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Good for your eyes.Love letter to peas & carrots
While I’m day dreaming the garden layout and the imaginary bounty of my vegetable garden, can we talk about peas?
Oh how much I hated the grayish army green peas that tasted like can and reliably appeared as the designated vegetable perched on the edge of every single plate of spaghetti threatening to contaminate the noodles with watery iridescent can juice. I had to always eat at least one forkful. I don’t think I ever ate more. Imagine whirled peas,indeed. My wily sister figured a way to smash the wrinkly waterlogged orbs to the underside of her plate and flick the vegetable interlopers to the dogs while she was clearing her place to the dishwasher. (There was also the time she taught my mom never to force her to eat anything ever again, when she threw up on the curtains in the kitchen and again on the carpet on the way to the bathroom- but that is a different vegetable.)
Dear peas, how could I have misunderstood you so? I love the flirtatious wispy tendrils of your early vines barely sautéed in garlic and olive oil or butter. I love the early delicate harvest that can be eaten pod and all. So sweet that cooking is just a formality. The wet crunch snapping the later peas, then unzipping the tough string from the edge of the pods and slipping a finger inside to pop each pea out one prayer bead at a time. Stray ones escape skittering across the counter and bouncing their pointy heads irregularly on floor. The dogs run after them knocking rugs and furniture aside to tilt their heads and dart their tongues into crevices that even good housekeeping (unlike mine) would miss.
On the phone with my grandmother the other day we were probably talking about my fantasy vegetable league draft picks from the seed catalog when she reminded me of the carrot salad she used to get from the Gentilly Pap’s market especially for me for family dinners. Apparently I was the only one who even liked it. I hadn’t known that she didn’t make it from scratch either. As a kid who didn’t like to eat almost everything, my mom at some point figured out the carrot salad recipe:
(Ben and any other mayo-phobes should stop reading here.)
Shredded carrots (I remember being tasked to help prepare dinner with a stack of carrots, the potato peeler, and the box shredder.)
1 can of pineapple chunks with 2/3 the juice drained off
Dollop of mayo
Handful of raisins or 2 of the small red boxes full
I’ve been thinking about it since the call but it is one of those kinds of coveted kid foods that may not work for an adult palate, so I wasn’t willing to invest in new ingredients to make it happen. No, not for a mayo based salad, but tonight the refrigerator remnants all fell together.
3 Shredded carrots (I should have peeled them and it would have been prettier bright orange but I was feeling lazy)
All the nearly done citrus in the fruit basket (zest, skinned chunks and juice of 1 blood orange, and 1 ½ tangerines)
Handful of golden raisins
Handful of dried cranberries
Spoonful of soy-naise
Ruby grapefruit, dried cherries and chopped walnuts or pecans would have also been good additions or substitutions.
Is it too trite to say I was thrilled that it was just as good as I remembered?
[ posted by shelly at 02/20/2008 02:19:55 AM ] [ link ] [ 7 responses ]
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More Questions Than Answers
By Friday we'd had no word from my mom and grandparents for four days. They'd been in a Slidell areas hospital unable to evacuate. My sister had been on the phone with my mom when the hurricane was hitting. My sister, evacuated to Baton Rouge, was tracking the storm on the internet via phone for my mom. My mom kept asking if they were near the eye yet, because the winds were so intense. I'm not sure if the hospital had lost power yet or not. My mom and PawPaw were unable to keep Granny dry from water coming in the broken window. I'm not sure if my sister's power or the cell connection went out first.
For the next four days everyone in the family tried every means they could think of to get communication into the black hole. Eventually we heard from my dad, he was able to evacuate my other grandmother out of the city. Media reports started stating that the hospital building where they'd been had fared better than most of the others in the area. That they had some supplies, some sporadic back up power, and the building was under guard. I combed google alerts of news, message boards of the lost and found people, text messages, cell phones, land lines, hospital email forms, phone lines went up but were busy, then were down again. Media reports on the hospital conditions started to seem worse. Phone lines seemed to get slightly more stable. The hospital set up a patient information hotline. It never had any information. I called the hospital again and again. No new information, but please keep calling.
Friday afternoon, my cell phone rang displaying my mom's cell number. I answered. The call was static-y, my mom was crying. Granny had died. She and PawPaw were able to escape the hospital. They'd try to make some preliminary arrangements for Granny. I let Mom know that we'd been in contact with my dad as recently as the night before. She told me they were in Diamondhead and planning to head to my great uncle's house in Baton Rouge. I was trying to dissuade them from going to Baton Rouge and send them in the direction of friends in areas that had been less overwhelmed by refugees or at least get my uncle's current address and phone number to her (they had an old one in the address book.) The line went dead. The call had been so short I hadn't even had time to verify what she meant by "in Diamondhead."
Were they on the road headed there? On the roads within Diamondhead? Were they at or headed to my grandparents house? The southern part of Diamondhead seemed to have been removed from the map. The portion where Granny and PawPaw lived had much more conflicting damage reports. I tried again and again to reach my mom's cell number, PawPaw's cell, his house line. Nothing. I had to start calling the family.
After crying a little and fretting over what to do next, first I called the Houston hotel where my 2 aunts and 2 uncles, cousin and her husband, and uncle's mom, and their three dogs were all staying, since it was the easiest line to reach, and since Granny's other two daughters were there. I delivered the news to my uncle. I had very few answers to most of the questions he asked, my phone call with my mom was about two minutes before we lost contact. I left him to break the news to my aunts and cousins. He also promised to try to get through to my grandmother's sister, her family, and the old family friends who also evacuated to Baton Rouge.
Then I tried calling my sister. Getting through to the 225 area code where she was staying, or 504 area code of her cell was impossible. I called my brother-in-law, since he travels frequently for work and had a cell phone with another area code exchange. Eventually I was able to get through to him. I told him the news to relay to my sister when she returned.
Then I had to try and contact my dad. Up until this point I had never been successful in reaching him by phone. He'd been able to contact me a few times for brief late night calls before the signal dropped out. After he reached me by phone the second time, he'd given me a land line to try, but it was dead the next day. Since then they'd found one cell phone among all the men living and working there which sometimes worked. It sporadically could connect late at night from the roof balcony of the rescue workers' shelter. I tried this cell number even though it was still early in the day. As I dialed I practiced what I would say so that if I could actually get through I could keep it succinct in case the connection was lost or someone else needed the phone. I finally got a live connection. Someone answered. I kept repeating who I was trying to reach through the static. The phone was handed off a few times and I could hear people in the background scuffling around and calling for my dad. After a minute a different man answered and said he'd take a mesage while they looked for my dad. I began the message. The line faded out. I called back repeatedly. I hit voicemail and was unable to leave a mesage. I was really afraid my dad would get a garbled version of the message and we'd be unable to contact him and correct it for days. I called back and got voicemail and this time it was woking properly. I tried to leave the message quickly and clearly, even though I knew they'd been unable to retrieve messages up till then. I kept trying for a live connection with no success. My line clicked, on the other line, one of the men who had answered the phone said my dad was out but to give him the message quickly and he'd relay it. He repeated it back to me. Wife safe. Father in law safe. Mother in law deceased.
Somewhere in there my mom called back. We spoke briefly, she was on the road to Baton Rouge, without an address or phone number, without knowing if my uncle had stayed in Baton Rouge or evacuated. We lost the connection again. My dad called and could only talk a minute. I confirmed the message but was really unable to answer any questions. My sister called back and cried. I gave her what I thought was the current address and phone of my great uncle, where mom and PawPaw were headed. My uncle in Houston called back with questions to which I didn't know the answers. I called my other grandmother to check on her and deliver the news.
Late that night I was able to get through to Baton Rouge again. My mom and grandfather had arrived safely and had at least a temporary place to stay. They had been in a complete communications black hole since Monday and hadn't yet seen or heard anything about the storm which they hadn't experienced directly. They said the medical staff had all been wonderful. Wearing security ambands, they had to try several ways to get out of the hospital which was under lockdown with several agencies and surrounded by crowds of desperate people. Apparently one of their cars still worked. They'd tried to find an open funeral home, failed, and gotten on the road to Diamondhead. They'd stopped briefly at my grandparents' house which was missing a wall and part of the roof, and had shifted off the foundation. The water damage was only rain, not flooding.They showered there and had called me. Since then the Baton Rouge family & evacuees have all called and gathered. My mom got to speak very briefly with my dad before we talked again.
She asked me to fill her in on the damage to the family houses. For days I've been asking no questions in the stilted and unreliable phone calls, simply noting the information offered, getting relevant details, relaying it to other family and friends. She'd only been in range of any media communications for several hours and her questions indicated that she still had no idea of the scope of the devstation. It was all still personal accounting. She'd seen her parents house. My other grandmother's house is still entirely under water. The dog which could not be evacuated probably drowned. My cousin's house in a neighboring area likely suffered a similar fate. One of her sister's house is also likely still entirely underwater. The other sister's house is the family house with the best chance of surviving. Appeared to have no water damage though a tree had fallen on the roof. Her other daughter's house had certainly taken water. How much was still speculation. Her own house was probably in water only up to the first story. I'd forgotten that she hadn't been talking about it and watching the news for days. "Only" under eight feet of water was how we'd already starting think about it. She wanted to know if anyone had been able to get to the house to check on the dogs which we couldn't evacuate. I had to tell her I didn't think so, but they still had the second storey to escape and had been left food and water upstairs. I figured she'd see the news soon enough, I didn't need to try to communicate the totality of the devastation from three thousand miles away on the night of her mother's death. I slept a little that night because it seemed like I hadn't in days.
Some friends of mine in Seattle were having a wedding several hours outside of town. Obviously I'd skipped all the Friday festivities and was uncertain of whether to go to the Saturday festivities. I'd been acting as the switchboard for over six days, but now that my mom was located I thought about taking a break and try to honor my friends life together. On the drive there I got a return call from one of my friends whose family I hadn't yet been able to track down. They were ill, but out of the city, in DC and Arkansas.
We arrived at the wedding grounds. The wedding was too far to get there and back in the same day so I had to stay overnight. It was really hard being in a jovial atmosphere though people were very kind and thoughtful. I felt guilty being part of a joyous day and celebration. I felt guilty sharing their joy when so many others I love are in such pain. I felt guilty being a specter of pain on their day of celebration. I tried to enjoy it but of course concerned friends would ask how I was, how my family was... It was hard to talk about in that setting. Their wedding was a beautiful personal ceremony in the mountains performed by another friend who was also beginning a new life. The rector and his wife had all of their things packed and were heading to Mexico to open the retreat they'd purchased a few months before.
I was worried that being close to the mountains, I wouldn't be able get reception and my dad would be unable to reach anyone if he was able to call that night. I left early and found a place on the campgrounds with the best reception. I did some electronic finagalling so a missed call would forward to my hotel room. Dad called, Mom called, disconnections all around. I sat outside trying to decide whether or not I was up to rejoining the party. I decided to try again to contact the last unaccounted friend of the list I'd made myself of people I needed to find. I've known her and her family since around first grade. I'd been worried about her because she and her family all lived near the levee and her father has been quite ill. I sent a text message. A few minutes later I actually got a response.
She is in a house near Gonzales with 19 other people, without phone or power. One is her toddler. Two others are also women I've known since childhood. All three are nurses. One of their mothers is missing and presumed dead. They have food and water for now, but have spent most of their money on gas to get into Baton Rouge where they've waited all day in lines for FEMA service which ran out. The baby is upset and confused. My friend's brother and sister-in-law are doctors. I'm not sure if they're among the 20 in the house now, but the sister-in-law was one of the doctors who were trapped in one of the New Orleans hospitals which was stranded. With the imprecise nature of text messages, I'm not sure where the sister-in-law is now. I think she got out of the hospital and in touch with them before it was completely shut down. The nurses all want to go help do relief in the hospitals but are afraid for their safety, and of getting stranded, and are running out of money for transportation. I was trying to get enough details to get them help but the messages stopped and mine went without reply.
Most of my family has always lived less than an hour away from each other. Actually most of them live within fifteen minutes of each other. My family isn't really that large, (I only have two aunts and two first cousins) but everyone counts, and we're in touch with almost all of them, the great aunts and uncles, the numbered cousins of several generations, the in-laws, the close families of the in-laws . With the news of my grandmother's death, people took a deep breath and started filling me in on news they'd neglected to tell me in the choppy communiques of the past week.
They'd been turning down and redirecting the aid they were offered, because as they said, "we're obviously not the real victims here." As the damage became evident, both my aunt's found temporary/permanent work within their companies in Houston. One uncle can work remotely from there, one had a recruiter seeking work for him in the area. His mother had been put in a Houston hospital for heart and vision problems and would return to her daughter in Baton Rouge when she gets out. My cousin can stay with friends and work for a branch of her comapany in Lafayette. Her husband will seek new work there. My sister's husband's office was setting up in Baton Rouge too. My sister will likely lose her job because she is unwilling to be 3-4 hours away from him to work at a Shreveport or Lake Charles branch. The family friends of 35 years, and my parents neighbors for almost 25, were setting up in Baton Rouge. Their grandkids had gone to Dallas. My dad's mom is in rural Texas with her sister indefinitely. We're pretty lucky that with the exception of my parents, all the families have at least one person who works for a company large enough to absorb and redistrute the employees elsewhere. So while they're all technicaly homeless, they still won't be completely without means.
I am very worried about where my mom will go. Her father too. I'm very worried about the stuations my dad is still in and when he'll ever be able to get out of there. Although I've been far away for years, it hit me hard to realize that it is unlikely that my family will ever all be collected so closely in one place ever again. I have been dealing with the loss of the physical places. The news of the loss of people will be a slow creep for years into the future. This feels like the loss of the community too, even of the ones who survive. My mom is always the organizer, the bossy older sister and mother who gathers everyone together to mark occasions large and small. I think she will feel this loss profoundly once it sinks in. The level of familial obligations was sometimes annoying but it was also really comforting to have such a network of people and place and history gathered around and connected. I don't know where else I'll ever feel rooted to the ground like I did in New Orleans. Sometimes that was a positive thing, and sometimes it was negative, but even when I felt like my parents' house was no longer Home, when I'd made homes of my own other places across the country, New Orleans and family and friends there, were Home. Everyone everywhere you'd go there was someone you knew, or someone who knew someone you knew. When I think about the city now and the challenges ahead, each person or place I recall brings to mind dozens of people and places, those I knew well, and those I didn't. People in the background of your mind. Ones you don't stay in touch with but exchange genuine pleasantries with when you run into them every so many years. I wonder did they get out? did they survive? I think we will all be mourning for such a long time.
Extreme hardheadedness runs in my family on both sides. My grandfather is determined to have a proper burial for Granny. With a contact from a friend, and what I suspect quite a lot of stubborness of the standing-in-someone's-office-until-you-get-satisfaction variety, they've arranged for a funeral home in Baton Rouge to go pick up her body from the morgue in Slidell. Two days went by and nothing was done, so my mom and grandfather insisted on riding with the funeral director that day to Slidell to set up the pick up (phones still down.) The women of the family had spent the day before picking out an appropriate outfit to dress her. My grandfather and his brother spent a day waiting in the emergency room for a doctor to check on his recent surgery recovery. In a normal situation he'd be monitored by a doctor twice a week, they told him he seemed ok, come back next month. I can't believe my mom and grandfather got back on the road and headed back in that direction. I feel slightly guilty at the amount of resources they are directing toward a funeral when so many living people are still suffering but I guess they are coping and trying to get closure in an awful situation.
My sister and brother-in-law, in my opinion foolishly, decided to try to get back to their house in the 12 hour window allowed by Aaron Broussard. I spent a lot of today worried about people in dangerous situations on the road or getting re-stranded somewhere. The idea of people returning to check on "stuff" makes me angry , because it is resources spent resaving people who were already safe. It prolongs the amount of time people like my dad remain in danger trying to save people. At any rate my sister returned to her house. It had taken three feet of water which had mostly receded already. She tried to salvage a few things and grab some work clothes which looked cleanable so she can start job hunting again. I heard of their safe return from my mom.
Shortly thereafter I heard via my sister that my dad had been in contact with news from my parents' house. My dad said things are slowly getting a little bit safer, which indicates to me how bad they must have been before. Crews had been working in their neighborhood area and had found our dogs in the house alive. The old dog was very weak and both dogs were very frightened. They got to my dad and hope to get them to my sister and mom in Baton Rouge if my dad can get a couple of hours to be reunited with my mom he'll bring the dogs too. The older one probably won't make it, but I think it will comfort my mom to get to see him again. I feel guilty that dogs were saved and so many people weren't, though I love those dogs and I'm relieved at one fewer loss. My sister also delivered word that a police officer cousin on my dad's side, who'd been presumed dead, was actually located and had been pulled from a flooded rooftop. His son, (my fourth cousin?) tracked me down and we checked in, compared the lists everyone from here has, of those who are found safe, and those who are still lost. A (second?) cousin on my mom's side was able to contact me from where they'd evacuated to Baton Rouge. Her mom (Granny's sister) and dad were further evacuating to a son in Colorado, who could ensure that my aunt contined to receive medical treatment. They'd heard about Granny from the hospital. I put them directly in contact with my mom and grandfather at my great uncle's house. I kept trying to send more text messages to my friend the nurse. She finally responded that they'd had to rush someone in the house to the hospital. I'll get more information later if she can get through. If I can figure out where exactly she is, I can get them to some alternate shelter with friends in the region, or at least get them some food. I'll just keep trying.
If my family can arrange a service, I may be in Baton Rouge by the end of the week. I was told by my mom and grandfather to "absolutely not even consider" going. Again with the genetic hard head. A temporary mauseleum will be arranged, and Granny's body will be moved to New Orleans in a year or more, whenever such a thing is feasible. I'll probably spend some time with family near Houma, but I may need to find a place to stay in Baton Rouge for a night or so because I don't want to further burden the already overfull family homes there.
I can't easily imagine what it is like for people who are where the storm hit. Being here is awful enough. I've been so busy trying to track people down and relay messages that I haven't had too much time to reflect yet. Different things trigger a jumble of memories of people and places and things. I worry that what I am doing isn't the right thing, or isn't enough, cause it can never be enough. The feelings of loss are not prioritized, here a lost pet, there a restaurant I'd looked forward to revisiting, a particular tree, the greatgrandchildren Granny will never hold, a photo in my parents house, the buildings where I attended school, and the people and the people and the people, the ones I knew and didn't. I'm trying to do whatever I can to help my family and friends. I'm directing people where I live on how to help, and not to forget this once it is no longer top of the news. I'm so sad and angry and sad. And sad.
[ posted by shelly at 09/05/2005 06:09:00 AM ] [ link ] [ 13 responses ]
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jacob's letter to npr
I was born in raised in Houma, Louisiana, a city which was spared the wrath of the hurricane, and in the aftermath of Katrina has begun to accept refugees. I've lived in Seattle since 1999 and I'm frankly quite pleasantly suprised by the outpouring of support I've seen from the people fo Seattle, and also by the amount of coverage this disaster has received here.
However, I am incredibly disappointed by the level of response from the federal government. As usual President Bush is sitting down on the job. Perhaps if 40% of the Louisiana National Guard weren't in Iraq they could be deployed to the Gulf Coast where they are needed much more urgently. After all, the role of the National Guard is, in fact, to establish civil order following domestic disaster, not to fight highly trained insurgents in foreign guerilla wars. Furthermore, the fantastic giveaway to the credit card companies that Congress signed into law with the new Bankruptcy Bill will undoubtedly plunge many residents of an already impoverished city into complete poverty.
Why have the feds not responded with total force and efficiency? Part of the problem is that people elsewhere in the United States cannot conceive of this level of destruction occurring within a major American city. With rotting corpses floating in the streets, fires raging uncontrolled, and scores of survivors still trapped in their homes, this situation will most certainly get worse before it gets better. My girlfriend's father is a Vietnam veteran and a fireman for the city of New Orleans, and in the spotty 20 second cell phone calls we've received from him, this usually stoic, John Wayne type sounds choked up.
I have an interesting audio file for you.
(link to Nagin interview)
This is an interview with New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin, who has begun to sound increasingly exasperated at the foot dragging of the Bush administration in dealing with this crisis. The intervew, which does in fact contain some profanity from the mayor, reveals a very angry man who'd take charge if only he had the authority to do anything. I'm baffled by the lack of leadership from President Bush, Governor Blanco, and Senators Breaux and Landrieu. Ray Nagin for President!
Sincerely,
Jacob
[ posted by shelly at 09/03/2005 01:54:32 AM ] [ link ] [ 4 responses ]
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third hand Kat
So in the confusion of the extremely brief phone call with my dad this morning, we miscommunicated. He actually has NOT spoken to my mom or her parents since the storm hit. My sister got to speak with Dad briefly tonight and she said he sounded better than I described this morning. They'd been pulling hundreds of people from rooftops and chopping people out of their attics. I probably spoke to him immediately after a long shift of that.
My sister reported that dad sounded cautiously optimistic. He said that though it is really terrible, the news is sensationalizing it a little bit, and the destruction is not (yet) quite as even handed as the media reports lead you to believe. I hope the abandonment of the levees and pumping stations won't make national news reports an accurate foretelling, as lake waters contine to rise in all of the city on the east side of the river. Dad and his mom have been evacuated from the downtown to the Westbank somewhere, probably Gretna. He's going to try to get my grandma to my sister in BR, and she'll bring my grandmother to my great aunt's house outside of Houston where she can stay indefinitely until there is someplace to return. It also sounds like with the arrival of the National Guard, my dad won't be doing as much of the really dangerous work for a while. He was actually going to get to sleep tonight.
My mom and her parents are in the NorthShore Regional Medical Center in Slidell. I know Slidell in general looks really really bad, but based on what we've heard about the hospitals in that area, we're hoping they should be ok. Another hospital in the area was evacuated, but power, water, food, etc to the remaining ones was being made a priority. Anyone who happens to see any specific information about conditions at the North Shore Regional Medical Center in Slidell please email me the link or post it here. That area has been in total communication blackout since the storm, which was why it was so unbelievable that my dad had news about them this morning. As it turns out, it was unbelievable, but a miscommunication the family was all eager to believe. We can actually reach voicemail ocasionally now, so I'm hoping some of the grids are coming back up and we'll be able to get in touch with them by cell or land line tomorrow.
Those of the family who work for national or even statewide companies are beginning to try to work out arrangements to work remotely or in a Houston, Alexandria, Baton Rouge, or Layfayette office. Now out of direct harm's way, those who still might have jobs are desprately trying to keep income coming in. So many businesses will be gone cause small locals can't afford to rebuild or larger companies will simply close up the New Orleans branch and relocate. A family group of aunts and cousins are examining the possibility of extended stay housing in Houston. most of them only have a change of clothes or so, but that is already so much more than so many others right now.
No one has talked much about property though we've all been scouring the forums for reports on neighborhood conditions. Some of our homes we know are total loss. For one or two we hold out hope they may be on slightly higher ground, but none of that may matter tomorrow morning as waters continue to flow through the breached levees they've abandoned trying to fix. I'm also hoping the dogs were able to get high enough up in the second story of the house to stay out of trouble. I know that seems a pretty petty concern given everything else, but I do think it all the same.
There are still a few friends I haven't been able to track down or get second or third hand information about their evacuation plans. I left the phone on but I'm turning the news off for the night. I'll get back up when WWL is back on in the morning.
Apologies for spelling, grammar, rambling, and incoherent sentences.
[ posted by shelly at 08/31/2005 03:43:33 AM ] [ link ] [ 18 responses ]
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ocean road fever fever
i am going to england & scotland for about 3 weeks. if there is something i shouldn't miss, please tell me about it here.
if you would like a postcard, email my head. several of you, i should have addresses for, but packing to move when i return has left everything a shambles. please, email me your address again.
the current itinerary:
walking in the fells of the lake district, edinburgh, glasgow, manchester, london, bath, stonehenge
I'll visit mattie
and his family, here
and carl's mum in a 700 year old mill
and barbara in glasgow
and
and
and
i can't wait
i can't wait
i can't wait
[ posted by shelly at 08/17/2004 07:39:15 PM ] [ link ] [ 24 responses ]
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you're in trouble
so this weekend i went to a beautiful mountain cabin on a small river waterfall in the woods two hours outside seattle
i joined the bachelorrette party of Mist-ical Miss Missdemeanor along with Newkie, K-rage, Crystal the Pistol, A-mar, Jewels, Beck, Mik, Meg-o, and one or two others i forgot. before i left town, i expressed my last wishes, since i thought it entirely possible that i may not return from the bacchanalian festival of inititation rites known as:
the weekend started off mildly enough with discussion of various bizarre personal grooming rituals
and silly accessories were provided
even for the animal spirits...
the rites increased in intensity to include symbolic tattoos
first presents were offered
then totems and talismans were offered
but the omens were not good.
although certain phrases were verboten, and disobeying the bans resulted in various punishments, there was the traditional retelling of the tribe lore including the Accidental Sale of the Vibrator Hidden Inside the Hello Kitty Backpack one fateful yard sale many many years ago:
excessive quantities of the ceremonial drinks were imbibed:
these beverages and their serving vessels varied in complexity:
the spirit of dance began to move the revelers
emboldened with liquid courage, the seekers began hunting and war games. first with slingshots. then with blunt clubs upon effigies
several injuries resulted, but the bludgeoning continued until gifts poured out of the broken effigy
then in a frenzy, the initiates prepared their water-guns for a bear hunt
the bear was a wily foe
many were hit with crossfire. many of the team t-shirts were wet and sullied in the woods. when the hunt was complete, all returned to camp to dry out and relax before enjoying a taco buffet. various amusements passed the time
light reading:
games:
all were exhausted
as night fell, energy levels again soared and the party migrated to the nearest local watering hole.
altercation ensued with the native tribe and the party was forced to return to camp.
toasts and shots continued.
a ceremonial pastry was presented to the bride to be
usually in these rituals, a man, stranger to both the bride to be and her party of female escorts, performs a ritualistic dance by removing a uniform and simulating coitus through dance. in this case no such dancer was available in the remote location so the cake was adorned with a figure known as the “Ten Dollar Stripper”
the Ten Dollar Stripper was licked clean of pastry remnants and boisterous laughter ensued at this turn of events
drinking, partying, and celebration of the liminal bride and worship of the fire and waterfall continued into long into the night.
as for the rest of the details, what happens in the woods, stays in the woods.
[ posted by shelly at 07/20/2004 04:50:48 PM ] [ link ] [ 13 responses ]
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i've been feeling kind of grumpy. things at my job have gotten awful pretty rapidly.
but i'm trying to keep perspective.
i think i seem contemplative.
but my coworker says i look like the wicked witch lately. so, i guess some of the grumpiness is showing.
really, anyone can do my job. and i chose it for it's mindlessness. so it wouldn't take too much of my energy away from other things. it is nothing worth getting worked up about really.
the book Working by Studs Terkel is really good. it is simply a series of interviews from the 70s with people about their jobs.
a lot of other things are changing too. most of my attachments and ties to seattle are coming to a close. every so many years this seems to happen where everything changes and all the opportunities are open again.
sometimes it makes me really miss my family.
so i've been planning to move. not necessarily out of seattle, though i haven't ruled that out yet either.
i've gotten rid of 22, 44 gallon garbage bags of stuff. how did i get so much stuff?
  
and though i know it is a terrible idea, i keep entertaining the notion that once i sell my place and bring my job to a close, that i'll take however much money that leaves me
and move where ever i can afford a plot of countryside land
then i'll see how long it takes me to starve to death trying to eat out of the garden that i will grow.
i'm still stuck on the pictures josh brings back from north dakota every summer,
and land there is cheap...
it seems to be a good time for change and for trying new things.
i went sailing for the first time yesterday. it was very exhilirating and exhausting. and i felt like the great gatsby afterward when my partner told me it would be nice if i developed an, “interest.”
a lot of my friends have big changes going on too. moving, changing careers, going back to school, having babies, getting divorced, getting married...
i'm trying to be a good sport with all the awful showers & bachelorette parties, bridal party pictures, and wedding chaos
  
in the meantime, i'm using the coping mechanisms of every normal adult
CANDY
 
& BEER
 
my new favorite candy is Haribo Fruit Salad
   
[ posted by shelly at 07/13/2004 05:36:35 PM ] [ link ] [ 13 responses ]
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summer crush
so i was walking down the street carrying this suitcase:
when two guys came up to me, and one said “cool suitcase.”
i said thanks.
then the other guy with the marker drawings all over his shoes and backpack jumped in front of me and said, “HEY! did you hear about that train, the one that got taken over by the ETs? and the ET men turned all the people on board into luggage?”
without waiting for an answer, he stepped out of my path and began walking ahead of me again. then he really quickly turned around once more, and asked, “do you think that... is one of the ET suitcases?”
i conceded that it probably was one of the ET suitcases.
we each went along our way.
i did find this suitcase in a dumpster a couple of years ago. so maybe it was...
later on i saw this small tragedy:
this:
appeared in my neighborhood. of course i felt compelled to stand next to the hotdog man and also flip everyone off.
below is a list of things i intended to write more about when i'm not doing my stupid job in front another computer all the waking hours of my days. but now it is already hopelessly outdated, so here is a list:
 altar
seeing the video DIY or Die, and meeting the guy who made it Michael Dean, the guy from the $30 _____ School books. he sang some of his music.
ahem.
and talked about his love for cats. he apparently had a job for an animal shelter socializing kittens to make them adoptable. which would be about the best low paying job in the world. except i’m allergic to cats.
seeing a Christian Marclay exhibit and performance.:
the gallery stuff was full of conceptual works using album covers and musical instruments.
the video sound collages were really cool. the actual music performances were a bit long for me to maintain interest but it was awesome to see the gray haired old men, snoozing through some pretty loud chaotic musical performances. without fail they’d awaken when the applause began and join right in.. one of the pieces performed was from a score created by wheat pasting blank score sheets all over berlin, then photographing the graffiti which people would add to them. these photos of random notation and doodles encompassed the “score” which was “played.” marclay jammed with others using the turntables as an instrument, making accidental sounds intentional: like dropping the needle to create percussion and shuffling the records while loading them
this image is from guitar drag a piece which memorializes the lynching of James Byrd Jr. by videotaping the dragging of a plugged in electric guitar being dragged behind a pick up truck for 2.5 miles
saw a show called Flamingo Bar by a German pupeteer where the line between puppet and puppeteer became very blurry.
saw Rasputina play an excellent set of originals and odd covers. all the pretty goths were out in force.
saw The Billy Nayer Show. no one was there but it was still such an excellent show it blew me away. i got a copy of The Ketchup & Mustard man film by the Billy Nayer Show so i finally got to see it after years of trying to figure out what the hell the soundtrack from it could possibly be all about.
saw Son of Blob produced by Larry Hagman which was kitten eating fun..
went to the Quintron & Ms. Pussycat dance party and was not disappointed.
went to a variety of shows at 2nd Ave Pizza.
the vegan potato pizza here is really good. in spite of the fact that the rest of the pizza here really isn’t. and it isn’t really pizza without cheese, but still.
since the what killoggs is eating feature isn’t there yet, i won’t detail the really excellent meals I had at
Geneva (including a bizarre manners seminar taught by an odd east german man, that i tried, but failed to get my work to pay for as a personal enrichment “class,”)
Dulces Latin Bistro for Tracy's 5 hour birthday dinner
Marrakesh- which made me want to live in a tent and eat dinner from cushions on the floor every night
the class i was taking through work which dealt with mercury as an environmental pollutant. i left hungry for sushi every time. and working all day and falling over my homework every night made me feel like i’d slipped into a time warp.
the visit from my college friend post sex change operations. this continues to be an educational experience.
i had a dream that i remembered how to crochet(hon taught me a few stitches when i was around 8 which i mostly don't remember.) i made a long pink acrylic strand of those single looped things. loop hook. loop hook. loop hook. whatever those are called.
also in dream world, i am obsessed with the 4 track i borrowed, though i'm not actually using it much yet. many ideas are brewing. i wish i could record the soundscapes of my dreams. in a year-ish i think i'd like to take a cabaret on the road. some combination of puppets, art, music, silliness, fashion? possibly even sooner than that depending on how things at my job go. i’m considering after this job ends packing up everything and buying a small farm.possibly in upstate new york. or north dakota. i wonder how long it would take me to starve to death like that?
in bill’s basement in addition to the tons of musical equipment in various states of repair, and the mannequin with the light up nipples, and the not yet motorized to be perpetually spinning prayer wheel, is this light up sign. over and over it flashes
“Don’t”
[ posted by shelly at 07/07/2004 03:47:05 PM ] [ link ] [ 18 responses ]
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