform well with less than perfect illumination. Still, with the help of Photoshop I think I came up with some interesting images.
I actually did not manipulate the first one: walking up the steps to the train station.
Someone waits for the Brisbane Train on Platform One.
Kevin's train!
As I have embarked on a "photo a day" project (which is harder than it sounds!) and Kevin has grown tired of photos of the sky (which I tell him is always there and I'm enjoying the enormous clouds we've had lately), I took my camera with me. It was growing dark. (Yes. Only half way to the equinox and it is already dark in summer at 7 PM.) My camera doesn't perform well with less than perfect illumination. Still, with the help of Photoshop I think I came up with some interesting images.
I actually did not manipulate the first one: walking up the steps to the train station.
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| From Meeting the train |
Someone waits for the Brisbane Train on Platform One.
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| From Meeting the train |
Kevin's train!
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| From Meeting the train |
Monday, February 02, 2009
Happy Birthday to Z!
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| From photo a day |
February 2, 1997.
That makes 12 years. Pretty funny since I've been saying she's 12 since last February. So, overall, I feel like my favorite girl is younger today.
Year of the Ox
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| From Singles 2009 |
Sunday Kevin and I trained down to Fortitude Valley for the last day of the Chinese New Year celebration. It was a comfortable day - overcast and cool-ish - great if you didn't mind a sprinkle. I looked at the weather forecast, the hourly forecast, before we left and was assured there was a zero percent chance of precipitation. Therefore, we did not take an umbrella. I was highly amused to find that we had to walk to the train station through the rain. Lets see, that would have been about 5 minutes later.
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| From Singles 2009 |
The entertainment was good. A kung-fu school brought out all their pupils for a performance followed by a lion dance. (They might look like dragons, but they are not. Dragons look more like snakes. See last year.) I'm not sure who or what the man and woman figures are. The disadvantage of going to the end of the festivities is that there is no narration. The advantage is there is no introduction of dignitaries and we could get a lot closer to the action. That might also have been a weather related phenomenon.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
More wisdom from Dave and Batist
Batist:
Dave: A response to an officer telling him he thinks he's made a mistake.
I need to remember both of these. How about you?
"It don't do no good to be rich in the graveyard, no."
Dave: A response to an officer telling him he thinks he's made a mistake.
"Maybe we blew this one."
"It's a big club. Thanks for your time, sir."
I need to remember both of these. How about you?
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Dixie City Jam
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| From Singles 2009 |
Dixie City Jam
1 Nazi Submarine - sink it in 1942 and let it marinate at the mouth of the Mississippi River (a)
3 cups Dave Robicheaux
Heaping teaspoon of Clete Purcel (b)
Add three "meatballs": two Italian (Bobo and Max Calucci(c)) and one cancer riddled Irish ex-boxer (Tommy Lonighans (d))
Season liberally with Tennessee Evangelical radio preacher: Reverend Flat(e), NOPD Detective Lucinda Bergeron and her son, Zoot.
Mix in 1 large Jewish chemist, Hippo Bimstein, 1 sexy nun, and a handful of skinhead/Neo-Nazis (If you can find Will Buchalter, you'll get an especially spicy Jam!)
Simmer in the city of New Orleans (f) while an unidentified vigilante removes hearts from black drug dealers. Serve with plenty of alcohol and a bit of zydeco!
a.
Or were they still sailing beneath the waves, their skins pickled in salt, their uniforms nests for moray eels, their plan to turn the earth into a place of concertina wire and guard towers still on track, as certain in prospect as the phosphorescent and boiling wake of a torpedo streaking toward a distant ship silhouetted against an autumnal moon?
b.
"You keep that animal away from me. He's a fucking menace. They ought to put his brain in a jar out at the medical school."
c.
Max and Bobo Calucci: In popular literature their kind are portrayed as twentieth-century Chaucerian buffoons, venial and humorous con men whose greatest moral offense is their mismatched wardrobe, or charismatic representatives of wealthy New York crime families whose palatial compounds are always alive with wedding receptions and garden parties. The familial code of the last group is sawed out of medieval romance, their dalliance with evil of Faustian and tragic proportions.
Maybe they are indeed these things. But the ones I have known, with one or two exceptions, all possessed a single common characteristic that is unforgettable. Their eyes are dead. No, that's not quite correct. There's a light there, like a wet lucifer match flaring behind black glass, but no matter how hard you try to interpret the thought working behind it, you cannot be sure if the person is thinking about taking your life or having his car washed.
d.
"The Tommy Lonighan I remember drowned a guy with a fire hose, Clete."
"So who's perfect?..."
e.
I left him there, a good man out of sync with the world, the era, even the vocabulary of his countrymen. But I doubted if anyone would ever be able to accuse the Reverend Oswald Flat of mediocrity. His kind ended on crosses, forever the excoriated enemies of the obsequious. To him my words of caution bordered on insult and my most reasoned argument had the viability of a moth attempting to mold and shape a flame.
f.
Morning was always the best time to walk in the Quarter. The streets were still deep in shadow, and the water from the previous night's rain leaked from the wood shutters down the pastel sides of the buildings, and you could smell coffee and fresh-baked bread in the small grocery stores and the dank, cool odor of wild spearmint and old brick in the passageways. Every scrolled-iron balcony along the street seemed overgrown with a tangle of potted roses, bougainvillea, azaleas, and flaming hibiscus, and the moment could be so perfect that you felt you had stepped inside an Utrillo painting.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Climbing Mt. Kosciuszko
Monday. Australia Day.
Everyone was packing up to leave early. My flight back to Brisbane wasn't until 5 PM. We had originally thought we'd do some touristy things in Canberra, but then Kevin recognized that we were within spitting distance of Mt. Kosciuszko - the highest point in Australia. We'd been there once before in 2002 when we were driving around the continent. But, it had been late afternoon by the time we arrived and we knew we couldn't make it to the top and back before they turned off the ski lifts that would bring us the rest of the way off the mountain. Somehow, that day I had convinced Kevin to let the dream go.
Obviously, we had to do it this time. We just had to do the 7 km return hike in 4 hours.
I suppose every relationship includes one person who is more cautious than the other. That would be me. I wasn't sure that we could walk 14 km (about 8 1/2 miles) up and down a mountain in 4 hours. I didn't want to miss my flight.
Kevin suggested a deal. I walk fast. I take no photos on the way up.
And, I added, we turn around in 2 hours.
He wouldn't take the add on condition. And, he said I could take photos.
As it turned out, we reached the summit, where a group was flying kites and flags to honor the holiday, BEFORE the 2 hour turn around deadline. And, that included stopping so I could use the highest toilet in Australia!
And, now for the slideshow.
Riding up on the ski lift was really fun- even without swinging or bouncing. Kevin pointed out that if they REALLY want people to ride up quietly, they should make the No Swinging or Bouncing sign look like Swinging and Bouncing are not so much fun. Like, maybe, the swinging/bouncing stick man might fall out of the lift chair? Just an idea.
As we reached the top on our lift ride there was a big gust of wind and my hat blew off. Fortunately, the people behind us witnessed the flying hat and its landing and were able to let us know it was recoverable. THANK YOU.
The walkway was pretty fabulous. Wide enough for us to walk side by side. That doesn't happen on your average Australian footpath (sidewalk).
Flies. I thank god they were happy on my hat and left my face alone.
Everyone was packing up to leave early. My flight back to Brisbane wasn't until 5 PM. We had originally thought we'd do some touristy things in Canberra, but then Kevin recognized that we were within spitting distance of Mt. Kosciuszko - the highest point in Australia. We'd been there once before in 2002 when we were driving around the continent. But, it had been late afternoon by the time we arrived and we knew we couldn't make it to the top and back before they turned off the ski lifts that would bring us the rest of the way off the mountain. Somehow, that day I had convinced Kevin to let the dream go.
Obviously, we had to do it this time. We just had to do the 7 km return hike in 4 hours.
I suppose every relationship includes one person who is more cautious than the other. That would be me. I wasn't sure that we could walk 14 km (about 8 1/2 miles) up and down a mountain in 4 hours. I didn't want to miss my flight.
Kevin suggested a deal. I walk fast. I take no photos on the way up.
And, I added, we turn around in 2 hours.
He wouldn't take the add on condition. And, he said I could take photos.
As it turned out, we reached the summit, where a group was flying kites and flags to honor the holiday, BEFORE the 2 hour turn around deadline. And, that included stopping so I could use the highest toilet in Australia!
And, now for the slideshow.
Riding up on the ski lift was really fun- even without swinging or bouncing. Kevin pointed out that if they REALLY want people to ride up quietly, they should make the No Swinging or Bouncing sign look like Swinging and Bouncing are not so much fun. Like, maybe, the swinging/bouncing stick man might fall out of the lift chair? Just an idea.
As we reached the top on our lift ride there was a big gust of wind and my hat blew off. Fortunately, the people behind us witnessed the flying hat and its landing and were able to let us know it was recoverable. THANK YOU.
The walkway was pretty fabulous. Wide enough for us to walk side by side. That doesn't happen on your average Australian footpath (sidewalk).
Flies. I thank god they were happy on my hat and left my face alone.
On The Beach 2009
Friday my alarm went off at 3 AM.
Yes.
I have been getting up earlier, like 5 AM, so I can get something done at home. By the time I'm home from work, I'm too tired to enjoy doing something - anything - except mindlessly stroke the dog while zoning out watching Season 3 of "Battlestar Galactica". (I used to only have energy for Season 2 of "Battlestar". Is this an improvement, I wonder?) And, one day I got up at 4 AM. But, never have I chosen 3 AM.
Anyway, I needed to get up EXTRA EARLY so I could make my flight at 5:30 AM. (Translation: flight at 5:30 AM; must be checked in by 4:30, maybe 4:45; must get to airport by taxi who may or may not arrive on schedule - give self 40 min. That's minimally a 4 AM departure. Add shower. Add breakfast. Add verify packing is complete.)
I flew to Canberra where Kevin picked me up and drove me south about 2.5 hours to a little chalet outside Jindabyne where OTB gaming commenced about a week earlier. Jindabyne. I knew ALL about Jindabyne. I saw the movie!
But, maybe you didn't. Little NSW town in the Snowy Mountains. Big man made lake. Old town underneath water. Dead black woman in the river.
The last part, I think that's optional.
Friday in (well, outside of) Jindabyne on Mt. Crackenback, I took a nap.
Then, performed an uninspired job as Brendon's partner in my favorite game, "Time's Up!".
Sigh.
Saturday we drove back to Canberra to partake in a taste of the 2009 Australian Games Expo/CanCon.
Sunday - Gaming - for real - at the chalet including Tichu and - Battlestar Galactica. (I just can't get away from this! I got to be Gaius and Kevin was Adama. I was President. He was Admiral. And, we were both Cylons. We beat the humans. I think they starved to death.)
Yes.
I have been getting up earlier, like 5 AM, so I can get something done at home. By the time I'm home from work, I'm too tired to enjoy doing something - anything - except mindlessly stroke the dog while zoning out watching Season 3 of "Battlestar Galactica". (I used to only have energy for Season 2 of "Battlestar". Is this an improvement, I wonder?) And, one day I got up at 4 AM. But, never have I chosen 3 AM.
Anyway, I needed to get up EXTRA EARLY so I could make my flight at 5:30 AM. (Translation: flight at 5:30 AM; must be checked in by 4:30, maybe 4:45; must get to airport by taxi who may or may not arrive on schedule - give self 40 min. That's minimally a 4 AM departure. Add shower. Add breakfast. Add verify packing is complete.)
I flew to Canberra where Kevin picked me up and drove me south about 2.5 hours to a little chalet outside Jindabyne where OTB gaming commenced about a week earlier. Jindabyne. I knew ALL about Jindabyne. I saw the movie!
 |
| From photo a day |
But, maybe you didn't. Little NSW town in the Snowy Mountains. Big man made lake. Old town underneath water. Dead black woman in the river.
The last part, I think that's optional.
Friday in (well, outside of) Jindabyne on Mt. Crackenback, I took a nap.
Then, performed an uninspired job as Brendon's partner in my favorite game, "Time's Up!".
Sigh.
Saturday we drove back to Canberra to partake in a taste of the 2009 Australian Games Expo/CanCon.
Sunday - Gaming - for real - at the chalet including Tichu and - Battlestar Galactica. (I just can't get away from this! I got to be Gaius and Kevin was Adama. I was President. He was Admiral. And, we were both Cylons. We beat the humans. I think they starved to death.)
 |
| From photo a day |
Too little, too late
I'm not sure why I persist with this notion that if Kevin were not at home I would live a clean and tidy life, my blog would be updated daily, I would eat 5 servings of fresh vegetables every day, and be an exercising fool. It never happens that way. Never. Instead, I miss Kevin and I gorge on "Battlestar Galactica". The dog doesn't even get walked. I am pathetic.
As you may have guessed Kevin has been gone for the past 2 weeks. (I recognize you've guessed this from the first paragraph and NOT from the 14 new clever blog entries you've just read. I possess a modicum of self-awareness or at least an awareness of my surroundings and, um, the past.) He's been in NSW playing games "On the Beach". This year it was in Jindabyne, so I guess the beach is literally man made with real houses under the waves. He's home now - hence the new entry and the freshly cut grass and the pizza waiting to be baked. The other good news - the car came home with him. The Red Dragon with co-pilot Michael Jackson made the trip - which must have been about 12 + 4 + 2.5 hours long without incident!
I DID get out of the house to have fun once while he was gone. I went to the Cultural Centre - by way of the WRONG train connection - and took in the new exhibits at the Art Museum. Oh, and I bought some groceries and a new tea pot. Below: a glimpse of my weekend as Bachelorette #1. I love the last shot. I don't know the story behind who dropped this on the footpath crossing the Brisbane River - but I'm guessing they had a bit more of a wild time than I did.
As you may have guessed Kevin has been gone for the past 2 weeks. (I recognize you've guessed this from the first paragraph and NOT from the 14 new clever blog entries you've just read. I possess a modicum of self-awareness or at least an awareness of my surroundings and, um, the past.) He's been in NSW playing games "On the Beach". This year it was in Jindabyne, so I guess the beach is literally man made with real houses under the waves. He's home now - hence the new entry and the freshly cut grass and the pizza waiting to be baked. The other good news - the car came home with him. The Red Dragon with co-pilot Michael Jackson made the trip - which must have been about 12 + 4 + 2.5 hours long without incident!
I DID get out of the house to have fun once while he was gone. I went to the Cultural Centre - by way of the WRONG train connection - and took in the new exhibits at the Art Museum. Oh, and I bought some groceries and a new tea pot. Below: a glimpse of my weekend as Bachelorette #1. I love the last shot. I don't know the story behind who dropped this on the footpath crossing the Brisbane River - but I'm guessing they had a bit more of a wild time than I did.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread
 |
| From Singles 2009 |
Clearly, this Thomas E. Dewey -- and a man named John W. Bricker, who was governor of the state of Ohio for crying out loud-- really couldn't stand President Roosevelt. But only Nazis and the dirty little Japs were supposed to hate President Roosevelt. If you were an American and hated President Roosevelt, what did that make you?
(Old? Tired? Defeated? How come, if President Roosevelt was all those things, our side was winning the war? Well, you had to make allowances. After all, the people who said such things were Republicans, and everyone knew Republicans were sort of thick in the head.)
"The Greatest Thing..." follows nine-year-old Morris Bird III as he walks across the East side of Cleveland to visit his friend, Stanley Chaloupka, who moved away before the beginning of the school year. He's accompanied by his baby sister - who he is good enough to pull in his wagon most of the time. (It is a school day and she's threatening to call attention to their truancy if he doesn't do things her way, at least occasionally.) The year is 1944 and natural gas stores are about to erupt.
Thank you for the gift of this book. It was a pleasant read while waiting in LA for my flight to Brisbane. (I am woefully behind on this blogging enterprise.) Morris is a great kid, but I must confess that I was fascinated to learn about such a huge disaster that took place close to my last "home" in the not so distant past. (I can't believe that I had not heard anything about this event. Ever. In Darwin there would be a big museum - and there would be a giant stuffed croc there, too.) Of course, since then I've spent way too much time locating where Morris lived and Stanley and looking at photos of the devastation that was created by the explosion.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Woke up this morning
This song was singing insistently through my head each time I woke up this morning. (That would be both times.) I am not sure why. Maybe I'm homesick. Maybe I need more musical theater in my life. Perhaps it is my subconscious's salute to the inauguration.
Or maybe it is the rhythm.... cha cha cha cha cha cha - mer i ca...very much the same cadence of the scratching going on on the other side of the bed. Maybe this is all Zelda's support of her homeland.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Suggestion for all photographers in Japan
Today, as I do too often, I stopped at the Sushi Train for a bite. It used to be I justified these visits by focusing on the fact that the green tea was FREE. Yep. I might be buying $8 of sushi, but I was SAVING at least $3.20 on tea. Now, they've started charging for the tea: $1. It is still the biggest bargain at Chermside, but free is much more compelling.
Anyway, today on their video screen they were projecting some sort of program about a festival in Japan which involved a lot of drumming by both men and women in shorts. (I don't have any idea what the festival is/was. The soundtrack of the program was turned off in favor of some incessant techno-pop muzak... and even if it hadn't been, it would have most likely been in Japanese. I would have enjoyed hearing the drumming, however.) It didn't take long for me to recognize a fact that every photographer in Japan should learn. Japanese people are not flattered by wide angle lenses.
I'm not sure that any people are. Not me, I'm sure. Maybe those tall Africans who speak the clicking language.
And, now for a bit of Japanese drumming. Kodo. I feel pretty cool because I saw them perform at the American Dance Festival in Durham WAY back when I was a student - the first or second or third time.
Anyway, today on their video screen they were projecting some sort of program about a festival in Japan which involved a lot of drumming by both men and women in shorts. (I don't have any idea what the festival is/was. The soundtrack of the program was turned off in favor of some incessant techno-pop muzak... and even if it hadn't been, it would have most likely been in Japanese. I would have enjoyed hearing the drumming, however.) It didn't take long for me to recognize a fact that every photographer in Japan should learn. Japanese people are not flattered by wide angle lenses.
I'm not sure that any people are. Not me, I'm sure. Maybe those tall Africans who speak the clicking language.
And, now for a bit of Japanese drumming. Kodo. I feel pretty cool because I saw them perform at the American Dance Festival in Durham WAY back when I was a student - the first or second or third time.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Work tales
This week I worked six days. That's because my boss is off whipping the Blue Mountains into shape. It has been exhausting and highlighted by some notable people and events.
Initially, it looked like we were going to have a very slow week. As of Tuesday afternoon (my last 2 doctor day), we had only 1 appointment Wed morning, a couple in the afternoon, a few on Thursday, and nothing Friday afternoon. Wednesday morning did end up with only two appointments, but then things picked up and we pretty much filled every slot.
One of those appointments Wednesday morning was filled Wednesday morning by a phone call. "I can get you in at 9:30." So, in comes a man with his young dog to get both a vaccine and heartworm injection...and in the course of explaining to me why he hasn't been walking the dog lately tells me he's going to kill himself. Oh, and I'm the only person he's told.
What do you do with this? We didn't cover this in vet school.
While my fabulous nurses were bathing the dog (which, by the way for some reason is pronounced bath - ing in Australia...perhaps they lack the verb "bathe"), I called the suicide hotline. I was surprised by how long a person has to wait to get to talk to a person on the suicide hotline. First, you have to listen to a little blurb about the call being recorded and then wait on hold. You don't want to decide to call after you've already swallowed the pills...
I explained to the woman on the other end that my client has just told me he was planning to kill himself and that I am the only one he's told. Perhaps she could tell me about a social agency that might stop by to talk with this man?
"Call the police."
Oh, great. That sounds subtle.
The police tell me they will come out to the clinic to talk with him. They'd take him to the hospital if he didn't seem to be in his right mind. Mental images of yelling, cursing, fists flying. There was absolutely no way it wouldn't be obvious that I was responsible and WHAT WERE WE GOING TO DO WITH HIS DOG?
Fortunately, the police didn't arrive until after he'd left. I told them he'd probably have gone right home since he has his dog.
Now, I'm cautious. Careful that no one leaves the clinic in the evening by herself. I'm waiting for him to show up with an assult rifle to take us out before turning it on himself. The nurses tell me I sound like an American.
Later in the week I had another less dramatic interaction.
Skink (not her real name) was in for her annual visit. Again, I vaccinated her and gave her a proheart injection. I prescribed her a worming table. "That's it. Everything's up to date."
"Everything's up to date in Kansas City," her owner replies.
"It isn't everyday someone comes in quoting Rogers and Hammerstein."
"That's something my dad said. He brought it home from the war. It was an Australian saying." Something about the interaction between the Aussies and the Yanks.
Mentally. "WHAT? AN AUSTRALIAN SAYING?." Out loud. "That's a line from a song from Rogers' and Hammerstein's 'Oklahoma.' 'Everything's up to date in Kansas City. They've gone about as fer as they could go. They've gone and built a sky scraper seven stories high...'"
After he left I ran to Google. "Everything's up to date in Kansas City Australia," I searched. Funny. Can't find any information that supports the idea that this phrase has any relationship with Oz. I found only six hits. I looked at every single one. (By the way, I just repeated it and got 10 pages, so who knows what I actually did!) My favorite was an Australian forum where the writer posted the question/comment that while there were 50 states in the US he could only come up with about 8 songs that had the title of a state or US city in them! He thought that was "so odd". The next few posts added a song or two. Finally, about post 5 was a list of several hundred. I almost fell out of my chair laughing. It went on and on and on and on.
Anyway, one of those songs was, of course, "Cleveland Rocks" which inspired me to go into a bit of a Drew Carey orgy. A bright spot in my week!
Initially, it looked like we were going to have a very slow week. As of Tuesday afternoon (my last 2 doctor day), we had only 1 appointment Wed morning, a couple in the afternoon, a few on Thursday, and nothing Friday afternoon. Wednesday morning did end up with only two appointments, but then things picked up and we pretty much filled every slot.
One of those appointments Wednesday morning was filled Wednesday morning by a phone call. "I can get you in at 9:30." So, in comes a man with his young dog to get both a vaccine and heartworm injection...and in the course of explaining to me why he hasn't been walking the dog lately tells me he's going to kill himself. Oh, and I'm the only person he's told.
What do you do with this? We didn't cover this in vet school.
While my fabulous nurses were bathing the dog (which, by the way for some reason is pronounced bath - ing in Australia...perhaps they lack the verb "bathe"), I called the suicide hotline. I was surprised by how long a person has to wait to get to talk to a person on the suicide hotline. First, you have to listen to a little blurb about the call being recorded and then wait on hold. You don't want to decide to call after you've already swallowed the pills...
I explained to the woman on the other end that my client has just told me he was planning to kill himself and that I am the only one he's told. Perhaps she could tell me about a social agency that might stop by to talk with this man?
"Call the police."
Oh, great. That sounds subtle.
The police tell me they will come out to the clinic to talk with him. They'd take him to the hospital if he didn't seem to be in his right mind. Mental images of yelling, cursing, fists flying. There was absolutely no way it wouldn't be obvious that I was responsible and WHAT WERE WE GOING TO DO WITH HIS DOG?
Fortunately, the police didn't arrive until after he'd left. I told them he'd probably have gone right home since he has his dog.
Now, I'm cautious. Careful that no one leaves the clinic in the evening by herself. I'm waiting for him to show up with an assult rifle to take us out before turning it on himself. The nurses tell me I sound like an American.
Later in the week I had another less dramatic interaction.
Skink (not her real name) was in for her annual visit. Again, I vaccinated her and gave her a proheart injection. I prescribed her a worming table. "That's it. Everything's up to date."
"Everything's up to date in Kansas City," her owner replies.
"It isn't everyday someone comes in quoting Rogers and Hammerstein."
"That's something my dad said. He brought it home from the war. It was an Australian saying." Something about the interaction between the Aussies and the Yanks.
Mentally. "WHAT? AN AUSTRALIAN SAYING?." Out loud. "That's a line from a song from Rogers' and Hammerstein's 'Oklahoma.' 'Everything's up to date in Kansas City. They've gone about as fer as they could go. They've gone and built a sky scraper seven stories high...'"
After he left I ran to Google. "Everything's up to date in Kansas City Australia," I searched. Funny. Can't find any information that supports the idea that this phrase has any relationship with Oz. I found only six hits. I looked at every single one. (By the way, I just repeated it and got 10 pages, so who knows what I actually did!) My favorite was an Australian forum where the writer posted the question/comment that while there were 50 states in the US he could only come up with about 8 songs that had the title of a state or US city in them! He thought that was "so odd". The next few posts added a song or two. Finally, about post 5 was a list of several hundred. I almost fell out of my chair laughing. It went on and on and on and on.
Anyway, one of those songs was, of course, "Cleveland Rocks" which inspired me to go into a bit of a Drew Carey orgy. A bright spot in my week!
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Year in Review
I know I said I had written the last of my Christmas posts. What can I say? I think I fibbed. A little. I hadn't yet posted my Christmas card/letter - though miraculously, it did get written prior to The Day.
Now, if you live in Australia, this (above) is what your card (would have looked like). I ran into a bit of a problem. I actually got the card ready to print before I left on the 5th and was feeling a little foolish about mailing them out so early. "What?" you ask. "I didn't get a card." Well, Virginia. Really no one on my Australia list got a card. Kevin's computer died and all hopes of printing were ended. I'm still thinking I might go ahead. You folks in Australia have probably never received a holiday greeting on Ground Hogs Day, before. Time to welcome you into the fold. (Plus, I bought the stamps in November!) (WHOA! How funny. That blank space is EXACTLY what your card looked like, isn't it? Kevin's computer just quit again!)
If you live in the US, you should have received one of the above cards. If you didn't, I apologize. Consider this post your card. And, you get all four photos!
If you live anywhere else, I am sorry to say I never really considered your card. If you live somewhere that Christmas is warm, you might prefer the snowy scene. Or, maybe you like the idea of an Australian scene, since it is coming from a "sort of" Australian.
Regardless of your residence, I wish each and every one joy and peace in the new year.
And, now an extra for web card recipients. While looking over the movies I'd watched last year, I remembered that while the movie "Dan in Real Life" was pretty predictable, it did have a great "talent show". Dan (Steve Carroll) is accompanying his brother who is singing a song to the woman they are both in love with...though only Dan and the woman know this. I thought it was moving. I've always liked the song, but wondered why I should let Milo open the door. Who is this Milo?
Now, if you live in Australia, this (above) is what your card (would have looked like). I ran into a bit of a problem. I actually got the card ready to print before I left on the 5th and was feeling a little foolish about mailing them out so early. "What?" you ask. "I didn't get a card." Well, Virginia. Really no one on my Australia list got a card. Kevin's computer died and all hopes of printing were ended. I'm still thinking I might go ahead. You folks in Australia have probably never received a holiday greeting on Ground Hogs Day, before. Time to welcome you into the fold. (Plus, I bought the stamps in November!) (WHOA! How funny. That blank space is EXACTLY what your card looked like, isn't it? Kevin's computer just quit again!)
If you live in the US, you should have received one of the above cards. If you didn't, I apologize. Consider this post your card. And, you get all four photos!
If you live anywhere else, I am sorry to say I never really considered your card. If you live somewhere that Christmas is warm, you might prefer the snowy scene. Or, maybe you like the idea of an Australian scene, since it is coming from a "sort of" Australian.
Regardless of your residence, I wish each and every one joy and peace in the new year.
Happy Holidays,
I am having the best Christmas season! I was lucky enough to get 3 weeks off so I could “go home” for the holidays! I am so thankful! As it turns out, I’ve been pretty much Versailles-bound between the icy weather and having no car. Today is the first day (20th) since I arrived (5th) that I have been allowed to take the car. Two weeks. That is the amount of time my mother has determined is required to pass to flush out that crazy Australian driving out of my system. (It didn’t help me that I kept grabbing on to the dashboard and crying out “You’re driving on the wrong side of the road!!!”)
We were granted permanent residency status in June. That means our stay in Au is no longer tied to Kevin’s employer and we have passed a big hurdle on the way to citizenship (dual citizenship.) This made Kevin very happy.
Highlights of the year 2008. (I need to remind you of the year. Not because you are old but because I am not known for sending out timely cards.)
--Travel: I finally made it to Darwin! Darwin, as a city, sells itself by its history of destruction: bombed in WWII ala Pearl Harbor then flattened in the 1970’s by Cyclone Tracy. That, and it is full of things that will kill you: crocodiles, box jelly fish, blue ringed octopi. We spent a day on a tour seeing nature: birds and crocodiles in the swampy Fogg Dam wetlands, termite mounds, waterfalls, croc-free and croc-full water holes at Litchfield Park and taking The Jumping Crocodile Cruise! Sure, it was cheesy.
--GOMA. We ended our Christmas season last year with a Boxing Day visit to the Andy Warhol exhibit - our Warholiday - and returned several times throughout the year. The current collection is fabulous with a giant woman in a giant bed, a cardboard box rainbow (but without color- so maybe it is just an arch), a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful Michael Jackson salute and white fake fur forest (very Christmas-y).
--The US election. We really enjoyed the election. Living in Au, we were able to control how saturated our life was with political campaigning. Big salute to Sarah Palin and Tina Fey who kept us laughing week after week. And, for a change, Zelda supported our choice for president. Sarah made a play for the Z-vote by letting her hair down in a shameless attempt to look more cocker, but Zelda stuck by her man - black with big ears.
--GAMING. Of course. A lot. Kevin scored another 15 minutes of fame by having his image incorporated as a card in Brisbanite Peter Hawes' new game: “Heads of State” (or, as we like to call it, “The Bishop Game”.) Kevin's card- let's see if you can guess - that's right, is the bishop and he's featured prominently on the game box lid.
--Zombie News. We spent a good amount of time planning our approach to an upcoming zombie apocalypse. Kevin insists Zelda has to make it on her own. I don't think that will play well. In addition, Kevin scored a guest appearance as a zombie in the comic book “The Walking Dead” (Issue 53). And, he rounded out the year by doing an interview with a reporter from Ohio Univ. regarding his film “Night of the Living Bread.” We were amused to find remakes of “NotLB” on YouTube.
--Miraculously, after months – literally months!- of dodgy auto reliability, faulty or at least incomplete repair/analysis, and totally inadequate dog grooming, our car, The Red Dragon, is back in business! We are totally psyched, and thankful that we were forced to move to this new house that is minutes from the train station.
MOVIES: My entire motivation to write this letter is to recommend two fabulous films. Whatever you need to do to see these films, I say, “Do it.”
“As It Is In Heaven” (Swedish). Famous conductor retires to tiny village where he was a boy and becomes the director of the church choir. “Lars and the Real Girl” Lonely, socially backward man starts dating blow-up doll. Remember, Ann says, "Do it."
Also worthy:
--Crime stories: “Eastern Promises” - Russian mob in London. “Chopper” - biography of Australian criminal/artist/philosopher Mark Brandon “Chopper” Read.
--Horror: not one of my usual best film categories but these sing - though only with subtitles. “The Orphanage” a French ghost story. “Let the Right One In” a Swedish vampire tale.
--Visit with an Old Friend: “The X Files: I Want to Believe”. (Kevin was less thrilled, so for him I'll add “Sex and the City”. We have different friends.)
--Sweet stories about friends and love: “Eagle vs. Shark” (New Zealand) “Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day”.
--Guilty pleasure/feel good fun: “Mama Mia” - there I go again!
--Kevin adds: “The Dark Knight” - We had a superhero heavy year, and I'll agree this was the best of the lot. “No Country for Old Men”. We watched this between last year's letter and January 1st, 2008- so it didn't make my list of 2008 films. Kevin is less constrained by arbitrary rules.
BOOKS: My project this year has been to read in order all of James Lee Burke's Dave Robicheaux detective novels. I've read 6 of 18. By far the best: Black Cherry Blues, Morning for Flamingos, & In the Electric Mist with Confederate Dead. (Movie of the last to come out in 2009.) Yes, I recognize I've listed half of the books I've read. So shoot me. I started this project for a reason. I love Burke.
TV: Kevin and I sampled a variety of not so hot shows (“Life on Mars”), so-so series (“The Tick” live action NOT the awful cartoon) and great TV (“The Office”) I'm embarrassed to say some of our favorites are a year out of date! “Dexter” Season 2. “The Shield” Season 6. “The Wire”- WOW. We caught up with Season 4 (which has my favorite version of their theme, “Down in the Hole”) and then watched Season 5. And, then, I went back and watched Season 1. (I was a late convert.) We also made time for old favorites by re-exploring the brilliance of “Arrested Development” and the show that shaped us, “SOAP”.
Finally, our major, #1, best ever, flag-waving, horn-blowing accomplishment: We found a good pizza in Brisbane. Now, there is absolutely no valid excuse not to visit!
And, now an extra for web card recipients. While looking over the movies I'd watched last year, I remembered that while the movie "Dan in Real Life" was pretty predictable, it did have a great "talent show". Dan (Steve Carroll) is accompanying his brother who is singing a song to the woman they are both in love with...though only Dan and the woman know this. I thought it was moving. I've always liked the song, but wondered why I should let Milo open the door. Who is this Milo?
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
This one's for my Dad
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| From Singles 2009 |
Dad, I'm sorry you weren't able to make it down to visit us in Australia. I know you would have enjoyed the way the Aussies do golf down here. The black topped greens (greens???) out west. The flashing, honking, dancing girl target bus at our local driving range. And, I know you would have loved to meet Terry and talk with him about golfing - and golf with him. You would have enjoyed the fresh fish in Broome and the Opera House in Sydney. I can even see you climbing the Harbour Bridge. You would have gone whale watching with us, but mostly because you were a good sport. I'd have taken you to see "The Cricket" and some "Football". You'd have probably figured out all the differences in the various rugbies. We'd probably have had to work out TV reception for you here. I'd have done that for you. And, you'd love Tichu. I'd buy you your own deck and you could introduce it to all the guys at The Eagles. Undoubtedly, Versailles would soon be on the map of "Top Tichu" sites. Really, we've got a lot of good games. You'd be a fan of Mystery Rummy, too. And, Dominion. Maybe, Agricola. You left too soon.
Happy Birthday, Dad. I miss you.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
All things hellish
For Christmas I bought a new pair of very cute pajamas. (Now, admit it. That is not even close to the first sentence you imagined you'd read with a title like "All things hellish".) I bought them and told Kevin they were a gift from him. Anyway, I love them. 100% cotton. Shorts with a button up, short sleeved top. Cute. Very Cute. So cute that I am quick to change into them after work. I figure anyone stopping by (and who would?) might imagine I am wearing a highly coordinated short set.
Anyway, this morning I woke to find the shirt entirely unbuttoned. That can only mean one thing.
Particularly if you take into account that it was last night that we were once again visited by the legion of baby (demon) spiders. (Kevin already wrote that report, though he woefully understated the size of the number that swarmed, literally, swarmed around the window in his study. He says he thinks people will be impressed with us sucking 50 to their doom. "But," I say, "we easily collected more than 50 with one sweep once we discovered where their little party was."
Since Sunday morning things have calmed down. No giant hole direct to hell has opened in our lounge. The number of baby spiders is dwindling, again. And, Kevin is concerned that my blog here may be mis-interpreted. He's argued that I likely unbuttoned my shirt myself in my sleep. He may be right. It is obvious that Kevin can hardly turn over in the bed without waking me. (Though I told him I knew HE hadn't done it.) I am very sensitive to heat and light while sleeping. The buttons, however, were not melted by any burning Beelzebub fingers. There was no lingering odor of brimstone. And, I've had no sudden impulses to consume raw meat. Maybe everything will be alright.
Maybe.
Anyway, this morning I woke to find the shirt entirely unbuttoned. That can only mean one thing.
Particularly if you take into account that it was last night that we were once again visited by the legion of baby (demon) spiders. (Kevin already wrote that report, though he woefully understated the size of the number that swarmed, literally, swarmed around the window in his study. He says he thinks people will be impressed with us sucking 50 to their doom. "But," I say, "we easily collected more than 50 with one sweep once we discovered where their little party was."
Since Sunday morning things have calmed down. No giant hole direct to hell has opened in our lounge. The number of baby spiders is dwindling, again. And, Kevin is concerned that my blog here may be mis-interpreted. He's argued that I likely unbuttoned my shirt myself in my sleep. He may be right. It is obvious that Kevin can hardly turn over in the bed without waking me. (Though I told him I knew HE hadn't done it.) I am very sensitive to heat and light while sleeping. The buttons, however, were not melted by any burning Beelzebub fingers. There was no lingering odor of brimstone. And, I've had no sudden impulses to consume raw meat. Maybe everything will be alright.
Maybe.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Happy New Year!
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| From Christmas/Brisbane |
Kevin and I welcomed in 2009 with a couple of games: Voltage and Scrabble Express. (Actually, I'm pretty sure it wasn't Scrabble Express, but it was pretty much S-E.) Kevin was disappointed that I was his only gaming buddy for New Year's Eve. He was feeling confused - even my cousin Elaine and my friend Susette had gaming lined up for the holiday! Kevin's woe was compounded considering that
1. I have a pretty steady bedtime of 9 PM and
2. I clobbered him at both games. What can I say? I'm a master at Voltage and I was skilled enough to roll the letters to create the veterinarily victorious word "GROWLERS". Bingo! Seven letters! Triple word score!
In general, I've got some big happy thoughts for 2009. I'm going to (eventually) find the camera of my dreams. I'm going to (Feb) see the baby turtles make their way to the ocean. Great things are afoot!
And, I've even been thinking about resolutions. I thought I'd start a photo-a-day project. Then, this morning, I listened to a story on NPR about six folks who've taken a photo a day at 7:15 PM each day. Isn't that cool? But, I think I need to start out more simply ("NNV: In My Eye").
I haven't quite figured out what my resolution is with regard to exercise. I've been thinking I need to add more movement to my life - like something that might make my heart pump harder - but, especially in January in Brisbane, that is likely to also involve sweating... and I don't like to sweat. To sweat. To be sweaty. To be near someone sweaty. To think sweaty thoughts. The additional complication: Zelda. She says she is keen to increase her exercise, too. But, I've seen her plan - walk a lit- wait... sniff sniff sniff sniff sniff sniff... OK, now we'll walk ...hold on, what was that? Here we go- right after I eat the tissue I found. (I did take Zelda to a dog obedience class for a while when we lived in Fayetteville. Week 3, when walking on lead was introduced, she developed a cervical disk problem and we had to drop out. And, ever since, she's got a great argument for why she should be in charge of our joint walks.) At the clinic we've discussed getting a group membership at the gym that's two doors down. They have a pool. Wet sweating.
Finally, 2009 may just be the year I figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
Physics experiment
Probably ya'll knew about this - how hot chocolate creates a unique tympanic condition inside a mug? and how the timber of this tone changes as the spoon cools? You did, right?
My mother only just showed me this in December.
I am so far from being cool.
The last post of Christmas 2009
A collection of Christmas lights from downtown in both my homes. I don't suppose you'll have much trouble differentiating Versailles from Brisbane.
Things to note:
You can easily see the chicken that is stenciled on the street in Versailles. That's not the only chicken stencil. They are all over. Versailles is, as you may recall, the poultry and egg hub of the midwest and home of Poultry Days in June. Each June the chicken stencils get topped up. I'm amazed at how well they've held up this year.
While I think the angels in Brisbane are beautiful, the ones that don't carry banners have the look of young girls waiting to use the restroom. What to do with angel hands? Must be a problem for sculptors. And, is it a sin to photograph up an angel's skirt?
The reindeer are pretty. Too bad they need a barrier to keep them from flying off.
The final lights came from the Christmas evening sky. No help needed.
Christmas with Kevin
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| From Christmas/Brisbane |
I flew back to Brisbane on the 26th. That's not completely accurate. I left the US on the 26th and arrived on the 28th. I lost the 27th, which is our wedding anniversary. So, I figure Kevin has now been married a year longer than I have. At least he's had more anniversaries. (While Kevin acknowledges this as an interesting observation, he tells me "It is going to get pretty old." I think he expects I'll be retelling this story for the rest of our lives. As if.)
The flight was on time. There were extra seats on the plane to Australia so the middle seat was empty next to me. This is all good.
Kevin and Zelda and I enjoyed our little family Christmas. Kevin "teched me out" with a speaker for my computer and my own back-up drive, already backed up. I brought Kevin a metric ton of Reece's peanut butter as well as what EVERY holiday season needs, a light up, screaming Godzilla ornament. (There were shirts, too, and a super-fabulous gift which accidentally got left behind. Really.) Zelda got a new nylabone. She'd lost hers at the Pine's Resort and has been suffering since. And, her own Christmas stocking (from Dixie).
Then, it was back to work for me. Kevin and Zelda are still celebrating through this week. Lucky dogs.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Ohio Christmas- Christmas Eve
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| From Ohio Christmas |
Christmas eve was a beautiful evening. The Ohio gray that had characterized the last three weeks lifted and the sky shown! Sam's hat blew out of their car and when we went out to hunt for it (it was a very windy evening) a red tail hawk flew close over our heads.
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| From Ohio Christmas |
In traditional fashion we had some Christmas beast and, then, to shake things up opened the crackers my mother had purchased. Eight crackers. Each one contained a whistle with a different note and a matching numbered sticker to wear. A genuine chopstick was included to use as a baton as well as sheet music of Christmas carols. Marianna, Sam, and I played two whistles each. My mother conducted. The notes were weak, the tunes imperfect, but we had fun. I'll spare you the audio version of this.
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| From Ohio Christmas |
After watching much of "A Christmas Story" we retired, listening for the sounds of eight tiny reindeer.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Ohio Christmas: Sunday/Monday 21/22
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| From Ohio Christmas |
There is only one word that can be applied to these two days.
FRIGID.
We watched the temperature drop on Sunday until it reached zero. Zero degrees Farenheit. Add on sustained winds and the wind chill Sunday evening was estimated at 25 below.
A good day to stay home and inside.
And, shoot a couple of short videos with my mother.
Later.
Ohio Christmas : Saturday 20th: RAIN!
Each year my mother and my cousin Elaine get season tickets to the theater in Dayton. The first production of this year was the Beatles tribute band, Rain. My mother decided she wasn't too fussed about going, so she gave me her ticket and I went with Elaine.
The production was held in the Victoria Theater. The band, Rain, played live music - dressed ala Johnpaulgeorgeringo with costume changes corresponding to musical eras while 3 projector screens displayed images. These images varied between footage of Beatles crowds going crazy, live images from the audiance or band, news images from the 60s, psychodelic colors/swirls during the latter albums and remakes of Beatles photos and album covers featuring the musicians from Rain.
The juxtaposition of the early crowd videos - teenages screaming, fainting, and climbing barricades with the Saturday matinee crowd was stark. Maybe it was ALL the white hair - and not from any bottle of hydrogen peroxide. The audiance was relatively game and would stand the clap and some dance or sway, but they (we) never matched the fervor of those Beatles fans. And, I wondered how "Rain" felt about that. My mother thinks they'd be thrilled to be earning money, but I've had enough experience with musicians to suspect that they'd always like to see young women throwing themselves at them. (Maybe that happened on Friday evening's performance.)
The concert was fun and I was moved to tears (discreet tears - why was I crying?) by the second song of the show "All My Loving". Maybe I had just been too long away. And, while Marianna had proclaimed that it was "LOUD", I must disagree and state that I thought they could have used some greater energy on their crescendos. These peaks never reached the level of intensity that I thought was needed.
Afterwards, Elaine and I ducked into the Schuster to escape the cold as we traveled to our parking garage. There, they had set up the old Christmas windows from Rikes downtown store...and "Tikes" store. We didn't do any shopping.
Ohio Chirstmas: Friday 19th: Bear's Mill
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| From Ohio Christmas |
Made a trip out to Bear's Mill (between Versailles and Arcanum) to finish my Christmas shopping. I had originally intended to send Versailles wine to my friends in NJ, but when I went to the winery I was told they couldn't ship to NJ ?? and that I couldn't mail wine. I was dubious, but I didn't want a hassle, so I reconsidered and decided to send some of Bear's Mill's products, instead. (I don't know. Maybe it is illegal to ship cornmeal to NJ, too, but no one has told me this. Yet.)
If you haven't been to Bear's Mill it is worth the trip to see the beautiful pottery, pick up some ground grains or pancake mix, and appreciate the Stillwater River. I love to go and it isn't all about my love for eating cornbread. Over the years I've taken some of my favorite photographs around the mill and river. If I have time on New Year's Day, I'll see if I can find the swing. I suspect it is around here somewhere.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
My Christmas video for you
I've missed posting some YouTube favorites for the holidays. This one I picked out before I left Australia. (I really can't do it here as I have no sound on this computer!) In honor of "Born Standing Up" (Steve Martin).
I just haven't been able to keep up here. My failure is the result of a combination of really slow (dial up) internet connection here in Versailles which frustrates me, particularly when it comes to uploading photographs (which I cannot edit here, either) and the absolutely frigid condition of the last few days. This seems to be worse upstairs at the computer. Maybe it is the west window I face. Maybe it is holding my hands out away from my heart. Anyway, I hope to catch up in a few days when I've returned to Brisbane.... though I should acknowledge there I will be plagued by jet lag and WORK.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Ohio Christmas - and today is Thursday (18th)
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| From Ohio Christmas |
Another grey Ohio day. The ice hasn't melted from our driveway and it is still impossible to drive all the way up and into the garage. That's because you have to stop about 6 feet from the door and wait for it to rise. Then, you don't have enough traction to get started again... unless you back up onto the road and start over.
Today we put up the tree.
And, I mailed off 2 more packages of Christmas presents to friends I will not be visiting while I am in the US. I still have two to go.
Ohio Christmas - Wednesday at the food pantry
A quick check on the UPS tracking page revealed that my Shutterfly calendars (Christmas gifts) left Piqua at 9:28 AM. They would/did arrive today!
On Wednesday I helped my mother and the Council of Churches pack and distribute boxes of food for the holidays. After 3 hours I was promoted from standing in the way to sitting and doing nothing. I moved into the church office where I had the important job of answering the phone - it rang once - and calling people who had not shown up to collect their food and gifts. I made two calls. (Lets see, that is 3 short phone events in 2 hours. No wonder I fell asleep on the couch after we got home.)
On a more positive note, though decidedly less altruistic, while waiting for the phone to ring I did take time to pilfer a sheet of paper and scribble an outline of what became my Christmas newsletter.
On Wednesday I helped my mother and the Council of Churches pack and distribute boxes of food for the holidays. After 3 hours I was promoted from standing in the way to sitting and doing nothing. I moved into the church office where I had the important job of answering the phone - it rang once - and calling people who had not shown up to collect their food and gifts. I made two calls. (Lets see, that is 3 short phone events in 2 hours. No wonder I fell asleep on the couch after we got home.)
On a more positive note, though decidedly less altruistic, while waiting for the phone to ring I did take time to pilfer a sheet of paper and scribble an outline of what became my Christmas newsletter.
Ohio Christmas - I can't remember Tuesday
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| From Ohio Christmas |
Tuesday (the 16th) was a very icy day. Fortunately, we didn't need to go anywhere.
Presents were wrapped.
Ohio Christmas - The saga continues
Monday
Once again Kevin, Zelda, and I have our souls boosted by the prayers of first graders and on Monday I had the pleasure of spending an hour with them. I really should have been more prepared. Instead I opted to answer questions which somehow - after everybody told me what kind of pet they had and which ones had been killed by cars - evolved into me telling them how you test an animal for rabies. (You cut off the head and send the head to the state laboratory.) We don't have rabies in Australia so my skill in rabies testing is unused. One little boy - the same one who clamped his koala pencil hugger onto his ear - waited at the door when we were leaving the classroom to ask if I had ever had to cut off a head.
"Yes."
But, only once.
Postscript. I do recognize that you CAN only cut the head off any single animal only one time. What I meant was that, well, you know.
Oh, and I have a very cute photo of all of us, but, alas, it is not digital.
Once again Kevin, Zelda, and I have our souls boosted by the prayers of first graders and on Monday I had the pleasure of spending an hour with them. I really should have been more prepared. Instead I opted to answer questions which somehow - after everybody told me what kind of pet they had and which ones had been killed by cars - evolved into me telling them how you test an animal for rabies. (You cut off the head and send the head to the state laboratory.) We don't have rabies in Australia so my skill in rabies testing is unused. One little boy - the same one who clamped his koala pencil hugger onto his ear - waited at the door when we were leaving the classroom to ask if I had ever had to cut off a head.
"Yes."
But, only once.
Postscript. I do recognize that you CAN only cut the head off any single animal only one time. What I meant was that, well, you know.
Oh, and I have a very cute photo of all of us, but, alas, it is not digital.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Ohio Christmas - Week at a glance
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| From Ohio Christmas |
Christmas shopping. Fairfield Commons.
Day 6 - Wednesday DEC 10
Decking the Halls #1. Unpacking snowmen, Santas, and trees. Put up tree in Foyer and decorate the banister.
Day 7 - Thursday DEC 11
Christmas shopping. Troy. Find super gift for Kev-o at Kohls. Hope batteries are included. Buy tree.
Day 8 - Friday DEC 12
Decking the Halls #2. Complete mantle. Start putting boxes away.
Finish gifts for MEH, Dixie, and Linda. Shhhhh.
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| From Ohio Christmas |
Finish shopping. Piqua. Find gift Kevin doesn't know he needs. Hope air holes will be sufficient for flight. Pleased to be finished with shopping as now we are beginning to look like elves.
Day 10 - Sunday DEC 14
Dinner with MEH. My mother says something about showing her the photos I brought back from Brisbane on the computer.
"No."
"The ones of Zelda on the computer."
"No photos." It was at this point I thought I might have to kick my dear mother under the table. I didn't want to ruin any of the surprise of the photos in the calendar I had just finished making for her.
She caught on before any blood was shed, but I suspect that Auntie now is onto me.
Candle light service. I'm a non-discriminatory candle lighter for religious holidays having practiced with the Buddha's birthday. I'm probably a bit more comfortable with those ceremonies held in Chinese where I cannot understand the celebrant. (Though I do enjoy the Christmas music more - and in this case it was a fine harpist. Unfortunately, Christmas pageants aren't usually accompanied by kung fu boys flying across the stage.)
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Ohio Christmas Day 4 - Monday Dec 8
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| From Ohio Christmas |
It is on Monday that three notable things occur.
I do not take a nap.
I make my first visit to the library to re-establish internet connectivity.
I get a Christmas massage.
One of my gifts from my mother this year was a massage. There is a new massage therapist in town working out of the Sports Medicine Clinic. I arrived early and was led back through the facility- through doors and corridors and more doors into a little white painted room with prominent beams and studs. The environment is minimally decorated with a photograph of the moon and a primitive painting of a church. And, white paint. And, a small portable heater.
"I'm sorry it is so chilly. Take off all your clothes and get under the sheet."
This apology is repeated often. But, neither the apology nor the heater does much to warm the room.
So, in goose bumps I lay under the sheet studying the room and wonder, "Was this the old meat locker?"
"How did you get to be here?" I asked.
He described his job hunt which ended here in Versailles. "Funny story," he said. "This used to be the meat locker. See the holes in the beams. I think that is wear they put the hooks from which they hung the carcases."
I don't know. Maybe I've been away from home too long. This just isn't the environment that I associate with massage. Frigid. Stark. Bright. Meaty.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Ohio Christmas Day 3- Sunday Dec 7
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| From Ohio Christmas |
Jingle. Jingle. Jingle. Ho. Ho. Ho.
Pancake breakfast to benefit the Versailles Council of Churches (with Santa).
Nap.
And, in the evening we drive Santa Dixie to visit her grandchildren.
Dixie bought her Santa costume years ago for the first baby. At that time her husband, Mike, wore it. Now, the baby is a senior in high school and Mike has had enough of Santa. The youngest grandchild is in junior high and all the grandchildren stand back aghast when Santa Grandma comes knocking on the door - telling stories - singing songs - dancing dances.
"Grandma. You were drunk." Zach said later.
It wasn't true, Zach. Your Grandma is all that.
I had a great time as official photographer - missing the critical shots as the digital camera (Dixie's this time) says "You pushed the button? You want a photo? Well, OK." Meanwhile, 2 seconds and THE shot has passed. Still, I must have shot 50 or so. The odds are that something has to be worthy. I've yet to see them.
Ohio Christmas Day 2- Dec 6
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| From Ohio Christmas |
Williamsburg Christmas Dinner. Ft. Loramie. Land of the lit up crucifixes.
Renee, Sam, my mom, Elaine and I met my Auntie, Michael, Uncle Carroll, and Karen. It was a cold!! and blustery and snowy evening. Dinner was fine - turkey - accompanied by carolers.
I come from a difficult family. My mother sings along. Michael and Marianna make faces and debate whether the men are sharp or the soprano is flat. Karen smuggles in martinis with a baggie of olives. And, I run around trying to take a photograph where everyone is properly exposed. (It never really happened.)
After, Sam does doughnuts on Route 66. Three-sixty to the right then to the left...but kept us out of the chasm that is the ditch. Fortunately, we neither met anyone - which was good since we were on both sides of the road - nor did anyone catch us from behind. There were a lot of vocalizations- and they weren't all "wheeeeee".
On the first day of Ohio (Dec 5)
Written on the 7th day. I think this isn't going to go very well!
I boarded the plane in Brisbane - no- wait - the story begins earlier.
At 8:30 PM I called Yellow Taxi to arrange for my pick up for the airport. My flight was scheduled to leave about noon, so I figured (reckoned, in Australian) if I left at 9:15 for a 20 to 30 min drive, I should be right. "No," says the agent on the phone. "That is right at the end of rush hour. We cannot guarantee that our driver will arrive on time and get you to the airport for your flight. 9:00."
"OK," I agree. "Nine o'clock."
"No. Not nine. Eight-thirty."
Reluctantly, I agreed. So much for having "lots" of time in the morning.
As I was washing up the breakfast dishes the next morning I heard this loud engine. Naturally, I thought, "The garbage truck is late. It is 8:10 already."
I should have been thinking, "It is ONLY 8:10." It was my taxi.
"So, the traffic isn't bad," I said to my driver midway. "Is this unusual?"
"No. Not for a Friday morning. There really isn't much of a rush on Friday mornings - people taking 'sickees', long weekends."
It took us 20 minutes to get to the airport. So, I had 3 1/2 hours to spend and Kevin had the dishes to finish.
I got to check in right away (yay) and got an aisle seat (yay, again! I don't have to ask anyone to move to use the toilet.) I was able to complete some of my Christmas shopping at the airport and look at the prices of cameras at the duty free shop. Of course, I haven't done any research to know what I want. But, I scribbled prices down on one of the "dockets" from one of my earlier purchases. Reduce, reuse, recycle.
I had just found my seat when the steward stopped me from getting comfortable telling me that they might need to move me - move the entire row. That was OK. What difference did it make to me if I was in row 41 or 50? Then, the man in the aisle seat leans over and tells me it is his fault. That he needs to be near an electric outlet.
"I need to be hooked up to a breathing machine. I stop breathing when I sleep."
"I don't want to see that!" As Kevin will confirm, it is always about me.
And, so we were moved and it was no big deal. At least not until his machine required additional water in the middle of the "night" and for some reason the way that filling needed to occur was over my sleeping body. Unfortunately, the water didn't all fall into the cup. Some of it fell down my neck.
I screamed.
They gave me a set of QANTAS PJ's.
I boarded the plane in Brisbane - no- wait - the story begins earlier.
At 8:30 PM I called Yellow Taxi to arrange for my pick up for the airport. My flight was scheduled to leave about noon, so I figured (reckoned, in Australian) if I left at 9:15 for a 20 to 30 min drive, I should be right. "No," says the agent on the phone. "That is right at the end of rush hour. We cannot guarantee that our driver will arrive on time and get you to the airport for your flight. 9:00."
"OK," I agree. "Nine o'clock."
"No. Not nine. Eight-thirty."
Reluctantly, I agreed. So much for having "lots" of time in the morning.
As I was washing up the breakfast dishes the next morning I heard this loud engine. Naturally, I thought, "The garbage truck is late. It is 8:10 already."
I should have been thinking, "It is ONLY 8:10." It was my taxi.
"So, the traffic isn't bad," I said to my driver midway. "Is this unusual?"
"No. Not for a Friday morning. There really isn't much of a rush on Friday mornings - people taking 'sickees', long weekends."
It took us 20 minutes to get to the airport. So, I had 3 1/2 hours to spend and Kevin had the dishes to finish.
I got to check in right away (yay) and got an aisle seat (yay, again! I don't have to ask anyone to move to use the toilet.) I was able to complete some of my Christmas shopping at the airport and look at the prices of cameras at the duty free shop. Of course, I haven't done any research to know what I want. But, I scribbled prices down on one of the "dockets" from one of my earlier purchases. Reduce, reuse, recycle.
I had just found my seat when the steward stopped me from getting comfortable telling me that they might need to move me - move the entire row. That was OK. What difference did it make to me if I was in row 41 or 50? Then, the man in the aisle seat leans over and tells me it is his fault. That he needs to be near an electric outlet.
"I need to be hooked up to a breathing machine. I stop breathing when I sleep."
"I don't want to see that!" As Kevin will confirm, it is always about me.
And, so we were moved and it was no big deal. At least not until his machine required additional water in the middle of the "night" and for some reason the way that filling needed to occur was over my sleeping body. Unfortunately, the water didn't all fall into the cup. Some of it fell down my neck.
I screamed.
They gave me a set of QANTAS PJ's.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
I'm Back!
I arrived in Ohio Friday evening. Exhausted.
In less than 3 short days I've slept about 28 hours and spun out on the highway - narrowly avoiding the deep ditch that we in rural Ohio call "the shoulder".
More later. I've been monopolizing the library's computer long enough.
In less than 3 short days I've slept about 28 hours and spun out on the highway - narrowly avoiding the deep ditch that we in rural Ohio call "the shoulder".
More later. I've been monopolizing the library's computer long enough.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Born Standing Up
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| From singles 2 |
In a sense, this book is not an autobiography but a biography, because I am writing about someone I used to know. Yes, these events are true, yet sometimes they seemed to have happened to someone else, and I often felt like a curious onlooker or someone trying to remember a dream. I ignored my stand-up career for twenty-five years, but now, having finished this memoir, I view this time with surprising warmth. One can have, it turns out, an affection for the war years.
I finished "Born Standing Up" just before leaving Brisbane. It was an interesting read and I was humbled by seeing someone else's determination, ambition, and work.
Through the years, I have learned there is no harm in charging oneself up with delusions between moments of valid inspiration.
In "Born" Steve Martin describes his origin- the family he was born to, the amusement parks where he got his first taste of "show biz", and life on the road. It obviously is not easy getting or being famous. Fame was never an ambition of mine and perhaps that is why Kevin liked the book more than I did.
I had a long routine (for me) in which I confessed to weird sexual fetish, "I like to wear men's underwear."
My favorite bits, I must admit, were when he tossed in a line from his act. I'd feel a bit shallow or guilty except that this is my nostalgia. As you can see from the photo up top, we were products of the Steve Marin phenomenon.
I'm so mad at my mother, she's a hundred and two years old, and she called me the other day. She wanted to borrow ten dollars for some food! I said, 'Hey, I work for a living'"
The book did, however, provide an excellent closer for any entry.
And my closer, "Well, we've had a good time tonight, considering we're all going to die someday."
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