Yesterday from noon to 6 p.m. I held a "garage" sale. It was actually in my apartment, as there is no garage here. I closed the doors to the two bedrooms and opened the door to the hall and did quite a brisk business. I sold most, though not all, of the "big" stuff, and a lot of smaller things.
And what were the first two items to go? The dvd player and the televison set. The most-asked-about items? The dvd player and the televsion set. The second most-asked-about item? The sewing machine -- which, while often talked about, still has not sold.
What sold the least? Books. LOL
Actually, that's not true. I sold quite a few books. It's just that I had so many that there are still many left. And it is true that they were much less popular than the dvd player and television set, and that many, many people looked over everything at the sale except the books.
It was an exhausting and nerve-wracking day, partly because I was only able to sleep 3 hours the night before. I was up early, trying to have everything ready by my noon opening time. I didn't have everything ready in time, but we went ahead and opened anyway, and somehow it all worked out. Actually, it worked out because I had several very capable friends there to help out and keep me sane. Without their helping hand, I have a feeling my sale would have not been very successful.
Before the sale, I had expected to have unpleasant feelings upon seeing strangers heartlessly going through my possessions. Strangely, that didn't really happen. Maybe because during the "rush" times I was too busy to think about it and during the slow times I was too tired to do anything but sit down and wish it were all over, but somehow I was able to distance myself from the "stuff." So much so, in fact, that what was left just seems like so much junk now, and I wish it were all gone. I wish the apartment were pretty much empty, producing an echo when I speak.
It will be soon. In a couple of weeks all the clutter will be gone, and it'll be just me and three suitcases. I'm looking forward to it.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Links to Enjoy
Here are a few more miscellaneous online places to go:
Vintage Images
"Vintage" (that is, old stuff) is all the rage right now. This site has free images from loooong ago for you to download for use in scrapbooking and paper arts, but I think the photos and ephemera are fascinating to just look at for their own sakes.
Neighborhood Profiles
Type in your zip code and learn all kinds of statistics about your town, from air quality index to income level.
Degree Confluence Project
"The goal of the project is to visit each of the latitude and longitude integer degree intersections in the world, and to take pictures at each location. The pictures, and stories about the visits, will then be posted here." Cool pictures of places no one else would ever have thought to document.
Mr. Picasso Head
Like the "vintage" toy of Mr. Potato Head (I had one of those, incidentally, as a child), you take pre-made parts and put them together to make a head. Unlike the old game, however, this is online, and the parts are Picasso-esque.
Collage Machine
Another fun art-toy thingy. Use this application to create an online collage.
Japanese Emoticons
Spice up your e-mail messages. These are lots more elaborate than just the classice sidewise smile :-) .
Vintage Images
"Vintage" (that is, old stuff) is all the rage right now. This site has free images from loooong ago for you to download for use in scrapbooking and paper arts, but I think the photos and ephemera are fascinating to just look at for their own sakes.
Neighborhood Profiles
Type in your zip code and learn all kinds of statistics about your town, from air quality index to income level.
Degree Confluence Project
"The goal of the project is to visit each of the latitude and longitude integer degree intersections in the world, and to take pictures at each location. The pictures, and stories about the visits, will then be posted here." Cool pictures of places no one else would ever have thought to document.
Mr. Picasso Head
Like the "vintage" toy of Mr. Potato Head (I had one of those, incidentally, as a child), you take pre-made parts and put them together to make a head. Unlike the old game, however, this is online, and the parts are Picasso-esque.
Collage Machine
Another fun art-toy thingy. Use this application to create an online collage.
Japanese Emoticons
Spice up your e-mail messages. These are lots more elaborate than just the classice sidewise smile :-) .
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Remembering the Earthquake
Twenty-one years ago today an earthquake that measured 8.1 on the Richter scale shook Mexico City and other parts of the country, causing immeasurable damage. The following morning, an aftershock measuring 7.6 furthered the destruction. Official figures put the number of dead at "only" about ten thousand, but we will probably never know how many really died -- maybe three times that many?
(For more information read a brief Wikipedia article about the quake. See photos of the destruction at the National Geophysical Data Center site.)
I was living here in Mexico City when it happened, and although the whole thing was scary, I got off pretty easily. I was without power for about a week and without phone service for quite a bit longer, but I didn't personally know anyone who died, nor did I directly witness any dramatic events or consequences. Only one building in my neighborhood was seriously damaged -- and it wasn't mine. I think my parents --in the U.S.A. -- had it worse than I did, wondering if I were all right. After all, the news reports in the United States talked about how "the city had been destroyed," which was an exaggeration.
However, I do remember the event every year on September 19th ... which not everyone does. Those who experienced the earthquake say, "Oh, yeah, it's the anniversary ..." when I mention it. We then briefly exchange stories of where we were when it happened, and then the subject gets changed to something else. I'd say it has become a pretty dim memory for many, if not most, people.
But a lot of folks that I come in daily contact with do not remember the event. The vast majority of my students were either infants at the time or had not even been born yet. The '85 quake is not even a dim memory for them; it's ancient history. That is so weird. Why, everybody knows that for ancient history you have to go back at least to the 1950's! (I was born in 1964.)
Thousands died in this disaster (many of whose bodies were never recovered) and many thousands more were injured and left homeless. While not as dramatic in many ways as Sept. 11, 2001 was for New York, the earthquake left behind a somewhat similar feeling in that it marked a Before and After for Mexico City. Economic and political crises had become frequent in the years leading up to 1985, but it wasn't until the quake, El Temblor del '85, that a lot of people realized that the sunny 70's -- in many ways a heydey for this corner of the world -- were over.
Twenty-one years later, there are still people living in the "temporary" camps set up for those who lost their homes. Not all the collapsed buildings have had their ruins towed away yet, either, though parks and other lovely spaces have sprung up on some destruction sites. You'd think these daily reminders would keep the public saddened when they think about the disaster. I'm sure many people are bitter and have a right to be; however, among the folks of my acquaintance the things most remembered about the quake -- or at least the ones most reminisced about -- are the hopeful aspects of it all:
-- The amazing discovery and rescue, days and even a week after the earthquake, of several newborn babies who survived in the maternity ward of the completely destroyed Hospital Juárez. (Those kids turned 21 in the last day or two.)
--The sight of Spanish opera tenor Placido Domingo staying on for days to search for survivors in the populous and hard-hit Tlatelolco neighborhood, where he had had relatives; his plea for help for the area brought out thousands of volunteers.
--The way friends and neighbors and strangers came together in solidarity, if for only a brief time, until the emergency had passed.
--The outpouring of practical assistance from nations all over the world, despite the authorities' initial statements that "the Mexican government has everything necessary to face this disaster."
I think we humans hope instinctively. I think there is a "hope device" somewhere in our spirit that, unless somehow completely and tragically destroyed, continues to pump out a hormone-like stream of impulses into our lives until the day we die. So strong is this tendency that we even project hope onto the past, remembering the good things more than the bad.
It's quite amazing, actually, when you think about it.
(For more information read a brief Wikipedia article about the quake. See photos of the destruction at the National Geophysical Data Center site.)
I was living here in Mexico City when it happened, and although the whole thing was scary, I got off pretty easily. I was without power for about a week and without phone service for quite a bit longer, but I didn't personally know anyone who died, nor did I directly witness any dramatic events or consequences. Only one building in my neighborhood was seriously damaged -- and it wasn't mine. I think my parents --in the U.S.A. -- had it worse than I did, wondering if I were all right. After all, the news reports in the United States talked about how "the city had been destroyed," which was an exaggeration.
However, I do remember the event every year on September 19th ... which not everyone does. Those who experienced the earthquake say, "Oh, yeah, it's the anniversary ..." when I mention it. We then briefly exchange stories of where we were when it happened, and then the subject gets changed to something else. I'd say it has become a pretty dim memory for many, if not most, people.
But a lot of folks that I come in daily contact with do not remember the event. The vast majority of my students were either infants at the time or had not even been born yet. The '85 quake is not even a dim memory for them; it's ancient history. That is so weird. Why, everybody knows that for ancient history you have to go back at least to the 1950's! (I was born in 1964.)
Thousands died in this disaster (many of whose bodies were never recovered) and many thousands more were injured and left homeless. While not as dramatic in many ways as Sept. 11, 2001 was for New York, the earthquake left behind a somewhat similar feeling in that it marked a Before and After for Mexico City. Economic and political crises had become frequent in the years leading up to 1985, but it wasn't until the quake, El Temblor del '85, that a lot of people realized that the sunny 70's -- in many ways a heydey for this corner of the world -- were over.
Twenty-one years later, there are still people living in the "temporary" camps set up for those who lost their homes. Not all the collapsed buildings have had their ruins towed away yet, either, though parks and other lovely spaces have sprung up on some destruction sites. You'd think these daily reminders would keep the public saddened when they think about the disaster. I'm sure many people are bitter and have a right to be; however, among the folks of my acquaintance the things most remembered about the quake -- or at least the ones most reminisced about -- are the hopeful aspects of it all:
-- The amazing discovery and rescue, days and even a week after the earthquake, of several newborn babies who survived in the maternity ward of the completely destroyed Hospital Juárez. (Those kids turned 21 in the last day or two.)
--The sight of Spanish opera tenor Placido Domingo staying on for days to search for survivors in the populous and hard-hit Tlatelolco neighborhood, where he had had relatives; his plea for help for the area brought out thousands of volunteers.
--The way friends and neighbors and strangers came together in solidarity, if for only a brief time, until the emergency had passed.
--The outpouring of practical assistance from nations all over the world, despite the authorities' initial statements that "the Mexican government has everything necessary to face this disaster."
I think we humans hope instinctively. I think there is a "hope device" somewhere in our spirit that, unless somehow completely and tragically destroyed, continues to pump out a hormone-like stream of impulses into our lives until the day we die. So strong is this tendency that we even project hope onto the past, remembering the good things more than the bad.
It's quite amazing, actually, when you think about it.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Olive Nut Sandwich
This is a great change-of-pace sandwich that I recently discovered. I originally got the idea from www.worldwiderecipes.com, though I've made some changes. For example, the recipe there called for parsley, which I changed to lettuce because I like the texture that lettuce adds -- and because I don´t usually keep parsley on hand!
Olive Nut Sandwich
2 slices whole-wheat, rye, or pumpernickel bread
2 tablespoons cream cheese, softened
6 pimento stuffed olives, sliced
2 tablespoons pecan or walnut halves, chopped
1/3 cup lettuce, very finely chopped
Lightly toast the bread. Spread on the cream cheese, then top with olive slices, chopped nuts, and lettuce chopped as finely as you can get it. Cut in two from corner to corner, and serve.
See a few more of my recipes.
Olive Nut Sandwich
2 slices whole-wheat, rye, or pumpernickel bread
2 tablespoons cream cheese, softened
6 pimento stuffed olives, sliced
2 tablespoons pecan or walnut halves, chopped
1/3 cup lettuce, very finely chopped
Lightly toast the bread. Spread on the cream cheese, then top with olive slices, chopped nuts, and lettuce chopped as finely as you can get it. Cut in two from corner to corner, and serve.
See a few more of my recipes.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Site-ings
Allow me to share a few miscellaneous web pages I have stumbled across recently. I don't know that there is a common thread running through them; if you find one, please leave a comment and let me know.
Sock Monkey Dress
The last few years have seen a resurgence of sock monkeys, I assume because of the nostalgia/vintage craze. I never had one of these growing up -- and I think I am grateful for that, as they seem quite sinister to me (kind of like clowns do). This link takes you to a dress made of sock monkeys faces. I sincerely admire the ingenious idea and wonderful craftsmanship used in this. Wearing such a dress, however, would surely cause me nightmares or worse. Now maybe if it were a Cookie Monster dress ...
Lost Ring Recovered
People nowadays are rude, insensitive, uncaring, self-centered ... But not everyone, and not always. Some still make a great effort to do a nice thing! I love to hear good news like this.
Oceangrams
Write a message, stick it into a virtual bottle, and set it afloat on the electronic sea. You can also pick up bottled messages that others have sent. Be sure to have your speakers on.
DeBrand Chocolates
Some family members of mine toured this chocolate factory in Fort Wayne, Indiana, recently, then sent me the web site. The chocolates are beautiful and delicious-looking. It's a good thing just looking isn't fattening. Hey, and on the site they let you enter for a free monthly drawing, too.
Middle East Map
How many countries in the Middle East and northern Africa can you identify on a map? It seems like we ought to make an effort to know the basic stuff about this hot spot of (former and current) world history ...
Floraphilia
Much more amazing than your average pictures of flowers. The artist sells prints of his photographs, but fortunately looking at them online is free. Food for the soul.
Sock Monkey Dress
The last few years have seen a resurgence of sock monkeys, I assume because of the nostalgia/vintage craze. I never had one of these growing up -- and I think I am grateful for that, as they seem quite sinister to me (kind of like clowns do). This link takes you to a dress made of sock monkeys faces. I sincerely admire the ingenious idea and wonderful craftsmanship used in this. Wearing such a dress, however, would surely cause me nightmares or worse. Now maybe if it were a Cookie Monster dress ...
Lost Ring Recovered
People nowadays are rude, insensitive, uncaring, self-centered ... But not everyone, and not always. Some still make a great effort to do a nice thing! I love to hear good news like this.
Oceangrams
Write a message, stick it into a virtual bottle, and set it afloat on the electronic sea. You can also pick up bottled messages that others have sent. Be sure to have your speakers on.
DeBrand Chocolates
Some family members of mine toured this chocolate factory in Fort Wayne, Indiana, recently, then sent me the web site. The chocolates are beautiful and delicious-looking. It's a good thing just looking isn't fattening. Hey, and on the site they let you enter for a free monthly drawing, too.
Middle East Map
How many countries in the Middle East and northern Africa can you identify on a map? It seems like we ought to make an effort to know the basic stuff about this hot spot of (former and current) world history ...
Floraphilia
Much more amazing than your average pictures of flowers. The artist sells prints of his photographs, but fortunately looking at them online is free. Food for the soul.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Chicken Tomato
.
Doesn’t this tomato look like a little hen? The leaves make the wings, and there are even black spots in the right places for eyes.
Grammy (my grandmother) sent me this photo a few days ago. The tomato came from one of the plants she has growing right outside her front door in east central Indiana. It was sown and nurtured by my Uncle Wayne (an awesome gardener with more than just a green thumb – his whole hand and arm are green!), who says it is a “golf ball tomato.” He starts all his plants from seeds, and this vine is now about seven feet high, held up by a wire cage. I think they ought to consider christening this variety the “chicken tomato.” :-P
Uncle Wayne’s son David (my cousin) took the picture, and when I saw it I was instantly enchanted. I like the light and shadow contrast in this photo, and isn’t the smooth bright red 'mater on the patterned aqua tablecloth striking? Now I see why the red and turquoise combination is hot right now! Thank you, Cousin David, for giving permission for me to post your very artistic photograph.
Doesn’t this tomato look like a little hen? The leaves make the wings, and there are even black spots in the right places for eyes.
Grammy (my grandmother) sent me this photo a few days ago. The tomato came from one of the plants she has growing right outside her front door in east central Indiana. It was sown and nurtured by my Uncle Wayne (an awesome gardener with more than just a green thumb – his whole hand and arm are green!), who says it is a “golf ball tomato.” He starts all his plants from seeds, and this vine is now about seven feet high, held up by a wire cage. I think they ought to consider christening this variety the “chicken tomato.” :-P
Uncle Wayne’s son David (my cousin) took the picture, and when I saw it I was instantly enchanted. I like the light and shadow contrast in this photo, and isn’t the smooth bright red 'mater on the patterned aqua tablecloth striking? Now I see why the red and turquoise combination is hot right now! Thank you, Cousin David, for giving permission for me to post your very artistic photograph.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Easy Sweet Potato Dessert
Recently I've been seeing a lot of sweet potatoes in the grocery store I frequent, so I figure it's time to start making this once again. Street vendors here in Mexico City sell something similar to this, so although the recipe is mine, the idea certainly did not originate with me. I like this because it is nutritious, it's easy to make, and the sweetness can easily be adjusted to suit most any taste.
Easy Sweet Potato Dessert
You'll need:
-sweet potatoes (I prefer the ones that are off-white inside)
-jelly or marmalade (strawberry or blackberry are my favorites)
-heavy cream, whipped cream, or Kool Whip
-chopped nuts (I like pecans)
Boil, bake, or steam your sweet potatoes until soft. Let cool, peel, and refrigerate. When ready to make the dessert, cut sweet potato into 1/2-inch slices and let sit until room temperature (or at least long enough to get the "refrigerator cold" off them). For each serving, place 3 or 4 slices of sweet potato in a small bowl. Top with a tablespoon or so of jelly or marmalade, then a dollop of cream, and finally a generous sprinkling of chopped nuts. Eat with a spoon.
Variations:
--If you like it really really sweet, drizzle sweetened condensed milk on it instead of the cream.
--Use maple syrup instead of jelly or marmalade, and omit the cream.
See a few more of my recipes.
Easy Sweet Potato Dessert
You'll need:
-sweet potatoes (I prefer the ones that are off-white inside)
-jelly or marmalade (strawberry or blackberry are my favorites)
-heavy cream, whipped cream, or Kool Whip
-chopped nuts (I like pecans)
Boil, bake, or steam your sweet potatoes until soft. Let cool, peel, and refrigerate. When ready to make the dessert, cut sweet potato into 1/2-inch slices and let sit until room temperature (or at least long enough to get the "refrigerator cold" off them). For each serving, place 3 or 4 slices of sweet potato in a small bowl. Top with a tablespoon or so of jelly or marmalade, then a dollop of cream, and finally a generous sprinkling of chopped nuts. Eat with a spoon.
Variations:
--If you like it really really sweet, drizzle sweetened condensed milk on it instead of the cream.
--Use maple syrup instead of jelly or marmalade, and omit the cream.
See a few more of my recipes.
Monday, August 28, 2006
New Beginning
.
This is another selection from my now-defunct e-card site. (Click the image to see it a little bit bigger.) It says, "The longest journey begins with a single step. Congratulations on your new beginning," and I thought that was appropriate to my situation right now, what with being in the middle of relocating and all.
I took this photo in northeastern Indiana in about the year 2001. I'm not sure what it is, but there is something about it that I really really like -- maybe the angle of the road? the exhuberant Queen Anne's lace at the left? the visual roughness of the asphalt, maybe, or the way that the road disappears into the brightest part of the image? Something.
This is another selection from my now-defunct e-card site. (Click the image to see it a little bit bigger.) It says, "The longest journey begins with a single step. Congratulations on your new beginning," and I thought that was appropriate to my situation right now, what with being in the middle of relocating and all.
I took this photo in northeastern Indiana in about the year 2001. I'm not sure what it is, but there is something about it that I really really like -- maybe the angle of the road? the exhuberant Queen Anne's lace at the left? the visual roughness of the asphalt, maybe, or the way that the road disappears into the brightest part of the image? Something.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Cutting a Swath through the Heartland
Here's a little experience the Dear Hubby (DH) and I had while together in Chicago last month:
Most of DH's experience with the United States (he's Peruvian) has been out east, in New Jersey and the Washington, D.C. area, so as we ran around northern Indiana together he would often come out with a comment beginning, "When I lived in New Jersey …." Since we were on our way to Chicago, I kept reminding him that We Were in the Midwest Now -- otherwise known as the "Heartland" -- and the Midwest is way different from the whole Jersey-New York area; people are nicer in the Midwest, friendlier and much less weird. Being in Chicago was going to be nothing like being in bizarre, scary, cold, self-consciously sophisticated New York City.
This claim of mine kept getting harder and harder to substantiate as we actually experienced Chicagoland, though. So many of the people we saw were incredibly strange! There was this one guy we saw on the subway. I know you are going to think I made this all up, but it really happened -- ask the DH if you don't believe me. This guy stepped right out of an old B movie stereotype and into our mostly empty train car. Chainsaw Man was an older fellow, wiry, with grizzled hair and stubbled face, halfway toothless, wearing very wrinkled, caked-with-dirt overalls. He was grinning and talking to himself, and he wasn't too steady on his feet even before the train started moving. He was carrying a rather large, bright orange, dirty electric chainsaw in his left hand. It was not in a case or in any way covered, and the cord was not even wound up into a little compact bundle, but almost trailed along the floor.
My first impusle was to check the chain part of the saw for blood. I saw none, but was frightened anyway. DH had rented The Texas Chainsaw Massacre on dvd only a few months before, and while I had done my best not to see that movie (knowing it would give me nightmares), I had been unavoidably subjected to snippets of it when I walked through the living room that day doing chores. What if this guy revved up his machine and started hacking away at us? The rational part of me sneered, "Where would he plug it in?" but the right side of my brain was genuinely scared. Well, half my right brain was. The other half was wanting to laugh out loud, wondering if this were a show and where the hidden cameras were. And yearning to take a photograph of this guy, achingly wishing I could dare to do so. Here was folk art, pop culture, and surrealism converging before my very eyes!
Chainsaw Man got on and stumbled over to a seat near us. The train started up and he wasn't ready and he nearly fell over. The chainsaw swung semi-wildly. My heart started thumping uncomfortably inside me. The teenaged girl seated across the aisle moved her bare leg just in time and just enough to avoid being grazed by the business end of the saw. She had a little look of alarm in her eyes, too. Ah, so it wasn't just me! Chainsaw Man didn't notice he was being a bit reckless; he was mumbling under his breath. Must have been upbeat mumbling, though, since he looked cheerful enough, and even cackled to himself a time or two.
I was relieved when he finally sat down and I could convince myself that DH and I would be getting out of the subway alive enough to ride another day. Our stop was the next station, and we got off as quickly as we could. Only then did I allow myself to shake my head and laugh in amazement at the things that happen in real life -- even in the Midwest. I take it back about people being less weird there.
Most of DH's experience with the United States (he's Peruvian) has been out east, in New Jersey and the Washington, D.C. area, so as we ran around northern Indiana together he would often come out with a comment beginning, "When I lived in New Jersey …." Since we were on our way to Chicago, I kept reminding him that We Were in the Midwest Now -- otherwise known as the "Heartland" -- and the Midwest is way different from the whole Jersey-New York area; people are nicer in the Midwest, friendlier and much less weird. Being in Chicago was going to be nothing like being in bizarre, scary, cold, self-consciously sophisticated New York City.
This claim of mine kept getting harder and harder to substantiate as we actually experienced Chicagoland, though. So many of the people we saw were incredibly strange! There was this one guy we saw on the subway. I know you are going to think I made this all up, but it really happened -- ask the DH if you don't believe me. This guy stepped right out of an old B movie stereotype and into our mostly empty train car. Chainsaw Man was an older fellow, wiry, with grizzled hair and stubbled face, halfway toothless, wearing very wrinkled, caked-with-dirt overalls. He was grinning and talking to himself, and he wasn't too steady on his feet even before the train started moving. He was carrying a rather large, bright orange, dirty electric chainsaw in his left hand. It was not in a case or in any way covered, and the cord was not even wound up into a little compact bundle, but almost trailed along the floor.
My first impusle was to check the chain part of the saw for blood. I saw none, but was frightened anyway. DH had rented The Texas Chainsaw Massacre on dvd only a few months before, and while I had done my best not to see that movie (knowing it would give me nightmares), I had been unavoidably subjected to snippets of it when I walked through the living room that day doing chores. What if this guy revved up his machine and started hacking away at us? The rational part of me sneered, "Where would he plug it in?" but the right side of my brain was genuinely scared. Well, half my right brain was. The other half was wanting to laugh out loud, wondering if this were a show and where the hidden cameras were. And yearning to take a photograph of this guy, achingly wishing I could dare to do so. Here was folk art, pop culture, and surrealism converging before my very eyes!
Chainsaw Man got on and stumbled over to a seat near us. The train started up and he wasn't ready and he nearly fell over. The chainsaw swung semi-wildly. My heart started thumping uncomfortably inside me. The teenaged girl seated across the aisle moved her bare leg just in time and just enough to avoid being grazed by the business end of the saw. She had a little look of alarm in her eyes, too. Ah, so it wasn't just me! Chainsaw Man didn't notice he was being a bit reckless; he was mumbling under his breath. Must have been upbeat mumbling, though, since he looked cheerful enough, and even cackled to himself a time or two.
I was relieved when he finally sat down and I could convince myself that DH and I would be getting out of the subway alive enough to ride another day. Our stop was the next station, and we got off as quickly as we could. Only then did I allow myself to shake my head and laugh in amazement at the things that happen in real life -- even in the Midwest. I take it back about people being less weird there.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Taking a Load Off
Many things have happened since I last updated this blog about 2 months ago. Dear Hubby and I spent a nice two and a half weeks on vacation with my parents in Indiana, U.S.A., in July. I came back to Mexico City to finish up at work and take care of winding up the household stuff in order to move permanently back to the United States later this year; DH stayed, finding a job in Chicagoland to live on in the meantime. We are well embarked on this major relocation venture! Woo hoo!
Since I’ve been back I’ve spent a lot of time just going through and getting rid of stuff. Actually, I’ve been doing this sporadically for the last year or so, anticipating this move. However, since the move is now actually imminent, the garage-sale-esque activity has intensified greatly. And whereas before I was just getting rid of stuff I didn’t really want or use, now I am cutting down much closer to the bone and starting to divest myself of things which, were I able to keep them, I would not get rid of, at least not at this time. Everything must go! rings the going-out-of-business ad copy. It’s pretty much like that for me; all I will be able to take with me is what will fit in two large suitcases and a carry-on. It’s kind of exhilarating!
Clothes that I don’t wear get donated to those who can use them. Books and kitchen items and decorations and craft supplies and other good-condition miscellany I take to work and try to sell, tag sale style, to my colleagues in the Teachers’ Lounge. That which doesn’t sell, and large items like pieces of furniture, I hope to milk for whatever I can get at a “real” garage sale (sans garage) shortly before I leave town for good.
And it keeps getting easier, and it keeps feeling better and better. It seems like it was harder to get rid of the unwanted junk way-back-when than it is to part with the stuff I like now. It’s a lot of work, yes, but it hardly hurts at all anymore. How much good it has done me to climb out from under this pile of possessions! I’d heard and read many times about how having stuff weighs you down, and yeah, I understood that, intellectually, and could repeat the platitudes … but I didn’t really know it. I’m starting to know it now. Thank you, God! What a delicious blessing!
So far I’ve just barely made a dent in the mountain of stuff, and already I am enjoying multiple benefits. What will it be like when I’m down to just the basics, to having only the things I really need (plus a few items of sentimental value)? I like to imagine that I will finally be able to live up to my name, Robin – finally be light enough to fly.
Since I’ve been back I’ve spent a lot of time just going through and getting rid of stuff. Actually, I’ve been doing this sporadically for the last year or so, anticipating this move. However, since the move is now actually imminent, the garage-sale-esque activity has intensified greatly. And whereas before I was just getting rid of stuff I didn’t really want or use, now I am cutting down much closer to the bone and starting to divest myself of things which, were I able to keep them, I would not get rid of, at least not at this time. Everything must go! rings the going-out-of-business ad copy. It’s pretty much like that for me; all I will be able to take with me is what will fit in two large suitcases and a carry-on. It’s kind of exhilarating!
Clothes that I don’t wear get donated to those who can use them. Books and kitchen items and decorations and craft supplies and other good-condition miscellany I take to work and try to sell, tag sale style, to my colleagues in the Teachers’ Lounge. That which doesn’t sell, and large items like pieces of furniture, I hope to milk for whatever I can get at a “real” garage sale (sans garage) shortly before I leave town for good.
And it keeps getting easier, and it keeps feeling better and better. It seems like it was harder to get rid of the unwanted junk way-back-when than it is to part with the stuff I like now. It’s a lot of work, yes, but it hardly hurts at all anymore. How much good it has done me to climb out from under this pile of possessions! I’d heard and read many times about how having stuff weighs you down, and yeah, I understood that, intellectually, and could repeat the platitudes … but I didn’t really know it. I’m starting to know it now. Thank you, God! What a delicious blessing!
So far I’ve just barely made a dent in the mountain of stuff, and already I am enjoying multiple benefits. What will it be like when I’m down to just the basics, to having only the things I really need (plus a few items of sentimental value)? I like to imagine that I will finally be able to live up to my name, Robin – finally be light enough to fly.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Leftover Christmas Card Exchange
Well, so Christmas is fast approaching ...
LOL! Not really. God forbid that we should extend the Christmas season all the way back to July -- though we would do well to have more Christmas spirit year-round. However, since the holidays *do* have a way of creeping up on me, I'm starting early this year. I've started an exchange of leftover unused Christmas cards over on Swap-bot. Come participate!
http://www.swap-bot.com/swap/show/362
Deadline to sign up: July 15, 2006
Deadline to send: July 30th, 2006
Synopsis:
Each participant will have two partners. Send each partner 4 - 6 unused, mint-condition Christmas cards with matching envelopes. Send four if your cards are the large, fancy, foil-embellished ones, six if they are smaller and less showy, five if they are somewhere in between. If in doubt, send more than necessary, never fewer. The cards can be all the same or assorted. Religious and secular cards, store-bought and handmade are welcome -- as are cards with text in any language -- but in order to keep a sharp focus here, let's limit this swap to Christmas cards (rather than other winter holidays).
LOL! Not really. God forbid that we should extend the Christmas season all the way back to July -- though we would do well to have more Christmas spirit year-round. However, since the holidays *do* have a way of creeping up on me, I'm starting early this year. I've started an exchange of leftover unused Christmas cards over on Swap-bot. Come participate!
http://www.swap-bot.com/swap/show/362
Deadline to sign up: July 15, 2006
Deadline to send: July 30th, 2006
Synopsis:
Each participant will have two partners. Send each partner 4 - 6 unused, mint-condition Christmas cards with matching envelopes. Send four if your cards are the large, fancy, foil-embellished ones, six if they are smaller and less showy, five if they are somewhere in between. If in doubt, send more than necessary, never fewer. The cards can be all the same or assorted. Religious and secular cards, store-bought and handmade are welcome -- as are cards with text in any language -- but in order to keep a sharp focus here, let's limit this swap to Christmas cards (rather than other winter holidays).
Saturday, May 20, 2006
An Unwilling Gilligan
Dh Eddie and I watched the movie Cast Away on dvd last night. Despite Tom Hanks' starring role (I've never seen a movie of his that I've completely disliked), I wasn't expecting to really get into this one; the man-on-a-desert-island theme just never was my thing. I mean, even as a young, voracious reader and lover of classics I never got all the way through Stevenson's book Robinson Crusoe.
Well, I did like it, and very much. What's more, there were parts of it that I didn't like, which in my book is positive, since it means I was using at least semi-critical thinking skills. I didn't like the crash scene or the part where Hanks' character Chuck Noland was adrift in the rubber raft -- those parts were genuinely scary. I assume that was the filmmakers' intention, so it was very effective.
My real disappointment, though, was the great religious hole in this movie. Never once was there a reference to God. Polls show that a majority of people in the United States (where the Noland character was from) believe in a supreme being ... and even if you didn't, wouldn't you be likely to at least have yearnings towards one if you were cast away alone on a desert island after going through an ultra-traumatic plane crash? If the character had had a bad experience with religion in his former life, would he not be much more likely to at least be angry with God than to never once make reference to a deity? The saying "there are no athiests in foxholes" is somewhat trite, but it's pretty much true. This film's story is good, but it would have been much richer if this very real aspect of humanity -- religion -- had been included.
Having said that, and while religion and God had no place in it, the movie did have a great spiritual theme of hope. Though the Noland character suffers devastating loss, he comes through it with an enduring sense of hope in the future. This was a twist that, at least for me, was unexpected and very uplifting. How easy it would have been to have left the end of the story fatalistically tragic, or even neutral ... but it is definitely hopeful. We need a lot more stuff like this in popular culture nowadays, stuff encouraging people to live rather than to choose death and destruction.
Noland is alone on an island for several years, which means Hanks is the only actor on the screen for much of the the film. I never felt bored with this, though, or that another person was needed. Tom Hanks acted superbly once again. The images of the island, the ocean, and Noland's island life were very well done as well. The old writing adage "show, don't tell" was evident here; we see how hopeless it seems that Noland will ever be rescued and how tedious and uncomfortable life on the island is, even without any dialogue to say so. The "Wilson" character, too, is wonderful; Noland's creation of this imaginary friend speaks beautifully about our need for human relationships and leaves a tantalizing thought in one's mind about the origin of idol worship among our "primitive" ancestors ...
So thank you, Eddie, for bringing this movie home from the rental place and watching it with me. You choose really good movies sometimes. :-)
Well, I did like it, and very much. What's more, there were parts of it that I didn't like, which in my book is positive, since it means I was using at least semi-critical thinking skills. I didn't like the crash scene or the part where Hanks' character Chuck Noland was adrift in the rubber raft -- those parts were genuinely scary. I assume that was the filmmakers' intention, so it was very effective.
My real disappointment, though, was the great religious hole in this movie. Never once was there a reference to God. Polls show that a majority of people in the United States (where the Noland character was from) believe in a supreme being ... and even if you didn't, wouldn't you be likely to at least have yearnings towards one if you were cast away alone on a desert island after going through an ultra-traumatic plane crash? If the character had had a bad experience with religion in his former life, would he not be much more likely to at least be angry with God than to never once make reference to a deity? The saying "there are no athiests in foxholes" is somewhat trite, but it's pretty much true. This film's story is good, but it would have been much richer if this very real aspect of humanity -- religion -- had been included.
Having said that, and while religion and God had no place in it, the movie did have a great spiritual theme of hope. Though the Noland character suffers devastating loss, he comes through it with an enduring sense of hope in the future. This was a twist that, at least for me, was unexpected and very uplifting. How easy it would have been to have left the end of the story fatalistically tragic, or even neutral ... but it is definitely hopeful. We need a lot more stuff like this in popular culture nowadays, stuff encouraging people to live rather than to choose death and destruction.
Noland is alone on an island for several years, which means Hanks is the only actor on the screen for much of the the film. I never felt bored with this, though, or that another person was needed. Tom Hanks acted superbly once again. The images of the island, the ocean, and Noland's island life were very well done as well. The old writing adage "show, don't tell" was evident here; we see how hopeless it seems that Noland will ever be rescued and how tedious and uncomfortable life on the island is, even without any dialogue to say so. The "Wilson" character, too, is wonderful; Noland's creation of this imaginary friend speaks beautifully about our need for human relationships and leaves a tantalizing thought in one's mind about the origin of idol worship among our "primitive" ancestors ...
So thank you, Eddie, for bringing this movie home from the rental place and watching it with me. You choose really good movies sometimes. :-)
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Advice from My Mom that I Actually Follow
Happy Mother's Day, everyone!
Here in Mexico, Mother's Day is always on May 10th, regardless of which day of the week that falls on. This year it was Wednesday.
A few years back I got to thinkin' about all the things my mom has taught me that has actually turned out to be very useful. I wrote a little about it here. Have a look and see if your mom gave you similar advice. :-)
Here in Mexico, Mother's Day is always on May 10th, regardless of which day of the week that falls on. This year it was Wednesday.
A few years back I got to thinkin' about all the things my mom has taught me that has actually turned out to be very useful. I wrote a little about it here. Have a look and see if your mom gave you similar advice. :-)
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Surimi and Melon Salad
This recipe came to me recently via the wonderful World Wide Recipes daily mailing list, though I have modified it a bit. I made it yesterday because it has been hot here lately and I thought this salad would be refreshing. It certainly was! The combination of surimi and melon seemed a little strange at first, but once I got used to it, I loved this salad! Served cold, it is guaranteed to refresh even a desert dweller.
The recipe originally called for crab meat, but since I can't afford that, I used crab surimi. The lettuce is my own addition; I think it adds interesting texture and takes the edge off of the unusual sweetness of the salad.
Surimi and Melon Salad
2 cups crableg surimi, chopped
1 tablespoon lime juice
1/2 cantaloupe, peeled, seeded, and chopped into pieces roughly the same size as the surimi pieces
1 cup cooked white rice
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup sour cream
salt and pepper to taste
4 cups lettuce, finely chopped
Put the surimi, lime juice, rice, mayonnaise, sour cream, and salt and pepper into a bowl and stir until well mixed. Add the melon and stir gently until combined. Serve immediately or refrigerate for up to several hours. Serve well-chilled on a bed of lettuce -- or mix the lettuce in with the rest of the salad before serving.
You can do the first step a day or two before serving, if desired, and refrigerate, adding the melon on the day you plan to serve the salad.
This yields 2 or 3 main dish servings or 5 or 6 side salad servings.
See a few more of my recipes.
The recipe originally called for crab meat, but since I can't afford that, I used crab surimi. The lettuce is my own addition; I think it adds interesting texture and takes the edge off of the unusual sweetness of the salad.
Surimi and Melon Salad
2 cups crableg surimi, chopped
1 tablespoon lime juice
1/2 cantaloupe, peeled, seeded, and chopped into pieces roughly the same size as the surimi pieces
1 cup cooked white rice
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup sour cream
salt and pepper to taste
4 cups lettuce, finely chopped
Put the surimi, lime juice, rice, mayonnaise, sour cream, and salt and pepper into a bowl and stir until well mixed. Add the melon and stir gently until combined. Serve immediately or refrigerate for up to several hours. Serve well-chilled on a bed of lettuce -- or mix the lettuce in with the rest of the salad before serving.
You can do the first step a day or two before serving, if desired, and refrigerate, adding the melon on the day you plan to serve the salad.
This yields 2 or 3 main dish servings or 5 or 6 side salad servings.
See a few more of my recipes.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Snail mail online
Through the years I have been involved in many an exchange of various items via snail mail. This swap activity has accelerated in the past couple of years as I've been active in online snail mail art and exchange sites and groups such as www.nervousness.org, www.postcardx.net, various Yahoo groups, and others.
Uh, wait a minute ... online snail mail?
Yes, it sounds very strange, if you stop to think about it. Wasn't e-mail and the whole Internet deal supposed to make snail mail obsolete? Yeah, and personal computers were supposed to take us into a paperless society, and yet we are using even more paper in our homes and offices now than before.
Actually, the Internet and snail mail exchanges are great partners. See, online you set up a swap with a cool person -- or several cool people -- whom you would never have known existed if it hadn't been for the Internet. Then you send the stuff via snail mail, and aside from receiving whatever it is you are exchanging, you get to see the interesting postage stamps, open a physical envelope, and try to imagine all the places the letters passed through on their way from Timbuktu to you.
Pretty cool.
And by the way, I am hosting an exchange of freebie bookmarks (you know, the kind given away free with an advertisement or a public service message). The deadline to sign up for it is April 30th, and everyone is welcome to participate, so if this sounds interesting, have a look at:
http://www.swap-bot.com/swap/show/130
Uh, wait a minute ... online snail mail?
Yes, it sounds very strange, if you stop to think about it. Wasn't e-mail and the whole Internet deal supposed to make snail mail obsolete? Yeah, and personal computers were supposed to take us into a paperless society, and yet we are using even more paper in our homes and offices now than before.
Actually, the Internet and snail mail exchanges are great partners. See, online you set up a swap with a cool person -- or several cool people -- whom you would never have known existed if it hadn't been for the Internet. Then you send the stuff via snail mail, and aside from receiving whatever it is you are exchanging, you get to see the interesting postage stamps, open a physical envelope, and try to imagine all the places the letters passed through on their way from Timbuktu to you.
Pretty cool.
And by the way, I am hosting an exchange of freebie bookmarks (you know, the kind given away free with an advertisement or a public service message). The deadline to sign up for it is April 30th, and everyone is welcome to participate, so if this sounds interesting, have a look at:
http://www.swap-bot.com/swap/show/130
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Easter Sunday
He is risen! Truly He is risen!
Thank you, God, for overcoming death, and for including us in your plan for Life.
Yesterday morning dh and I attended a Via Matrix (similar devotion to the Via Crucis, but with more meditation on the sorrows of Our Lady) at the little chapel next to the nursing home where I volunteer on Saturdays. It is a small chapel, but since it attended to by priests of the nearby (stone's throw away) Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the liturgies are always lovingly done. There were only maybe 20 people in attendance, but there were three liturgical vestment-clad altar boys (about 10 years old), one carrying the cross and two with candles-on-a-stick. There was an organist and a fabulous, opera-quality male singer who produced truly wonderful, majestic music. The chapel itself is maybe a hundred years old, and copiously decorated for such a small, little-known church. I was so glad we were among the few who had decided to attend! Unfortunately, my camera didn't cooperate; the batteries were low and I was unable to take any pictures.
Last evening we went to Easter Vigil Mass at our usual San Cayetano. It started at 9 p.m. and lasted approximately three hours. Ever since my first one six years ago, I've always loved Easter Vigil Mass! First, the "new fire" rite outside the church, then the procession into the nave, with all lights off and the place illuminated by the candles each person holds. Then the nine Bible readings, summarizing the story of salvation, each one accompanied by a Psalm and a prayer. Then the baptisms and confirmations, and finally holy communion. What a blessing to be able to be present at all of this.
The photos today show dh and myself with our candles at the beginning of the Vigil Mass.
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Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 2,903
Friday, April 14, 2006
Good Friday
Yesterday, Holy Thursday, dh and I went to the 6 p.m. Mass at our parish, San Cayetano. During the homily Fr. Argimiro washed the feet of twelve men from the congregation, as is customary on this day. After Mass we went for coffee (I had a McFlurry, actually), then returned for an hour of Eucharistic adoration at 9 p.m.
Today we attended the Via Crucis (Way of the Cross) at the same place. We walked there from home, which took about 25 minutes. Since the inside of our church is large and very lofty, they hold the Via Crucis inside it. The procession goes around inside the nave. Though most people participate from their seats, anyone who wants to is welcome to join the procession and help carry the cross and candles. I'd never participated in the procession before, but I did today, and even carried one of the big candles (on the top of a stick -- anyone who knows the proper name for the candle-on-a-stick, please leave a comment!) for one station.
After the Via Crucis we came home and ate, then returned to church for the 5:00 liturgical service. First were the readings, then adoration of the cross, in which everyone who wants to goes up to the big crucifix and kisses Jesus' feet. There must have been several hundred people at the service, because it took like half an hour for everyone to do this -- and there were two lines! After the adoration part was the communion rite.
I like these high holy days because there is so much solemnity and ceremony and incense. Love those "smells and bells"! I was overjoyed to see almost thirty acolytes at both Mass yesterday and the adoration service this evening! I'd never seen that many in one place at one time -- except maybe on t.v. during a papal Mass. The ones at our chuch are mostly males, though there are a few females, and of all ages, from about, oh, eight years old on up to mature men. The photo above shows some of the adult men acolytes getting the crucifix ready for the people to kiss today.
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Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 2,595
Monday, April 10, 2006
Peruvian Elections
Yesterday there were general elections in Peru, my dear hubby's native land. He was able to vote here in Mexico City, along with many other Peruvians. The voting was held at a school in an area of the city in which I had not been before. As in many parts of this city, San Juan was a little picturesque town before it was swallowed up in the megalopolis. Though it is just another neighborhood now, you can tell by its Colonial style walled-in parish church, shown here, that it was once well outside the city limits.
Here's dh casting his ballot. He's dressed (sort of) in the colors of the Peruvian flag -- red and white.
After casting their ballots, voters' fingers were stained as a measure against fraud. Here dh is showing his stained fingers and his Peruvian national identity card.
There is always a good turn-out because voting is obligatory by law for Peruvians citizens, and those who do not do it are subject to a fine. Most of dh's relatives live and voted in Peru itself, but some others participated in the elections from as far away as Costa Rica, the U.S.A., and Japan. A cousin living in South Africa was not able to get to his designated polling place, hundreds of miles from his home, though.
Official results as to who got the most votes are still not in, but since no candidate got over 50%, there will be another round of voting. I hope they hold it in the same place; I enjoyed that part of town and wouldn't mind an excuse to visit it again.
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Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 2,234
Here's dh casting his ballot. He's dressed (sort of) in the colors of the Peruvian flag -- red and white.
After casting their ballots, voters' fingers were stained as a measure against fraud. Here dh is showing his stained fingers and his Peruvian national identity card.
There is always a good turn-out because voting is obligatory by law for Peruvians citizens, and those who do not do it are subject to a fine. Most of dh's relatives live and voted in Peru itself, but some others participated in the elections from as far away as Costa Rica, the U.S.A., and Japan. A cousin living in South Africa was not able to get to his designated polling place, hundreds of miles from his home, though.
Official results as to who got the most votes are still not in, but since no candidate got over 50%, there will be another round of voting. I hope they hold it in the same place; I enjoyed that part of town and wouldn't mind an excuse to visit it again.
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Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 2,234
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Palm Sunday
Today is Palm Sunday, which I love in Mexico because of the artisan-woven palm figures for sale at street stands outside all of the churches here. You can buy dozens of different models, from the most simple palm fronds to very elaborately woven crucifixes involving palm leaves, stalks of wheat, and other natural and manufactured materials, all of them very economical. They are carried in the Palm Sunday procession into the church, often together with chamomile, rosemary, or other aromatic herbs.
We went to 10 a.m. Mass at San Cayetano church (our parish), and I took a few pictures of the palm weavers-and-sellers at the door. They are not the best photos in the world, but they do give you an idea of the local "color" on this day.
This third picture shows dh (in red at left) asking the price of an item he liked.
And here's the one I ended up buying for myself -- in the shape of a Eucharistic monstrance, bedecked with a little glitter. It is a wonderful example of folk art -- and cost only 10 pesos (less than the equivalent of one U.S. dollar). It's green and supple now, but in time with dry to a straw color.
Finally, here's another image from my defunct e-card site. This was one that I had available to send for Palm Sunday. It shows the close up of one of the less elaborate, more usual palm figures.
Today was also national election day in Peru, dh's homeland. He voted here in Mexico City ... but that's a topic for another day -- namely, tomorrow.
__________________________________________________________________
Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 1,998
We went to 10 a.m. Mass at San Cayetano church (our parish), and I took a few pictures of the palm weavers-and-sellers at the door. They are not the best photos in the world, but they do give you an idea of the local "color" on this day.
This third picture shows dh (in red at left) asking the price of an item he liked.
And here's the one I ended up buying for myself -- in the shape of a Eucharistic monstrance, bedecked with a little glitter. It is a wonderful example of folk art -- and cost only 10 pesos (less than the equivalent of one U.S. dollar). It's green and supple now, but in time with dry to a straw color.
Finally, here's another image from my defunct e-card site. This was one that I had available to send for Palm Sunday. It shows the close up of one of the less elaborate, more usual palm figures.
Today was also national election day in Peru, dh's homeland. He voted here in Mexico City ... but that's a topic for another day -- namely, tomorrow.
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Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 1,998
Friday, April 07, 2006
Chocolate strength
Strength is the capacity to break a chocolate bar into four pieces with your bare hands - and then eat just one of the pieces.
Isn't that the truth!
This quote came to me as an e-mail forward. It was one of several about chocolate in the message, most of which I had heard before, but this was the saying that stood out as most meaningful to me.
Self-control. I often don't have nearly enough of it. I remember growing up and Mom talking about the evils of "instant gratification." That's a hard term for a little kid to understand. For a long time, I didn't understand what it meant, but the idea came across loud and clear that, whatever it was, Mom didn't approve of it! (lol)
When I got older, I learned that we were a middle class family, and that one of the important middle class values is that of not seeking instant gratification. We were supposed to work diligently and consistently towards harder-to-reach but much more satisfying goals than those that come easily and fast. For example, you save up for the down payment on a house before you trade your used car in for a snazzy, new model. Or, in other words (more at a child's level), you save your nickels for a month to buy that record you want instead of spending the money you have today on a candy bar.
I'm glad I got that lesson, and I'm glad I internalized it -- for the most part. I never did internalize it totally, 100%, and I'm glad about that, too. Because, frankly, instant gratification can be a lot of fun! Not as a lifestyle, of course, but occasionally, once in awhile, it can be soul nourishing. Diligent, consistent effort is the way to go most of the time, but if you never spontaneously take a day off and blow a little money on something frivolous, you are liable to end up with a very dour outlook on life -- and a very dour look on your face.
So while I consider breaking a chocolate bar into four pieces with your bare hands and then eating just one of the pieces to be the more admirable of the two behaviors and the way to proceed most of the time, I certainly would not advise being obsessive about it. There are times when you actually need all four pieces. After all, like they say, "All things in moderation." Even moderation itself.
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Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 1,731
Isn't that the truth!
This quote came to me as an e-mail forward. It was one of several about chocolate in the message, most of which I had heard before, but this was the saying that stood out as most meaningful to me.
Self-control. I often don't have nearly enough of it. I remember growing up and Mom talking about the evils of "instant gratification." That's a hard term for a little kid to understand. For a long time, I didn't understand what it meant, but the idea came across loud and clear that, whatever it was, Mom didn't approve of it! (lol)
When I got older, I learned that we were a middle class family, and that one of the important middle class values is that of not seeking instant gratification. We were supposed to work diligently and consistently towards harder-to-reach but much more satisfying goals than those that come easily and fast. For example, you save up for the down payment on a house before you trade your used car in for a snazzy, new model. Or, in other words (more at a child's level), you save your nickels for a month to buy that record you want instead of spending the money you have today on a candy bar.
I'm glad I got that lesson, and I'm glad I internalized it -- for the most part. I never did internalize it totally, 100%, and I'm glad about that, too. Because, frankly, instant gratification can be a lot of fun! Not as a lifestyle, of course, but occasionally, once in awhile, it can be soul nourishing. Diligent, consistent effort is the way to go most of the time, but if you never spontaneously take a day off and blow a little money on something frivolous, you are liable to end up with a very dour outlook on life -- and a very dour look on your face.
So while I consider breaking a chocolate bar into four pieces with your bare hands and then eating just one of the pieces to be the more admirable of the two behaviors and the way to proceed most of the time, I certainly would not advise being obsessive about it. There are times when you actually need all four pieces. After all, like they say, "All things in moderation." Even moderation itself.
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Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 1,731
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Time is flowing like a river ...
You can't turn back the clock, but you can wind it up again.
- Bonnie Prudden
I had never heard of Bonnie Prudden when I first read this quote the other day, but I loved the words, as they can interpreted in several different and very satisfying ways. I Googled her name and discovered she is the originator of myotherapy, which I gather is a kind of massage therapy for muscle pain and dysfunction. Knowing that adds yet another dimension of meaning to her quote.
You can't turn back the clock ... I can't go back in time, I can't do over what's already been done, I can't do what I didn't do in season. There are a lot of things we humans have control over, but the flow of time is not one of them. Oh, I can control and am responsible for what I do with my time, but there's nothing I can do to make time go faster or slow down or stop altogether. At least in this life we are subject to its laws. When I don't accept this fact, I am maladjusted to reality. Thus, the first part of the Serenity Prayer: God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change ...
But you can wind it up again. I don't have control over everything, but I do have control over a lot of things -- such as how I respond to what gets thrown at me. Things will run down, get used up, be over, but they don't have to stay run down, used up, and over. We can renew our lives. True, physical youth leaves and doesn't come back, but other, wonderful things come in its stead. I can renew my relationships, my knowledge, my experiences and my general experience. I can not only wind up, but actually rev up, my spiritual life. The courage to change the things I can ...
A couple of years ago I turned 40 years old. It was weird -- still is -- to think of myself as being in my forties; I had just barely gotten used to the idea of being in my thirties! Perhaps my soul is an eternal 26-year-old. And yet, I do not regret my age. I don't mind saying how old I am when people ask, and I don't use "anti-aging" creams and such. I have a few gray hairs I am not considering dyeing. I am actually disappointed when people say I look younger than I am; I want to look 42! Though I lived a lot of great things in my youth, I wouldn't go back and do it again -- not now, not when I know the beginning of the insight of maturity. And the wisdom to know the difference.
I don't think I would turn the clock back even if I could. I do want to keep winding it up, though, for a while yet.
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Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 1,342
- Bonnie Prudden
I had never heard of Bonnie Prudden when I first read this quote the other day, but I loved the words, as they can interpreted in several different and very satisfying ways. I Googled her name and discovered she is the originator of myotherapy, which I gather is a kind of massage therapy for muscle pain and dysfunction. Knowing that adds yet another dimension of meaning to her quote.
You can't turn back the clock ... I can't go back in time, I can't do over what's already been done, I can't do what I didn't do in season. There are a lot of things we humans have control over, but the flow of time is not one of them. Oh, I can control and am responsible for what I do with my time, but there's nothing I can do to make time go faster or slow down or stop altogether. At least in this life we are subject to its laws. When I don't accept this fact, I am maladjusted to reality. Thus, the first part of the Serenity Prayer: God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change ...
But you can wind it up again. I don't have control over everything, but I do have control over a lot of things -- such as how I respond to what gets thrown at me. Things will run down, get used up, be over, but they don't have to stay run down, used up, and over. We can renew our lives. True, physical youth leaves and doesn't come back, but other, wonderful things come in its stead. I can renew my relationships, my knowledge, my experiences and my general experience. I can not only wind up, but actually rev up, my spiritual life. The courage to change the things I can ...
A couple of years ago I turned 40 years old. It was weird -- still is -- to think of myself as being in my forties; I had just barely gotten used to the idea of being in my thirties! Perhaps my soul is an eternal 26-year-old. And yet, I do not regret my age. I don't mind saying how old I am when people ask, and I don't use "anti-aging" creams and such. I have a few gray hairs I am not considering dyeing. I am actually disappointed when people say I look younger than I am; I want to look 42! Though I lived a lot of great things in my youth, I wouldn't go back and do it again -- not now, not when I know the beginning of the insight of maturity. And the wisdom to know the difference.
I don't think I would turn the clock back even if I could. I do want to keep winding it up, though, for a while yet.
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Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 1,342
Monday, April 03, 2006
Chowder Chatter
Yesterday I put the ingredients for ham chowder in the crock pot and turned it on low when we left the house at about 9 a.m. to go to the monthly retreat of dh's prayer group. When we got back at about 4:30 p.m. it was cooked, but still not ready; the potatoes had not yet started falling apart. We ate it about 8 p.m. and it was great! Recipe below (modified from one I found on Recipezaar).
Since what I made called ham chowder, it got me to thinking, What exactly is a chowder, anyway? Sure, it's a soup, but what makes a soup a chowder?
So I got to reckoning. Let's see, the one I am most familiar with is clam chowder, and I made ham chowder so maybe the vital criterion for a chowder is that the first word in its name rhyme with am.
Nah. That can't be it.
Maybe it has to be white. Yeah, it should have milk and potatoes in it, and be cooked so long that the potatoes start disintegrating apart. Hm. Well, but back when I was a kid my mom used to make a wonderfully delicious potato soup that had milk in it and the ´taters would be falling apart, only we always called it just potato soup and never chowder.
Then this morning I Googled What is a chowder? and got the following results back:
Definitions of Chowder on the Web:
A thick soup that usually contains potatoes.
www.newitalianrecipes.com/cooking-terms.html
A half-soup, half-stew of vegetables, fish or other foods.
www.cyberpathway.com/whispers/food/cookterm.htm
Creamy soup originating from the west coast of the USA , usually made with corn, potato and shell fish.
www.scec.com.au/services/food_beverage/glossary.cfm
a milk based soup, usually containing seafood.
www.biglove.lvhr.com/recipes/glossary1.html
a thick soup, almost a stew, usually based on fish and/or seafood.
www.great-cooking-made-easy.com/glossary-A-C.html
A soup, usually thick and made with vegetables or seafood, especially corn or clams.
www.glencoe.com/sec/busadmin/marketing/dp/rest_mgmt/gloss.shtml
a thick soup or stew made with milk and bacon and onions and potatoes
wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn
Chowder is any of a variety of soups, enriched with salt pork fatback and thickened with flour, or more traditionally with crushed ship biscuit or saltine crackers, and milk. To some Americans, it means clam chowder, made with cream or milk in most places, or with tomato as "Manhattan clam chowder." Corn chowder is a thick soup filled with whole corn (maize) kernels. Chowder is often commonly associated with New England cuisine.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chowder
According to the above, some people consider potatoes a vital ingredient, while others say it's usually made with some kind of seafood. Bacon figures prominently in several versions. Some mention milk; others do not. Once definition has chowder originating on the west coast of the USA, but another states that it is "more often commonly associated with New England cuisine." A lot of the definitions use the word "thick."
So I still don't know, and the world may never know just exactly what makes soup a chowder. And hey, I may not know much about food, but I know what I like.
Crock Pot Ham Chowder
All quantities are approximate, so don't worry if you're a little short on some ingredients and long on others.
4 cups peeled, cubed potatoes
1/2 cup diced onion
1 cup diced celery
1 cup cubed ham
1 can whole kernal corn (I prefer white corn over the sweet yellow corn)
2 boullion cubes (chicken, beef, or vegetable)
2/3 cup powdered milk
Water
Put potatoes, onion, celery, ham, corn, and boullion cubes in the slow cooker. Add enough water to cover the other ingredients. Cover and cook on low for 9-10 hours or high for 5-6. When potatoes are starting to fall apart, add the powdered milk and stir well; cook about another half hour, then serve.
Yield: Four to six hearty servings.
______________________________________________
Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 867
Since what I made called ham chowder, it got me to thinking, What exactly is a chowder, anyway? Sure, it's a soup, but what makes a soup a chowder?
So I got to reckoning. Let's see, the one I am most familiar with is clam chowder, and I made ham chowder so maybe the vital criterion for a chowder is that the first word in its name rhyme with am.
Nah. That can't be it.
Maybe it has to be white. Yeah, it should have milk and potatoes in it, and be cooked so long that the potatoes start disintegrating apart. Hm. Well, but back when I was a kid my mom used to make a wonderfully delicious potato soup that had milk in it and the ´taters would be falling apart, only we always called it just potato soup and never chowder.
Then this morning I Googled What is a chowder? and got the following results back:
Definitions of Chowder on the Web:
A thick soup that usually contains potatoes.
www.newitalianrecipes.com/cooking-terms.html
A half-soup, half-stew of vegetables, fish or other foods.
www.cyberpathway.com/whispers/food/cookterm.htm
Creamy soup originating from the west coast of the USA , usually made with corn, potato and shell fish.
www.scec.com.au/services/food_beverage/glossary.cfm
a milk based soup, usually containing seafood.
www.biglove.lvhr.com/recipes/glossary1.html
a thick soup, almost a stew, usually based on fish and/or seafood.
www.great-cooking-made-easy.com/glossary-A-C.html
A soup, usually thick and made with vegetables or seafood, especially corn or clams.
www.glencoe.com/sec/busadmin/marketing/dp/rest_mgmt/gloss.shtml
a thick soup or stew made with milk and bacon and onions and potatoes
wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn
Chowder is any of a variety of soups, enriched with salt pork fatback and thickened with flour, or more traditionally with crushed ship biscuit or saltine crackers, and milk. To some Americans, it means clam chowder, made with cream or milk in most places, or with tomato as "Manhattan clam chowder." Corn chowder is a thick soup filled with whole corn (maize) kernels. Chowder is often commonly associated with New England cuisine.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chowder
According to the above, some people consider potatoes a vital ingredient, while others say it's usually made with some kind of seafood. Bacon figures prominently in several versions. Some mention milk; others do not. Once definition has chowder originating on the west coast of the USA, but another states that it is "more often commonly associated with New England cuisine." A lot of the definitions use the word "thick."
So I still don't know, and the world may never know just exactly what makes soup a chowder. And hey, I may not know much about food, but I know what I like.
Crock Pot Ham Chowder
All quantities are approximate, so don't worry if you're a little short on some ingredients and long on others.
4 cups peeled, cubed potatoes
1/2 cup diced onion
1 cup diced celery
1 cup cubed ham
1 can whole kernal corn (I prefer white corn over the sweet yellow corn)
2 boullion cubes (chicken, beef, or vegetable)
2/3 cup powdered milk
Water
Put potatoes, onion, celery, ham, corn, and boullion cubes in the slow cooker. Add enough water to cover the other ingredients. Cover and cook on low for 9-10 hours or high for 5-6. When potatoes are starting to fall apart, add the powdered milk and stir well; cook about another half hour, then serve.
Yield: Four to six hearty servings.
______________________________________________
Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 867
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Sugar in My Coffee
For the last several days, I've been sweetening my coffee!
That doesn't sound very earth-shattering, does it? But it's a sea change for me.
See, my parents have drunk black, unsweetened coffee ever since I can remember, so I learned growing up that the proper way to drink it is without sugar. When I'd see someone else sweeten their coffee, it would always strike me as a little exotic -- and definitely unnecessary. I certainly did not approve. When I began to drink an occasional cup myself, my attitude was that I wanted it to taste like coffee, not like sugar! And so it was for a long, long time.
Once I grew up and got a job and started having coffee at work, others would see me drink it straight. Often they'd ask if I was on a diet -- that's how strange unsweetened coffee seemed to them! (I've also been asked the same question several times while eating a salad, which always seems so weird. Eating a salad means you're on a diet? I guess they didn't grow up eating them most evenings with their dinner, as I did.) But these were folks whose parents put sugar in their coffee, so that's what they learned as kids.
It guess it is pretty obvious that kids learn what they live at home, but it still often strikes me as surprising how very much of our daily life and habits are formed early. I learned to drink my coffee straight long before I even learned to drink coffee! As an adult I would very occasionally (once or twice a year) drink a cup with sugar in it, but never without a vague feeling of being careless and wasteful and unnnecessarily luxurious -- a slight sense of debauchery, I'd guess you you could call it.
And then for some unknown reason about a week ago I decided I no longer wanted bitterness in my breakfast, and I added a spoonfull of sugar to the coffee granules before I poured the water in. That sugar sure took the edge off of my cheap instant coffee! And I've never looked back. Maybe when I drink a cup of the good, brewed stuff I'll be a purist, but for now sweetness is the way to go with instant.
I'm not completely debauched, though, and I haven't totally betrayed the family; I still prefer my tea, hot and iced, unsweetened.
______________________________________________
Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 405
That doesn't sound very earth-shattering, does it? But it's a sea change for me.
See, my parents have drunk black, unsweetened coffee ever since I can remember, so I learned growing up that the proper way to drink it is without sugar. When I'd see someone else sweeten their coffee, it would always strike me as a little exotic -- and definitely unnecessary. I certainly did not approve. When I began to drink an occasional cup myself, my attitude was that I wanted it to taste like coffee, not like sugar! And so it was for a long, long time.
Once I grew up and got a job and started having coffee at work, others would see me drink it straight. Often they'd ask if I was on a diet -- that's how strange unsweetened coffee seemed to them! (I've also been asked the same question several times while eating a salad, which always seems so weird. Eating a salad means you're on a diet? I guess they didn't grow up eating them most evenings with their dinner, as I did.) But these were folks whose parents put sugar in their coffee, so that's what they learned as kids.
It guess it is pretty obvious that kids learn what they live at home, but it still often strikes me as surprising how very much of our daily life and habits are formed early. I learned to drink my coffee straight long before I even learned to drink coffee! As an adult I would very occasionally (once or twice a year) drink a cup with sugar in it, but never without a vague feeling of being careless and wasteful and unnnecessarily luxurious -- a slight sense of debauchery, I'd guess you you could call it.
And then for some unknown reason about a week ago I decided I no longer wanted bitterness in my breakfast, and I added a spoonfull of sugar to the coffee granules before I poured the water in. That sugar sure took the edge off of my cheap instant coffee! And I've never looked back. Maybe when I drink a cup of the good, brewed stuff I'll be a purist, but for now sweetness is the way to go with instant.
I'm not completely debauched, though, and I haven't totally betrayed the family; I still prefer my tea, hot and iced, unsweetened.
______________________________________________
Writer's Challenge goal for April: 15,000 words // Words so far: 405
Friday, March 31, 2006
Writing Challenge
I have committed myself to participating in the April Writer's Challenge organized in the Writers' Forum over at my beloved and much-recommended Paperback Swap. My goal for the month of April: 15,000 words. Not a whole lot, but I figured that since this is my first time to do something like this, I'd aim somewhat low.
Each participant decides on their goal, then strives to write that much during the month of April. Editing and re-writing will get done later; April is for writing new stuff. The objective is to get folks to stop procrastinating and spend some significant, scheduled BIC (butt in chair) time actually writing. This event is, in a way, a "lite" version of Nanowrimo, though the "lite" part refers to the quantity of words to be written, not the quality. Also, Nanowrimo focuses on novel writing, while in this Writer's Challenge the type and genre is open.
I'm kind of looking forward to doing this; it'll give me an excuse and the focused motivation to do something I want to do anyway. I envision myself writing short stores, essays, memoiric anecdotes ... wonder what I will really end up writing? I guess we'll know on April 30th. :-)
Each participant decides on their goal, then strives to write that much during the month of April. Editing and re-writing will get done later; April is for writing new stuff. The objective is to get folks to stop procrastinating and spend some significant, scheduled BIC (butt in chair) time actually writing. This event is, in a way, a "lite" version of Nanowrimo, though the "lite" part refers to the quantity of words to be written, not the quality. Also, Nanowrimo focuses on novel writing, while in this Writer's Challenge the type and genre is open.
I'm kind of looking forward to doing this; it'll give me an excuse and the focused motivation to do something I want to do anyway. I envision myself writing short stores, essays, memoiric anecdotes ... wonder what I will really end up writing? I guess we'll know on April 30th. :-)
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Las Jacarandas
The tree known as jacaranda, which flowers at this time of year, is one of my favorites. There are two basic types: the one with light purple flowers and the one with red flowers. While both types have fascinating branch shapes, I much prefer the purplish flowers. When they fall, they form a soft lavender-colored carpet on the ground, and it all looks doubly gorgeous when they fall on bright green grass. Several flowering jacarandas together make a spectacular sight to behold. They also cast very cool shadows. I hope you'll enjoy these photos, which I took at the Instituto Politécnico Nacional (where I work). Although these particular shots were taken a few years ago, it all looks the same right now. I feel so fortunate to be able to see these every day for several weeks!
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Chest Messaging
I saw an amusing saying on a t-shirt a few days ago: I’m out of my mind. Please leave a message.
This could be the beginning of a post about t-shirts. I could mention how I have been wearing fewer and fewer of them in the last several years, to the extent that if I wear a t-shirt twice a month, that’s a lot. Don’t think that I don’t like extremely casual clothes; I do, and in fact I feel very fortunate where I work I can wear jeans and pullover tops on a regular basis. I’ve never owned a suit, and dread the day when I may be forced to wear one. But t-shirts, the classic t-shirt style with a round neck and text and/or graphics on it, just don’t appeal to me much anymore, for some reason.
The t-shirt quote above could also be the start of a paragraph about leaving messages. I could talk about how I have never had an answering machine and never wanted one. I don’t do text messaging on my cell phone because I’ve never had (or wanted) one of those, either. I do like messages in my e-mail in-box, however – as long as they are interesting or useful ones. I like finding a sticky-note message stuck to my locker door at work from an ex-colleague saying she had dropped by to say hi to everyone but had missed me. I love seeing a message from dh at home, saying that he cooked something yummy and inviting me to look for it in the fridge and try it out.
Or the above saying could inspire me to write about being out of my mind. How can someone be out of their mind? What is the mind, anyway? Wouldn’t you cease to be you if you left your own mind? Why don’t we talk about being in one’s mind? Well, I guess we do; there is the expression in my right mind. There are “out of body experiences” and you can be “out of your mind,” so does that mean you could conceivably one day leave your soul, too? Whew, this is quickly getting much too deep for a blog post.
So I think that I will only let the quote at the top lead me to write about t-shirt sayings. And all I can say about them is: there are way too many nasty, grotesque, and inane ones out there, but one in awhile you come across one that’s actually amusing.
This could be the beginning of a post about t-shirts. I could mention how I have been wearing fewer and fewer of them in the last several years, to the extent that if I wear a t-shirt twice a month, that’s a lot. Don’t think that I don’t like extremely casual clothes; I do, and in fact I feel very fortunate where I work I can wear jeans and pullover tops on a regular basis. I’ve never owned a suit, and dread the day when I may be forced to wear one. But t-shirts, the classic t-shirt style with a round neck and text and/or graphics on it, just don’t appeal to me much anymore, for some reason.
The t-shirt quote above could also be the start of a paragraph about leaving messages. I could talk about how I have never had an answering machine and never wanted one. I don’t do text messaging on my cell phone because I’ve never had (or wanted) one of those, either. I do like messages in my e-mail in-box, however – as long as they are interesting or useful ones. I like finding a sticky-note message stuck to my locker door at work from an ex-colleague saying she had dropped by to say hi to everyone but had missed me. I love seeing a message from dh at home, saying that he cooked something yummy and inviting me to look for it in the fridge and try it out.
Or the above saying could inspire me to write about being out of my mind. How can someone be out of their mind? What is the mind, anyway? Wouldn’t you cease to be you if you left your own mind? Why don’t we talk about being in one’s mind? Well, I guess we do; there is the expression in my right mind. There are “out of body experiences” and you can be “out of your mind,” so does that mean you could conceivably one day leave your soul, too? Whew, this is quickly getting much too deep for a blog post.
So I think that I will only let the quote at the top lead me to write about t-shirt sayings. And all I can say about them is: there are way too many nasty, grotesque, and inane ones out there, but one in awhile you come across one that’s actually amusing.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
LBJ and Pro Baseball Go to the Movies
Last weekend we watched a couple of HBO movies on dvd we picked up at our local movie rental place. They were Path to War (starring Michael Gambon, with Donald Sutherland and Alec Baldwin; John Franenheimer, director) and 61* (starring Thomas Jane and Berry Pepper; Billy Crystal, director). I learned a lot from both of these pictures; I love it when that happens!
Path to War is about the Lyndon B. Johnson presidency and the string of decisions made that led up to the Vietnam War. The film is sympathetic to LBJ in that it portrays him as a man who had the potential to be the greatest president of the century but whose presidency was derailed by the war. That was kind of refreshing, as most of the stuff I had heard about LBJ before was so damning. So I watched with a critical eye and an open mind and learned a lot about the way this war developed. Of course, as often happens when I learn something new, it made me want to know more about the whole topic. It hit me while watching that this was the guy that was president when I was born; though it all seems so remote, it happened in my own lifetime!
I've always liked Donald Sutherland, who played the role in this film of Clark Clifford, an advisor to LBJ and later a member of his cabinet. For some reason I thought Sutherland had died in the past year or so, but I could find no mention of that when I Googled his name. Apparently he's still alive to make more movies. I'm glad!
The other movie, 61*, is about Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle's effort in the summer of 1961 to break Babe Ruth's homerun record. Now, I know the basic rules of baseball (hey, I even played kickball in gym class as a kid!), and I knew Babe Ruth was a legend and I'd heard the names Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris, but beyond that, I was pretty much in the dark. I've never been much of a sports person, and the little fandom I have participated in was related to soccer, not baseball. Well, this movie was fun, not light and fluffy but definitely summery, and has made me fond of baseful. It was doubly exciting for someone like me who, because of ignorance of the topic, didn't know if the record was going to be broken or not; someone more knowlegeable would probably not have been as on the edge of his seat. This movie made me want to attend a major league baseball game some day -- though I know professional sports have changed drastically since the early 1960's and my ballpark outing might turn out to be disappointing.
Though seemingly about completely different in subject matter, there were a couple of common threads to these two movies. Both are true stories from the 1960's -- albeit one from the early sixties and one from the late. And both show folks doing the best they know how to in their particular circumstances and getting blasted for it by the general public and slandered in the press.
By the way, I haven't come across any online reviews of either of these films. Is that because they were released by HBO? How will we know what to think of them if there are no "official" reviews? (LOL) I liked both pictures. They touched my heart and stimulated my mind. Not too shabby for a couple of movies -- especially in our times.
Path to War is about the Lyndon B. Johnson presidency and the string of decisions made that led up to the Vietnam War. The film is sympathetic to LBJ in that it portrays him as a man who had the potential to be the greatest president of the century but whose presidency was derailed by the war. That was kind of refreshing, as most of the stuff I had heard about LBJ before was so damning. So I watched with a critical eye and an open mind and learned a lot about the way this war developed. Of course, as often happens when I learn something new, it made me want to know more about the whole topic. It hit me while watching that this was the guy that was president when I was born; though it all seems so remote, it happened in my own lifetime!
I've always liked Donald Sutherland, who played the role in this film of Clark Clifford, an advisor to LBJ and later a member of his cabinet. For some reason I thought Sutherland had died in the past year or so, but I could find no mention of that when I Googled his name. Apparently he's still alive to make more movies. I'm glad!
The other movie, 61*, is about Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle's effort in the summer of 1961 to break Babe Ruth's homerun record. Now, I know the basic rules of baseball (hey, I even played kickball in gym class as a kid!), and I knew Babe Ruth was a legend and I'd heard the names Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris, but beyond that, I was pretty much in the dark. I've never been much of a sports person, and the little fandom I have participated in was related to soccer, not baseball. Well, this movie was fun, not light and fluffy but definitely summery, and has made me fond of baseful. It was doubly exciting for someone like me who, because of ignorance of the topic, didn't know if the record was going to be broken or not; someone more knowlegeable would probably not have been as on the edge of his seat. This movie made me want to attend a major league baseball game some day -- though I know professional sports have changed drastically since the early 1960's and my ballpark outing might turn out to be disappointing.
Though seemingly about completely different in subject matter, there were a couple of common threads to these two movies. Both are true stories from the 1960's -- albeit one from the early sixties and one from the late. And both show folks doing the best they know how to in their particular circumstances and getting blasted for it by the general public and slandered in the press.
By the way, I haven't come across any online reviews of either of these films. Is that because they were released by HBO? How will we know what to think of them if there are no "official" reviews? (LOL) I liked both pictures. They touched my heart and stimulated my mind. Not too shabby for a couple of movies -- especially in our times.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Speaking in Silence
Last Friday in my last class of the day (from 6 to 8 p.m.) I spontaneously decided not to speak during the class. This is an idea that I had kicked around occasionally in the last few years, but I'd never actually taken the plunge. It wasn't easy -- silence is one of the last things expected from a foreign language teacher -- but I didn't utter a word during the class. I used gestures, pointing to the textbook and other things a lot, and an occasional instruction or comment written on the board. The students were allowed to talk to me and to one another normally. At the end of the class I asked the students (via a question on the board) how they had felt. A few said they had enjoyed this novel class, a few had actively disliked it, and the majority were somewhere in the middle. I myself felt great; I guess being silent made me feel less that I had to be in control and in charge the whole time. I don't plan to use the "silent treatment" again with this same group in the near future, but I may use it with them again some time, and I will definitely use the technique on other occasions with other groups.
On one occasion not long ago dh and I agreed to take a vow of silence for a day. It was a Sunday, so we were together all day and didn't have to work. That was an interesting experiment, too. I feel I didn't do very well, myself, as although I didn't use words I did use a lot of "hmms." It's amazing what you can express without using words but still using your voice! Gestures were rampant, too. I feel it wasn't really a day of silence, but just of noise of a different type. We did relatively well, though, considering it was our first try. Maybe some time in the future we can do it again, keeping truly silent and making it a more spiritual experiment.
So what have I learned from these two experiences? First, of course, that it really is not that difficult to communicate without words. I did feel frustrated at times, but on both occasions I was usually able to make my basic message understood (and, in the second instance, to understand dh's message). More importantly, I was forced to use my creativity to express myself; I could not depend on the same old way of saying things (that is, words). Sure, there are cliched gestures just as there are cliched linguistic expressions; still, it is easier to be lazy in language than in gestures.
Perhaps the most important lesson of these experiences, however, is the reminder of how we humans are able to overcome difficulties, be resourceful, find solutions to problems. I think I often need to be reminded of that. I tend to get stuck in ruts sometimes because I don't think I have to wherewithal to break out of what I already know -- even if what is known is causing me problems. I just need to be reminded of the awesome resources I have available to me inside my very being: life, intelligence, will -- sparks of the Holy Spirit. May I never take them for granted.
On one occasion not long ago dh and I agreed to take a vow of silence for a day. It was a Sunday, so we were together all day and didn't have to work. That was an interesting experiment, too. I feel I didn't do very well, myself, as although I didn't use words I did use a lot of "hmms." It's amazing what you can express without using words but still using your voice! Gestures were rampant, too. I feel it wasn't really a day of silence, but just of noise of a different type. We did relatively well, though, considering it was our first try. Maybe some time in the future we can do it again, keeping truly silent and making it a more spiritual experiment.
So what have I learned from these two experiences? First, of course, that it really is not that difficult to communicate without words. I did feel frustrated at times, but on both occasions I was usually able to make my basic message understood (and, in the second instance, to understand dh's message). More importantly, I was forced to use my creativity to express myself; I could not depend on the same old way of saying things (that is, words). Sure, there are cliched gestures just as there are cliched linguistic expressions; still, it is easier to be lazy in language than in gestures.
Perhaps the most important lesson of these experiences, however, is the reminder of how we humans are able to overcome difficulties, be resourceful, find solutions to problems. I think I often need to be reminded of that. I tend to get stuck in ruts sometimes because I don't think I have to wherewithal to break out of what I already know -- even if what is known is causing me problems. I just need to be reminded of the awesome resources I have available to me inside my very being: life, intelligence, will -- sparks of the Holy Spirit. May I never take them for granted.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Electric Fan Soul Massage
What is it about the sound of an electric fan that is so soothing? Especially if it's on 'oscillate' mode.
It's been hot here lately, and though I enjoy the warmth, dh gets hot and bothered and often turns on the fan. I'm usually glad when he does, but not so much for air circulation as for the soothing sound the fan makes.
Air conditioning does not particularly soothe me. Traffic noise, even unobtrusive and in the distance, has no calming effect. Even ocean waves get on my nerves after awhile.
It must be that I associate the fan noise with something positive from childhood. Perhaps with a day in kindergarten when all us kids were all on our mats on the floor taking a nap and the adult ladies were over in the corner talking indistinctly, in low tones. Hearing their voices made me feel safe ... and sleepy. Or with a day in fourth grade near the end of the school year when the teacher was reading to us; she would read a chapter each day to get us settled down after recess, and it was the most delicious moment of the schoolday. Or maybe it was one of the many times I spent an afternoon with Daddy out in the garage. He'd have the fan on and maybe some dorky music, too; he'd be concentrating on some project and I'd be working on something else entirely and rarely would a word pass between us, but I felt a certain deep contentment.
When the electric fan is turned on, my heart smiles, and often my lips follow suit. Something deep inside of me gets the message that all's right with the world. Soothing. Ahhhhhhhhhhh ....
It's been hot here lately, and though I enjoy the warmth, dh gets hot and bothered and often turns on the fan. I'm usually glad when he does, but not so much for air circulation as for the soothing sound the fan makes.
Air conditioning does not particularly soothe me. Traffic noise, even unobtrusive and in the distance, has no calming effect. Even ocean waves get on my nerves after awhile.
It must be that I associate the fan noise with something positive from childhood. Perhaps with a day in kindergarten when all us kids were all on our mats on the floor taking a nap and the adult ladies were over in the corner talking indistinctly, in low tones. Hearing their voices made me feel safe ... and sleepy. Or with a day in fourth grade near the end of the school year when the teacher was reading to us; she would read a chapter each day to get us settled down after recess, and it was the most delicious moment of the schoolday. Or maybe it was one of the many times I spent an afternoon with Daddy out in the garage. He'd have the fan on and maybe some dorky music, too; he'd be concentrating on some project and I'd be working on something else entirely and rarely would a word pass between us, but I felt a certain deep contentment.
When the electric fan is turned on, my heart smiles, and often my lips follow suit. Something deep inside of me gets the message that all's right with the world. Soothing. Ahhhhhhhhhhh ....
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Vegetarian Taco Filling
I made this last night and thought I'd share the recipe with you. It is quite economical and really good rolled up in a hot soft corn tortilla, topped with chopped jalepeño peppers. Great for a meatless Lenten Friday or for when the grocery money has run way down.
I'm not a vegetarian, by the way; I do eat meat and enjoy it, but I don't miss the meat at all when I eat these tacos. I found the basic recipe for this on the Internet a couple or three years ago; unfortunately, I don't remember where, so I can't give proper credit to the originator of it. The optional ingredients are additions of my own, though.
Vegetarian Taco Filling
Note: all quantities are approximate, so don't think you have to measure.
1 cup texturized soy protein
1 cup boiling water
1 to 2 Tbsp. margarine
1/2 to 1 cup chopped fresh mushrooms
1/4 to 1/2 cup chopped onions
1 or 2 cloves of fresh garlic, finely chopped
1/4 cup chopped green or red pepper (optional)
1/4 cup chopped black olives (optional)
seasoning to taste (I just use salt and the occasional miscellaneous herb,
but you could also add taco sauce, chili powder, ketchup, or whatever.)
Rehydrate the soy protein by soaking it in the boiling water for 5 minutes. Sautee the onion, garlic, mushrooms and green/red pepper (if using) in the margarine. Add soy protein, seasonings, and black olives (optional) and continue to sautee until most of the moisture has evaporated. Eat immediately or it can be stored tightly covered in the refrigerator for several days.
Yield: 2 to 3 cups filling
See some more of my recipes.
I'm not a vegetarian, by the way; I do eat meat and enjoy it, but I don't miss the meat at all when I eat these tacos. I found the basic recipe for this on the Internet a couple or three years ago; unfortunately, I don't remember where, so I can't give proper credit to the originator of it. The optional ingredients are additions of my own, though.
Vegetarian Taco Filling
Note: all quantities are approximate, so don't think you have to measure.
1 cup texturized soy protein
1 cup boiling water
1 to 2 Tbsp. margarine
1/2 to 1 cup chopped fresh mushrooms
1/4 to 1/2 cup chopped onions
1 or 2 cloves of fresh garlic, finely chopped
1/4 cup chopped green or red pepper (optional)
1/4 cup chopped black olives (optional)
seasoning to taste (I just use salt and the occasional miscellaneous herb,
but you could also add taco sauce, chili powder, ketchup, or whatever.)
Rehydrate the soy protein by soaking it in the boiling water for 5 minutes. Sautee the onion, garlic, mushrooms and green/red pepper (if using) in the margarine. Add soy protein, seasonings, and black olives (optional) and continue to sautee until most of the moisture has evaporated. Eat immediately or it can be stored tightly covered in the refrigerator for several days.
Yield: 2 to 3 cups filling
See some more of my recipes.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Robins in the Spring
In honor of our recently-arrived spring, I'm posting this picture I did in 2001. It's done in watercolor pencil outlined in marker, and is entitled Robins in the Spring. (Yes, the bottom robin is the one I have in the graphic right above my profile in this blog.) When I first did this I got the idea of making four different versions of the same tree, one corresponding to each season of the year. I never did get beyond this spring one, though. What do you think -- should I do summer, autumn, and winter, too? Leave a comment if you have an opinion.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Movie Marathon
Knowing that we had a 4-day weekend ahead of us, dh Eddie and I were all geared up for a lot of dvd watching. I used my 3-rentals-for-the-price-of-2 coupon and brought home a trio of films on Saturday night. We got the snacks ready, positioned the recliner in front of the screen and … the dvd player wouldn't work!
I won't bore you with exact details, but we didn't have a working dvd player until today at about midday. And since the rentals have to be returned tomorrow, we settled down for a movie marathon. The three pictures: Fiddler on the Roof ( MGM, 1971; Norman Jewison, director), A Day without a Mexican (Plural Entertainment, 2004; Sergio Arau, director), and Good Morning Vietnam! (Touchstone Pictures, 1987; Barry Levinson, director). Interestingly, I unwittingly selected films with a certain common thread running through the: though set in very different times and cultures, they all deal in one way or another with societal breakdowns in times of crisis.
Now, lemme tell ya, I ain't no film critic. In fact, I've seen very few movies in the past, oh, fifteen years. I've almost certainly seen more in the three and a half months we've had our dvd player than I did in the previous ten years. Only now, after having watched a lot of the extra material that comes on many dvds, am I getting a feel for what all goes into movie-making. In a way, I'm quite non-critical and very easy to please. On the other hand (as Tevye from Fiddler would say), surely this very distance from and naivete about the world of movies gives my view of each film a fresh and novel perspective. Or something.
The first one we watched today was Fiddler on the Roof. I remember having seen this movie as a child, and it must have been on t.v. I remember it as a joyful film -- which it is, though it seemed much sadder, too, now that I understand it more. The extra material had a lot on in it about the director, who came across as a bad-humored, non-very-likeable guy. Though he's probably a big huggable teddy bear in real life, practically the only pleasant thing that got across to me about him on this occasion was learning that despite the facts that he created this classic movie about Jews and that his own last name is Jewison, he is actually a Gentile and the descendent of a line of Gentiles reaching back as far as anyone can remember!
Then we saw A Day without a Mexican. I liked this film. Didn't adore it, but definitely liked it. The idea behind it all was ingenious, and there were several really good puntadas (a term difficult to translate but meaning something akin to "hitting the nail on the head"). After the movie marathon I got on the Internet and learned that most of the critics (at least the ones I´d read -- principally U.S.-based) considered it pretty bad. Hm. It'd be interesting to see what the Mexican critics thought, but since I need to finish this post up and get to bed, that will have to wait until another day. Sure, the acting was cheesy and the visual production looked cheap at times, but wasn't that intentional, part of the "concept" or whatever they call it? I mean, it all takes place in California, folks; what did the critics expect, something elegant? No offense intended toward California, of course, but chic like Paris it is not. Or maybe the critics just didn't "get" the puntadas.
I liked Good Morning, Vietnam! too, though again, only liked it, not loved it. The critics at the time seem to have adored it, though; go figure. Robin Williams is a genius, I must admit, and it is an honor to share a first name with him. (If you happen to see this post yourself, Mr. Williams, please send me an autographed photo so that I can show it off to my students. I'm a real teacher of English as a foreign langugage! lol) The story itself had some interesting turns to it, too.
Of the three films we saw today, the one I'd be most likely to rent again (or even buy, if it were deeply discounted) would be Fiddler on the Roof. Visually it was beautfiul, story-wise it was multi-layered, and hey, I just like musicals.
I won't bore you with exact details, but we didn't have a working dvd player until today at about midday. And since the rentals have to be returned tomorrow, we settled down for a movie marathon. The three pictures: Fiddler on the Roof ( MGM, 1971; Norman Jewison, director), A Day without a Mexican (Plural Entertainment, 2004; Sergio Arau, director), and Good Morning Vietnam! (Touchstone Pictures, 1987; Barry Levinson, director). Interestingly, I unwittingly selected films with a certain common thread running through the: though set in very different times and cultures, they all deal in one way or another with societal breakdowns in times of crisis.
Now, lemme tell ya, I ain't no film critic. In fact, I've seen very few movies in the past, oh, fifteen years. I've almost certainly seen more in the three and a half months we've had our dvd player than I did in the previous ten years. Only now, after having watched a lot of the extra material that comes on many dvds, am I getting a feel for what all goes into movie-making. In a way, I'm quite non-critical and very easy to please. On the other hand (as Tevye from Fiddler would say), surely this very distance from and naivete about the world of movies gives my view of each film a fresh and novel perspective. Or something.
The first one we watched today was Fiddler on the Roof. I remember having seen this movie as a child, and it must have been on t.v. I remember it as a joyful film -- which it is, though it seemed much sadder, too, now that I understand it more. The extra material had a lot on in it about the director, who came across as a bad-humored, non-very-likeable guy. Though he's probably a big huggable teddy bear in real life, practically the only pleasant thing that got across to me about him on this occasion was learning that despite the facts that he created this classic movie about Jews and that his own last name is Jewison, he is actually a Gentile and the descendent of a line of Gentiles reaching back as far as anyone can remember!
Then we saw A Day without a Mexican. I liked this film. Didn't adore it, but definitely liked it. The idea behind it all was ingenious, and there were several really good puntadas (a term difficult to translate but meaning something akin to "hitting the nail on the head"). After the movie marathon I got on the Internet and learned that most of the critics (at least the ones I´d read -- principally U.S.-based) considered it pretty bad. Hm. It'd be interesting to see what the Mexican critics thought, but since I need to finish this post up and get to bed, that will have to wait until another day. Sure, the acting was cheesy and the visual production looked cheap at times, but wasn't that intentional, part of the "concept" or whatever they call it? I mean, it all takes place in California, folks; what did the critics expect, something elegant? No offense intended toward California, of course, but chic like Paris it is not. Or maybe the critics just didn't "get" the puntadas.
I liked Good Morning, Vietnam! too, though again, only liked it, not loved it. The critics at the time seem to have adored it, though; go figure. Robin Williams is a genius, I must admit, and it is an honor to share a first name with him. (If you happen to see this post yourself, Mr. Williams, please send me an autographed photo so that I can show it off to my students. I'm a real teacher of English as a foreign langugage! lol) The story itself had some interesting turns to it, too.
Of the three films we saw today, the one I'd be most likely to rent again (or even buy, if it were deeply discounted) would be Fiddler on the Roof. Visually it was beautfiul, story-wise it was multi-layered, and hey, I just like musicals.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Hitchcock in the Spring
This photograph was taken a few weeks ago at Teotihuacan, an important archaeological site about an hour's drive north of here and one of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites. We are inside the wonderful little museum they have there. The profile is my husband Eddie's, and the window behind him looks out on the Pyramid of the Sun, the largest pyramid at the site and one of the largest in the world. Yes, those little specks at the top are people who have climbed up there. By the way, Eddie only permitted me to publish this picture provided I mention how much he dislikes it because it makes him look like Alfred Hitchcock. I agree that he does look like Mr. Hitchcock, but I happen to love the photo, so here it is:
Today and tomorrow, as happens every year at the beginning of spring, thousands of folks will go to Teotihuacan (the lucky ones arriving early enough to find a place to stand on the Sun Pyramid) for the New Agey practice of cargarse de energías - roughly translatable as "getting good vibrations." People, this site was once used for human sacrifice; how "good" can those vibrations be? I don't believe in New Age stuff, but if I did I wouldn't be going anywhere near a human sacrifice site in order to fill up with energy. Sheesh.
Anyway, here are a couple of links to spring-related sites. (My apologies to the Southern Hemisphere, where autumn is beginning today.)
Article: Why Has the Date Changed for the Start of Spring?
Mrs. Lee's Daffodil Garden
Today and tomorrow, as happens every year at the beginning of spring, thousands of folks will go to Teotihuacan (the lucky ones arriving early enough to find a place to stand on the Sun Pyramid) for the New Agey practice of cargarse de energías - roughly translatable as "getting good vibrations." People, this site was once used for human sacrifice; how "good" can those vibrations be? I don't believe in New Age stuff, but if I did I wouldn't be going anywhere near a human sacrifice site in order to fill up with energy. Sheesh.
Anyway, here are a couple of links to spring-related sites. (My apologies to the Southern Hemisphere, where autumn is beginning today.)
Article: Why Has the Date Changed for the Start of Spring?
Mrs. Lee's Daffodil Garden
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Encouragement
Earlier today my mom wrote to me with a positive remark about this new blog. A couple of days ago, a former student wrote the first comment to ever be posted here. Both of those were very uplifting!
Last Friday evening I met with a group of people with whom I am involved in giving talks at our Monday night prayer group. Some of them made positive observations about my participation last Monday -- when I felt I had been quite the failure. What a wonderful gift!
An encouraging remark can turn my day around. It's like seeing the sun come out after weeks of overcast weather. I can be feeling blah and start getting discouraged and even a little hopeless … and a little compliment literally changes my life at that moment. Of course I'm not the only one who is affected like this. I'm just your average gal, so this must be something pretty common to human nature. Forgive me if I'm stating the obvious here, but it's just that all this came to me in a particularly forceful way today: sincere encouragement is life-giving.
My mom is a great encourager. She was a junior high school English teacher for several years in a school district serving a large number of migrant workers. Her students certainly needed the motivation and hope she provided! Mom retired from teaching but not from giving life. Whenever I'm around her I hear her talking to other people, in person and on the phone, encouraging them to do something they've wanted to do but have not dared, or daring them to do something that they would enjoy and be good at. She encourages me a lot, too. She gave me life in the physical sense, and she continues to nurture it to this day. Thanks, Ma!
I need to encourage others more. I need to be lots more generous in my praise and much stingier in my criticism. I need to actively look for ways to be encouraging. I need to get past the lazy attitude that a person already knows that they're doing a good job and doesn't need my input. People often truly don't know they are on the right track, or that someone notices their efforts. We're all pretty much looking around for confirmation and support -- and cheer or two once in awhile.
We can never really know how much our actions and words affect others. They can often affect them very much -- encouragement is life-giving. Let's imaging that tomorrow a nice remark I make in passing to a colleague is the only positive thing they hear all day. Now let's imagine that I don't make that nice remark, and so they get zero positive input. I have the power within me to nurture life -- and the power to refuse to nurture it. Gulp.
Lord, help me to be encouraging!
"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up as you are already doing." -- 1 Thessalonians 5:11
(The image above is another selection from my defunt e-card site. Original photo by Joy Grose.)
Last Friday evening I met with a group of people with whom I am involved in giving talks at our Monday night prayer group. Some of them made positive observations about my participation last Monday -- when I felt I had been quite the failure. What a wonderful gift!
An encouraging remark can turn my day around. It's like seeing the sun come out after weeks of overcast weather. I can be feeling blah and start getting discouraged and even a little hopeless … and a little compliment literally changes my life at that moment. Of course I'm not the only one who is affected like this. I'm just your average gal, so this must be something pretty common to human nature. Forgive me if I'm stating the obvious here, but it's just that all this came to me in a particularly forceful way today: sincere encouragement is life-giving.
My mom is a great encourager. She was a junior high school English teacher for several years in a school district serving a large number of migrant workers. Her students certainly needed the motivation and hope she provided! Mom retired from teaching but not from giving life. Whenever I'm around her I hear her talking to other people, in person and on the phone, encouraging them to do something they've wanted to do but have not dared, or daring them to do something that they would enjoy and be good at. She encourages me a lot, too. She gave me life in the physical sense, and she continues to nurture it to this day. Thanks, Ma!
I need to encourage others more. I need to be lots more generous in my praise and much stingier in my criticism. I need to actively look for ways to be encouraging. I need to get past the lazy attitude that a person already knows that they're doing a good job and doesn't need my input. People often truly don't know they are on the right track, or that someone notices their efforts. We're all pretty much looking around for confirmation and support -- and cheer or two once in awhile.
We can never really know how much our actions and words affect others. They can often affect them very much -- encouragement is life-giving. Let's imaging that tomorrow a nice remark I make in passing to a colleague is the only positive thing they hear all day. Now let's imagine that I don't make that nice remark, and so they get zero positive input. I have the power within me to nurture life -- and the power to refuse to nurture it. Gulp.
Lord, help me to be encouraging!
"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up as you are already doing." -- 1 Thessalonians 5:11
(The image above is another selection from my defunt e-card site. Original photo by Joy Grose.)
Saturday, March 18, 2006
The Last "Bridge"
Today begins a long weekend for a lot of people in Mexico; we don't to back to work until next Wednesday! Tuesday is March 21st, and, as Benito Juárez's birthday, a civic holiday here. As has been common until just this year, when a civic holiday falls on a Tuesday or a Thursday, government offices and many other places of employment just go ahead and take off the Monday or Friday between the holiday and the weekend, doing what is known as hacer puente, "making a bridge." And since I've worked at the Instituto Politécnico Nacional (a government institution) for many a moon now, I've enjoyed many of these bridges over the years. It makes for some great mini-vacations, even if it's not so hot for productivity.
All that is going to end, though. As of this year, five civic holidays will be celebrated on Monday instead of the original holiday date. Benito Juárez day is one of them, though since 2006 is the bicentennial of his birth there are special celebrations scheduled and the traditional date is kept this year.
Occasionally this change from the traditional date to the Monday before or after will be good. Example: Constitution Day is supposedly on February 5th. This year that date fell on a Sunday, and we wouldn't have gotten an extra day off work for it, but for the first time in Mexican history it was changed to the following Monday and we did get a free day out of the deal. Woo hoo!
But mostly this means a reduction in days off, since it strikes a hard blow at the venerable puente system. Yesterday as I was leaving work one of my colleagues said, "Enjoy your puente, people; this is the last one we'll have." How sad! A much-beloved institution is gasping its last. Seems like somebody should be commemmorating this in some way, like it's not right to just let it all pass without noticing.
Actually, this is not the last "bridge." There will be others, taken on non-civic holidays such as Day of the Dead or Christmas or even Mother's Day (May 10th), when the whole country grinds to a halt while everyone takes mom out to dinner. However, these extra-long weekends will be fewer and much farther between. I suppose it's a positive measure, necesary for advancing the country towards first-worlddom. Ay, but I did so love making bridges!
All that is going to end, though. As of this year, five civic holidays will be celebrated on Monday instead of the original holiday date. Benito Juárez day is one of them, though since 2006 is the bicentennial of his birth there are special celebrations scheduled and the traditional date is kept this year.
Occasionally this change from the traditional date to the Monday before or after will be good. Example: Constitution Day is supposedly on February 5th. This year that date fell on a Sunday, and we wouldn't have gotten an extra day off work for it, but for the first time in Mexican history it was changed to the following Monday and we did get a free day out of the deal. Woo hoo!
But mostly this means a reduction in days off, since it strikes a hard blow at the venerable puente system. Yesterday as I was leaving work one of my colleagues said, "Enjoy your puente, people; this is the last one we'll have." How sad! A much-beloved institution is gasping its last. Seems like somebody should be commemmorating this in some way, like it's not right to just let it all pass without noticing.
Actually, this is not the last "bridge." There will be others, taken on non-civic holidays such as Day of the Dead or Christmas or even Mother's Day (May 10th), when the whole country grinds to a halt while everyone takes mom out to dinner. However, these extra-long weekends will be fewer and much farther between. I suppose it's a positive measure, necesary for advancing the country towards first-worlddom. Ay, but I did so love making bridges!
Friday, March 17, 2006
What's Mexican about St. Patrick?
Here's a little drawing I did a few years ago to commemorate St. Patrick's Day. Back then I had a little free e-card site with my own photos and drawings, and this was one of the images you could send from there. That card site was fun and a good outlet for my creativity, but I couldn't keep it up. Maybe some day I can do it again. Anyway, so I did this with watercolor pencils and markers, trying to make this holy man look young and joyful.
St. Patrick's Day isn't celebrated here at all, but there is a very curious connection between him (or at least his name) and Mexico. Back in the 1840s the United States and Mexico were at war. A certain group of soldiers who had signed on to the U.S. army deserted and ended up fighting for the Mexican side. They were called the Batallón de San Patricio (St. Patrick's Batallion) because many of them were Irish immigrants. Mexican history has them pegged as great heroes. Who would have thought that there would ever be Irish soldiers on Mexican soil, huh? (You can read more about them here and here.)
One final curiosity: a lot of the men from the Batallón de San Patricio met their Maker on August 20, 1847, at the Battle of Churubusco. The place at the time was a small town outside Mexico City, though it has since been swallowed up by the capital and now is a neighborhood well within the bounds of this city. Well, in northern Indiana there is a little town called Churubusco (pop. about 1,600). Who named it that, I wonder, and why? Did they have some connection to Mexico and/or the Batallón de San Patricio, maybe? It's intriguing to speculate about this.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
I'm on Dear Abby!
A few days ago I was surprised and delighted to discover that Dear Abby had published a letter I had sent her (via e-mail) in response to another she had published some time ago. Surprised because I had never even received an acknowledgement that they had gotten my message; delighted because, well, I'm a celebrity now, right? lol
You can read the original letter here (it's the first one on that page -- about a child's birthday party) and my response here (scroll down to about halfway down the page; my letter is signed Robin in Mexico City).
Now, I'd never written to Dear Abby before. I read her column online and often disagree heartliy with her. Much of the time she's way too liberal for my taste, and I get miffed. I wonder why I read her column, then. Hmmmm.
It was cool she printed my letter, however, especially since she still doesn't agree with me. What prompted me to write on that occasion was my ire at her passing judgement on a culture not her own. Oh well, at least she gave me the chance to get my own opinion published all over the nation in a syndicated column!
Of course, when I saw that my letter had been published, I immediately e-mailed family and friends so they could see how famous I am now. Several responded saying they had sometimes wanted to respond to a Dear Abby item themselves, but had never done it. I say: People, go for it! It's very easy because there's an online form for writing to her; you don't even have to put it in an envelope and spend a stamp. And if your letter gets published, you can be a celebrity like me! [grin]
You can read the original letter here (it's the first one on that page -- about a child's birthday party) and my response here (scroll down to about halfway down the page; my letter is signed Robin in Mexico City).
Now, I'd never written to Dear Abby before. I read her column online and often disagree heartliy with her. Much of the time she's way too liberal for my taste, and I get miffed. I wonder why I read her column, then. Hmmmm.
It was cool she printed my letter, however, especially since she still doesn't agree with me. What prompted me to write on that occasion was my ire at her passing judgement on a culture not her own. Oh well, at least she gave me the chance to get my own opinion published all over the nation in a syndicated column!
Of course, when I saw that my letter had been published, I immediately e-mailed family and friends so they could see how famous I am now. Several responded saying they had sometimes wanted to respond to a Dear Abby item themselves, but had never done it. I say: People, go for it! It's very easy because there's an online form for writing to her; you don't even have to put it in an envelope and spend a stamp. And if your letter gets published, you can be a celebrity like me! [grin]
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Refreshing No-Bake Mexican Lime Cake
It's been hot here the last couple of weeks; spring (the hottest season of the year here) has definitely arrived. I got a yen for this super refreshing lime cake, so I made it this evening -- then I thought to share the recipe with you here. Can't wait to eat it, topped with fresh black raspberries, tomorrow midday! It is so good ... you won't believe how easy a recipe it is. Real Mexican cooking doesn't generally make use of a lot of convenience foods (canned / frozen / packaged / etc.), but this is one exception. I don't remember exactly where I got this recipe; I believe it was from a student, ages ago.
See more of my recipes.
No-Bake Lime Cake
1 cup fresh lime juice
1 12-oz. can evaporated milk
1 14-oz. can sweetened condensed milk
About 50 packaged cookies (use Mexican "maria" cookies or any thin, bland, dry cookie such as vanilla wafers)
Makes about 8 servings in 10 minutes of prep time (plus several hours in fridge).
Blend the two types of milk with the lime juice until well combined. In a bottom of 9-inch round baking dish (or other shape of similar volume), place a layer of cookies. Cover as much of the bottom of the dish as you can. (You may need to break some of the cookies and use little pieces to fit between the whole ones.) Pour about one fifth of the milk/juice mixture over the cookies and spread evenly. Repeat layers of cookies and milk mixture until ingredients run out. Have the top layer be milk mixture. Cover and refrigerate several hours or overnight. The liquid will be absorbed, leaving layers of softened cookies interspersed with creamy sweet goodness. When ready to serve, cut into wedges or squares. Eat plain or top with fresh or canned fruit.
See more of my recipes.
No-Bake Lime Cake
1 cup fresh lime juice
1 12-oz. can evaporated milk
1 14-oz. can sweetened condensed milk
About 50 packaged cookies (use Mexican "maria" cookies or any thin, bland, dry cookie such as vanilla wafers)
Makes about 8 servings in 10 minutes of prep time (plus several hours in fridge).
Blend the two types of milk with the lime juice until well combined. In a bottom of 9-inch round baking dish (or other shape of similar volume), place a layer of cookies. Cover as much of the bottom of the dish as you can. (You may need to break some of the cookies and use little pieces to fit between the whole ones.) Pour about one fifth of the milk/juice mixture over the cookies and spread evenly. Repeat layers of cookies and milk mixture until ingredients run out. Have the top layer be milk mixture. Cover and refrigerate several hours or overnight. The liquid will be absorbed, leaving layers of softened cookies interspersed with creamy sweet goodness. When ready to serve, cut into wedges or squares. Eat plain or top with fresh or canned fruit.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
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