19 June 2008
I hope
I am never too old
to kneel
on the sidewalk,
face pressed against
the warm ground,
to watch a snail breathe.
Wonder
Travel log ii: anomalies
16 June 2008
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.
The circus comes to town
13 June 2008
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.
May I suggest something from the vegetarian menu?
07 June 2008
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.
Common cents
04 June 2008
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.
Sweeter, goodness knows
02 June 2008
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.}
Snapshot
30 May 2008
To really appreciate the moment, let me explain the proceeding pandemonium:
It was nothing particularly unusual; Lilly threw My First Potty Board Book at Ava because Lilly is two and likes throwing things and that book was particularly handy and also because Ava wouldn’t share the Playskool chicken. So Ava threw the chicken (because four-year-olds like to throw too) at which point Lilly pinched her.
I have found it best to let these tiffs blow over, but Lilly pinches hard and Ava’s screams (of pain unfeigned) were my cue to run interference. I tried a few distractions (“Ava, come show me your dollhouse!”). These were met with shrieks of protest. And my most diplomatic reasoning (“I can see that you’re upset, sweetheart; Can you use words instead of screaming?”) met with similar objection.
Not one to be left out of the fun, Lilly caught the spirit of the thing and began to launch Noah’s Ark&Friends at the closet target- me. Besides strong pinching fingers she has a strong throwing arm and surprisingly good aim.
“Okay, good throwing Lilly; but please don't throw at people”
“NO!” was punctuated with a flying plastic cheetah.
And this is how it started. I can’t now recall just how the hysteria subsided, but somewhere between the hippo sur l'aile and air-born Noah himself, Ava announced she was going to play dress-up and the chaos was suddenly over.
I was still recovering from the flying zoo as Ava helped Lilly into Tinkerbell’s fairy dress, and Lilly helped Ava find her Snow White red hair bow. I was asked to fasten all their Velcro and was given the feather boa as thanks. And also the butterfly wings and the princess hat that matched.
Then we went sidewalk chalking.
I wish I were a neighbor who might have peeked over the backyard fence and seen the three of us scribbling away: Lilly looked the very picture of a fairy with her runaway blond hair of tight, tiny curls and her face crinkled into her gleeful (impish) grin; Ava, herself a blonde Snow White, chattered about her favorite princesses as she minced around in her Plastic Glass Sippers With The Little Pink Bows, practicing her A-V-A in pink and purple chalk. If I had been watching from across the way, I would have taken a picture.
But I wasn’t. Instead, I sat in the middle of it all and drew big flowers in orange and blue.
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