Huckleberries are a real thing, a completely nonfictional thing, and they are ripe now. When Smiley pointed them out I was very surprised. I mean, they are tiny, and bright red, and they don't look anything like the segmented raspberry and blackberry varieties proliferating in gardens and along roadsides. The small leaves remind me of those on rosebushes. The fruit is just smaller than a blueberry, and it has that same ruffle of a skirt on the flower end. They are juicy and not overly sweet. And the bushes have no thorns.
My daughter has unexpectedly gotten excited about berry picking. She came over and brought some that she'd collected. She got me to go across the street and pick some. After she left, she called to tell me she found a spot where she was able to pick a whole plastic water bottle full of them. -The pint sized water bottle choice is genius, berries fit through the neck easily, and if you drop the bottle they won't all spill out.
Berrying is just like a video game. In between slaying dragons and shooting at spaceships, you pause to pick up brightly colored trophies. These can be traded for ballistic missiles and fancy costumes, or just eaten to raise your health statistics. Each berry that I pick makes an imaginary PING sound as it separates from the bush and lands in the bucket.
This morning, Smiley and went out to get more, before the short season ends. At home, I used them to make a raw cobbler with an almond date crust. Yesterday,Maddy picked a water bottle full, and today, I filled up a hummus container.
Showing posts with label PrissKids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PrissKids. Show all posts
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Friday, May 21, 2010
Maddy Rations
Get me bagels. But not blueberry. Any kind of bagels but blueberry.
I think that you should make me a shopping list of what you would like to eat.
And it needs a graphic symbol. A picture of a bagel in a circle with a red line through it. And don't forget to draw little blue dots.
I think that you should make me a shopping list of what you would like to eat.
And it needs a graphic symbol. A picture of a bagel in a circle with a red line through it. And don't forget to draw little blue dots.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Charoset
I have my daughter mincing apples. She keeps stopping to ask if the pieces are small enough yet. It takes a long time to mince the ingredients enough.
Will I have to do this again?
Yes, every year. Also tomorrow.
I have to do this tomorrow?
Don't worry, it will get easier after you learn to use the food processor.
I could have used the food processor??? Why didn't you tell me that?
You need to have the complete charoset-making experience, grasshopper.
Haven't you seen that show?
Is that from a show? What show is it from?
The Green Grasshopper Hour.
Will I have to do this again?
Yes, every year. Also tomorrow.
I have to do this tomorrow?
Don't worry, it will get easier after you learn to use the food processor.
I could have used the food processor??? Why didn't you tell me that?
You need to have the complete charoset-making experience, grasshopper.
Haven't you seen that show?
Is that from a show? What show is it from?
The Green Grasshopper Hour.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Yo-yo, walking the dog
A pug beagle mix is the newest adventure in my life. After a few May and June mini-hikes on weekends, I wanted to add more exercise the rest of the week. Tuesday night, Maddy's boyfriend Jiff came over. I fed the two teens hot dogs, and we watched "Notting Hill", a bland romantic comedy. Jiff's mom has a dog that doesn't get to go for walks very often, and suddenly, despite my complete inexperience with canines, I felt an inspiration: I could walk Hilda's dog!
Hilda was surprised that i wanted to, and was happy to have it done, yet irritated that it would involve answering the door early in the morning. I took Jiff along in case I needed a technical consult, and my daughter Maddy accompanied us to make sure that we didn't talk about her. (As if the two people who know her best could have anything more to discover.)
When we arrived, Hilda didn't clip the leash on all of the way, and Sophie-Pup escaped between our legs and out of the front door. Jiff raced after her, but he slipped and skinned his arm on the driveway, allowing her a head start that took three blocks to overcome. Maddy and I met him halfway as he was carrying her back, and he clipped the leash on, then handed her over to me. We walked a scant mile, and it all went well, despite her almost constant muscular pulling and testing. A very short length seemed to work best, with occasional pauses to calm down before continuing. -- Maddy was horrified by the pooper scooping obligation.
Thursday and Friday I tackled it on my own. Walked farther, and faster, and talked to other ladies with pooches in the park. Today I got to see duckings, and a graceful blue heron. Sohie-Pup wanted to swim out to them, but I didn't allow it.
Hilda was surprised that i wanted to, and was happy to have it done, yet irritated that it would involve answering the door early in the morning. I took Jiff along in case I needed a technical consult, and my daughter Maddy accompanied us to make sure that we didn't talk about her. (As if the two people who know her best could have anything more to discover.)
When we arrived, Hilda didn't clip the leash on all of the way, and Sophie-Pup escaped between our legs and out of the front door. Jiff raced after her, but he slipped and skinned his arm on the driveway, allowing her a head start that took three blocks to overcome. Maddy and I met him halfway as he was carrying her back, and he clipped the leash on, then handed her over to me. We walked a scant mile, and it all went well, despite her almost constant muscular pulling and testing. A very short length seemed to work best, with occasional pauses to calm down before continuing. -- Maddy was horrified by the pooper scooping obligation.
Thursday and Friday I tackled it on my own. Walked farther, and faster, and talked to other ladies with pooches in the park. Today I got to see duckings, and a graceful blue heron. Sohie-Pup wanted to swim out to them, but I didn't allow it.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Water in, In Water
The homeowner association rules state that while in the pool area one must "bring a nonalcoholic drink in a plastic container." Now usually I flaunt this, preferring to wait until later in my own dining room to attend to re-hydration needs, But the weather was warm today, so I brought an 8 ounce container of eau municipale along with my Liz Claiborne hat, and my goggles. There were a handful of kids in the pool throwing around beach balls, and they politely moved over a bit to accommodate my mini lap swimming. On one corner of the deck some non-aquatic types blabbed away in deck chairs. One of them found the need to chain smoke.
I didn't stick around much after swimming. It wasn't only the smoke, there was this alarming brightness everywhere. My hat and the Aveeno non-oily sunblock on my nose were no match for the ionizing radiation. When I got back, I mentioned the smoker to the PrissKids.
Zbigniew said, "You should have whipped out a one hundred page book and pointed to the rule."
I responded with more theoretics, "Here is my non-alcoholic drink in a plastic container. Where's yours? And put out that cigarette!"
I didn't stick around much after swimming. It wasn't only the smoke, there was this alarming brightness everywhere. My hat and the Aveeno non-oily sunblock on my nose were no match for the ionizing radiation. When I got back, I mentioned the smoker to the PrissKids.
Zbigniew said, "You should have whipped out a one hundred page book and pointed to the rule."
I responded with more theoretics, "Here is my non-alcoholic drink in a plastic container. Where's yours? And put out that cigarette!"
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
He did it!
A major milestone for my eldest tonight. Beautiful ceremony, and I only cried a little bit. My daughter was there too, to cheer him on. Now it is midnight. They are sleeping like the babies that they used to be.
Media Reality
Poignant article on the whole mother daughter dynamic. If any of you guys read it, comments here would be great. What it made me think about is that our lives aren't going to be idyllically perfect. Family life is stressful. That's why so many people who are financially able to live alone, end up doing so. (Then some of them bemoan their lack of a partner.)
The Zbigster is graduating from High School today, and Maddy is trying to get out of attending based on her homework and dance rehearsal obligations. Empty nesting is just around the corner here in Prisstopia.
The Zbigster is graduating from High School today, and Maddy is trying to get out of attending based on her homework and dance rehearsal obligations. Empty nesting is just around the corner here in Prisstopia.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Gyrations
I went to see a modern dance performance today. All I knew beforehand, was that my daughter’s friend was in it. It was an end of the year recital by 7 to 15 year olds. They all participate in the choreography, and the work was quite advanced. I thought about how much communication there is in gesture as they were able to transmit mood. Some of the dance steps were straight out of yoga class, and they used muscle to lift each other. Facial expressions were a big part of the storytelling as well.
It was a mother-daughter day, my son having demurred at the balletic excursion, and we also went to a vegetarian restaurant to hang out with some raw fooders. I traded lists of smoothie ingredients with a few people. One guy said that he feels an energy rush every time he drinks coconut water. Sometimes pineapple does the same thing to me.
On the way home, we stopped for produce at the Jedi market. I bought a cactus leaf, which has now been shredded in the cuisinart, and mixed with cilantro, onion, lime juice, tomato, and mexican spices.
We did quite a bit of walking too. I feel tired, but also, really good.
It was a mother-daughter day, my son having demurred at the balletic excursion, and we also went to a vegetarian restaurant to hang out with some raw fooders. I traded lists of smoothie ingredients with a few people. One guy said that he feels an energy rush every time he drinks coconut water. Sometimes pineapple does the same thing to me.
On the way home, we stopped for produce at the Jedi market. I bought a cactus leaf, which has now been shredded in the cuisinart, and mixed with cilantro, onion, lime juice, tomato, and mexican spices.
We did quite a bit of walking too. I feel tired, but also, really good.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
MinHaggadah - Passover Shopping
I told my daughter that I was going to buy some holiday groceries. She asked me what I was going to get. I already had apples, but we still needed the horseradish and more eggs. There was also the matter of the matzah.
"Don't we also need to get an orange?"
"If you say that we need an orange, then I will get an orange."
"But don't we NEED an orange."
"If an orange is part of your minhag, then we should have one."
She tried the phrase "supposed to" on me, but that didn't specifically apply either.
So, about the orange:
The seder plate includes five symbolic foods, although the seder is based around three symbolic foods including the unleavened bread which is not even one of the five on the plate. A Venn diagram might be useful here. Israeli seder plates include a space for a fresh green in addition to the mild parsley and the bitter horseradish. This is usually lettuce, and my haggadah does not mention any symbolism for it. An orange is not among the five.
There is a very modern story, probably originating in our lifetimes, and in my opinion, like an earlier one about George Washington and the cherry tree, quite likely after the fact, about the passover orange. Today there are many female rabbis, but this is a phenomenon of the last half century. Before that, rabbis were all male. Orthodox synagogues still do not have any women in rabbinical roles. Since those guys say that they are doing everything correctly, and all else is inauthentic imitation, adherents would be of the opinion that there STILL are no women rabbis.
We could get into many advantages and disadvantages of an all-male clergy. I like the idea that it gives men something to do. Hanging out with their rabbi and discussing a Jewish equivalent of how many angels can dance on the head of a pin provides camaraderie and defrays boredom. This can contribute to a congenial home life. When women are discouraged from this esoteric knowledge, some of them desire inclusion. For example, if I were more informed, I might understand the significance of the not-so-bitter Israeli lettuce. There is also an increasing trend of clerical authoritarianism, I see that as the real issue in this citrus conversation. When both sexes are involved in a process, that egalitarianism is transmitted to those they serve. That would be the congregations.
Returning to the orange:
Once upon a time, not too long ago, a young woman asked her rabbi if she could also become a rabbi when she grew up. He responded: "When women can be rabbis, there will be an orange on the seder plate." Since that time, oranges have shoe-horned their way onto crowded holiday tables.
The haggadah doesn't say anything directly about why an egg is included either, only that you need one. Tradition has always been an evolving fusion.
"Don't we also need to get an orange?"
"If you say that we need an orange, then I will get an orange."
"But don't we NEED an orange."
"If an orange is part of your minhag, then we should have one."
She tried the phrase "supposed to" on me, but that didn't specifically apply either.
So, about the orange:
The seder plate includes five symbolic foods, although the seder is based around three symbolic foods including the unleavened bread which is not even one of the five on the plate. A Venn diagram might be useful here. Israeli seder plates include a space for a fresh green in addition to the mild parsley and the bitter horseradish. This is usually lettuce, and my haggadah does not mention any symbolism for it. An orange is not among the five.
There is a very modern story, probably originating in our lifetimes, and in my opinion, like an earlier one about George Washington and the cherry tree, quite likely after the fact, about the passover orange. Today there are many female rabbis, but this is a phenomenon of the last half century. Before that, rabbis were all male. Orthodox synagogues still do not have any women in rabbinical roles. Since those guys say that they are doing everything correctly, and all else is inauthentic imitation, adherents would be of the opinion that there STILL are no women rabbis.
We could get into many advantages and disadvantages of an all-male clergy. I like the idea that it gives men something to do. Hanging out with their rabbi and discussing a Jewish equivalent of how many angels can dance on the head of a pin provides camaraderie and defrays boredom. This can contribute to a congenial home life. When women are discouraged from this esoteric knowledge, some of them desire inclusion. For example, if I were more informed, I might understand the significance of the not-so-bitter Israeli lettuce. There is also an increasing trend of clerical authoritarianism, I see that as the real issue in this citrus conversation. When both sexes are involved in a process, that egalitarianism is transmitted to those they serve. That would be the congregations.
Returning to the orange:
Once upon a time, not too long ago, a young woman asked her rabbi if she could also become a rabbi when she grew up. He responded: "When women can be rabbis, there will be an orange on the seder plate." Since that time, oranges have shoe-horned their way onto crowded holiday tables.
The haggadah doesn't say anything directly about why an egg is included either, only that you need one. Tradition has always been an evolving fusion.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Ode to a Haircut
(Sing this to the tune of "Somewhere Out There")
Somewhere nearby I hear the buzzing sound
A song of barbershop clippers hummed in four part round
Even closer my favorite seventeen-year old
Soon to undergo shortening of his glorious locks of gold
And though no razor`s touched his hair since last June or July
I`d like to think underneath that mane is still the same sweet guy
To the strip mall a mere mile away
First thing on the agenda of a balmy spring break day
As the strands fall it soon reveals a trace
Of what is becoming a grown-up chiseled face
Floor-length tresses no longer decorate my mature tyke
But by summer they may evolve into a surfer spike
This has been a successful haircut event
I for one am glad that both of us went
And the clippers continue buzzing along
Will your own teenager soon attend a concert of their song?
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Caucusoidal Maniacs
My State caucuses were today. The one I attended was close-packed with people, but not at all a madhouse. I got there early and helped to set up and sign people in. This was Zbig`s first caucus, he isn`t 18 yet, but will turn 18 before the general election. That made him eligible to participate.
Good weather helped with the turnout, as did the neck and neck race between Clinton and Obama, coming out of Super Tuesday. If my precinct is any indication of a trend, the northwest is going heavily toward Obama. I`m torn. I like Clinton too, maybe more. I signed in uncommitted, and advanced as a delegate to the next level. This is new for me, I`ve always decided early in previous years. Being uncommitted means becoming a hot property. Other factions will try to sweet talk me into joining them.
Right now emails from Obama supporters are dropping into my email box at a rate around once a minute. Ping, ping, ping. I admire their passion.
Good weather helped with the turnout, as did the neck and neck race between Clinton and Obama, coming out of Super Tuesday. If my precinct is any indication of a trend, the northwest is going heavily toward Obama. I`m torn. I like Clinton too, maybe more. I signed in uncommitted, and advanced as a delegate to the next level. This is new for me, I`ve always decided early in previous years. Being uncommitted means becoming a hot property. Other factions will try to sweet talk me into joining them.
Right now emails from Obama supporters are dropping into my email box at a rate around once a minute. Ping, ping, ping. I admire their passion.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Raucous
I suddenly have the ability to feel full feel full after meals. Not stuffed full, but not focusing on what else looks good. Last night I bought raw almond butter and unsweetened chocolate and a bag of 4 avocados. But when I got home, all I ate was two peaches, and a cut up yellow pepper. The vegan-ness is unsettling my daughter a little bit. But I had already made chicken-vegetable stew for her, because I`m not pushing this at all. As a still growing kid, being an omnivore can be a good thing.
There have been a few news stories lately about nutrition featuring the phrase "food deserts." This refers to urban areas without grocery chain stores or farmers markets. Residents have to rely entirely on convenience stores where most of the foods sold are pre-packaged items with long shelf lives. By contrast, I am able to choose between so many fresh things, even now in February with sleet falling, and another snow storm threatening. I feel so blessed.
There have been a few news stories lately about nutrition featuring the phrase "food deserts." This refers to urban areas without grocery chain stores or farmers markets. Residents have to rely entirely on convenience stores where most of the foods sold are pre-packaged items with long shelf lives. By contrast, I am able to choose between so many fresh things, even now in February with sleet falling, and another snow storm threatening. I feel so blessed.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
where my windshield wipers be at?
I`m at a table next to the book store. I just got my eyes checked, and I can`t drive yet because the atropine drops that the optometrist used haven`t worn off yet. Eljay looks blurry. I brought some strips of a yellow bell pepper spread with peanut butter. I am munching on those along with a diet pepsi. Friday I read a slew of blogs about raw food diets and I have been somewhat trying that for the past few days. Obviously the soft drink doesn`t fit the category. The peanut butter is vegan, but not raw. Most of the hard core raw people don`t seem to eat legumes of any kind. I don`t think I would want to go that far. I like fresh peas, I`ve blended frozen peas into a raw dip.
Could I do it? Go completely raw. Probably not entirely. I might still make chicken soup occasionally. And I`m not going to deprive the PrissKids of any categories of food. They don`t have any of the eating whackiness that I do, and they seem to understand moderation. They do seem unable to ever have leftover pizza, but that is a singular exception. After avoiding dairy and bread products for a few days, I feel kind of better all over. That`s amazing for me. I haven`t really written about my pain issues here, but I have some long-term problems. Sometimes they are compounded by a general achy all over feeling, so to have relief from that overlay makes a huge difference. Yesterday I made guacamole and ate it on thin slices of zucchini. It felt so free to be able to have as much as I wanted without worrying about the calories in crackers, or in some main dish.
Raw for the time being, or semi-raw. If you want to take me out for Maine lobster I may make an exception :)
PS -Things are still blurry.
PPS- Still blurry and it`s after 6PM They said it would be 2 hours!
Could I do it? Go completely raw. Probably not entirely. I might still make chicken soup occasionally. And I`m not going to deprive the PrissKids of any categories of food. They don`t have any of the eating whackiness that I do, and they seem to understand moderation. They do seem unable to ever have leftover pizza, but that is a singular exception. After avoiding dairy and bread products for a few days, I feel kind of better all over. That`s amazing for me. I haven`t really written about my pain issues here, but I have some long-term problems. Sometimes they are compounded by a general achy all over feeling, so to have relief from that overlay makes a huge difference. Yesterday I made guacamole and ate it on thin slices of zucchini. It felt so free to be able to have as much as I wanted without worrying about the calories in crackers, or in some main dish.
Raw for the time being, or semi-raw. If you want to take me out for Maine lobster I may make an exception :)
PS -Things are still blurry.
PPS- Still blurry and it`s after 6PM They said it would be 2 hours!
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Tu BShevat and Sonnets
My daughter asked me if I knew any words that rhymed with "lost." Other than using a rhyming dictionary, the most obvious method is to go through the alphabet: bossed, cost, dossed. Is dossed a word? I think it is, and an online dictionary says that it means going to bed. Which is perfect for poetry where the subject might want to bunk down, perchance to dream. And what about "dost?" The Internet says it is an archaic form of "does," I do, he dost. OK, yes, that sounds familiar, very "Prince and the Pauper." It turns out that she was writing a sonnet.
The main thing that I remembered about sonnets was that Sylvia Plath had science class anxiety, and she got her counselor to excuse her from having to enroll. But she found the atmosphere in study hall to be something like Mark Twain`s description of a Lacrosse game: two armies beating each other with sticks, with a hard missile occasionally denting someone`s head. So she asked the chemistry teacher if she could audit his class, and spent the sessions looking up to smile sweetly at him while writing sonnets and villanelles.
There are roughly three styles of sonnet, with the Shakespearean form being the favorite of ninth-graders. Maddy showed me a few well-known examples, all of which I recognized. I tried reading one out loud, and she said that I was not following the soft/hard pattern of iambic pentameter. Her English teacher recommends "head banging" to get the rhythm right. This rhythm can also be achieved by channeling Bela Lugosi, or the Sesame Street Count, or any Italian speaker. Also, each line must have ten syllables.
Your teacher said that you should bang your head
But I prefer to wave my arm instead
Yes, incorporating movement really did allow me to get into the sonnet groove. And as I shall be going to a service tomorrow where everyone has been asked to bring a rock or a feather or a quotation
OR A POEM
It seems only fitting to appear with my first ever Sonnetic effort.
today we mark the new year of the trees
wet sap awakens, hidden within bark
in two months the stubborn leaf buds it frees
shall burst knifelike and pallid in the park
soon greenish fronds seek sun to synthesize
added mass of stems, that bloom and set seed
winter shards cover up in springtime guise
avian creatures weave a house of reed
plantlike, sometimes emotion hibernates
when weather harsh restricts love`s easy flow
until hormonal heat initiates
capillary action`s flowery show
red rose hips in a scape barren of sprigs
a lone preserve: fall`s fruit upon stark twigs
The main thing that I remembered about sonnets was that Sylvia Plath had science class anxiety, and she got her counselor to excuse her from having to enroll. But she found the atmosphere in study hall to be something like Mark Twain`s description of a Lacrosse game: two armies beating each other with sticks, with a hard missile occasionally denting someone`s head. So she asked the chemistry teacher if she could audit his class, and spent the sessions looking up to smile sweetly at him while writing sonnets and villanelles.
There are roughly three styles of sonnet, with the Shakespearean form being the favorite of ninth-graders. Maddy showed me a few well-known examples, all of which I recognized. I tried reading one out loud, and she said that I was not following the soft/hard pattern of iambic pentameter. Her English teacher recommends "head banging" to get the rhythm right. This rhythm can also be achieved by channeling Bela Lugosi, or the Sesame Street Count, or any Italian speaker. Also, each line must have ten syllables.
Your teacher said that you should bang your head
But I prefer to wave my arm instead
Yes, incorporating movement really did allow me to get into the sonnet groove. And as I shall be going to a service tomorrow where everyone has been asked to bring a rock or a feather or a quotation
OR A POEM
It seems only fitting to appear with my first ever Sonnetic effort.
today we mark the new year of the trees
wet sap awakens, hidden within bark
in two months the stubborn leaf buds it frees
shall burst knifelike and pallid in the park
soon greenish fronds seek sun to synthesize
added mass of stems, that bloom and set seed
winter shards cover up in springtime guise
avian creatures weave a house of reed
plantlike, sometimes emotion hibernates
when weather harsh restricts love`s easy flow
until hormonal heat initiates
capillary action`s flowery show
red rose hips in a scape barren of sprigs
a lone preserve: fall`s fruit upon stark twigs
Monday, December 10, 2007
Oz Eggmore? I know Ozymandius! He's Lady Eggmore's grandson.
So there was no interpretive dancing.
There wasn't even any circle dancing.
But there were cookies and latkes and stories and songs
Including one surprising new song. The lyrics were about flickering candles.
Our song leader played a few bars on the electric keyboard. The tune was strangely familiar. It had a shrill syncopated honky-tonk feel to it. I started to laugh. A few people looked at me oddly. How could notes without words be funny? I looked over at my daughter. She was laughing too.
Maddy said: do you know what this is?
I replied: Peter Cottontail!
She said: I know!
The vamp bars concluded. As we launched into the words, we both applied that slight southwestern rasp to our vowel sounds best befitting the style of the music.
Happy Holidays from Priss Prisstofferson 21314 to Blogshares and to all of my readers near and far!
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Total Eclipse
Climactic vagaries and inattention have generally combined to hide the Lunar Eclipses from me. This time they failed to hand off duties in any theoretical or coincidental alliance. I pitched the viewing idea to the PrissKids; our own driveway, or perhaps a park? Staying up all night appealed, but the celestial event garnered no underage excitement. What about if I brought coffee? No. Snacks? Maybe. My daughter asked if she could invite a friend or two. I said OK, and decided to try the Junior High football field. While surrounded by trees, it is large enough that we might be able to find a spot central enough to see well. One of its parking lots is un-gated.
Inviting others threatened to get out of hand when friend number two said she would be asking a bunch of people to join us. I told my daughter that if more than a few kids were coming I wasn't comfortable being the only parent present. We packed blankets and pillows, and tucked a box of pretzels into the backpack. One of her pals showed up, and the girls baked lemon cupcakes to take along.
We set out just before just 1:00 AM, to pick up the other bud on our way. But there are always complications. Zbig weaseled out of coming with us, because the Maddy posse is too hyper for him. And as we rounded the first corner, my daughter casually mentioned that we were also picking up the friend`s twin brother.
Harrumph. If her scheme had not been concealed, I could have leveraged the the presence of an awkward non-blabby guy to get Zbig to accompany us. Or barring that, have have made it into a girls-only evening. So there I was with my kid and her emo-Goth-Wiccan-Protestant pals, one of whom disappeared with the Y-Chromosome twin for more than two hours. (Both sets of parents have been appraised of this potential unseemliness.)
The moon show was profound. It didn't need the embellishment of those auto-hypnotic rituals used to impart intensity into programmed celebrations. The full disk of the moon was painfully bright to look at. Unfiltered binoculars were overkill. The first twenty minutes were: Is anything happening? Which side? Yes, they are dancing in the moonlight. That is what girls do. A constellation that may have been Cetus was brilliant overhead.
A shadow arrived, beginning in the upper left quadrant. Time for pretzels and mooncake! We had the field completely to ourselves, and the kidlets launched into a series of Eagles and Beatles vocalizations. Were these people 14, or 54? That was when one of them, feeling ignored, sulked away to write in her diary by flashlight. She gradually increased her distance from us. Our non-female moon-viewer vanished as well.
The moon`s disk went through half, and was down to crescent when the dark area became visible in gray, turning toward lavender. As the shadow approached full coverage, swirls of orange showed, and then it darkened to a mottled reddish brown. More stars could be seen now. The familiar Dippers popped out overhead and Orion had risen.
Air temperature had dropped. I poured coffee into my 1950s turquoise plastic cups. The remaining occupants on my blanket demonstrated that they were not of the Javanese faith: Mmm, smells good. It`s so warm! This needs sugar, way more sugar! I cant drink this. The child conversation morphed into a discussion of llamas, Eventually substituting the cameloid term for most nouns and many verbs.
The full Eclipse phase seemed to last forever, the brown going back to purplish and remaining that way for nearly an hour. The moon arced across the sky and dipped into tree territory. I walked to the track and climbed into the 30-seat mini-bleachers. Then, as the shadow lessened, the moon took on a three-dimensional quality. The gradation between shadowed edges and glowing center made it feel like the true globe that it is. Our wandering couple reappeared and I asked them not to leave again.
A stark white patch showed before 5:00 AM, and grew quickly. My eyes had adjusted to darkness, so at first it seemed brighter than it had earlier. At 5:22 I was was ready to leave. (The official beginning and ending times were from 00:52 to 06:22 August 28, 2007.)
Blankets and pillows were repacked and we pulled out of the concealed parking lot.
I parked the Geminis with their parents and headed home. Looking west as we drove, the full moon was still high. It was bright enough to compete with traffic lights and shop windows.
Explain symbols in the map.
Inviting others threatened to get out of hand when friend number two said she would be asking a bunch of people to join us. I told my daughter that if more than a few kids were coming I wasn't comfortable being the only parent present. We packed blankets and pillows, and tucked a box of pretzels into the backpack. One of her pals showed up, and the girls baked lemon cupcakes to take along.
We set out just before just 1:00 AM, to pick up the other bud on our way. But there are always complications. Zbig weaseled out of coming with us, because the Maddy posse is too hyper for him. And as we rounded the first corner, my daughter casually mentioned that we were also picking up the friend`s twin brother.
Harrumph. If her scheme had not been concealed, I could have leveraged the the presence of an awkward non-blabby guy to get Zbig to accompany us. Or barring that, have have made it into a girls-only evening. So there I was with my kid and her emo-Goth-Wiccan-Protestant pals, one of whom disappeared with the Y-Chromosome twin for more than two hours. (Both sets of parents have been appraised of this potential unseemliness.)
The moon show was profound. It didn't need the embellishment of those auto-hypnotic rituals used to impart intensity into programmed celebrations. The full disk of the moon was painfully bright to look at. Unfiltered binoculars were overkill. The first twenty minutes were: Is anything happening? Which side? Yes, they are dancing in the moonlight. That is what girls do. A constellation that may have been Cetus was brilliant overhead.
A shadow arrived, beginning in the upper left quadrant. Time for pretzels and mooncake! We had the field completely to ourselves, and the kidlets launched into a series of Eagles and Beatles vocalizations. Were these people 14, or 54? That was when one of them, feeling ignored, sulked away to write in her diary by flashlight. She gradually increased her distance from us. Our non-female moon-viewer vanished as well.
The moon`s disk went through half, and was down to crescent when the dark area became visible in gray, turning toward lavender. As the shadow approached full coverage, swirls of orange showed, and then it darkened to a mottled reddish brown. More stars could be seen now. The familiar Dippers popped out overhead and Orion had risen.
Air temperature had dropped. I poured coffee into my 1950s turquoise plastic cups. The remaining occupants on my blanket demonstrated that they were not of the Javanese faith: Mmm, smells good. It`s so warm! This needs sugar, way more sugar! I cant drink this. The child conversation morphed into a discussion of llamas, Eventually substituting the cameloid term for most nouns and many verbs.
The full Eclipse phase seemed to last forever, the brown going back to purplish and remaining that way for nearly an hour. The moon arced across the sky and dipped into tree territory. I walked to the track and climbed into the 30-seat mini-bleachers. Then, as the shadow lessened, the moon took on a three-dimensional quality. The gradation between shadowed edges and glowing center made it feel like the true globe that it is. Our wandering couple reappeared and I asked them not to leave again.
A stark white patch showed before 5:00 AM, and grew quickly. My eyes had adjusted to darkness, so at first it seemed brighter than it had earlier. At 5:22 I was was ready to leave. (The official beginning and ending times were from 00:52 to 06:22 August 28, 2007.)
Blankets and pillows were repacked and we pulled out of the concealed parking lot.
I parked the Geminis with their parents and headed home. Looking west as we drove, the full moon was still high. It was bright enough to compete with traffic lights and shop windows.
Explain symbols in the map.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
PrissLand Update
March came in like a lion with 4 inches of snowfall on Feb 28th in the evening as Maddy and I made our way back from her orchestra rehearsal and an inescapable grocery run. This adhesive snow was the latest ever in two decades at this location. The previous record was February 20th, set back soon after I moved in. The Volvo is a full-size vehicle with rubber tires. It lacks those crampon studded boots favored by frozen-waterfall climbers. We parked at the bottom of the steepest part, grabbed most of the provisions, and hiked in. Zbig was dispatched with a backpack to get the rest.
I am happy to say that my new spring shoes came through the ordeal unscathed. My hamstrings were not so lucky, and I've been battling leg cramps ever since. The ibuprofen industry is benefiting enormously. School was canceled Thursday, but resumed Friday as the streets had returned to full navigability.
Monday brought another downtown odyssey. As part of my continuing quest for expert advice, it was revealed that should I have to give sworn testimony, there will be no Bible, and that it's a "sworn or affirmed" statement. Yay for secularity. And don't worry, I haven't violated the rights of any field mice, so my freedom is not in jeopardy. There were several stops, and I ended up walking a few miles. I got home by 11 AM, and plunged into cleaning.
The fun resumed on Tuesday with a garage door technician paying me a call (and with my paying him a fee.) There was also some gardening. The dishwasher is suffering malfunction, and a kitchen faucet part has succumbed to metal fatigue. Today I consult with an expert in yet another discipline: the wonderful world of plumbing.
. . .
Last night, I went to the orchestra concert. The kids were incredible. Maddy had a small solo. Afterward, band booster parents honored our players with a cookie and juice reception. Junior High Students still get excited about sugar :)
I've never understood why movie mobsters cry at the opera. It's violins that do it for me.
I am happy to say that my new spring shoes came through the ordeal unscathed. My hamstrings were not so lucky, and I've been battling leg cramps ever since. The ibuprofen industry is benefiting enormously. School was canceled Thursday, but resumed Friday as the streets had returned to full navigability.
Monday brought another downtown odyssey. As part of my continuing quest for expert advice, it was revealed that should I have to give sworn testimony, there will be no Bible, and that it's a "sworn or affirmed" statement. Yay for secularity. And don't worry, I haven't violated the rights of any field mice, so my freedom is not in jeopardy. There were several stops, and I ended up walking a few miles. I got home by 11 AM, and plunged into cleaning.
The fun resumed on Tuesday with a garage door technician paying me a call (and with my paying him a fee.) There was also some gardening. The dishwasher is suffering malfunction, and a kitchen faucet part has succumbed to metal fatigue. Today I consult with an expert in yet another discipline: the wonderful world of plumbing.
. . .
Last night, I went to the orchestra concert. The kids were incredible. Maddy had a small solo. Afterward, band booster parents honored our players with a cookie and juice reception. Junior High Students still get excited about sugar :)
I've never understood why movie mobsters cry at the opera. It's violins that do it for me.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Rat Words
Maddy is reading "The Stainless Steel Rat Gets Drafted" by Harry Harrison. It's one of my old paperbacks and it's still funny 20 years after it was written. She just came across a few unfamiliar words and asked me what they meant.
redoosial:
That's "residual" it means what is left over.
insufflate:
Not a real word.
Are you sure it's not a real word?
We went back and forth, she showed it to me in print.
It's a word that he made up, and from the context it means that he ate something.
But it says, "I didn't eat it so much as I insufflated it."
After that it says that he went back for more. The author could have said that he "inhaled it," or "ate it without tasting it," but he preferred to make up his own word.
and finally there was
cagal:
Do you mean "cabal?"
She spelled it for me.
Oh, that's a cuss word that he made up.
What does it mean?
Excrement.
She was surprised at the last one, and also that I thought it should be pronounced with a long "A." Cagal," rhymes with "bagel."
Edit: INSUFFLATE is a real word! Darn you internet. But CAGAL is not. Not yet that is.
redoosial:
That's "residual" it means what is left over.
insufflate:
Not a real word.
Are you sure it's not a real word?
We went back and forth, she showed it to me in print.
It's a word that he made up, and from the context it means that he ate something.
But it says, "I didn't eat it so much as I insufflated it."
After that it says that he went back for more. The author could have said that he "inhaled it," or "ate it without tasting it," but he preferred to make up his own word.
and finally there was
cagal:
Do you mean "cabal?"
She spelled it for me.
Oh, that's a cuss word that he made up.
What does it mean?
Excrement.
She was surprised at the last one, and also that I thought it should be pronounced with a long "A." Cagal," rhymes with "bagel."
Edit: INSUFFLATE is a real word! Darn you internet. But CAGAL is not. Not yet that is.
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