Cyberspace Grotto

Dizzy Up the Girl

2012-01-16T05:32:00.000-08:00

Once you get free, talk to me...
~Goo Goo Dolls

It doesn't take much to entertain me. All I need is: music that matches my mood, and an open space. Maybe a jump rope, and a well-cut leotard. When these elements do come together, something happens... and I get the feeling like, yeah, I should definitely do it every night.

A couple of these nights stand out in my mind. Sometimes there was an audience- but there doesn't have to be an audience. Sometimes there is more magic without an audience. I have no idea why. But that magic is a powerful thing- even in obscurity, even when you are little. But these are the nights I feel most alive.

1) Provo, Utah: Freezing cold. I run to class in the snow to give a presentation on the history of housing of African Americans. I pass out popcorn and Nestle crunch bars to my listeners. I love to perform, but it also feels like a life or death situation to me. I come home and sleep. When I wake up, there is this magic in the room and I know I have to meet it somehow. I put on my headphones, a Goo Goo dolls CD, and pull out my jump rope. I remember this night so well. Music never sounded so good- not to anyone. No one ever rocked out with a jump rope like I did- like it was the last night I would ever be allowed to move.

2) I am failing my modern dance class. Is it because I am a slacker, or because I like to see how far I can push things/ people? Sometimes I wonder. I know something must happen, beyond and above myself, for me to end up with an okay grade. I have one more performance- will it be enough? I'm standing in front of a bunch of people- my teachers, classmates, all somewhat skeptical, because I haven't exactly been showing up to class. But the music turns on, and something in me rises up to meet this occasion- what the rebel in me seems to be waiting for, to wow them all the more, because the last thing they expect is a good performance. And then I am just like the girl in Sucker Punch- I go somewhere else entirely, I don't even know what my body is doing. The music stops, and everyone is staring at me. I wonder if it is good or not. My teachers call me at home that night to tell me that they raised my grade significantly- and to express wonder at this turnaround. But to me, it is much more than a grade- it is some kind of mad triumph.

3) I am missing someone terribly. I need a channel, something to put all this pain into. Somehow, I find the perfect song. And dancing becomes the perfect expression- and I know that my dance wouldn't be as good without the sorrow laced through the movements. That is what makes it deeper, richer.
Is that what we are here to do, create art out of sadness?

“When you are inquisitive, Jane, you always make me smile. You open your eyes like an eager bird, and make every now and then a restless movement, as if answers in speech did not flow fast enough for you, and you wanted to read the tablet of one's heart.”
~Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

Happy New Year + Puppy + Birthday = Whoa!

2012-01-01T10:57:00.000-08:00

Meet Zoe! The newest pet in our family.

We were just playing around with her in Puppy Love, and all the sudden my mom goes, "I'll take 'er!" Me and my niece Justine were like, "Whaaaaaa?"

I don't know how Pan can be so hard-hearted, but she haaaaates Zoe.

New Year's Day flapjacks! Making flapjacks always reminds me of my brother, Wes. I love him soooo much. It is also his birthday today. Happy Birthday Wes!

Me & my friend Trisha met up for a really huge breakfast at the Egg & I. It was like a trucker's breakfast. Which is totally appropriate, since we went on a road trip together to Wyoming once. We got lost in Colorado, ended up in some obscure town, and had to ask a lady walking her dog where the heck we were.

My family still likes to tease me about this.

Me & sis-in-law Lyn, being veeery silly. You should see the other photos.

(Actually... you shouldn't.)

Too early for flapjacks?

~Groundhog's Day

Little Things + Hero / Heroine

2011-12-28T19:13:00.000-08:00

This is a post about a combination of things, both spiritual and materialistic in nature, that to me evokes the feeling of Christmas. Oh, with some heroes and heroines thrown in.

Christmas booties!

My crafty sister who made me a plate. Because of the tape measurer, little bird, and sewing model,

it reminds me of one of my most beloved heroines, Cinderella. She is my heroine, because even when everything around her is bad, it is like she has this inner light, and she always makes the best of very little.

Hello Kitty duct tape! Hello Kitty is a great heroine for all girls. She is trusting, innocent, and fun.

New pink jacket! So reminiscent of Barbie, another heroine of mine. Barbie is a leader, and when things go wrong in her world, she loses herself in a good cause.

New French whisk (the bomb) and hand-embroidered pillowcase from Grandma Winklemann (priceless).

My Grandma is another heroine of mine, because she is a Domestic Goddess.

I do believe in fairies!

(Just close your eyes and say it. Its all you need to know.)

Sweettart Candy Canes!

Something Halloweeny at Christmas...

Earrings!

Perfume!

Stingray teeth!

I went to the zoo with my nephew Finn, and we petted the sting rays. The zoo guy gave me a tooth.

My library membership.

When you think about it, the generosity of libraries, of artists, of the universe in general, doesn't make any sense. Maybe that is why it works so well.

And now, I am going to write a short meditation on the song "Lucky Now"by Ryan Adams.

"And the lights will draw you in

but the dark will break you down

and the night will break your heart

But only if you're lucky now"

For me, one of the trickiest things in life is knowing what you really want. But if you are one of those lucky people who know- genuinely know- what it is you want, then you should just go for it. It is worth getting your heart broken- and you will. It is worth going broke. It is worth everything, if you really know what you want. It is worth going on the longest journey ever. Whether you get what you want or not, is not the point. The point is, you will live. And at the end of this road that is endless, full of heartbreak and sorrow, and lower that low, you'll look back, and you'll realize something- that you were one of the lucky ones.

True ecstasy hails neither from spirit nor from nature, but from the union of these two.

~Martin Buber

An Affinity for Heels

2011-11-27T12:51:00.000-08:00

I'm so blessed to be loved like I am by little people- namely, my nieces and nephews. I mean, I haven't seen Maya in months, and it is like we never parted. On the drive to Queen Creek, she grabs my arms, and proceeds to kiss my fingers and arm for most of the journey. There is nothing like a little person to make you feel good.

Later, when playing upstairs, I took off my shoes, so as not to injure anyone. I see Maya- tearing off her pink cowboy boots in favor of my heels. Then, even though this is probably her first time in such high heels, she proceeds to go down the stairs! The child is a prodigy! I mean, I didn't have that kind of balance until I was like... twenty-five. She went up the stairs, too, and when she hit level ground, she started running in my heels.

Then, she substituted my name into a song she learned on TV. "Tiffy... she's a little girl in a great big world..." and sang it on the way home. I have the cleverest, most brilliant little people in my life.

"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it."

~William Arthur Ward

Sneak Preview

2011-10-27T11:32:00.000-07:00

Hihi!

At the risk of having competitors visit my blog and copy my pumpkin, I am going to reveal my creation one day early. Here is the pumpkin I painted for this year's contest where I work.

A few little notes: Martha Stewart came out with a new line of paint @ Michaels! It is $2.00 a bottle, comes in a multiplicity of beautiful shades, and dried with a lovely satin finish. So partial credit for my pretty pumpkin must go to Martha. Also, I avoided spending lots-o-money on colored glitter (soooo tempting) by painting underneath the glitter and using a clear glitter on top, basically achieving the same effect. Also, I watched "Waking Life" while painting my pumpkin, a philosophical film that will leave you feeling very confused. But in a good way.

Everyone hail to the pumpkin song.
~Danny Elfman (I believe)

Wrapping for Austen T.

2011-10-15T08:50:00.000-07:00

I have this nephew, Austen T. His smile could light up Hezekiah's Tunnel.
(It's this really dark place.)
And he's still at the age where he is not afraid to say "I love you" 20 times in one hour. To me.
Which, I have come to discover as my nieces and nephews grow, is not a phase that lasts.
So, I value it even more.

I got him Charlie Brown and the Great Halloween Pumpkin, or something like that. We sat down and all watched it together- me, Juli, Justine, Tayler, Lauren, Austen, Mamma- and we were totally cracking up throughout the show. Austen decided he would sit in the lap of the person who laughed hardest. He had to keep switching laps, but he was in mine quite a bit of the time.

I have veered from the topic of my post, but that is okay. I'll get back to it now. I love buying presents, but I have yet to reach the state of enlightenment where I enjoy buying gift bags. Its just so... fussy. And they look so pretty, and then they get shredded to pieces. It's kind of... heartbreaking.

But I have a passion for stamps. The solution? Make my own gift bags. I took some high-quality brown paper grocery bags, carefully turned them inside out, stamped them and dashed them with a little glitter: voila! And even if the paper gets tossed out, the stamp... remains.

I've learned there are three things you don't discuss with people: religion, politics and the Great Pumpkin.
-Linus

Such a Lovely Place...

2011-10-05T20:47:00.000-07:00

It is very, extremely difficult not to become attached to scruffy, tiny kittens who visit your backyard. They are totally wild, but I do believe they stayed at the Hotel Kitten one stormy night...

Secretariat

2011-09-29T19:53:00.000-07:00

Have any of you seen Secretariat? Quotes from this movie have been running around my mind lately. So full of bravery, Secretariat is a movie about a race horse that teaches us how to live.

I especially love the opening quote. It reminds us of our braver, truer selves, instead of the scaredy cats we (I) sometimes act like. Read on!

Do you give the horse his strength or clothe his neck with a flowing mane?

Do you make him leap like a locust, striking terror with his proud snorting?

He paws fiercely, rejoicing in his strength, and charges into the fray.

He laughs at fear, afraid of nothing; he does not shy away from the sword.

The quiver rattles against his side, along with the flashing spear and lance.

In frenzied excitement he eats up the ground; he cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds.

Job 39:19-24 (NIV)

Work Out, Tea, Wrap the Knee

2011-09-28T11:33:00.000-07:00

This time I really need to do things right...
~Maroon 5, "Stutter"

When you wish upon a star... it actually works. I was out Kitty-Skating under the stars one night, and I looked up and saw a twinkling star. I was like, "I really miss my curly hair." Because I used to get perms. But those are super out of style. And I am just too lazy to curl my hair with a curling iron. But hot rollers... those I can do. Because you just roll them up in your hair, and they do your hair for you.
So the next time you need something, try wishing on a star!
And, as Green Day always says, "Better thank your lucky stars (shea hey hey)"

The many moods of Marzipan. This one is: introspective.

This is the little button I've been feeding in my back yard. I told my mom, "Somebody chopped off its tail." She was like, "No, it's a Manx." I guess Manx don't have tails! So, I don't want to become the eccentric lady with a thousand cats, but what do you do when a starving kitten shows up on your porch? You feed it. But this one is not social, like Pan. This one runs for the hills if I try to make friends with it.

So, I love my legs. Not because they are perfect. Indeed, they have their fair share of flaws. I love them because they are capable of so many wonderful things. Some may say this is narcissism. But it's not. Our body is a great gift, to be appreciated, and yes, loved.
But they have been dancing for 30 years now, some of it rather hard-core, and I get the occasional injury. I tried wrapping my knee- which had a little ouchie- in wool flannel with castor oil this morning. Then Duct tape. "I love Duct tape." That is from Inkheart.
While the Castor oil and wool flannel are highly effective, I recommend safety pins rather than Duct tape. The tape tends to slip, and the oil prevents it from sticking. Safety pins, on the other hand, hold it in place, as long as you wrap it tightly.
And each day, during Reverance*, I make sure to give thanks, for one more day of dancing.

I discovered a new kind of tea, but I think I am going to be exclusive about it for a while. Like Charles Wallace in "A Wrinkle in Time."

Reverance: An expression of profound gratitude, respect, and joy for the body, performed at the end of ballet class.

This Hateful Imperfection of Mine Eyes

2011-08-25T05:13:00.000-07:00

And now I have the boy, I will undo
This hateful imperfection of her eyes:

And think no more of this night's accidents
But as the fierce vexation of a dream.

Be as thou wast wont to be;
See as thou wast wont to see:

~A Midsummer Night Dream, Shakespeare

http://sites.duke.edu/midsummer/

I love this play, how it illustrates how vulnerable even fairies are to "cupid's flower". Or perhaps, especially fairies. Because they think they are so smart.

I relate especially well to this play because for years now, I have had a horrible imperfection in my eyes. It is called Pink Eye.

The first time I got it, I was in Provo, Utah, going to school in the summertime. Cause I'm a geek. Since all the normal people had gone home, there was no one around, and I had to drive myself to the emergency room. I couldn't really see, because yucky stuff was pouring out of my eyes, and then I had to sit there for about 3 hours, and pretend like I could see when people said something to me. Then the doctor said, "Oh you have a beautiful name. I especially love Tiffany lamps." Hmmmm.

Since then, I have gotten it, oh, a million times.

My brother, who is a PA, has been extremely reliable in calling in numerous prescriptions- sometimes in various parts of the country, when I'm on vacation. It's like the pink eye germs are attracted to me. Like if they are in a 10 mile radius, they spot me and come after me. Like Titania goes after Nick Bottom when her eyes are anointed with the love juice. Which is to say, really fast and really furious.
One day, I had had it. Up to here. I was using the drops, but they weren't working. I was washing my eyes out with Boric Acid. That provided temporary relief. I washed my eyes out with Baby Shampoo, which has antibacterial qualities, but doesn't sting. Okay, it stings a little. But it was like this virus had built up an immunity to all these things. Like Westley builds up and immunity to Iocaine powder in the Princess Bride.

I can't tell you how many mascaras I have had to replace. I guess I could go without mascara. But I'm really vain, okay? Titania's curse equals my curse.

Then I had a LIGHT BULB moment. It was time to get ruthless. I needed some power in my corner. Some medicine akin to "Dian's bud". Something simple, but daring too- like Cinderella's dress.


Bibity Bob

SOAP!!!
And not wimpy Baby Shampoo, either. The real stuff.
Not maybe the funnest experiment ever, but you don't understand. This whole thing has been CRAZY!!!!! I would have tried jumping off a 40 foot ladder into a baby swimming pool if I thought it would help.

Luckily, I didn't really feel like that would help.

So... I grabbed a favorite bar of soap.

I adore this soap. It is full of shea butter, so it never dries out your skin. Even if you like to take marathon baths. (It's my form of meditation, okay?) I have a basket full of these in my bathroom.
I had never put it directly into my eyes. But I had to try.
It hurt. A lot. And I did it THREE TIMES.
But guess what?
I think it's gone. (crossing fingers)
Uh huh, oh yah! Let's hear it for home remedies! And for Oberon, who eventually took pity on his poor queen, and anointed her eyes with the healing balm.

As a side note, the score to Midsummer Night's Dream is really beautiful. Mendelssohn did a fantastic job bringing the story to life through music.

Balanchine choreographed a ballet to Mendelssohn's score. He was married like six times, so I think he felt a personal connection to this story...

And there is the Hollywood version. Which is mostly how I became familiar with the story. I adore Calista Flockhart's version of Helena. She loves Demetrius, but Demetrius loves Hermia. She laments:

No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;
For beasts that meet me run away for fear:

But Cupid has some surprises in store for her, and the result is a messy, muddy, hilarious scene.

Let us part with Oberon's words, which you can imagine him whispering in your ear as you awake from your flowery bed:

Dian's bud o're Cupid's flower

Hath such force and blessed power

Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.

Birchbox & Beachy Waves

2011-08-10T19:59:00.000-07:00

My sister-in-law Lyndsay gave me a full year membership to Birchbox for my birthday. It is the most thoughtful gift. This company sends you sample sizes of various products each month. You get to try out the latest and greatest, and not spend your life savings at Sephora in the process.

Not least among the many reasons I love this company, is the online tutorials that are beauty lifesavers. Those girls totally know their stuff.
My hair took off on this summertime growth spurt, and I honestly had no idea what to do with it.
Then I watched this tutorial on Birchbox about making beachy waves. The night before you go to bed, you twist two little buns on top of your head, and secure with elastic bands. The hair should be slightly damp. In the morning, you just let out your little buns, and you have more waves than Big Surf.
Also, their Messy Bun tutorial is cutie the bomb.

So check out Birchbox!

http://www.birchbox.com/

International Incident!

2011-08-06T10:52:00.000-07:00


This is a 6th century mosiac placed in the Wohl Rose gardens, one of my favorite places in Jerusalem.

I was going to scan in some pictures of me and my crew (former fellow students that is) checking out the Wohl Rose Gardens, but I don't have a scanner. I realized I would have to go to Fed Ex down the street. But I am in my dance clothes. Even though I do have some way cute dance outfits, it might not be all that appropriate. I guess I could change. But I'm just so comfortable.

I met a man the other night at the library. It was raining, and the library was dim and quiet, and it was just the perfect setting for an International Incident.

He came up to me with his little girl, who could have played a younger version of Esther. The straight, graceful nose; long, curly hair shot with gold; eyes brimming with intelligence. And skin the color of ripe olives... I would know that skin anywhere.

"Are you guys from Israel?" I asked with glee. Then I noticed the writing on the man's shirt, which I took to be Hebrew. Large, blocky letters.

He smiled at me, genuinely pleased that I knew his country of origin. It is lonely abroad. We talked about everything Israeli- street food, hummus, falafels, the scent of those exotic spices... oh the scent... okay, mainly we talked about food. Food, that great bridge between peoples of widely varying backgrounds.

And then, in a moment of hubris, wanting to show off my world-traveling ability, I said casually, "I could tell you were from Israel, because of the Hebrew writing on your shirt."

He looked down at his shirt, then grinned widely at me. "Actually," he said. "That's Japanese. It's from when I went to a Pink Floyd concert in Japan." We looked at each other, and then just started cracking up.

I guess it is time for me to start traveling again. Mistaking Japanese for Hebrew is beyond rusty. There are always the usual limitations. Finances, work, who will take care of my kitty? But desire- real desire- always finds a way. I love this quote by Liz Gilbert.

"I have always felt, ever since I was sixteen years old and went to Russia with my saved up babysitting money, that to travel is worth any cost or sacrifice."

The little girl's name was Michal, and the guy promised to bring me some of his homemade hummus. Except, he felt to point out, he bought the tahini. He did not, as his grandmother did before him, crush the seeds in a mortar himself.

When I lived in Israel, oh, forever ago, I slept in a tiny room with three other girls. We shared a bathroom- how we did not end up killing each other, I'm not entirely sure- and at night, I put on my little cassette of Israeli folk music. Then, in my glasses and baggy pants bought down in the city, I would dance to Hava Nagila for my roommates. They actually really seemed to enjoy it. Especially the part where I lift my hands to the sky and shout loudly, "Oy! Oy!"

Yeah, we were kind of nerds, with no sense of style, spending inordinate amounts of time in the library when we weren't out looking at mosaics... but it was the best time ever.

Jellies, Storm, You Know, the Usual Stuff

2011-07-25T04:47:00.000-07:00

We had the craziest storm on this night. Thus, I can't sleep. No, not a nip. Thus, the unusual blogging time (keen observers will surely note).
The wind slashed the rain violently against the window. In addition to the outer turmoil, my associative mind kept playing "at the carwash, baby"; because when I looked out the window, it looked just like it does when you go through the car wash. You can't see anything but water streaming down the window.
I love a good storm, but tonight was different. Every time I looked out the window, I kind of felt like crying. Finally, I just had to stop looking. I planted a baby apricot tree, which I have nurtured and watered every night before bed, whether I felt like it or not (most of the time, I did not feel like it). And this monsoon looked like it was going to rip it out of the ground any second.
Plus, I was hungry, but I never know what to eat in the middle of the night. (Ideas?)
Then I thought, Maybe I should blog about that time I wore my jellies to Queen Hatshepsut's temple. Because isn't that what everyone thinks of in the middle of an Arizona monsoon?

I have this thing for jellies. They are ideal in so many ways. They provide coverage for your feet, but you don't feel like you are wearing shoes. They're just so ventilating.

Once I wore my jellies to Queen Hatshepsut's temple in Egypt. I felt connected to everything around me. I could feel the sand, the rock, the warmth of the earth streaming up through my feet. And my jellies bend and stretch so beautifully. In fact,

If you are into spontaneous tendus (ahh tendu feels so good. In French, it means literally "to stretch the foot"), which I am, jellies provide the perfect structure in which to do this.

Incidentally, whilst looking for images of these comfy shoes, I discovered several bloggers who feel exactly the way I do.

It is very simple. We miss jellies.

"For women, shoes are the most important. Good shoes take you good places."
— Seo Min Hyun

Playing in My Ride

2011-07-16T11:59:00.000-07:00

Favorite Song: Stand Too Close (oh the beautiful lyrics!)
Favorite Line: "The plot sucks, but the killings are gorgeous" (so reminiscent of a day I had quite recently)
Best Song for Developing Empathy: Delirium ('Cause I am that naive- a myriad of bright ideas)

Anticlimax, thy name is COMMUTE. How am I supposed to adjust to this monotony after being wild and free and shooting things? (Not alive things. Seriously.)
It it were not for music, I would die. "Music, the mosaic of the air." (That is a line from a high school choir song that I really liked). I picked up this CD on a whim at the library, because it had a whimsical cover. I didn't expect to love it or anything, or completely identify with the band.
But that is exactly what happened! And I also enjoy the lead singer's slightly throaty voice. I can't get enough of it.

Next time you are at your library, pick up something you normally wouldn't. You might be pleasantly surprised.

Take Me Out to the Shooting Range

2011-07-04T15:16:00.000-07:00

I sort of crashed my brother's "guys only" outing to the shooting range. But my Uncle Larry was insistent that I join them! Everyone was sort of surprised when I hit a few of the discs. I have to say, it was pretty fun.

Later we went to the Vale Rodeo in Oregon, a town over from where my grandma lives in Ontario. So I have this thick layer of gunpowder on me, then it is swiftly followed by a layer of manure from all the cows. Then there was a layer of smoke from all the Marlboro men at the rodeo. Needless to say, a shower was totally in order at the end of that day.

The rodeo had this event called the "Suicide Race". Beside the arena is this vast, steep mountain. When we got there, everyone is staring up this mountain. So we look up. These men on horses come flying over the mountain, just neck and neck. Just like the Man from Snowy River. Except scary, because it is real. They come down the mountain and then their horses jump in this big river. They swim across and they race towards the finish line. The men are whacking each other with their riding crops.

There are no rules!

Nothing like being a good old country girl, is there?

Special thanks to Lyndsay, my sis-in-law, for lightening my photo.

Who's your Daddy now?
-Jane Smith

Lemon Verbena Sachets

2011-06-17T16:14:00.000-07:00


Although Lemon Verbena is an herb, and no relation to citrus, I sewed a lemon on the side of the sachet, because it smells just like fresh lemon zest.


Beads and ribbon make anything pretty.


This is my Lemon Verbena herb plant. It almost smells better dried than fresh, which makes it ideal for sachets.

At the risk of losing my four followers, I must admit I am a fan of the book, Gone with the Wind. Yes, it is filled with ridiculous ideas about everything, not to mention the rampant inequality displayed in every page. But rising above all that, to me, is the inescapable grace and charm of the idea of a "great lady". The embodiment of this is Ellen O'Hara, Scarlett's mother. Scarlett is happy to picture her, in her mind, as the Virgin Mary. Everything is better, just by her walking in the room.
Ellen is like a soft breeze that floats through the air, brightening and freshening every dusty corner of the earth she graces. Like Scarlett, I aspire to be like her, but fall far from it. But one thing that I can reenact about Ellen is the Lemon Verbena sachet she carries in her skirts, always. Not that I plan on donning large hoop skirts and a corset. This particular sachet is actually a gift, after going to the store and discovering I couldn't afford any of the gifts I wanted to give as a thank you present to my sister (possibly because I was shopping at AJ's).
The idea that I could make her a Lemon Verbena Sachet gift instead, which would be personal and smell better than anything purchased at the store, kept popping up in my head. I had never done it before, and had no guide except a few Internet tips, so I was a little shy about it.
But trust me when I say, the process was simple and fun, and the results, spectacular. I can't stop smelling my little sachet. It is like Ellen O'Hara is in this very room with me. In fact, I'm not sure I'll be able to part with it....

Instructions for Lemon Verbena Sachet

1) Line your favorite pan with parchment paper. For one sachet, two long sprigs of fresh Lemon Verbena will do. Snip these from your plant. Your plant will be healthier, anyway, if it is regularly harvested.
2) Heat your oven to 200 degrees. Place Verbena in the lined pan, and bake for 1 hour. Leave in the hot oven until dried, about one hour more.
3) Cut one piece of muslin (about 5 x 5"), and embellish with beads and fabric, using a needle and a small embroidery hoop if you desire.
4) Fold edges of fabric over twice, press a crease with fingernails, and sew edges together to prevent frays. I used a sewing machine, but you can also do this by hand.
5) Fold the top of the sachet over again and sew, making a space for the ribbon.
6) Put right sides together, and sew, leaving a 1" seam.
7) Turn sachet right side out. Thread a needle with ribbon in a favorite color. I used Apple Green, because it seemed to match the brightness of the scent. Using pliers, pull the needle and ribbon through the fabric. Continue to pull the needle through the fabric until it goes all the way around the top.
8) Crumble the Lemon Verbena with fingers. I chose not to use the stems, because they could be pokey, and if you choose to put your sachet under your pillow, you don't want to have a painful sleep. I mixed the Verbena with some Basmati Rice as filler, because you would need a great deal of it to fill up even a small sachet. The rice gives it a nice weight, and the smell is so subtle, it doesn't interfere with the lemon.
9) Pull your ribbon tight and tie a pretty bow. Enjoy your sachet in your purse, in your dryer, under your pillow, or in your lingerie drawer. This also makes a personal, fragrant, inexpensive gift.

Happiest Place on Earth

2011-06-11T20:11:00.000-07:00

Take notice, take interest, take me with you.

~Dashboard Confessional

Pan expresses interest in joining the expedition to California. My brother is graduating after two arduous years at AFI, prestigious film school! Unfortunately, our race is not so evolved that kitties are welcome in environments such as hotels, theme parks, and cars.

I really love all these people! My niece and nephew were such troopers. I felt so lucky to be there for their first trip to Disneyland!

Hey- Wes and Lynds match! That is so cute.

I don't think anyone channeled the spirit of Jack Sparrow as well as Finn. Johnny Depp has some serious competition. When not challenging fellow visitors to a duel, he was shouting, "YO HO YO HO A PIRATES LIFE FOR ME!!!"

I don't think that drum player is cheesy enough. He needs to work on that.

Well, I can't blame him. I have to admit, it would be the best thing ever to work at Disneyland.

You'd be surprised how many adults were in line for that silly little Alice in Wonderland ride. I mean, I was. There is something about riding in caterpillars and teacups...

Quel tourist! My mom couldn't resist the Minnie ears. And if you look closely at my scarf, the polka dots are shaped like Mickey.

Being at Disneyland brought back memories. Like once, I went there with my choir group. And then when we were watching the Fantasmic light show, all my friends ditched me, except this guy I barely knew. Then all the sudden, he was putting his arm around me from behind. I was freaking out, because I didn't know him. But later, I ended up falling for him hard core. So, guys, if you are ever at Disneyland watching the light show, it is okay to use a little boldness. But only if it is during the light show. Preferably the fireworks.

""Disneyland will never be completed. It will continue to grow as long as there is imagination left in the world." ~ Walt Disney"

Summer Styles & Boo Boos

2011-06-04T19:31:00.000-07:00

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up.
~Taylor Swift

Why can't these come in my size?
All I want is soft, easy, floral and frilly.

By the by, I totally had to pay for my completely saucy last post. I never get away with anything. (Pout)

Me and kitty Pan were out skating. It was night. We were having a great ride, just around the hood. But it was late, and I had worked all day. Or I think my right skate was loose. (Oh sure. Blame the skate.)

Anyways, we were going around a corner and my wheel caught on a crack or something. All the sudden, I was moving sideways through space, and the stroller was coming with me. It was ugly. We went down. Stroller and all.

Poor Pan. She's so brave. She just shook it off, although it must have been highly traumatizing for her. My wounds include large red abrasions on both knees, my shoulder feels somewhat dislocated, and my left pinkie is scraped and bruised.

Yeah, we got knocked down.

But we got up again.

And that is the only thing that matters.

"Oh! How heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards him. For herself, she was humbled; but she was proud of him- proud that in a case of compassion and honour, he had been able to get he better of himself."
~Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudicie

Panty Skating

2011-05-30T11:31:00.000-07:00

This looks kind of fun to me.....

The other day, I went to visit my sister-in-law, Kimmy.

I was looking at J-Crew catalog, and she was shopping online on Old Navy. Mommy was frying some zucchini in the background. (mmmmmm)

I just thought I would set the stage.

Then Kimmy asked me what I did that day. She asked if I cleaned house, because I am always cleaning house, due to stinky bunny and kitty. (Obviously I love them.) I said No! I worked out. I was very proud of this, as it is very easy to drop one's workout routine while living in the big, bad, real world.

"First, I did ballet, then took Panny skating..." (Panny is my cat- she has lots of knicknames)

Kimmy laughed and said, "What is panty skating?"

So, of course I had to go along with it and say, "It's a new sport."

So, I was referring to my cat, but I fear this pass time will always be referred to in my family as "panty skating". Basically, what panty skating entails is me strapping on my roller skates and tossing my kitty, Pan, into her stroller. Then we hit the road. I can't tell you how fun it is. Pan actually has a real affinity for speed. One night she came home and threw up, like that time I went on the Gravatron one too many times. But I think that might have been from the food coloring in the new food I bought her. Because she just wants to go right back out and do it again.

Between her stroller and my roller skates, we have 12 wheels. We get a lot of looks. I guess people aren't used to seeing that type of thing. But we kind of create our own roller coaster, or train, and we go really fast on declines. Not so fast on inclines.

I used to wreck a lot on my skates, but now with those extra four wheels, I'm pretty stable.

Win win!!!!

A princess should always wear panties.

~Meg Cabot

Apple Walnut Date Pie

2011-05-15T13:46:00.000-07:00

What do you do when you wake up in the mood for Wildflower Cafe's apple pie with currants, but you don't want to get out of your pajamas for the whole morning? You get creative. Lucky for me, I had apples on hand. But no currants. Hmmm. I know! Use dates instead! Dates have this rich, deep sweetness, and I just learned that in ancient times, honey was derived from dates that had been allowed to ripen more than usual, then extracted. It was not from bees at all. Now you know. (Hopefully my sources are accurate)

Something old- antique tray- something fresh- pretty green apples- something foreign- Danish crystal candle holder- and something tiny- teacup.

Maybe I did get a little crazy with the spices. Ginger, cloves, allspice, cinnamon, nutmeg, and just the tiniest pinch of cardamom. But it worked. It worked really well. Oh and don't forget the lemon zest and juice. Really brightens the flavor. Then add sugar- some people favor brown, but white works just fine too.

Tuck those apples into the soft dough. I'm enjoying this oval baker from AJ's. Tiny pie is just my size.

Drizzle with butter and pretty sugar. The butter is necessary because... because it just is.

Bake 45 minutes @ 350 degrees. (I always have to spell out degrees because I can't find it on my keyboard.)

Just nothing like a homemade pie.

Oh I got pony plates!

There are three more and they are so sweet.

Before peeling the apples, I indulged in a girlish tradition- twisting the stems and saying the alphabet to find out who I love. Or who loves me. On both apples, I got J. How did they know? How did the apples know about my crush on Justin Bieber? So wrong! but I defy anyone to watch his cover of Chris Brown's "With You" and not fall at least a little in love with him. Impossible.

"If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe." -- Carl Sagan

La La's Talent Show

2011-05-13T13:33:00.000-07:00

Me & my niece Lauren choreographed this little number the night before the talent show! She's pretty amazing... she totally cued me a couple of times when I forgot what we had done.
I hope you enjoy this... we had fun doing it. I was surprised what a rush I got from performing, even though it was just a little classroom full of eight year olds. I know, I know, no such thing as "just".

I'm just preparing my impromptu remarks.
Winston Churchill

Eating My Words... Tastes Like Fish

2011-05-07T11:46:00.000-07:00

Tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth.
_Sheryl Louise Moller

As of late, I have been looking for ways to increase my brain power. There are so many seemingly insurmountable problems everywhere- at work, on the mainland, abroad. We could all use a little brain power right now, is my thinking. Creativity: solving problems in new ways. Problems are opportunities. I love thinking. Virginia Wolf once said, "One cannot sleep well, think well, live well, if one has not dined well." But what does that entail?

I have many happy memories of living on a boat in the summer on Lake Powell every year with my family. It was, looking back, rather idyllic. We turned brown, like the Indians that used to live in the cliffs of the lake. We got thick soles on our feet from climbing on the sandstone. We learned to jet ski, wake board, fish, and of course, the fine art of tanning. We listened to the best music: U2, the Cars, the Eagles. Okay, so I hate the Eagles. But somehow, under the stars at night sleeping on top of the boat, they don't sound so bad.

And every day, we found some time to hole up in the basement and watch movies. My cousin, Mindy, and I were stuck like glue together. We actually did apply our hands together with super glue at one time, but that is another story. One of our favorite movies was The Burbs. One summer, we watched it like every day. We thought it was the funniest movie ever. Especially when the weird guy who lives next to Tom Hank's character offers them a plate and goes, "Sardines?"

I don't know why we thought this was so funny. But we would just roll around the basement of the house boat, laughing every time.

So this morning, I was doing some research on brain food, and connecting that research with what I have in the pantry. You guessed it. Sardines. I never, ever have eaten sardines. The only reason I even have sardines in my pantry is because I saw a fox in my backyard, and my mom wanted to make it our pet. So she brought over sardines to feed it.

So anyways, staring at the sardines (I put them on some crackers to make them more palatable), I wondered if I could bring myself to eat them. I thought of all the times I made fun of that weird guy offering his neighbors sardines, and how even though he was really weird, it still wasn't very nice of me. So, then, this was my comeuppance. (An English term, I believe, for karma.) But I was determined to do it. Because I had to know if it really increases brain power. And my body is my laboratory. I mean, there is no way to really know unless you try.

I ate the sardines. Not very many of them, it is true, but a few cracker's worth. I chased it down with some juice and a Black Raspberry Godiva truffle. (This coincides with my theory of: every nice deserves a naughty. Nothing too naughty. I mean, I've heard of worse things than truffles.) Which reminds me of another movie I like.

"You and your truffles... present a far lesser challenge." Ah. Someone who underestimated a woman and her chocolate. Big mistake. (Note how I could have used an image of chocolate here, but instead chose Johnny Depp. Not a mistake.)

So, you probably want to know how my brain power is doing. I have to say, it's feeling pretty good. I mean, my niece Lauren wants me to dance in her talent show with her, and I am actually excited about it. Huh. It's gotta be the sardines.

"Lock up your libraries if you like, but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind."

— Virginia Woolf

Funny Face

2011-05-01T10:47:00.000-07:00

Pan is SILLY

I am SILLY

I miss Lola.

"I have; and a quick eye, and a quick brain."

"You need them all in your trade."

"I do; especially when I've customers like you to deal with. Why don't you tremble?"

"I'm not cold."

"Why don't you turn pale?"

"I am not sick."

"Why don't you consult my art?"

"I'm not silly."

The old crone "nichered" a laugh under her bonnet and bandage; she then drew out a short black pipe, and lighting it, began to smoke. Having indulged a while in this sedative, she raised her bend body, took the pipe from her lips, and while gazing steadily at the fire, said very deliberately-

"You are cold; you are sick; you are silly."

~Jane Eyre

Her Name Was Lola....

2011-04-25T13:15:00.000-07:00

...she was a puppy.

Sometimes people, and animals, come into our lives for a short time. Even if the time is very short, we are much richer for having known them.
Such is the story of Lola. I was driving to work... c'est ma vie... and I saw her, near a busy street, all alone. I exclaimed, "Oh no!" For I hate to see a pet without an owner, and there was no one around.
I pulled over forthwith, and she raced towards me! I put her in my car, and even though it made me exceeeeeeedingly late for work, I set her up in a room with some water and a blanket (my favorite blanket, but hey, she'd had a tough day).
Arriving home late that night, I did not know what to expect when I got home. I mean, my bunny and kitty are often full of surprises, and now there was a chihuahua thrown into the mix... but there was Lola, quiet as a mouse, curled up on the pink plushy blanket where I left her.
I stayed up late cleaning off an old bunny cage- yes, I happen to have an old bunny cage in my garage- and outfitting it with newspaper, doggie food from a kind coworker, water, and my favorite blanket (I really need to balance my emotions when it comes to pets).
But before sweet slumber overtook us all, some chaos erupted. I brought Lola out into the kitchen. She started eating my kitty, Marzipan's, food, and drinking her water. Marzipan bristled up like a baby bottle brush, hissing and spitting and like three times her normal size, due to all that hair sticking straight out. Lola just wanted to be friends, and completely ignored the menacing sounds emitting from my cat, nearly getting clawed in the face and possibly eaten.
Then, out of nowhere, there was this scorpion. It looked like it fell of of Lola, and so there was this crazed little dog, an enraged cat, and this scorpion scuttling around, and I was tired and at my very limit. Thus, I screamed, and screamed loudly.
Later, when the scorpion was removed and we were all cozy in our beds, I heard a crunching noise. I arose to find that while Lola preferred Pan's cat food, it appeared that Pan preferred Lola's dog food. She had pulled the little plastic bag out, torn it open, and was eating heartily. I mean, who'd have thunk?
Well, a few wild incidents and some missing poster hanging later, I got a call from Lola's owners, and our adventure was over. I was sad to part with her, but happy that she was reunited with a little girl who appeared to love her very much.
Pan was not sad to part with her. She, in fact, celebrated with much vigor.

“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.”

Mother Teresa

Sunburned and Satisfied

2011-04-15T19:17:00.000-07:00

"There's a few things I've learned in life: always throw salt over your left shoulder, keep rosemary by your garden gate, plant lavender for good luck, and fall in love whenever you can"

— William Shakespeare

There is a recipe in my family we call Gruyere Potatoes. Everyone loves this dish, even my brother, who complains about the little pools of grease the cheese makes. I mean, its just so satisfying. One's hunger is TRULY filled.
But I had never baked them properly. Not until today. Because I did not have the proper pan. But I got the proper pan for my birthday. One that evenly distributes the potatoes into a thin layer. This is very good news!!!
Why is this such good news? Because now, instead of just a few potatoes being covered in a cheesy crust, MANY potatoes can be covered in a cheesy crust. And that means more people will get potatoes with a cheesy crust. And that means more tummies will be TRULY satisfied. And the people belonging to those tummies will go on to do great things. Ask anyone.

Here are Le Potatoes Gruyere, ready to go into the oven.

There used to be this restaurant I loved called La Madeleine. This is where I got my recipe for Le Potatoes Gruyere. Unfortunately, they are no longer in business. At least, not that I know of. But I used to love to eat there. It was a bit like eating in a cave: well, a well-decorated cave. So cozy. Now it has been replaced by Five Guys, and while I really enjoy their amazing high-tech fountain with a million different kinds of soda... I still miss La Madeleine.
I did buy a La Madeleine cookbook before they went away. That is how I can recreate the feel of it in my own kitchen. I just need to find a way to make my house more cave-like.

My sister wanted to hike Camelback this morning. We went up the east trail, and I got the worst sunburn. Its really bad. And it is in the shape of my t-shirt, so I look ridiculous. But I read about a guy who used lavender to heal his burn, so I am going to try the same thing (lavender + bubble bath= no more sunburn ((I hope)).

Quite a fascinating story really:
http://www.ehow.com/info_8124735_calming-effects-lavender-oil.html

"ladies fair, I bring to you
lavender with spikes of blue;
sweeter plant was never found
growing on our english ground."
Caryl Battersby

Go Shorty...

2011-04-12T09:49:00.000-07:00

I'm a shorty, its my birthday.

I'm hoping this might be the year I lose the chubby cheeks. Ha!

What do you say to Godiva chocolate for breakfast? C'mon, just this once.

Pan's philosophy is, every day is her birthday. It seems to work for her.

Sweet!

My sister Ju always has a surprise up her sleeve.

“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.”

CS Lewis

Why it is Necessary to Soak

2011-04-03T21:03:00.000-07:00

Rummaging around my files (they are not a few), I came upon this poem I wrote some time ago:

Ode to Bath

Often necessary it is to retreat

Where I, and water, and bubbles all meet

And vapors my strained spirits relax

And waters so warm melt my body like wax

As you can see, bath time holds a tender place in my heart. And although I like the rounded contours of the bath pictured above, this one has a certain effect to it:

But water flowing down from that height can hardly hold its warm temperature. And unlike Buttercup, (see The Princess Bride- the book), I am not fond of cold baths. Actually, after watching this movie, I did take a cold bath:

Because I wanted to feel like a Selkie. But, I discovered that while a cold bath in the open sea might be romantic, indoors it is kind of anticlimactic. It took me forever to warm up, and there was no super-cute fisherman offering me a thick, dirty blanket that once belonged to his deceased mother. Ooooooooh, speaking of movies, I saw this today:

I liked it. If any of you have philosophical issues with the nature and existence of free will (and who doesn't?), you might want to check this out. And, if you happen to love absolute mush (like me), you might also want to check it out. Also, if you happen to find Matt Damon attractive on any level (who can dispute?), you might also consider giving this movie a watch.
I might add, Emily Blunt is a lovely dancer, and captures the essence of dance as a form of expression.

Here is why I like to take baths. It is the soaking action. I mean, you get sprayed off in the shower, but what if you have spent quality time in the dirt that day? Does a shower soak off the mud under your fingernails until it is dissolved? Does a shower make your skin kind of slippery like a dolphin's, and then soft like a baby's?

Don't get me wrong. There is a time and a place for showering. When the moment is right, I like nothing better. But the distinction between when to shower and when to bathe- now that is an art.

Next time, we'll talk scent. It can't all be covered at once.

And takin' a bath in the creek. That's the stuff that really made it worthwhile. Anybody can stay in a motel.
Chris LeDoux

A New Pianoforte

2011-03-25T12:58:00.000-07:00

The word piano is a shortened form of pianoforte, the...Italian word for the instrument. The musical terms "piano" and "forte" mean "quiet" and "loud," and in this context refers to the variations in volume of sound the instrument produces in response to a pianist's touch on the keys...

~Wikipedia

My sister-in-law, Lyndsay, inherited this lovely piano from her grandmother. This morning, it was delivered to my house for safe keeping.

I also got some tea in the mail from Cristen, Lyndsay's mom. This is my favorite tea in the whole world, and the company stopped making it. Imagine my surprise when Cristen gave me her last two boxes! I was very touched and delighted by her kindness.

A little note from Maya! (The scribe, however, may actually be her mom... or Maya is more developed than I thought!)

I feel just like Marianne in "Sense and Sensibility" when Colonel Brandon gives her a new pianoforte.
The funny thing is, I had a dream last night that I was dancing to Claire de Lune. I have had that song in my head all day.

Can I just say, this is Kate's greatest perfomance? After seeing this movie, I so wanted to be an English girl. And wear my hair in ringlets, and wraps, and stroll along the English countryside with hot guys like Willoughby.

Another depiction of a pianoforte: this is Jane Fairfax in "Emma". She is also given a pianoforte, by a mysterious person. It turns out to be Frank Churchill, whom she is engaged to, but no one knows.

Although the musical selections that came with my own pianoforte are a bit different from these ladies. Instead of Mozart, I have the sheet music of the Eagles, as well as U2. And I wear Betsey Johnson dresses as opposed to chiffon wraps. And modern hairstyles dictate that I must round brush my hair, instead of wrap it in cotton rollers every night.

No matter. I still feel totally connected to my heroines who played on their pianofortes.

..though sisters, and living almost within sight of each other, they could live without disagreement between themselves, or producing coolness between their husbands.
(Elinor and Marianne end up happily... )

~Jane Austen for Beginners (Sense and Sensibility)

A Princess Complex

2011-03-17T12:28:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite authors, Meg Cabot, has a princess complex, just like me.

But if you read her words discussing why the importance of princesses is grossly underestimated, you may be surprised.
Many myths exist about princesses, which she readily debunks.One such myth is, princesses always need a prince to rescue them. However, in all valuable stories about princesses, one usually observes them rescuing themselves.
Not once, not twice, but many times. From really bad guys.
Think about it.

So if you are wondering where you stand on the issue of princesses, do read this intruiging post.
You might decide that we really don't need princesses any more.

Or you might not.

http://www.megcabot.com/2010/12/the-princess-thing/

Only do what your heart tells you.

Princess Diana

Channeling Ma-lee-sa

2011-03-14T19:54:00.000-07:00

Tonight, while cooking brown rice, I got kind of bored.

Brown rice takes FOREVER to cook. It is absurd to cook it after a full day at work. Absurd. In fact, dinner has long disappeared, and I'm going to have to have the brown rice for dessert.

So when you are bored, don't you ever feel like trying to take a picture of your earring and ponytail? You would be surprised how difficult it can be to get one good shot of your earring and ponytail.

Its just that whenever I wear a ponytail with dangly earrings, I think of my favorite ballet teacher, Melissa. She had glorious fashion sense. Glorious. Always, as you may have guessed, wearing the highest ponytails and the dangliest earrings. So then I wonder, "Am I being a copy cat? Or is it okay to imitate someone I admired?" Whatever the answer is, I know I am still going to enjoy wearing dangly earrings and a ponytail.

Melissa came from Utah, and we were blessed to have her at my little studio. She would tell us stories of her Russian teachers, and how they pronounced her name "Ma-lee-sa" and do really funny imitations of them.

I miss her.

But I can still channel her via- of course- dangly earrings and ponytails.

Do you think my brown rice is done?

"Paris is always a good idea."
— Audrey Hepburn

Putting Together Panny's Ride

2011-02-20T20:24:00.000-08:00

Kitty paws on my knees (if you look closely). Pan likes to station herself on my lap just when she knows I have to get ready for work. She stations herself there so long, she leaves paw prints.

I love my kitty. I love how she snuggles up to me at night. I love how she can talk to me with her eyes.

I don't love leaving her behind whenever I go somewhere. Not all the Eskimo kisses in the world make up for her bondage, her total confinement to the indoors because of my fear that she will get run over.

So I went on Amazon to see if there were such a thing as a pet stroller to take her out in. Of course there was. Amazon has everything.

Now Pan has her own ride! We went on two walks today. We are already both feeling most healthy. But putting this stroller together was something else. I was already tired from shopping with my mom. I have never seen anyone shop like my mom. She is like that train in "Unstoppable." I have not her stamina, so I was tired. But the stroller had arrived! But kind of... unassembled.

So I sat down on the ground with the pieces of the stroller, and quickly realized I was on my own. The instructions were missing some vital clues, such as putting the wheels and the brakes together. After several attempts, I grew very angry. I was thinking of a scene from "Can't Buy Me Love" where Patrick Dempsey uses some very colorful language. I played it over and over in my mind, trying to fit this pin into tiny hole in the wheel where I guessed it needed to go, since it was nowhere to be found in the instructions.

After two hours of vicarious cursing and staring at this unfathomable device, I got some pliers and the pin magically slid into place.

I went to the park the next morning with Pan, very enthusiastic. Then I realized that while a kitty in a stroller might be at home in LA, it is somewhat of a novelty in my hometown. So I just had to accept the fact that people were going to mock me. But then there was the question of dogs. We rounded a corner, and two huge dogs were upon us. I braced myself for an attack. And guess what? They walked right on by. They didn't blink, smell Pan, tear open her stroller, or any of the bad things I thought were going to happen.

She's getting used to her walks now, and loves to get fresh air with me. I love it too, because its just funner to share the great outdoors with someone else. Even if it is a furry little bundle in a pink plaid stroller.

"I care not for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it."
~ Abraham Lincoln

Lovebirds & A Disembodied Voice

2011-02-07T10:24:00.000-08:00

This is a bird I believe goes by the name of "Peach-Faced Lovebird." I first saw one in my neighbor's backyard, eating some sunflower seeds. I'm not a spy or anything, but the sunflower was tall enough for me to see. I thought, "What is a tropical bird of such magnificent color doing in Mesa, AZ?"
Later, talking to my friend who used to work at a zoo and who knows a vast deal about many species, I learned that a migration had occurred and these birds now frequent this area.
This morning, as I put gas in my car, I noticed a Mesquite tree full of these pretty little birds. Their cry is very distinctive. There were more than a dozen in the tree, and I watched them for a while, enjoying the morning sunshine.
Suddenly, this strange voice with a heavy accent came over the speaker next to the little screen where you put your credit card. It was a male voice, and he sounded like he was of Middle Eastern descent.
"You put diesel in your car?"
Unsure of what to do, I sort of slid up to the speaker and went, "Uh, yeah."
"You sure? Your car takes diesel?"
At this, I began to take umbrage. I mean, I love guys. I love everything about them. Except the part where they assume I don't have a brain. I mean, I know the difference between regular and diesel fuel. And this is not the first time I have been approached at the gas station by a guy asking me if I was putting the right kind of fuel in my car. Although that was an actual physical encounter, not a disembodied voice who's source was undefinable. Obviously he could see me, from the depths of the convenient store, but I couldn't see him.
After answering him a third time in a slightly heated voice that my car does indeed take diesel fuel, he was quiet, and everyone else at the station was looking at me like, "Why is she carrying on a conversation with the speaker? Who does that?" And my bird-watching reverie was pretty much spoiled.
Then the voice comes back. It sounded like,
"We take your car?"
Which made me think he wanted to borrow my car. Things get muddled, you know, over speakers.
I said, "Excuse me?" again in a heated voice. He repeated himself.
"What year is your car?"
So I told him, as well as the precise location of the dealership in Chandler where it came from, the approximate price, and how many miles it gets to the gallon. And everyone is continuing to stare at me, and all my little lovebirds have probably flown away. But I am starting to enjoy the conversation, and it is kind of fun to talk back and forth on the speaker by the screen.
Then my car is all gassed up and I must go. I tell him good luck, as he has confided in me that he is looking for the perfect car.
I might need a little luck too, trying to find a quote that matches this story... it might just be creepy.

(actually, no problem, thanks to Google)

Why do birds sing in the morning? It's the triumphant shout: "We got through another night!"
Enid Bagnold

But calm, white calm, was born into a swan.
Elizabeth Coatsworth

Be like the bird in flight . . . pausing a while on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, yet sings knowing yet, that she has wings.
Victor Marie Hugo

Domestic Rapture

2011-02-04T11:28:00.000-08:00

This morning, I eagerly anticipated the arrival of my new tables. I splurged on some furniture recently, and my mom tossed in a coffee table and side table. Voila!
So, I know you want the story of how my furniture found me. It was Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and my exciting plans included taking my car to be serviced and riding the shuttle over to the mall. The driver of the shuttle bus and I got along swimmingly, as he was a collector of old books. When I told him I was a librarian (sort of), he delved into a long description of his acquisitions and we rode merrily over to Scottsdale Fashion Square.
I admit at this time, I had grown weary of shopping. I felt as though I had done nothing but shop for three months straight. I wandered about the mall in a state of absolute disinterest. But it was better than sitting in the lobby of the Volkswagon dealership, I had to admit.
I was about to step upon the escalator, when something seemed to attract my attention. It was the store Z Gallery, and it seemed to sparkle and beckon me like a lighthouse. I never go into that store, but the lure was undeniable.
And there she was. Like a double cherry pie, yeah there she was. Like disco super fly. The prettiest couch in a soft sea foam velvet finish. I collapsed onto it instantly, like my cat on her kitty condo. I must have wiggled around that couch for a good half hour before the salesman saw that I was not leaving. He was like, "Can I help you?"
I looked him deeply in the eyes and said, "I..... need this couch." He was all nods and fabric samples. Before I knew it, it was a done deal and this morning, the finishing touches arrived. Except the feathers. I must go back for the feathers.
Then I cleaned up my chandelier, which was dingy in the extreme. It all looked so pretty, I had to take a video. While listening to Vampire Weekend and talking on the phone to my mom. Although Vampire Weekend shares my affinity for pretty lights. I know, because I went to their concert and there were FIVE! And that is when I became their fan for life. Even if their next album is crap.
I just don't care.

Speaking of domestic rapture, here is a link to a site run by two ladies who know a thing or two about making cleaning glamorous. I can't live without them.

http://www.thelaundress.com/ThingsWeLove/index.asp

Does it Really Exist?

2011-01-30T11:09:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I reminisce about when I lived in Utah. The first winter snow was exquisite, and so far from my native experience that it always felt like a fluffy white dream.

One of my less elegant traits is a tendency to run when excited. One of the first mornings of my very own first snow, I started running on the sidewalk. Then I hit ice, and wet FLYING through the air. I stared up at the sky, confused as to how I came to be in my current position. 

Fortunately, I wore a big, nerdy backpack, because I was the type that always took at least 18 credit hours. It cushioned my fall. 

From that time forward, I enjoyed the feel and look of snow at a cautious walk...

Source of artwork:
http://www.newenglandartwork.com/Artwork.htm

Snowmen fall from heaven... unassembled. ~Author Unknown
(quotegarden.com)

I Like... (and possibly love)... This post-Holiday Season

2011-01-22T11:17:00.000-08:00

People dance because dance can change things. One move, can bring people together. One move, can make you believe like there's something more. One move, can set a whole generation free.

~Step Up 3

Going the see the Nutcracker with my niece. Christmas does not feel like Christmas at all when I don't see the Nutcracker. But when I come out of Symphony Hall after witnessing snowflakes, and flowers, and a Dew Drop, and large Mouse King being slain by a doll who cracks nuts for people, the whole world changes and is filled with Christmas magic. That's just how it is for me.

My brother. Okay, so he falls into the love category. He's such a joy and a delight.

Guys working on my yard. I mean, my garden. This is one the most beautiful sights in the world.

When you go to the mall to buy your nephew some little Toy Story figurines, and end up buying a velvet sea foam couch as well.

I always find my favorite things when not looking for them.

These guys delivered my couch, and I was so happy, because I had this empty space for so long. Then when I shut the door behind them, I heard them imitating my high voice. In other words, making fun of me! Oh well. They didn't smell very good, if they want to be mean.

This book! Virginia's aunt has died, but left her a mysterious package with 13 "little blue envelopes". Each one contains a challenge for her, such as becoming a "mysterious benefactor" by finding a starving artist and giving him/her money, and traveling to Rome to make the "Vestal Virgins" and offering. Her journey is filled with wonder... and magic.

This movie! It is a celebration of love, of life, of dance.

I took it home from the library- the source of all my free entertainment- and watched it as soon as I got home. Okay, so I fed the bunny and the kitty first. Then I watched it. Open mouthed. Slack jawed. Then I watched it again! Yes, double feature. Same movie. Only the second time, I danced along. Because it is very hard for me to hear music and not move.

Last but certainly not least, the glorified yucca, adorned with Christmas ornaments that twinkle merrily in the sun.

"Go see old virgins! Now ask a strange boy out, you shy, retarded thing!"
— Maureen Johnson (13 Little Blue Envelopes)

The Little Papaya

2011-01-11T09:38:00.000-08:00

Is this not the quintessential Christmas photo? This is Maya, my niece and some say, my look-a-like. Although I see quite a lot of her mom, Lyndsay, in her.

Who can resist that exuberance as she steals all of the other children's balloons so she can steal the show from Wes, who is patiently reading from the New Testament in the background? Pigtails flying, she is the embodiment of Christmas joy.

Lyndsay calls her "the little Papaya", because it rhymes with Maya, and because she's so sweet.

I have more Christmas pictures to post- but this one is my favorite.

Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful. ~Norman Vincent Peale

In Winter it's a Marshmallow World

2010-12-18T18:33:00.000-08:00

This is the Candy Cane headpiece I wore to work today! kind of fun....

Flawed Willi

2010-12-17T11:17:00.000-08:00

Katie Melua is great music to listen to if you are working on Christmas crafts. Mellow, sweet, and a little melancholy, she puts you in a dream-like state.

Its interesting to me how crafts, like my doll, take on a life of their own. I was planning on dressing her in pink floral brocade. But when it came to the point of picking out fabric, she seemed to be telling me that all she really wanted was tulle. I will add a few more layers, but tulle really does suit her complexion.

She kind of looks like she could dance in the ballet Giselle with all that tulle. Giselle is a ballet that takes place mostly in a grave yard. The ghosts of girls that died from broken hearts haunt that particular graveyard. They are called Willis. It is very ethereal, with all that white, a lovely ballet. Although maybe more of a Halloween theme than Christmas. Unless you are having Halloween on Christmas, like the Blink 182 song. And of course the movie.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything,
That's how the light gets in.
~Leonard Cohen

Pets and Projects

2010-12-14T10:28:00.000-08:00

Theo is such an interesting pet. His ears change colors in the winter. This rhythm with nature fascinates me. Even indoors, in the middle of the desert, his ears still know when to change color.

Then, in the summertime, they shed all the dark gray, and become a pretty light pink.

This is why every one should go to the bunny shelter and adopt a bunny! Actually, it is no joke cleaning up after a bunny. But he's so peaceful, and soft, and really blesses my life (so cheesy, but true!)

My Granny Wink (as we call her) always made me handmade gifts as a little girl. Of course, I never fully appreciated them then, but now that I take up my little embroidery hoop and needle, I do now. This is Pan and my first doll: she's looking so cute so far, I'm totally in love with her. She's for one of my nieces. Of course she'll need a dress. Wish me luck!

~Happiness is not in the mere possession of money; it lies in the joy of achievement, in the thrill of the creative effort.
We should consider every day lost, on which we have not danced at least once. - Friedrich Nietzsche

Playing in My Ride

2010-12-07T11:59:00.000-08:00

When you commute a lot, music becomes very important. I get very lonely if I can't sing along to something. Thus the new Rattlethecages feature, "Playing in My Ride."
Currently, the new Maroon 5 Cd is what I am rocking out to. I find that not only can I get pumped up in the morning with this versatile blend of tunes, I can also unwind at the end of the day. I mean, it's a commuter's fondest dream.
A few years ago, some Maroon 5 tickets fell into my hands. I grabbed a boy, and went to the concert. I'll never forget Adam Levine, bouncing around in his white tee and jeans. I have had a crush on him since. He totally wooed me. Such energy! Such rhythm!
And at times, such heartfelt passion. Its as if you can see into his very soul.

I hope you've enjoyed "Playing in My Ride", a series I hope to continue to share. For there are many, many worthy bands out there.

I feel like I know you
As well as I know the sun
So please tell me,
Where is my sunshine now?
~Maroon 5

An Arizona Thanksgiving

2010-11-26T10:24:00.000-08:00

May I please add some text? Thanks for the text! (Blog is giving me a hard time).

I know, I know, enough with the childhood stories. We want PICTURES!!!!

This is my mom, Jinx, and Maggie, my niece. Cutie the bombs! My mom makes the most unbelievably delicious rolls every year. This year we innovated, and made some raspberry
butter to go with them. Also, her stuffing is what I equate with C.S. Lewis's "Turkish Delight" (for those of you who are Narnia fans). Positively addictive.

This is Price, Rex, and Owen.
Really precious, really fun guys.

Fortunately I have a number of adorable subjects to photograph. This is Lane, my niece. Somehow or other, she goes by the name "Boppie." Is it just me, or is she getting super, super, super cute?

Kimmy, sister-in-law, leading a round of "Pin the Hat on the Turkey". She wins my blog's award for "Cutest Outfit" this year. If only you could see her boots. Oh my gosh.

Ethan, Maggie, Brinkley. Sitting on the fence, what better way to spend a Thanksgiving day? This is the last you will see of Brinkley's long hair for a while.

There it goes! Krissy gives a stylish cut to our young, fearless maiden. Speaking of hair and fearless young maidens, we also got to go see Tangled! The new Disney movie. I really loved it. And there are not many movies worth risking the Thanksgiving crowd for, and fighting over seats for, not to mention parking, but this was one of them. So funny and so sweet!

Me and Maggie. She is following in her Aunt Tiffy's shoes, and spent the whole time reading "Fabelhaven"! That is so something I would have done if I could have gotten away with it.

We'll wrap it up with a sweet smile from Boppie. Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good.... turkey. And turkey leftovers. And addictive stuffing, aka, Turkish Delight. Or, if you're like me and have a cold, chicken noodle soup!

“Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our thanksgiving.”

~W. T. Purkiser

Scorpions & Such

2010-11-17T19:42:00.000-08:00

I am the only person I know who actually liked this movie! I tend to dig anything set in ancient times. Even if the female's outfit is completely inadequate for a trek through the desert.

Yesterday I found my cat, Panny, playing with a scorpion in the garage! Being an overprotective pet owner, I screamed, scooped her up, and returned her to the safety of the house. She immediately wanted to go back to the garage, where she was enjoying a little unexpected excitement. Then I figured, hey, if she can survive those immunity shots they gave her (even though she got a terrible fever), she can probably survive a sting from a scorpion. So I let her back out, and tried not to think about it.

I myself am a scorpion sting survivor. I still remember the first time I was stung. I was in third grade. Sitting on the piano bench, I felt a pang in my hand, and then an uncomfortable warmth spreading through my fingers. That would be poison. I lifted up my hand, where the scorpion was hanging by his little stinger. I screamed like a Banshee, and began to run circular laps around the house. Famous for my tantrums as a child, no one was too surprised, but when it had gone on long enough, my brother Eddie efficiently tackled me. Of course, the running had caused the poison to spread, but no one had informed me of this as yet in my education.

I spent the day at school with a scribe, someone who did all my writing for me, as my writing hand was temporarily paralyzed. Indeed. The scorpion was small, and I could not use my hand because of its potent injection.

Speaking of scorpions, my mom is a Scorpio. We celebrated her birthday this week. Oh what a night. I made Chocolate Chip cupcakes. And we had pizza and watched Mulan. My nieces dressed up in some of the costumes I made forever ago. It makes me feel good that they still love to use them. Belly dancers, rock stars, French muses.... they can think of a million ways to put together all those random costume pieces!

Speaking of French muses, I recently watched the latest Barbie installment. It is really hard to get Barbie down, but this story presents some challenges even for her! Fortunately, there is always Paris, and pretty dresses. And puffy poodles. Unfortunately, there were no scorpions to liven it up. But there were a few zombies. Curious? Check it out at your local library. If they are not cool enough to carry shows like these..... time to move to Scottsdale!

Happy Wednesday, and watch out for scorpions coming in from the cold.

"Because we focused on the snake, we missed the scorpion."
~Egyptian Proverb

Time for a Vote

2010-11-12T10:10:00.000-08:00

It appears actresses are being cast at this very moment for the 3rd installation of the newest Batman series. I am fond of these movies, as the web address of my blog readily attests.

I personally would like to see Rachel Weisz as the love interest, and Anne Hathaway as the villainess. I think Christian Bale looks much better opposite a brunette don't you? (This has nothing to do with me being brunette).

http://blog.moviefone.com/2010/11/11/dark-knight-rises-batman-casting-actresses/

Stiff competition, I must say!

The Fair is a Veritable Smorgasbord

2010-11-10T18:24:00.000-08:00

My mom thinks I'm super weird because I can still sing the song about the fair from Charlotte's Web, even though I haven't seen it since I was a wee child. I mean the ORIGINAL Charlotte's Web. Not that the new one isn't good. It fully wrung tears from me.

But who can forget Templeton's delight, as he stuffs himself on Funnel cake and corn dogs? Not I. It is this childish delight in simple pleasures that makes me long for the fair, even though I eat food designed to kill me and inhale a vast deal of second hand smoke. And ride rides that may or may not be safe.

This is an account of this year's trip to the fair! I went with a wonderful person, who indulged me in riding the Sky Rider, a terrifying version of the Yo-yo. We went to the petting zoo, where I was stalked by a llama, just like in Emperor's New Groove. And baby goats ate at the lace on my Betsey Johnson dress, like little fish. I had my first Funnel cake, and I have to say, it is by no means overrated! We saw the World's Largest Gator, Smallest Horse, and Biggest Pig (or so the man taking our money said). There was a ginormous sand sculpture, fried Snickers (gross!), and a corn dog for me (my weakness).

Then for La Grande Wheel, where there may or may not have been kissing. Then, unfortunately, I chose a ride that made my date sick. I seem to have a knack for that. But watching kiddie rides was a fun remedy. Especially the free fall that ranged about 10 feet in height. Too funny!

What is there not to love about the fair? Let's see if I can find a good fair quote.

Oh my gosh I found one! Its so true.

If you ever start feeling like you have the goofiest, craziest, most dysfunctional family in the world, all you have to do is go to a state fair. Because five minutes at the fair, you'll be going, 'you know, we're alright. We are dang near royalty.'
Jeff Foxworthy

Eat, Drink and Be Scary

2010-10-31T20:13:00.000-07:00

"You've poisoned me for the last time, you wretched girl."
~The Nightmare Before Christmas

Quel Halloween! I've never had so many Trick or Treaters in my life! I completely ran out of candy. I tried turning out all my lights as a hint, but they just kept coming! And coming! I had to start passing out these Trader Joe's cookies my neighbors brought over for me.

Is is just me, or do the fairies just keep getting cuter every year? I was a fairy this year. And a cowgirl. I dressed up on two occasions at work. All for the kids of course. I don't find any pleasure in it at all. :)

Simple Spider Wreath!

So this lady today asked me, "Are you Tinkerbell?"

"But isn't Tinkerbell kind of... green?" I replied.

"Well... she's kind of aqua, actually."

I kept quiet, but inside I was thinking, There is NO blue in Tinkerbell's dress. It is 100%, through and through GREEN!

So, I tried to drive today with my wings on. Getting in my car was an interesting experience! And then driving was a challenge, with my wings blocking my vision. I guess I could have taken them off, but they were in JUST the right place.

Lots of hair glitter from Claire's completes the Blue Fairy!
Oh I love Halloween!

Witch and ghost make merry on this last of dear October’s days.
~Author Unknown

Over-Stimulated City Girl

2010-10-27T12:00:00.000-07:00

A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral.

~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Flight to Arras, 1942

Last night I couldn't sleep. Nothing new, but this time it was because my heel was throbbing. Even SUPERCUTE new boots have their price.

You see, I had to get the perfect cupcake liners. No one notices these things but me, but of course it brings me a sense of satisfaction. But Sur la Table, the home of perfect cupcake liners, was surrounded by construction. I had to park at Barney's, and walk, in my new boots, quite a distance to get to Sur la Table. While I was enjoying showing off my SUPERCUTE new boots to all the people in their cars, stuck in traffic due to construction, I started to notice a big pain in my heel. Which I knew, from years of wearing point shoes, would turn into a ooey gooey blister. Cupcake liners, however, took precedence over pain.

Later, meeting my niece Lauren at the park for some roller skating, I realized that my skates would contribute to my foot wound considerably, unless I could find a band-aid, fast. I silently cursed my lack of preparedness, thinking of all the Hello Kitty and Barbie band-aids I had at home. Just when I was about to fall into despair, I spotted something very interesting on Lauren's arm. A band-aid. A Tweety Bird band-aid.

As luck would have it, she had just gotten a shot. It took some convincing, for children are especially fond of their band-aids, but I showed her my blister and she relinquished her band-aid to the cause of my foot wound. Thus, I was able to skate in relative serenity. But it still hurt. Lauren, who is fearless on her skates, seemed to do okay, even with the loss of Tweety.

Later that night, I was exfoliating and I came across four long scratches right on my bum. These scratches are a great source of confusion to me. The obvious suspect is, of course, Pan, my kitty. She sleeps with me. But I just can't imagine not waking up while she takes a swipe at my bum in the night, leaving these six-inch markings on my bum. They are kind of the same distance apart as her claws. The markings, I mean. But I cast my mind about for any other explanations.

A very macabre story came to mind. About the true story of a boy I read about in the library who was possessed. His parents were taking him to a priest in St. Louis to rid him of the spirit. The night before they were leaving, the spirit wrote "No Louis" on his back in scratches.

Pretty scary, huh? So imagine how scary it is when this thought strikes you late at night, in the shower, and you have unexplained scratches on your bum! VERY uncomfortable feeling. I hope this is not too scary for my many readers who visit my blog. But it is Halloween.

Recently, I bought my bunny a chew toy with noise makers in the middle. They are two walnuts that make clacking noises when the bunny chews on the toy, and this entertains the bunny. When he was done, Pan, who gets in his cage, started playing with the walnuts. They became her favorite toy. I threw them across the house, and she would chase them and bat them around for hours. I thought they were fake walnuts. I really did. I thought they were made of some special plastic. But this morning, throwing Pan her walnut, one hit a bookshelf and broke open. Inside was an actual walnut. Like, you could eat it. Then I grinned, and thought about what a city girl I am, not being able to tell a fake walnut from an actual one.

Nothing encourages creativity like the chance to fall flat on one's face.

~James D. Finley

Switching Sandals for Boots

2010-10-25T12:01:00.000-07:00

So, I kind of look like a square dancer today. But some of the funnest times in my life have been when I was square dancing. If you ever have the opportunity to join in a reel, please take my advice and do it.

"One must always have one's boots on and be ready to go."
Michel de Montaigne

Poetry Power

2010-10-15T18:13:00.000-07:00

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
Robert Frost

My Alma mater is Brigham Young University. My years there were a bit, I'll admit, innocent.
But innocence is not such a bad thing. While I was maybe not in the "real world", I was in a garden of play... everything green, everyone singing, everyone smiling. At least, that is how it was for me.

But Adam and Eve got kicked out of paradise, and so did I. Well, I graduated, actually, but still kicked out in a sense. Whereas before opportunities abounded to bump into friends and to hold hands and dance, now I have to create my own. And whereas dance teachers at BYU are challenging, they are not brutal. Anywhere else? I feel like my teachers aren't happy unless I am lying in a heap at the end of class, bawling.

But this is how it is supposed to be. This is how people become real. Still, I like to find ways to create that sense of unity, not just within a community, but within the self.

I had the opportunity to meet Patricia T. Holland, and a warmer, lovelier woman you will never find. She has written a lot of what I am trying to say here:

http://speeches.byu.edu/reader/reader.php?id=6991

One of the things that I have found feeds my positively ravenous soul and returns me to that natural state of acceptance and even play is poetry. I don't go heavy duty with it: just one a day. Most of the time, nothing much happens. I have the feeling of, That was nice, and I go on with my day. But once in a while, I stumble upon a poem that transports me to another time and place, and I am reborn.

Here is one such. I shared it with my mom, and she loved it! Maybe you will like it too.

The Visionary
by Rainer Maria Rilke

I see from looking at the wind tossed trees-
whose branches beat against my trembling windows
the storm's effect that raged through sullen days,
And hear the far horizon speak of things
that I cannot endure without a friend
nor love without a sister's presence

There goes the storm, and in its wake he alters
Shapes, driven on across the woods, across all time
and everything looks as if it were ageless:
the landscape- like a verse out of the book of psalms-
remains unshaken, forceful and eternal.

How little are the things with which we wrestle
What with us wrestles, how so much greater is!
If only we would let ourselves be conquered
as things are overcome by a great storm,
we would expand in space and need no names.

When we victorious are, it is over small things,
and though we won, it leaves us feeling small.
What is eternal, and what is not common,
does not want to be bent by human strength.
This is the angel who in ancient times
appeared to wrestlers of the Old Testament:
when his opponent's sinews during fighting
began to stretch like long metallic strands
that felt beneath the angel's gripping fingers
like singing strings responding with deep song.

Whoever was defeated by the angel-
and often one decided not to fight-
left walking proud and upright, full of strength,
and greater still for having felt the power
of these strong hands that molded him, as if
to change his shape.
For winning does not tempt him!
The secret of his growing lies in this:
by being totally defeated and disarmed
by even greater forces and their cause.

These Are a Few of....

2010-10-05T19:45:00.000-07:00


...my favorite things.

I saw these cleaning gloves at Sur La Table. Aren't they fun? I looooove wearing cleaning gloves when I clean. I tend to bonk my hands a lot, so these really save my skin. And let's face it, sometimes, even though we just got a mani, the toilet still needs to be cleaned.

Pink, yellow or green? Or all of the above?


Because if you're like me, even when you're cleaning, you still want to feel like a princess.

I've been doing this workout for years, and it continues to be my favorite. I love the background music they selected, and how the segments all flow together, and how even though I'm working out, I still feel like I'm "participating in a dance" (Suzanne Farrell). Plus, no one just owns the word "buttocks" like Peter Martins.

This is a symbol of Vintage Orange Soda. My favorite: Trader Joe's. You HAVE to try it.

This make-up brand is fun. My mom brought me home a free sample, and ever since, I have the most fun putting on make up. While I have not yet achieved quite this look with my eye shadow, I still enjoy the results.

This saved my hide! I had such the pimple. I mean, except for being slightly off-center, I looked like I was from India. With a big red dot on my forehead. Except not as pretty.

Originally, I purchased a pair of Ughs as a necessary part of my Princess Leia costume. Silly, I know, but then I wore those things OUT. It is time for a new pair. This year... hmmmm... heels?

I gotta gotta have YOU
~Boston (something about you)

Imbeciles & Italian Sodas

2010-10-03T10:44:00.000-07:00

These are my very oldest friends, ever since I was a teeny, tiny girl. It is always so good to reconnect with Tam and Rob.
Tam is expecting her first baby (a boy!) and Rob appears to be well on his way to stardom. In view of this fact, I endeavor to forget that he called me an imbecile. Which wasn't part of my vocabulary at the time, since we were perhaps oh, seven or so. It was very long ago, I should really try to forget it, but some things just stick in your memory, no?

Okay, maybe I am an imbecile. Clearly, I don't know how to look at the camera, like everyone else.

This photo was taken at a VERY happy event, the wedding of Johnny Gardner and Melissa Wright. I think it was Johnny who witnessed me getting trapped under the garage door in my ballet outfit. So he had this great view of me kicking in leotard and tights. The rear view, for that matter. And Melissa was my sister's best friend in high school. I regret that I did not get a picture of them... the night was full of fun, mingling, and Italian Sodas. But they both looked beautiful.

Oh happy day!

“We are friends and I do like to pass the day with you in serious and inconsequential chatter. I wouldn't mind washing up beside you, dusting beside you, reading the back half of the paper while you read the front. We are friends and I would miss you, do miss you and think of you very often.”

~Jeanette Winterson

Work of Heart

2010-09-25T11:55:00.000-07:00

I have been working on these for three days! They are for my niece's birthdays. I have had this book called Pretty Party Cakes, by Peggy Porschen, for some time, and decided it was time to actually try out some of the techniques.
I'm not going to lie to you. These cookies are a lot of work. And I'm still not finished. But the cookies, which are gingerbread, taste amazing right out of the oven. I never even knew how much I liked gingerbread cookies until I bit into a hot and fresh one. Whoa.
Now I have to find the perfect vases... the last step in the project. No big. As long as the cookies don't fall off the sticks, I'll be overjoyed.

"like painting a masterpiece... it's a work of heart."
~Hercules

Cookies, Coke, & Cucumbers: Or, in Other Words, Oregon

2010-09-07T15:51:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers: These photos have very little rhyme or reason and are in no particular order. I am afraid that is the way they will stay. Please piece them together as you wish in the delicate prisms of the mind.

Above photo: Within the bus, we ride to dinner in style. This is my mom and Aunt Jean.

This is Little Red. You'll hear more about him later.

So I was having a hearing impaired moment, and I thought my cousin Megan was saying Sultan something. What she was saying was "Salt and Nut Roll". Still, in my family we like to jest, so they crossed out the salt and put in Sultan. The odd thing was, I am reading a book called The Historian, and that night the entire chapter was full of Sultans. Hmmm...

Me and my adorable cousin Megan. We enjoyed swapping hideous roommate stories.

On the right (your right) you see Uncle Larry, adventurer and explorer. It is quite a sight, I assure you, to see him coming around the corner in this vehicle to pick you up for dinner. It has the element of... surprise.

This is Mom, modeling the latest model of John Deer potato picker. She grew up on a farm similar to this one, and I have many wonderful memories of summer on a farm similar to this one.

Little Red amongst the boots.

Here is the bus. Uncle Larry has a bus. He bought it at an auction. It is actually a lot of fun to ride in. If you like bouncy rides. Buses are, after all, the new limo.

Labor Day Weekend found me in Ontario, Oregon! Simple pleasures included walking out of doors without the feeling that someone is holding a blow dryer in front of your face. In fact, the weather was rather chilly. I wore my hoodie. With the hood on.


This is Little Red. He lives in my Aunt Jeannie's garage. Totally adorable rescue kitten, I fell in love with him at once. Unfortunately, he did not reciprocate the affection, and hissed at me more than once.

Within your heart, keep one still, secret spot where dreams may go. ~Louise Driscoll

Sometimes my powers of multitasking are tested to the limit. Well, sometimes I add unnecessary work to my already filled agenda. Such as these cookies for a baby shower. These were a pre-vacation effort. They look nothing like the cookies in the book, but to me, they were the most beautiful cookies ever.

If I was to go on a vacation, I had to wrap up everything at work.

Another requisite to leaving town: find a petsitter. Fortunately, my sister Juli was available. Although my kitty, Pan, has withdrawal symptoms just when I leave her for the day, still, one must visit one's relatives.

So maybe I am not the most graceful traveler. Getting off the plane in Reno, I guess I walked a little too vigorously with my Coke. When I opened it, it spewed like a fountain for perhaps ten seconds. There was nothing to do but sit and let the beverage, meant to ease my queasy tum, soak into my pants. I had a quite a wet bum the rest of the journey. Other funny things that happened on the plane (funny, that is, in retrospect): This guy whistled the whole ride. Not kidding. The whole ride. Loudly. Everyone kept looking around to see where the whistling was coming from. I was afraid the whole ride that it was some frail old man and someone was going to yell at him. But no one ever did. Then, just outside of Boise, the pilot announced that the electrical system was down at the Boise airport, and if they didn't get it back up, we were going to have to turn around and land in Reno for the night. At this point, I had to work very hard to restrain myself from approaching the cockpit with an, "Excuse me Mr. Pilot. We really need to land. I do not know anyone in Reno, and I have got a seriously wet bum." Fortunately, after a heart-thudding ten minutes or so, he announced that the lights were back up. Then, gratefully going to get my bags, I was approached by a man who said I looked "intriguing" and gave me his card. He said if I found myself bored in Boise, to give him a call. I was just really glad to see my mom. She even brought a blanket, possibly knowing of my clumsiness and tendency to spill cold drinks at inconvenient times.

Shabbat Shalom

2010-08-29T15:22:00.000-07:00

It is better to meet danger than to wait for it. He that is on a lee shore, and foresees a hurricane, stands out to sea and encounters a storm to avoid a shipwreck.
~Charles Caleb Colton, (1780-1832) British clergyman, sportsman and author.

Above is a picture of Jerusalem at night. I do think it has grown since I lived there.
So I have bumped into two people within the last two weeks who, like me, resided in Jerusalem, Israel. I'm wondering if it is a sign. You know, like I should apply for a job at the Israeli Museum, or something.

Okay, so it is kind of dangerous to live there. For instance, I was prohibited by my leaders when there to ride the buses. This is because some people who reside there blow the buses up.

But ever since I was a small girl at the World's Fair in Canada begging any member of my family to ride the most death-defying ride there, I kind of thrive on danger. I mean, almost getting hit by a car on my roller skates does for me what maybe an hour of meditation does for someone else.

I know it is decidedly unhealthy, and I am working on it. But anyways. The first person I bumped into who lived in Jerusalem was Betsy Diamont-Cohen. If any of you are into child development, she founded "Mother Goose on the Loose". So I was at the Carnegie Library, listening to her speak, and when she talked about living in Jerusalem, I kind of got excited. I bounced up to her at the first opportunity, and we struck up a conversation. I mean, living in a city where people just blow things up totally gives you common ground.

The next person I bumped into was at Taco del Mar. Something about his accent sounded familiar, so I asked him where he was from. Not Jerusalem- Tel Aviv. His name was Ariel, which most people of course associate with a cute red headed mermaid, but in the bible, it is actually another name for Jerusalem. I know this because I worked my butt off studying in that city! It was not all ruins and pyramids and falafel. Oh no. My classes were HARD. So then Ariel asked me if I knew any Hebrew. At this point, I could have handled the question creatively. I could have performed "Hava Nagila", a dance where everyone holds hands in a circle and then lifts up their hands and goes "Oy! Oy" really loud. Or I could have said, "Lo beseder", which I always say when things aren't going well for me. The literal translation is: Everything is most decidedly out of order.

Instead, I went blank, and I could not remember any of the Hebrew I had been taught. I hate it when that happens.

My main concern about moving back to Israel would probably be the absence of a Bliss Spa. I consider the close proximity of one of these as completely necessary to my mental health. I can handle walking up and down really steep hills instead of riding the bus- but yucky fingernails? No.

Danger -- if you meet it promptly and without flinching -- you will reduce the danger by half. Never run away from anything. Never!
~Winston Churchill (1874-1965) British politician.

Eat, Pray, Love Your Artists

2010-08-25T18:25:00.000-07:00

I am interested in this book because my friend, Tammie, gave it to me. And I read it. And felt that the author offered fresh perspectives on culture, religion, friendship, and other themes that I still reflect on, two years after reading the book.

For example, Liz is in Bali. She has just rallied her friends to raise a whopping $20,000 for a woman who she has befriended who has a daughter, but no home. She just hands over the money to the woman- who instead of buying a home, procrastinates. She has never seen this much money in the whole of her life, and doesn't want it to go anywhere, even to buy a home.

Liz gets angry, feeling that her Balinese friend will surely squander the money instead of buying a home, and then all her American friends will be very upset that the cause they supported was all for naught. But her friend Felipe, who fills in the "love" part of the book for her quite nicely, wisely advises: "Don't get angry. Because then you've lost a friend."

Such simple, yet beautiful advice. And this book is filled with many more such instances.

So it is with wonderment that I observe the story being surrounded by so much controversy. Many accuse Liz of being narcissistic, selfish, spoiled. I just don't get it. So she is depressed. Many people are. But instead of becoming addicted to medicines prescribed to her, she forms the idea of a quest that will cure her. She writes a book that makes a lot of people laugh, enables others to travel vicariously to places they may never go and have a taste of what the culture and people are like, makes herself and a lot of other people really rich, and provides Julia Roberts with a perfect role. And the world is a worse place because...?

Going on a quest to find what you need, in order to be free from prescriptive medicines and other debilitating habits, is not a bad thing. In Liz's case, the medicines doctors gave her for her depression dulled her sense of adventure, her wanderlust, her need to know herself. I find it kind of interesting that a woman undertaking a journey of self-discovery, of exploration of the inner and outer world within which human souls exist, should be so unacceptable to so many people.

Perhaps it makes a lot of people uncomfortable? Because they are reluctant to go on their own personal quest that will certainly lead to uncertainty, and possibly chaos? No, I don't think everyone needs to travel to Italy, India, and Bali to find inner peace. But freedom from debilitating habits, and knowing what you need, that does take an inward search that sometimes equals traveling the world. And for most people, it usually takes more that 80 days. (I just watched that movie.)

So I ask you, critics, is there something wrong with employing a little adventure and creativity in dealing with your most intimate spiritual difficulties? With wanting to be free from doctors who offer relief, but no real answers? So what if you have an affinity for travel, and happen to be handy with a pen? Is it really better to deny your gifts, and suppress your best desires?

It kind of looks like there are many who are just like Liz Gilbert, and are searching for a better way, or her book would not be at the very top of the New York Times bestseller list.

"This is what happens when you leave home. You meet... people."

~Phileas Fogg, Around the World in 80 Days

Back to School, Flower Bliss, & Big, Big Bug

2010-08-17T20:37:00.000-07:00

Price + Theo = Love. Back to school calls for a swim party, right? And that is what we did. I even made homemade pizza, which due to the Hydration Principle (leaving the dough in the fridge for a couple of days) turned out excellent. We also had a water balloon fight, lots of bubbles, and a special "Robot Modeling" session with baby Lane.

Suddenly, screams echoed across the air. I rushed outside, and saw everyone's face filled with horror. I thought, you know, my kitty got hit by a car or something. Then I looked at the wall, and there was this bug (see above photo). It had horns. Like a bull. Only my mom, the brave and intrepid soul, would go this near to it so that we might accurately document its rather unusual size.

Can everyone agree that going to Trader Joes is bliss? Not only do they have the best selection of cheese ever, but their flowers are totally affordable. And cheerful. And pretty.

Flowers are not just for Valentine's Day. Oh, I just watched that movie. I liked it. Especially the part where Jennifer Garner completely takes out the heart pinata. I mean, it was funny.

Tayler Brooke completely made out this back-to-school-with-Grandma-shopping trip. And she got Sprinkles cupcakes to boot. Not a bad day in the life of a 7th grader. I think she is 7th grade. Oh my gosh! My little Tay! Who used to hold both my hands on the trampoline because she was too small to jump by herself and say in her little voice:
"Come on, Tippy! Let's get jumping!"
Sorry... sentimental moment.

Tay is going to be the cutest thing walking the halls this year.

Blogboard Confessional:

Today, I got up at 6 am. I'm a little sluggish in the morning unless I get outside and have some sun. Water, I have found, increases my aptitude for waking up as well. So I get up and jump in my community pool. I guess this is weird. All my neighbors, who just go on walks in the morning like normal people, give me looks. But that is not the only thing that is weird about me. Random movie quotes just pop into my head. All day long. It's like some kind of broadcast I can't escape. But I kind of like it, too. Because at random moments, like swimming in the morning, I recall a particularly beautiful scene from a movie. This morning, it was the scene from "First Knight" when King Arthur (Sean Connery) is dying and he looks up and he says to Guinevere (Julia Ormond):

"The sunlight... its in your eyes."

"For the first in my life, I wanted what all wise man say can't last; what can't be promised or made to linger any more than sunlight. I don't want to die without having felt its warmth on my face."

~First Knight

Green Dreams

2010-08-08T15:10:00.000-07:00

Aren't these willow planting boxes pretty? And they're already painted, if you like white. Once, I tried to paint a basket, and it was kind of... messy. Okay, anytime I try to paint, it is messy.

I already have aspirations to be a gardener... maybe all it takes is the right box.

I stole this picture from: http://www.burgonandball.com/shop/scripts/default.asp

So I think. I think that's exciting. And I think that's crazy.
~Promise Ring

Watch This

2010-07-16T14:42:00.000-07:00

Such a superb rendition of this beloved story.

OH, and the kissing scenes? Smoking hot. Thanks Masterpiece Theater (2010)!

"And was Mr. Rochester now ugly in my eyes? No, reader: gratitude and many associates, all pleasurable and genial, made his face the object I best liked to see; his presence in a room was more cheering than the brightest fire" (Chapter 15) ~Jane Eyre

Lose Them at Our Peril

2010-07-11T14:34:00.001-07:00

“The people who welcome us to the library are idealists who believe that accurate information leads to good decisions and that exposure to the intellectual riches of civilization leads to a better world. The next Abraham Lincoln could be sitting in their library, teaching himself all he needs to know to save the country. While they help us get online, employed, and informed, librarians don’t try to sell us anything. Nor do they turn around and broadcast our problems, send us spam, or keep a record of our interests and needs, because no matter how savvy this profession is at navigating the online world, it clings to that old-fashioned value, privacy. (A profession dedicated to privacy in charge of our public computers? That’s brilliant.) They represent the best civic value out there, an army of resourceful workers that can help us compete in the world.”

—Marilyn Johnson, author of This Book Is Overdue!, in “U.S. Public Libraries: We Lose Them at Our Peril,” editorial in Los Angeles Times, July 6.

Writing from West Coast

2010-07-08T10:12:00.000-07:00

I am in Burbank, California, visiting a little cottage on Angeleno Avenue. This morning, I woke up to the fresh, balmy sea air since my brother Wes had opened all the windows. The scent of roses and newly cut grass wafted in on the temperate breeze.
Then the sound of rap music, loud and hard, entered the scene. I arose from my air mattress to look out the window, expecting to see a low rider with a tough looking man inside. Instead, it was the UPS guy! Ha ha! They never boom out the sound system like that in Arizona. I was delighted.

I slept in a tad because Maya woke up last night. She is my niece, about one and a half years of age. I went in her room to ask Lyndsay, my sister in law, if I could do anything to help. It turned out to be a knee-bouncing, dream sharing, middle of the night party for us girls. And it went on for some time.

Lyndsay just got back from Greece. While there, the "evil eye" found her. This is what the resident Greecian grandmother told her. She got terribly sick, and spent a great deal of time in foreign hospitals. She said they are not gentle when placing an IV in the vein.

I listened in horror to her account. What is this "evil eye" that the people of Greece speak of? Do I need a talisman, too? Did it really make my dear sister ill? Then I thought of a line from a song:

"I ain't superstitious-"

Where was I? Well, so this Greek grandma told Lyndsay that the "evil eye" found her and made her sick. Whatever it was, she was sure sick. She was so skinny I could tell I was going to have to start cooking for her. (I like butter.)

(Okay, the mailman just dropped the mail in the slot in the front door and nearly gave me a heart attack. I am never going to get used to that.)

Last night, we watched "The Young Victoria". I had had a rigorous day of making hot dogs, dodging T-Rex toys, and all in all being loved wholeheartedly by my niece and nephew. That is the only excuse I can offer for what I said. It went like this.

Lyndsay: "There is a lot of blue in this movie- especially in the romantic scenes." (She has a heightened awareness of all visual triggers.)

Me: "You are right. Oh, and remember what Albert was wearing when he taught Victoria archery? It was the most beautiful Canary blue." (I said this with such confidence that Lyndsay did not reply for sometime. She was just really quiet, like she was contemplating something.)

Lyndsay: "But... canaries are yellow."

Then we looked at each other, and began to laugh like we were tipsy. (Of course, we were not.) It got worse from there, but I can only say that I am tired of pretending like I know everything for the general public (my job), so I must have needed a reason to slip. Whatever the cause, it was a good laugh, and how many of those do we really get?

Lyndsay brought me honey from Greece. I am so excited to try it.

Remedy for Buggy Sheets

2010-06-30T08:30:00.000-07:00

Some of the living rooms we see have really no right to the name; they are so unattractive they ought, instead, to be called existing rooms. I like to thing of the word "living rooms" being short for the joy-of-living rooms. That is what they ought to be- full of life and happiness and beauty.
~Lucy Abbot Throop

Lately it has been my endeavor to institute certain habits of cleanliness from theory to practice. Instead of huge cleaning splurges that leave me exhausted and never wanting to clean again, I am trying out doing a little every day.
But it is hard to stop once I get started. Then I go to work disheveled, instead of utterly pulled together, the way we know all librarians should look. So, I really have to make an effort to leave jobs half-finished, and trust that I will return to it the next day. Is this what balance is about?
The other night I changed my sheets, and pulled out some from the hall closet to put on my bed. I awoke with tiny bumps all over the backs of my knees. They itched incredibly.
I had my sister, trained in the medical profession, take a look at them with a flashlight. She proclaimed I had a rash, possibly from the summer heat. This comforted me. I did not want to believe I might have... well, something setting up a colony in my bed. Something like... bugs.

Look for bugs. I hate bugs.
~The Mummy

Sorry, just had to stick that quote in there.
This morning when I awoke with more itchy bumps, I had to face the worst. My sheets from the closet were infested.
After allowing myself to be completely grossed out for a few moments, I stripped my bed of its clothing. Then I remembered a story. A girl I work with told me about a time she had to sleep in a basement filled with spiders. She had no choice, and when she turned on the lights in the said basement, she could see the spiders scattering everywhere.
She knew what she had to do. She went to the health food store, and bought a bottle of Cedarwood Essential Oil. She sprinkled it all over the room. The spiders were banished!
I know, I know, it sounds like an Old Wives Tale. But it is effective. I happened to have a bottle of Cedarwood oil, so I sprinkled not just my bed, but my whole room with the stuff. Then I threw the sheets in the hot, hot washing machine.
Every day, my house teaches me something new. Today, it is to remember lessons learned and pass them on. And whatever you do, no matter what, never settle for less than buggy-free sheets.
Here is a link for one of my favorite sources for quality, affordable essential oils:

www.baldwins.co.uk/

Happy sprinkling!

A beautiful home is an education in itself, but it is not made in a day; it must slowly grow.
~Lucy Abbot Throop

Image courtesy of Google images

Disturb Not Her Dreams

2010-06-18T20:36:00.000-07:00

Summer Musts

2010-06-15T19:03:00.000-07:00

"In December, drinking Horchata...."

Vampire Weekend

First in line for "summer musts" are Vampire Weekend albums. I know of no other music quite so summery. I enjoy the song "Horchata" quite a bit, although I have no idea what they mean by "you'd still enjoy it with your foot on Masada." I have actually been to Masada. I admit, a Horchata would have been nice at the time. It was very hot, and we were told a very sad story about a community of Sicarii- a band of Jewish exiles vehemently opposed to Roman rule. They held out against the Romans up on Masada as long as they could, but then the Romans pulled out the battle rams, and they knew they were done for. So they all killed each other. It was sad, but not as sad as becoming Roman slaves by a long shot.
You may be wondering what this has to do with pink ruffly swimming suits. As you hike down Masada, you come to the Dead Sea. You will need a swimming suit. These are my two favorites! Although I will most likely be swimming in my own 4 foot community pool this summer, rather than the salty Dead Sea. But style is style, at home or abroad...

As usual, my kitty is cracking me up. I made this little backdrop to highlight a recipe I made for Lickable Spoon, the oh so fun cooking blog. Pan immediately spotted the stylish place to rest her paws, and posed for the camera forthwith. It reminded me of my nephew Finn, stretching out in front of the bathtub when my mom was trying to get a shot of me and my sister-in-law bathing in our swimsuits. Yes, I took a bath with Lyndsay, in our swimsuits. She called it "serious Jr. High bonding time"- but I never got to in Jr. High! I missed that right of passage.

Here is the recipe I plan to post on Lickable Spoon. So stay tuned.

I think this is Pan's favorite pose or something. So profound, like she is thinking about the Sicarii at Masada, or maybe just sipping some Horchata while floating on the Dead Sea... in a pink ruffly suit like Hello Kitty would wear...

No summer is complete without filling up an entire reusable grocery bag with books. My advice? Read something you discovered as a teen. This is one of mine- The Moon by Night. It is about a girl named Vicky, and it has just as much for me now as when I was a teen. Vicky's family is taking a cross-country trip from Connecticut to California. She describes each state in its' unique splendor. She is chased by a Bad Boy, certainly a right of passage for every teen girl. Highly romantic, if not highly recommended.
I love Madeleine L'Engle. I love her desperately.

"Everybody knows that diaries are just full of... crap."
~Bridget Jones' Diary

Ariel's Coming! (Or Something Like That)

2010-06-06T22:03:00.000-07:00

Yeah! My beautiful ones are coming to town. Maya, Finn,

Welley, Lynnay.
Although Maya has grown considerably since I saw her last. So I'll have to get some new shots.
Fun, fun, fun, til I stay up too late too much and get sick. It is worth it.

To Absent Friends

2010-06-04T22:14:00.000-07:00

It is amazing how many new friends you make at work when you bring cupcakes.
My recipe was inspired by Giada de Laurentis- only I changed it, of course, nonconformist kitchen mouse that I am. Still, it turned out well, and the strawberry glaze is all Giada.
Another lady that inspires me is Rachel Ashwell. While reading her blog, I came upon this picture. It was exactly what I needed to hear- or read, rather. "Keep calm and be joyful."
This advice comes especially in handy when cleaning up the library after a summer's day. Kids are out of school. Kids come to the library. Remember King Priam in the movie Troy? I'm sure you do. When the Greeks come in and are pulling all the statues down, he is horrified, waving his arms and shouting "Have you no honor! Have you no honor!" That is how I feel when the floodgates of children come in and are pulling everything off the shelves, and I have 30 minutes to clean up or I am toast! I don't wave my arms and shout, "Have you no honor!" but I am thinking something along those lines. Today, I tried to be joyful, as Rachel gently instructs, in the face of my impending doom. And somehow, everything got cleaned and I was able to rock out on the way home with a clean conscience, having smiled sweetly at the children while telling them not to maim each other, instead of frowning.

Honey catches more bees than vinegar.
~Old Folk Saying

Photo courtesy of ShabbyChic.com.

French Manicures & Kitty Claws

2010-05-26T08:02:00.000-07:00

First two pictures: Make yourself comfortable, Panny. No, really.

Third picture:
French manicures and kitty scratches. I always say, these two go together cursed well. Ha, ha.
The two are related! You see, I left out my box of nail polishes. Very untidy of me. Then, scooping up Pan to pet her tummy, I accidentally sat down on it. The rattling of the polishes within the box caused her great alarm, resulting in the clawing of one of my limbs, and a deep puncture in another.
I told my mom, who insisted that I go to her house and be slathered in pink stuff. No matter how old I get, she always wants to slather me in the pink stuff. Even if I moved to Alaska, she would hunt me down and slather me in pink stuff.
We all secretly love to be mothered, don't we? Since it is still May, the month we celebrate mothers, here is one last, sweet quote for all the mothers who make the world go round.

Being a full-time mother is one of the highest salaried jobs... since the payment is pure love. ~Mildred B. Vermont

Who Wants to Be a Kitty?

2010-05-25T21:22:00.000-07:00

Every night when I let the bunnies out to run, Marzipan gets in their cage and pretends she is a bunny. This is one of her favorite things to do, in addition to jumping in their bag of hay and rooting around. Such a weirdo~

Flattery

2010-05-18T21:06:00.000-07:00

I love the graphic novel, Swan. It is about a dancer who was trained in the countryside, then journeys to the big city. She has amazing natural talent, but the pros around her just can't seem to iron out her flaws. The poor girl sweats, and toils, and collapses on the ground, but she still can't find that elusive perfection that haunts her as a dancer.
Throughout the novel, however, she maintains perfect hair. That is one of the things I love most about graphic novels. Everyone's hair is always so, so glorious. It is always blowing in the wind, and always looks like it just got round brushed with the most exclusive Bumble and Bumble products.
This is me trying to imitate my heroine's style. I fall kind of short, but it was fun! As you can see, I also have a large mole on my back. I had another that I had removed, but I felt like Winnie the Pooh when they were sewing me up. Ever since then, I have had an aversion to mole removal.

Be excellent to each other.
Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure

Blessings of the Blog

2010-05-17T15:50:00.000-07:00

"I think you're bluffing."

"It's possible, pig. I might be bluffing. It's conceivable, you miserable, vomitous mass. I'm only lying here because I lack the strength to stand. Then again, perhaps I do have the strength."

(Inspirational music)

"Drop. Your. Sword."

~Excerpt from The Princess Bride. Dialogue between Westley and Prince Humperdink.

I got really dirty with a guy on the phone today. By dirty, I mean, angry.

So, I am thinking not just Australia is entirely peopled with criminals. All I am trying to do is close an account, which I tried to do a month before. They do not want to close my account, because they are making money from it.

First, I pointed out that they never sent me the necessary paperwork, and that this was express negligence on their part. Then I demanded a refund for the charges made after I requested the account closed. The man was practically laughing at me, possibly because I sound like a young child on the phone. Not my fault. He said there was no way I was getting a refund, and the paperwork was probably lost in the mail. Right.

So it was time to play rough with the devil. I was completely bluffing, but I said, "Just so you know, I do have a blog. And I use it extensively. (Does he know I have but two devoted followers? No.) I'm capable of reaching a lot of people, and I can spread the word that your company is not the most responsible."

Suddenly, he became very, very nice. He even sounded kind of scared. He also opened up about the "fine print" terms of closing an account, and waived the fee.

It is kind of sad that I had to use threats, something I am theoretically against, for the guy to just do his job. And I am wondering what kind of mentality believes that by treating people badly, you will make progress in your business. Okay, so a lot of times this works. But as we can see from the present economy, in the end everybody pays the price. So, someone needs to call these guys on their corrupt behavior.

I just found one way to do so.

Oh, Pan!

2010-05-08T18:21:00.000-07:00

It is impossible to keep a straight face in the presence of one or more kittens.
~Cynthia E. Varnado

Pan (Marzipan) has many preferences. Sometimes, she prefers to hide deeply in large, floppy blankets. As you see here.

She prefers to drink out of the toilet, but I think this is yucky. I keep the toilet lid down to prevent this sort of thing. Sometimes, however, she will stare very pointedly at the toilet and then dilate her pupils as she looks at me (I am sure she does it on purpose). Humans, as we all know, are complete suckers for dilated pupils.

The word "pupil" comes from the Latin "pupilla" which means: little doll. Hence, we find this adorable and are unable to stop ourselves from succumbing to this look.

So, I open the toilet lid for Pan, and she drinks contentedly, her guilty pleasure. Once, she tried drinking from the bath I was taking. She seems completely transfixed by pools of water. Although, since I put quite a few bubbles in my bath, it must have tasted bitter, and she never did it again. Sometimes, she will stare pointedly at the bathroom sink. This means I must fill it with water. So I do, then she stares at the water for about five minutes, takes three licks of it, and is gone.

???

All right, said the cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.
-- Lewis Carroll, Alice In Wonderland

Night Out

2010-05-01T15:59:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I go out to dinner and a show with my parents, Jinx and Ed. We always have an interesting, if unusual, time.

Last night, we went to Carrabas. It was busy, so we waited a long time outside. My dad has a new pocket video camera, and has decided to document various things. So he filmed me telling about how I clipped my bunnies toenails. I have to be strategic about it, you see, because my bunnies run fast, and kick hard. I am absolutely terrified of them.

So I am telling the camera how I capture my bunnies by throwing a blanket over them, and scooping them up. Then how I clip their nails by pulling out one little paw at a time, then sticking it back into the blanket where the bundle of bunny is trembling. Apparently, they feel the same way about me.

Then our table is ready. We get way too much food. Then my dad sees someone's bread pudding, and orders some. It comes before the main dish. We eat the bread pudding before supper, and are absolutely stuffed before our meals come out. Then my mom says her shrimp taste funny, and the manager comes out and gives us the meal free. Probably because she is so pretty. Then my dad comes out of the bathroom, and says that when he "tooted" music started playing. I said maybe they have a system similar to the "clap on" lights, only with sound activated music.

We go to the show, and my dad is being a gentleman so he insists on seeing a girl movie, even though I am totally fine with seeing Clash of the Titans again. So we see Back Up Plan, and my dad falls asleep and his snores reverberate through the large theater, but since it is filled with girls, everyone is too polite to say anything.

My parents walk me in my house, and Marzipan dives under the bed because she, too, is a timid pet. I try to coax her out from under the bed, because my dad paid for her expensive trip to the pet hospital so she wouldn't die and wants to meet her, but she is too stubborn to come out. This goes on until my parents are too sleepy to wait for Marzipan to come out any more, and we all say,

Good night.

Adornment is never anything but a reflection of the self.
Coco Chanel

Image courtesy of hoaxslayer.com.

Close to You

2010-04-22T22:53:00.000-07:00

Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need to know of hell.
- Emily Dickinson

I'm pretty sure Pan loves me. In the morning, she always lays on the outfit I am going to wear, as if to discourage my getting dressed. She seems to have noticed that when I get dressed, I leave. She also seems to be able to distinguish between pajamas and real clothes. She is a really smart kitty.

It is a really endearing habit of hers. The following clips are of her in one of her funny poses, and then her laying on my Western wear. I wore Western wear today to work because it was time to teach the Virginia Reel to some cute kids. We had a lot of fun.

Report on Vampire Weekend

2010-04-15T11:22:00.001-07:00

Why are the horses racing taxis in the winter?
~VW

Of course I would never attend a concert where chandeliers were not hung.

There is also a great picture that used to hang in my grandma's basement of a little Harlequin child, dressed in a diamond-patterned costume, that would have gone perfectly with this scene. Maybe next time.

You never know how interactive a band's songs are until you go to their concert. This show was VERY interactive, and thus the energy was exhilarating. There was no division between the stage and the crowd. So fun. I couldn't help but notice that everyone there, except for the especially inebriated, had huge smiles on their faces the whole show. Because their music just makes people happy!

Okay, just to warn you, my filming is worse than the movie Cloverfield. I was trying very hard not to dance while filming, but was not wholly successful. Still, to preserve a small piece of the show, I tried.

Blake's got a new face.
~VW

Testing 1,2,3

2010-04-08T17:27:00.000-07:00

This is my first video post on Cyberspace Grotto. We are totally taking Rattlethecages to such great heights (come down now, they'll say...).

The question is... is it working?

It works! This is Lucy and Esme, my two favorite friends from Atlanta. We visited Puppies 'N Love, and the nice lady let us play with two cuddly puppies. We named them Skyler (a play on Shyler) and Joy. Can you guess which is which?

I just have to include this song, an original by Lyndsay Johnson, as my quote du poste (also just invented new phrase?):

Puppies puppies, I love puppies
Puppies puppies puppies puppies puppies puppies
I love puppies
Little puppies
Puppies puppies puppies puppies puppies puppies
I love puppies
Puppies puppies

Whoa, after writing puppies a certain number of times, it starts to look strange. What would be really cool is if I could get a shot of Lyndsay singing it. Its really good. But I'm not sure she would go for that.

Handsome Little Nephews

2010-04-06T09:29:00.000-07:00

Me and my cousins, and you and your cousins...
~Vampire Weekend

Price, Austen, Finn.

Okay, so it's not my fault I have the cutest nephews in THE ENTIRE WORLD. Believe me, it's not easy. Do you have any idea what saying goodbye to one of these little munchkins is like? Especially when they insist on kissing you on both cheeks, or resting their forehead on yours for a little while? Torture.

Or when they just keep bursting out with "I love you Tiffy" the whole time you are with them. Kind of like that Jimmy Eat World song that goes, "you rip my heart right out; you rip my heart right out." (come on, name it!)

He kicked a tumbleweed, and his mother called him home
Where the Arizona moon met the Arizona sun
~Ten Thousand Maniacs

Rollin' with the Homies...

2010-04-02T16:21:00.000-07:00

She's not a robot, she's a cousin.
~Finn Johnson

Last night I watched one of my brother Wes's films, Baby Blue. Not only was it amazing, but it was crazy scary! One of those films that cause "single ladies" to quake. Although it was fortunate at the time that it scared me out of my wits, because I was trying so hard not to cry as I kissed my nephew Finn goodnight and goodbye for a while. And failing miserably.

Still, I have cute cuddly bunnies and spit-fire kitty...

I learn so much at the library. Just by opening a few random books every day. For example, there was a book about a bunny named Marshmallow that I just had to read. In the book, the nice woman takes in Marshmallow and feeds her oats and carrots. I did not know that bunnies could eat oats, but when I came home and tried it out on them, they loved the oats!
They also enjoy crispy Romaine.
Marzipan watching the bunnies eat. She finds them fascinating, and even puts her paws in their cage to pet them. They are surprisingly tolerant of her attentions.
This is Bak Bak the kitty toy.
If you are missing something, like toys that are essential to keeping pets happy, try looking under the bed.
This is another of Pan's favorite games: bite very hard. While holding my tender flesh with her claws. Thank goodness for Hello Kitty band-aids!

April, that angel of the months.
~Vita Sackville-West

Fun @ Lickable Spoon

2010-03-23T21:04:00.000-07:00

We all need to seek sanctuary from time to time, to step back and replenish our physical and emotional strength. Indeed, sometimes making a tactical retreat can be the best way to move forward.
~The Body Shop Body Care Manual

Sanctuary can be sought in the kitchen. Water boiling to feed hungry people is holy, and chicken broth is consecrated. At least, this is how I feel sometimes when cooking for others or even for myself. The kitchen is an invitation to create, learn, make mistakes, be forgiven, and all the things that go into a wonderful meal. Sometimes mistakes make the best dishes- Crepes Suzette was actually an accident at first, when one French chef accidentally set them on fire, then discovered the taste was so much better.

Halibut in a Brazilian Chile Sauce

Starting the day off right...

White chocolate and lemon curd birthday cake.

My sister-in-law Lyndsay has invited me to team up with her on the Lickable Spoon, an interactive treasury of delicious recipes that invite all to seek sanctuary in their kitchens. Come one, come all, check out this fabulous website, dust off your apron, try something new!

I even have a button! (or two...)

We will also share wellness tips, discuss how French women eat chocolate croissants all day and stay so thin, and other forms of sanctuary for weary souls who wish to rest their feet (cyberly speaking) at a friend's threshold.

Okay, I made two secret references to two good books in this post. If anyone can guess them, I will send them... something really good.

I collect hobbies.
~The Brothers Bloom

One of My Favorite Princesses: Mia

2010-03-22T19:45:00.000-07:00

Surely, one of the most crazy-unique minds about is that of Meg Cabot. Her characters are so real... so real they even have their own blogs.

I enjoy this innovation, because when The Princess Diaries books came to an end, I still longed for the characters. Particularly Grandmere. She is my favorite...

Now that Mia, Princess of Genovia, has her very own blog, I can stay connected with her, even if the book series is finished.

This is one of the funniest things I've read in a while. Lily can be a little, well, blunt, but I absolutely delight in Grandmere. Read on, and I'm sure you'll see why.

http://www.miathermopolis.com/

Where is her tiara?

~Clarice Renaldo, Dowager Princess of Genovia

Little Furry Creatures

2010-03-16T09:04:00.000-07:00

No, precious creature,
I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo
While I sit lazy by.

~Shakespeare, The Tempest

Shoe sale @ Nordstroms!

I worked yesterday, and I happen to work near Scottsdale Fashion Square. My sister called me and wanted to meet at the mall. My sister, Juli, hates shopping, so going to the store with her is a novelty. Of course I said yes! I didn't know they were having a shoe sale, but I really did need shoes. I have been tottering around in these sparkly high heels at the library, getting disapproving looks from a few of my more traditional coworkers, and squeals of delight from little girls, because I threw away all my practical shoes in a fit of spring cleaning. You can take it too far. But they were grungy.

So my niece Lauren was pulling of super-high, cheetah print heels to try on her tiny feet, and it was really cute. Then I found this great pair of shoes for the perfect price. Thank goodness for serendipity; when the shoes find you.

So I came home, my feet hurting, because as I mentioned I have been wearing these really high heels for like two weeks in a row. And my garage door was open, and I freaked out. Because I had been gone all day.

It's not that I'm irresponsible. I would never leave my house so unguarded when I was gone all day. I think it had something to do with yet another Texas Sage bush I had managed to stuff in my garbage can that was hindering my door from closing.

The first thing I did was rush in to make sure my kitty was not kidnapped. Okay, so criminals and intruders might not be after my kitty, they might be more interested in my computer or jewelry or something, but all I could think of was my cat. I was so glad when I tripped over her in the darkness. Then I closed my garage, being used to the fact that it closes when I push the button. Then I let Marzipan out into the garage, because she likes to sniff through the vent and see what's going on in the big, bad, real world.

Only my garage door just bounced right up again, on account of the Texas Sage bush stuffed in the garbage can. So Marzipan was out, and I just spent like a whole paycheck having her spayed and shots, and now I feared she was just going to run away. So I'm in high heels, hurting feet, playing soccer with my cat: she is the ball, I'm the goalie. I'm trying to keep her from scoring, or getting out of the open garage. And I just weeded for six hours the previous day, and played "butt wars" on the trampoline with my nieces for two hours, so I was pretty sore as well.

It was pretty interesting. I finally got a hold of that kitty, figured out what was keeping my garage from closing, and went to bed saying "thank you thank you thank you." Because what a day! Bed never feels so good.

Coming home from a tea party, I remembered I was out of bunny food. I went out in the absolute pouring rain to get more. What will we not do for our pets? They are so sweet.

Say... that you'll stay.

~We Are Scientists

A Little Fresh Air

2010-03-05T17:09:00.000-08:00

You can have anything you want if you want it desperately enough. You must want it with an exuberance that erupts through your skin and joins the energy that created the world.

~Sheila Graham, taken from Simple Abundance

My exuberance for wanting to be outside must have joined the energy of the universe, because one day a friend from work just asked if I wanted to go hiking. The desert is excited for spring and can't wait to bloom. So green, so lovely, water so tinkly and chimy and nice to put your hot feet in.

So I had to get my bum bum out of bed a little earlier than usual, and the trail was full of hikers thrice my age putting me to shame. I made ham sandwiches with Swiss cheese and pineapple chutney on rustic bread. It was a picnic. We were missing Cheetos, however. I just think Cheetos and hiking go together so well.

We went on a trail called the Lost Dutchman. About two miles in, you have a view of "Weaver's Needle", and it is pretty astonishing.

Little Pan had to get one more shot before she was done. Last time she got so sick, and had to go to the pet hospital and stay there and be injected with fluids. This time, as soon as we got home, I tried some Music Therapy. I have read that animals are very responsive to harp music.

Once I made my sis-in-law Lynds a red dress, and for a thank you gift she gave me this lovely harp music. So I played it over and over for Pan so she wouldn't get so sick again, and she is okay. Yeah!

Come on, Mother Nature, take me home to Nim!

~Nim's Island, the movie

Cherry Blossoms

2010-02-28T13:18:00.000-08:00

Someday I would like to travel to Washington and see the Cherry blossoms.
I used to take voice lessons, and my teacher gave me a song called "Loveliest of Trees." It was about these same trees:

And take from seventy springs, a score
It only leaves me fifty more
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs is little room
About the woodlands I will go
To see the Cherry- hung
With snow

Photo courtesy of Google images

I Serve the Library, I Must Recommend a Book Once in a While

2010-02-25T18:30:00.000-08:00

Just once, consider sitting back and reading "A Natural History of the Senses" by Diane Ackerman. Every time I curled up on the couch with this book, it was like my soul took a deep breath and said, "Ah, life is so full of delight and strangeness and mystery and impressions. And people are so perplexingly perfect." (Well, except that lady who yelled at me today)

Here are some of my favorite quotes that caused me to laugh, sigh, wonder.

On education and being the artist of your own life:

Rimbauld... claimed that the only way an artist can arrive at life's truths is by experiencing "every form of love, of suffering, of madness," to be prepared for by "a long immense planned disordering of all the senses."

(This is kind of how I feel when I drive to work every day in rush hour traffic)

On courting the muse of inspiration:

...Best not to tell them how the painter J.M.W. Turner liked to be lashed to the mast of a ship and taken sailing during a real hell-for-leather storm so that he could be right in the middle of the tumult.

(Why does that sound kind of fun to me?)

On our connection to the Earth:

In REM sleep, our brain waves range between eight and thirteen hertz, a frequency at which flickering light can trigger epileptic seizures. The tremulous earth quivers gently at around ten hertz. So, in our deepest sleep, we enter synchrony with the trembling of the earth. Dreaming, we become the Earth's dream.

So many of our perceptions would change, I think, if we understood our continuing attachment to the areas in and around us and scientists are still discovering ways in which these profoundly affect us. Not that I understand all of this, mind you, but it is interesting.

And now, I think I will go light up some lavender oil, and savor my ability to smell... not one of the lesser pleasures in life.

Image courtesy of cottagefarmvilla.blogspot.com

Le Gift Basket

2010-02-22T05:24:00.000-08:00

Bright, good morning to all.
~The Mummy

So, I devised a new way to combine pretty paper with something essential to happiness: good food.

I always pass the scrapbook paper with a longing look, wanting to do something with all that fun design, but not quite wanting to scrapbook. Nothing against scrapbooking. It's just that I scrapbooked for three weeks straight after getting my wisdom teeth out, and I think I associate it with unpleasant things.

My inspiration came from the source of so many inspirations: a book. Then I just used transparent paper to transcribe the recipe, so you can see the cute design underneath. Alas, there are many ways to do this.

I must note, this recipe comes from my friend Jenny, who has turned into a magnificent chef. Her recipes on The Picky Palate are truly extraordinary. It seems like just yesterday we were practicing for pom pom try-outs.... and filming ridiculous movies with ridiculous dances.... (sigh)

The recipe cards are made of folded cardstock, so that they stand up of their own accord. I wrote the ingredients on the front, and the method on the back. I tried using one last night, and it was so much easier than trying to keep a big cook book open while I beat my eggs and sugar.

Tie up your recipe card with a pretty bow, and it makes a simple, pretty way to share a good recipe.

I delight in these little butterflies now found in various craft stores.
Giving gifts is one of my favorite things to do. Not that I am good at it. I'm not. But, one day I'll get it.

Today is my niece Maggie's birthday. I have so much fun with her. Last week, I babysat her, Price and Lane so Kimmy could properly celebrate her own birthday. After putting Lane to bed, I came out to find Maggie with the game Memory all set up. She had a wicked gleam in her eye, for Maggie plays this game better than anyone, and was looking forward to a great conquest. Price and I had to combine forces, and she still won.

Last week, we had something of a dance party at my house. I played Vampire Weekend, and Maggie became an instant fan. She particularly likes the song Horchata. So, while we were playing, we both kept bursting out in song at various intervals with "Drinking Horchata" very loudly. Price was a good sport, but was surely annoyed by our constant, repetitive singing.

Then it was time for bed. Spontaneous storytime has become something of a ritual for us. Usually, they request a story about a certain topic. And I usually happen to have a story to match. Once they requested a story with a snail and a snake in it, and it was so weird, because that was just the perfect match for The Never Ending Story. It is a bit of an eighties film, so they didn't know it.

That night, Maggie said, "How about a story about..... drinking Horchata." Then burst out in delirious giggles. More requests soon poured in. These kids have great ideas, I could write books about most of them.

"How about... a bowl of fruit that comes to life." "No, no,.... the Statue of Liberty comes to life." "I liked the one about the Merry Go Round that came to life."

And so on! Although I liked the Horchata and Statue of Liberty ideas, the story that just felt right to share was The Legend of Holly Claus. She has her heart turned to snow by an evil wizard.

Happy Birthday Mags. Love Aunt Tiffy!

"Neither be cynical about love
For in the face of all aridity
It is as perennial as the grass."
~Max Ehrmann

Wednesday

2010-02-10T19:59:00.000-08:00

That does not keep me from having a terrible need of- shall I say the word- religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars.

~Vincent Van Gogh, in a letter to his brother

The "Feast of Fruits". Recently I discovered Greek yogurt. It has an amazing texture and flavor. To make an easy fruit dip, I just add some preserves such as apricot or blackberry, vanilla, brown sugar, and honey. It is an essential accompaniment to the Feast of Fruits (or... a fun name for I need to eat better.)
Little Pan got her first shots today. When we got home, she was hungry from all the trauma. Here is where she dines. My mom and me found this tray at an antique store. Tres Shabby Chic!
Kitty watching me type.

I am reading the most wonderful book called "A Natural History of the Senses" by Diane Ackerman. She includes some of the most beautiful quotes. Here is an example about Beethoven:
"When he wrote Gloria, he underwent a volcanic, shriek-to-the-heavens joy, but instead of dancing around in delight, he felt the need to convert it into a permanent, stored-up, transportable, and reproducible form of energy... a musical shout for joy, as it were, that all the world might hear, and still hear over and over again after he was dead and gone.
"The notes he jotted down only ever were and only ever will be a command from Beethoven to blow his eternal shout for joy, together with a set of instructions... exactly how to do so."

Anyways, it is an amazing book.

Now that it is February, let us remember those tragic, but inspiring lovers, Tristan and Isolde:

...a tale of endless yearning, longing, the bliss and wretchedness of love; world, power, fame, honour, chivalry, loyalty, and friendship all blown away like an unsubstantial dream; one thing alone left living- longing, longing, unquenchable, a yearning, a hunger, an anguishing forever renewing itself; one sole redemption- death, surcease, a sleep without awakening.

~Wagner on his "Tristan und Isolde" composition

A Music Bath or a Movie Bath?

2010-02-09T19:27:00.000-08:00

“Take a music bath once or twice a week for a few seasons, and you will find that it is to the soul what the water bath is to the body.”

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

What exactly is a music bath? Well, after reading this quote, I gave it some thought.
Probably, it is paying attention to nothing but the music for an extended period of time. I am ridden with guilt for not doing this more. I use music. I use it when I drive, I use it when I exercise or dance, I use it when I wash the tubbie. Seldom do I sit, quietly and attentive, while the music has my full attention.

Shame on me! But I remember the feeling of a music bath. I was in Israel, and we were required to be very culturally competent. One evening, an orchestra came and played for us in the grand hall. I was so fidgety and bored at first. Then I sort of surrendered to the music, and afterward I felt exactly like Mr. Holmes had described: like my soul had taken a bath.

Then there was the Jimmy Eat World concert I went to with Lyndsay. Don't even get me started on how I felt after that. But the next morning, I inexplicably sang "My Country, Tis of Thee" in the shower. With great fervor. My choir teacher, Mr. Harris... if only he could have heard. I even remembered all the verses.
Speaking of baths, this book reminds me a lot of.... someone I know. The only way to get her out of the tub, is to... you will just have to read the book. "King Bidgood's in the Bathtub"

To reward myself for getting of bed for an oh so early appointment, I listened to this album the whole way, and my sleepies were scattered like the shadows of night. Oh, it is so good.

My appointment was for my car. This nice guy named Pete always helps me. Today he printed out all these movies from Wikipedia he thinks I should watch! They are:

Central Station
Lemon Tree
City of God
The Motorcycle Diaries
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

So this is my chance to rediscover my cultural competency. Wish me luck!

“If music be the food of love, play on.”

William Shakespeare