Stormy Weather.

At its start, the storm didn't feel like it was going to be a terribly powerful one.  As the day progressed, however, the wind certainly picked up strength.  For the first time in a good while (a decade, at least), lost power for more than a few minutes. 

After about 1/2 a day, things switched back on.  It's still kind of raging out there, though.  And the next Spring tide will be coming in, soon, which will cause more problems.

Took a short walk around the neighborhood to see the extent of damage.  Was whipped about a fair bit by the wind:  Big girl that I am, who knows  how to keep steady in wind, needed at a couple points to grab a lamp post to not be blown into the street.  Kind of scary, kind of exhilarating.  Not anything I'd want to be out in for an extended period, though.

Thinking good thoughts for all the folks who had to evacuate due to the tides.  For all the First Responders, all the Folks keeping us safe, clearing downed branches, getting our electricity back up, helping to back up an already overtaxed infrastructure.  

Romantic Mood Lighting:  as everything here's dependent on electricity, just prepped up a simple snack of cheese, pickles, crackers, tinned fish.  The big treat was braving the elements for a warm drink from Dunkin:  meh.  Power finally did come on; rested in candle light for a bit, though, as it was so relaxing.

As bemusing as it is to see "Game Day" become another merchandising holiday along the lines of Valentine's Day, Halloween, etc, I will admit to appreciating the sales. Since the local grocery store had, among other things, avocados at a ridiculous price, gave in and took a distribution on my 403(b) to stock up.

Sitting here, gazing at my pile of Green Gold, cannot help but feel like I beat the system ... not unlike an investor in Bitcoin, or Precious Metals. I'm thinking of my avocados as having Intrinsic Value, like what the guy on the radio commercial says about gold. Unlike gold, however, their value isn't immutable. I'm going to have to figure out a way to store/use these things that have a habit of turning to compost all at once.

Love my green smoothies and guacamole. Could live on avocado toast. Not crazy about the eggs baked in the half-fruit that was all the rage on the internet a while back. Read somewhere that they could be used to make a particularly rich chocolate cake.

Any other recommendations / recipes would be welcome, along with storage tips.  

When Life Gives You Melons

... you just might be dyslexic.  (Là, je rigole.  Take it easy.)

This Summer, Life dropped a Persian melon the size of a baby, along with copious amounts of coppa into my lap.  What to do?  Turns out that no one I know likes cured ham with melon, and I had enough for a crowd.

Froze it all to make time to think about how best to use.

Last night, was looking in the freezer somewhat resentfully, as the melon takes up an awful lot of real estate.  Decided to take a container out to thaw.  Since we're going through some serious cold weather, and the year didn't exactly start out with a bang, decided to make something tropical, fruity, exotic:

- 1 1/4 c. pureed, thawed melon
- 1/4-1/3 c. canned coconut milk
- 3/4 - 1 t. powdered ginger
- juice and zest from 1/2 a lime
- Polar Ginger Lime Mule seltzer
- crushed ice

Blend together the melon puree, the coconut milk, the ginger and the lime.  Pour this mixture over crushed ice in your highball / orange juice / milk glass, then add seltzer.  Garnish with more lime and ginger if you'd like.

Serves 2.

I forgot how unctuous the coconut milk was.  Was surprised at how perfumey and perfectly sweet for my needs the melon was.

This is my melon ade, I guess.

It was a weekend of trying to get stuff done while coping with migraines and the sadness that usually settles in from the bureaucratic shortening of the days. Put away a manifesto of sorts* and cast-off in frustration some gratuitously French academic writing** that annoyed the hell out of me in both the source and my native tongue.

Still, needed a bit of something to settle down with at bedtime, so started rooting around the horribly disorganized bookshelves that recently went up in my room. The something ended up being nothing I'd normally choose: a mystery.



Found these at the Acton Library sale a few weeks ago. Since it was the last few hours of the sale, they were selling brown bags at a fixed price. Took them more for the cover art than anything else.

My mom and dad were big mystery readers and remember these stories around the house when I was a little kid. Since I could read at a very young age - two? three? I remember specifically picking up the books (Book of the Month Club editions, so hardbound with gold lettering) thinking that they were about a rabbit and just not understanding anything about what was going on between the covers. When I mentioned not understanding the Rabbit story, my mother got the biggest kick out of it; told me that it was a Rabbi, or Jewish Priest and not a rabbit. So much for that.

More recently, found an omnibus edition of the Rabbi Small works translated in French for the Frenchie. He, another big mystery fan, found them entertaining. (Never got around to looking at them because I was reading something depressing either by Henning Mankell or Didier Daeninckx. Both are good writers; not always good choices, though, if you are looking to go to bed in a good mood and not have nightmares.)

Anyway, finished the first story in two nights (probably would have pulled an all-nighter if I didn't have so much running around and headache fighting to do the next day). Enjoyed the novel means of problem-solving, the development of (glad to see) recurring characters, the slice-of-life (it takes place very near to home before I was born - so the issues of how the different communities in this little North Shore town are also very interesting.) aspect. Best of all, though the author (subtly) gave me a few clues, he did some good baffling as well; didn't know who done it until the last page. Bravo!

I don't read a lot of stuff like this, so am really glad to have hit upon something that was such a joy to read. Am looking forward to the next adventure which starts with the the Rabbi's wife trying to get him fed before the big fasting for Atonement Time.

***

* This is her first longer work for general consumption, I think. Though I generally enjoy her writing, found this to be a bit too repetitive and trying to persuade. Still, there was a lot of good in it - most notably in its nod to the discipline of complexity (something I'm starting to take an interest in). I love also how positive she is. In fact, that's the reason why I picked the book up. Needed something a bit uplifting.

**There's a reason why I did Literature; feel that the form is about as important as the content. Generally this filters out anyone with a Paris-[pick a with a Social-Sciences division Roman numeral] after their name. A friend suggested it to me more to see after how long I'd take to stop reading than anything else, I think.

Wanted to post some pictures from a recent Urban Expedition. Also wanted to talk about another added bit of fuel to my neurotic fire about returning to France in the near future. All this is getting put on the back burner, because Harry's back from Africa, safe and sound, and that trumps all.

I'm not even sure where I could begin on the Anchoress's piece on the tension between those she calls the Credentialed Gentry and the "Unwashed." Speaks volumes to my experiences here where I'm currently resting.

My Dad's a big fan of hers and he's a pretty sensible person. Don't know why I don't read her work more regularly.

Speaking of books: we decided on Cabeza de Vaca's adventures, which are sort of turning out to be like the Keystone Kops or something (that's what it seems like right now at the beginning of things, anyway).

Great Meadows.

This is becoming the default walk when we're slightly west of here and exercise time is limited. Like with the Mystic Preserve and the reservoir over near Alewife, it's always worth it to visit often, all year round.

Now's the time for greater contrasts and longer shadows due to the obliqueness of the sun's rays.



Local vegetation, already going out in a blaze of glory, seems further warmed by that gold light that one only sees this time of year.*



Saw a few birds: some coots, mallards and Canadas on the water. A crow, some swallows and (it was hard to tell) either yellow warblers or goldfinches with winter coloring in flight. We heard a downy woodpecker laughing at a joke that was clearly offending a mallard somewhere. Also, an odd call from what I thought to be a nuthatch**. Oh, saw a heron in the distance as well as some marsh wrens scritching around in the reeds.



Funny, but whenever I see a pair of geese in flight, I can't help but think of this poem.

***

* Here, it's gold in the Fall. Winter and Spring are pastels. Summer's primaries.

** Pavel said that it was too high pitched. Pitch aside, I think that it was the right cadence for a nuthatch.

While I was away, the kitchen and bathroom were slated to be renovated. For whatever reasons, those two jobs didn't happen. (Bathroom may start in a month or so; Kitchen's been put until next Spring.) Instead, some more work on the top floor of the house was done and a new roof was put on. Though this all was pretty painful to live through, the results are spectacular.



This is the view to the north of us from the new balcony that replaced the poorly-designed, rotten and dangerous spare room that was out my bedroom door. Dreams of conservatories and pergolas gave way to a nice, un-roofed space suitable for container gardening and basking. I think we'll be putting up a couple more bird feeders and some flower baskets as well.



New roof, new shingles, a new door and window. Take a look at that roof: isn't it beautiful? It's aluminum. Don't think that there are many of those in my neighborhood. Some informal testing with an infrared thermometer has shown that, under the midday sun, the aluminum is around 40 degrees cooler than the neighbors' asphalt one...let's hear it for early adoption of neat technologies!

Since the wall was going to be exposed again, it was going to need new shingles. I love the cedar and wish they weren't so expensive/labor intensive to pose. A whole house covered in these would be pretty impressive. As it stands, Pavel wants to paint the house blue. (Personally, I think Falu Red would be really nice with the white roof.)

The door and window got switched around in all this. Take a look at the window. It's important. (Here's a better view:)



When I first saw a new window go in, it was clear and fixed. This kind of made me sad, as I was hoping for another opportunity for a cross breeze. Little did I know that, hiding under a pile of old shingles and masonite, was this new take on the old stained glass that you find in lots of these late-Victorian era houses.



(View from inside - I put my bed right under it.)

Pavel likes stained glass a lot, and often, we'll take evening walks around the neighborhood just to admire the backlit windows often seen here. He particularly liked this window because it reminded him both of a rose and sunrise, both equally important as this is an east window.

Bit by bit, the house is starting to take on the personality of its owner. I'm hoping that he's starting to appreciate it; it's got a lot of potential just waiting to be released.

By the way, just noticed that if my blog were a child, it'd be in second grade now. Maybe, to celebrate, I'll take it to Topsfield today for a cider doughnut and a ride on the ferris wheel.

O Fortuna.

I don't think I (or anyone else, for that matter) could have foreseen any of the turns life took the past few years. Heck, when I started the blog, I was embarking on a new career, in what I thought to be the relationship of my life. Family seemed to be doing well, too.

Now? Well, complicated. New loves. Illness, death, something awful and unexpected. The prospect of a long move, of graduate school maybe, of a new start. (Not from Point Zero, but with all my history trailing behind me).

Honestly, it scares the heck out of me.

***

By the way: I made a sort of daube for dinner; it ended up more like a cross between boeuf bourgignon and boeuf aux carrottes. Really good. Was really in the mood for mussels, too, but the ones at the grocery store were terrible. Steamed myself some littlenecks instead.

Sesame Street, Math Help, Helpful Bugs.



What more could one ask for this Summer?

Words, maybe:

One two three
Four five six
Seven eight nine
Ten eleven twelve
Ladybugs
Came to the ladybugs' picnic

One two three
Four five six
Seven eight nine
Ten eleven twelve
And they all played games
At the ladybugs' picnic

They had twelve sacks so they ran sack races
They fell on their backs and they fell on their faces
The ladybugs 12
At the ladybugs' picnic

They played jump rope but the rope it broke
So they just sat around telling knock-knock jokes
The ladybugs 12
At the ladybugs' picnic

One two three
Four five six
Seven eight nine
Ten eleven twelve
And they chatted away
At the ladybugs' picnic

They talked about the high price of furniture and rugs
And fire insurance for ladybugs
The ladybugs 12
At the ladybugs' picnic
12!

Hypnotic.

Love how the internet can sometimes be like those Matryoshka dolls - you open one up to find another little treat within, &c, &c. Anyway, came upon this little video of some Arab IDF soldiers engaging in a traditional sort of poetry 'slam' and was really taken in by it:



Found it via Solomon, who linked to this site, an interesting one in its own right - and not just for the "explicit sexual language or innuendo found in most posts," either! Definitely take a look at Nizo's post on the subject - he gives an explanation of what the guys are doing along with a bit of a translation. (Honestly have to agree with him - the Druze guy is *awfully* cute. Love his voice, too.)


***

Sweet that the Bedouin guy calls himself 'Bulbul,' a kind of songbird found all over Africa and in the Middle East.

Day is Done,



gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills,
From the sky.
All is well, safely rest,
God is nigh.

***

Happy Memorial Day from Spring Hill.

Sunset on Spring Hill



The view from the front porch isn't the prettiest but sometimes it can be surprising.

"If you can fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, and - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!"



Dennis Hopper on Johnny Cash's show in 1970. There are other recordings of him reciting Kipling's poem during different stages of his life; all are interesting to watch. One can tell that he really took it to heart.

Rest in Peace.

Afternoon Feeding.



A male housefinch feeding a baby. It's a pity my camera doesn't have sound; the babies' squeaks are so incredibly high-pitched and loud that, really, only hearing is believing. Also, note the little one flapping just one wing: it knows full well how to feed itself, but if it can scam a free meal, it will.

OLD.

Happy Earth Day.



Should go without saying, but will repeat it anyway: NSFW.

(21st anniversary of Gaia busting my nose, too, by the way.)

Malcolm McLaren has died.

Guess he was best known for managing the Sex Pistols and Bow Wow Wow (one of Boy George's early efforts).

I'll always remember him for bringing Elitist Music to the Masses, though:



Gerome meets Cinemax after the kids have been put to bed.

Not to mention fusing The Urban Culture with the Cowboy Way.

Say what one wants, will maintain that he was one heck of a Bridge Builder.