silence is the most beautiful language:
which spoken with the ear comprehends
the tongues of discontent, of frustration
to which voice gives understanding
that turns to thought
to plan
to hope
which comprehends and counsels
in a dialect of love
Perhaps that language
sounds most sweetly
of Above.
Abe's back from Scout camp so we swapped riddles over dinner tonight: the answers are all English words from common vocabulary.
A five letter word that reads the same with four letters cut off.
-6th grade EEE
Two definitions and two ways to pronounce
two words with the same spelling-
one capitalized, one lowercase.
-Daddy
Two words nearly identical,
but opposite in gender and number.
The second is made by adding one letter to the first.
-Unremembered
I learned a new game last week. Sadie taught me Ka-¢hing!, and since we lost the instruction booklet, let me explain just how to play:
Contents
• 29 cash cards in denominations of green-1, red-2, blue-5 and yellow-10
• 35 stock cards of different values and categories
• 2 wild cards "to buy things with"
Set Up
• Deal out cash cards to players—Sadie plays banker:
“Everyone gets three green ones… and I get two red ones…”
“I've only got one red.”
“Well, I get more than you because I’m in charge.”
“Can I have four yellows then?”
“No.”
“Please! Yellow is almost my favorite color.”
“Well fine, but I get all the blues then…”
• Illegal exchanges are encouraged to facilitate the realistic distribution of wealth.
• Arrange stock cards artistically—Sadie plays stockbroker.
To Play
• Player to banker’s right begins
“Except I actually get to go first because it’s my game… you just get to buy one card from the top or the bottom—like this…”
• Player selects a card and banker sets the price:
“That’s three greens and two blues and a yellow… Now you go.”
“I pick farmland for six”
"OK, that costs four greens and two blues and tree yellows.”
“That’s not fair, I’ll just pay a green and a blue.”
Sadie made her sassiest face, “No. I’m in charge because it’s my game.”
• Play continues regardless.
“Well, actually now I get to go as many times as I want, ‘cause it’s my house. And you don’t live here.”
“That’s not the rules.”
“Ha!… You lose! ‘cause I get all the money in the whole world!”
• Any player who attempts to follow “rules” loses.
• When all the cards have been bought, stolen, or discarded under the rug the game is over; whoever own the game wins.
But I'm not complaining; it kept the banker happy.
I hope
I am never too old
to kneel
on the sidewalk,
face pressed against
the warm ground,
to watch a snail breathe.
1.
“Walk like a dog across Alma.”
I could have sworn that was the mechanical command from the pedestrian traffic light. In Salt Lake, the walk signs just chirp for crossing. But not so in California.
The voice repeated: “Walk like a dog across Alma.”
I didn’t. But pedaling down Lytton I considered: I sort of look like a dog; hunched over my handlebars, panting in the beating sun.
Incidentally, it doesn’t say that. But a month of crossing at Alma and Lytton, and it still sounds to me like a game of Simon Says:
“Walk like a dog across Alma.”
2.
I call the cyclist Algernon because he has long curly hair that looks like an Algernon’s hair, and because of his penny-farthing bike, which looks like the bicycle of an Algernon.
I first saw him a few weeks ago, riding at the far end of Bryant. He waved and smiled and I realized I had been staring at him balanced on that ridiculous thing. The penny-farthing is really a graceful looking bicycle: the seat is perched on the enormous front wheel with a thin frame bending to hold on the back wheel, which is tiny and looks like an afterthought; the whole contraption reminds me of a picture I once saw diagraming the butterfly's proboscis.
And I rather expect the thing to capsize at every moment, but today I saw him trundling away full speed down University Av. Apparently Algernon has everything under control.
Me.
I am the circus.
Ty-ty, Chubby, Sadie and I, rolling into Eleanor Park, were spectacle enough to put Barman and Bailey to shame. As a general rule, these children are a spectacle—no, that's unfair: Sadie is always a spectacle; she likes to cut her own hair, wear her pajamas all day, and live every moment at full, four-year-old volume.
The boys, on the other hand, are as quiet as their sister is loud and are prone to morosity. Chubby can’t talk yet and Ty-ty, when he hasn’t locked himself in the computer room, only mumbles where he finds it absolutely necessary.
Like when we visited the bats at the children’s zoo:
“Dija know there’s a bat with six-foot wingspan?”
“What was that Ty-ty?”
“Dija know there’re bats with a six-foot wingspan?”
He's right; it’s called the flying fox bat. Except this zoo just has Egyptian fruit bats.
But they moved last week, the kids I mean, away from the zoo and the museum and the library. So their mom suggested we bike to the park.
Bike? I imagined myself like some mad dog-walker: griping leashes to 15 bicycles, being dragged along by these little energizer bunnies. Funny, in my imagination little carbon-copy Sadies were pedaling all 15 bicycles.
“You can take my bike, it has the baby seat on the back and the Burly’s all hooked up. Ty-ty just likes to wear skates and hang onto the back. I’ll only be gone an hour or so, so just bring them home when they get tired.”
The Burley, I found, is a brightly colored bike trailer—so the bike is transformed into a sort of circus caravan. Oh also, Mom is much taller than I, so I pedaled on tippy-toes. Where is a tutu when you really need one? We only wanted for clown paint. Or streamers or something—a dancing poodle. No matter, the other park goers stared at us all the same; me and my ragamuffins were loud and wild and so full of joy to be out in the sunshine with the grass and trees.
Pedaling tip-toe back down Channing after a rambunctious afternoon of monkey bars and pushing swings, I thought to myself I must remember this when I am Mom. What a good adventure for a lazy afternoon.
In a saucepan, heat a splash of olive oil over medium heat. Add a few teaspoons garam masala, an onion (sliced thinly) and a cup or two of vegetables (bulb fennel, celery, bok choy, etc.) cut in thin strips. Add salt if you like. Cook, stirring ,until onions caramelize. Mix in a handful of dried cranberries and extra firm tofu, crumbled—I like more, some like less. Remove from heat, add chopped cilantro and some pistachios. One time I added fried rice. Another time zucchini. Also eggplant is an excellent addition. And blueberries sub well for the craisins.
Or there’re family-style burgers at 5:00, with garden-fresh lettuce and three types of cheese. The Wilsons always serve their burgers with a variety of French cheeses.
A penny for your thoughts is a steal in this information age.
A stuffed shirt with business cards can charge 10,000 times that to give you his two cents.
But I'll just take the penny.
Today my thoughts are buy-one-get-one-free.
Häagen-dazs' Chocolate Peanut Butter Ice Cream is a beautiful thing for two reasons: number one- Dutch cocoa blended slowly, carefully, into rich, thick ice cream; number two- ribbons of natural peanut better folded in, smooth, sticky. Perfection.
And now, for a limited time only, you can have all the calories and none of the guilt because this pint-sized indulgence can help save the world’s hardest worker: The Honeybee.
Yes, dear reader, the honeybee is responsible for the pollination (ergo propagation) of about one third of American's diet1. But in the past two years, bees have been disappearing at an alarming rate! Conservative estimates suggest that 25% of honeybees have vanished,2 while in some states beekeepers report 90% of their colonies have been lost.3 Experts agree we have a crisis4.
Fortunately, you can help. Häagen-dazs' super premium ice cream5 is sponsoring a campaign to raise awareness and funding to protect our honeybee friends. Check out their website6 for more ways you can help to save the bees, or simply stop by your local grocery store and pick up a pint of Häagen-dazs' bee-friendly flavors7.
____________________
1Agnew, Singeli. “The Almond and the Bee.” San Francisco Chronicle October 14, 2007: p12+.
2“Bees Vanish, and Scientists Race for Reasons.” The New York Times Online.October 14, 2007.
3Arrandale, T. "Mystery of the Vanishing Pollinators." CQ Researcher, 17:2007. pp 985-1008.
4Berendaum, May R. Testimony before House Subcommittee on Horticulture and Organic Agriculture, March 29, 2007.
5 HDIP Inc. May 7, 2008, http://www.haagen-dazs.com.
6Visit http://www.haagen-dazs.com
7For more information regarding these "Bee-Dependant flavors" visit HelptheHoneybees.com
{And now, behind the potted plant: Honeysuckle Rose. Of course, no one does this song like Jane Monheit, but then again, no one does it like the Muppets either.}
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