Monday, September 07, 2009

our crazy, crafty, creative labor day weekend

Like a horse moved to a new barn, or a dog rescued from a shelter and taken to a strange house, I think I've been in the process of realizing that this little, postage-stamp-sized farmstead on the mountain is Home. I'm pretty sure this process started happening back at the end of June, when it looked like escrow was actually going to close without too much of a hitch. And I'm pretty sure that a new part of this process - maybe the final part - happened during this long Labor Day weekend, which we kicked off by going to the Fair - an inevitably and creatively sensual experience that must have dislodged something that's been stuck for a while way down in my psyche. Friday night we were all exhausted, but on Saturday we decided to bake a double batch of Tollhouse cookies:


Why, yes, that IS a Siamese cat sleeping in the background, completely unimpressed by our culinary endeavors. Want proof?

On Sunday, one of the kids started talking about what kinds of plants we might enter in the Fair next year, so "Come with me," I said. I told them that I'd been eyeballing the property, trying to come up with the best place to plant a garden. The spot I tentatively chose has southern and eastern exposure, but it's blocked on the west and the north. It's where the entrance to the crawlspace is located, and our big, steel water cistern is buried nearby, too, so there's no chance we'll put a deck or other addition there. Plus, the previous owners left some heavy duty steel "planters" buried in the ground, and I figure those could come in handy for growing herbs. Right now, the spot is weedy and untended, but give us the winter to dream up our garden wish list and the spring to build raised beds, and there's no telling what kind of life we might breathe into that patch of ground:

I told the kids we could actually get started on the garden now, despite the fact that we'll soon be heading into fall and the already short northern Arizona growing season is getting close to being over. They were all excited, until I told son to grab the wheelbarrow and follow me and daughter while we walked the property and tossed as many old, dried out cow pies in as we could find (our land is on open range, and apparently, the last owners didn't close the front gate. Bovine visitors were clearly abundant). Actually, it didn't take the kids long to get excited even about that. It's amazing how fun it can be to collect petrified cow crap. Try it sometime. Afterward, we dumped the patties on the space I'd built for our compost pile. I used a bunch of cinderblocks that were left over after the little horse barn blew away in that rogue tornado:

Throughout the day, daughter would ask if I had anything that she could throw on the pile. Such a little Earth Girl. Go figure.

Today, we'd hardly gotten up and eaten breakfast before the creative urges struck again. It started with a big bag of apples that's been sitting on my counter all week, threatening to become compost fodder if I didn't do something quick. So, with the kids' help in the mashing phase, I batched up a quick pot of homemade apple sauce to serve with chicken sausage and my favorite Trader Joe's Basmati rice blend topped with mushroom sauce for dinner:


Have you ever done this? It's the easiest thing in the world! Four ingredients: Apples, water, sugar and cinnamon. Take a few minutes to peel and core the apples, cut them into quarters, boil all the ingredients together for a while, cool 'em down and mash 'em. Voila! Warm, homemade applesauce with an amazing taste and texture that will leave you feeling a little bummed out the next time you have to use storebought.

We even held back the peels and rings to dry for this year's Homemade Christmas:


I did mention that I was basically Martha on roids this weekend, right? Lizzie was as unimpressed as the cat. That's daughter's abandoned apron and son's abandoned artwork on the floor:

I was willing to overlook the increasingly daunting mess, though, since just about every time I checked on the kids, both of them were feverishly working on stories and pictures and even paper sculpture creations like this cat/kitten/bird/egg/watermelon/garden combo created by daughter:



I don't know what the heck was in the water around here for the past few days, but whatever it was...give me more.

Friday, September 04, 2009

fair's fair

The 60th annual Coconino County Fair is in town, and today was the official "school day," where all school-aged kids (and their teachers, chaperons, etc.) get in free. I volunteered to help chaperon first grade, and it was big fun. Well, for the most part it was big fun. By the time we hit the poultry barn it started to pour, so our group made several passes by all the cool chickens. I was, of course, especially drawn to the Silkies, which will always be my first "poultry love." I may finally be getting over the loss of my flock last year enough to think about re-flocking. This time (probably not until spring, when the Easter chicks hit the feed store in town), I'd like to add Americaunas and maybe some Rhode Island Reds to the mix, since both are supposed to be great layers. Silkie eggs are yummy, but they're small, and it would be good to have regular and large-sized fresh eggs next summer. Of course, I'll have to build my coop first.

I always love touring the Home Ec. building, too. In past years I've entered things like soap and fudge in the fair, and I was inspired by the cookies and cakes this year. I'd also like to think I will finally plant a garden again, now that we're getting settled in the new place, so I can maybe enter some herbs, tomatoes and pumpkins. Alas, though, that, too, will have to wait until spring. Still, it's something else to look forward to...

Last weekend, I judged the horse show portion of the fair. I'm not sure why they hold the horse show a week before the actual fair opens, but they do. That was a good time as well. Unlike other horse shows, the County Fair show is always sort of an "Elly Mae Clampett meets Chad and Muffy from the Country Club" affair. You have 4H kids from all over the region, including the Rez (who have been practicing in their back yards), mixing with the more well-to-do kids (who have been working with their trainers), and I love the fact that hard work and natural talent always trump a fat bank account: You can't buy raw skill and a handy horse-rider pair, whether it's over a course of fences or in a reining pattern.

By the time the school buses pulled up to the front entrance today, it was pouring again. Our group found the closest tent under which to wait out the deluge. Turned out it was the Scientology tent, which meant that we got to read all about L. Ron Hubbard and Thetans as the rotisserie guy across the way tried to keep the rain off his grill and the technicolor stilt walker hunkered down under a tent of his own.

Hey, when it comes to the fair, there's room for all kinds.

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

good morning

Here's something to watch the sunrise and monsoon-ey clouds for those of us drinking our coffee in Northern Arizona this morning.

Brings me back to my first year of college, when my roommate in the dorm would wake me up at dawn each morning by blasting Cat and the Dead.

Friday, August 28, 2009

the wind began to switch, the house to pitch...

Lest you think it's ever a good idea to enjoy a quiet, relaxing day at home, somewhat smug in the knowledge that all is right with the world and that nothing could go wrong...

Just come on over to my place, and I'll learn ya good.

See, I was doing just that earlier today - getting some work done, munching some munchies, watching Lizzie and Rosa actually playing together (well, Lizzie was playing. She'd drop her tennis ball in front of the cat, who, quite predictably, would ignore it completely). Basically, I was keeping it chill and enjoying the rare peace and quiet.

You know something's coming, don't you? Because you're no doubt smarter than I was, no doubt a little more world-wise and a little less Pollyanna-ish.

So, here's how it went down: Out of nowhere came a screaming (literally) gust of wind that rattled the wooden blinds and caused both animals to look at me like WTF??

Naturally, I ran to the front windows and closed them both up tight, all the while reminding myself that this solid little house has certainly withstood worse than a rogue dust devil over the decades. Plus, I lived out on the Prairie for years, so it's not like I haven't seen my share of mini-Arizona tornadoes. When I got back to the computer, however, I realized that the gust must have knocked the power out. Sigh. Time to check the fuse box (knowing that the issue was probably with one of the big APS boxes down the road). I headed out the back door to check it anyway, and that was when I spotted several neighbors rushing around their properties while pointing to mine.

The crabby part of me started to think something like, What's their problem? until I looked to where they were all pointing, which was at the spot where my little horse shelter/barn used to be.
Used. To. Be.

Because, not only was the shelter gone, but the two-by-six beam, heavy-duty shingle roof had apparently been picked up whole, lifted about twenty feet in the air (where it knocked out the overhead power line), spun around and deposited on my neighbor's property. Strangely enough, not a single thing in the wood/storage/tack shed right next to it was moved even half an inch.

After the initial shock wore off, I realized that I should seriously count my blessings, because nobody - neither human nor hoofed nor pawed - was hurt, and a horse shelter can always be replaced.




Thursday, August 27, 2009

those mice ain't playing anymore

A promise was made to my cat-crazed daughter about a year ago, and it went something like this: Yes, you can get a cat...WHEN we move into a place that we own (as opposed to renting, which we were doing at the time). And so, now, let me present...

(drum roll, please)

...a promise kept:


Blogosphere, meet Rosa.

Rosa, Blogosphere.

"Why Rosa?" I wanted to know when cat-crazed daughter announced her name.

"Because she's beautiful like a rose, and because she's cute, and because I was thinking about Princess Rosa from Puss in Boots."

Fair enough. This kitty is beautiful, and she has an awesome little personality. She's a year old, so she's already litterbox trained, more mellow than a kitten and very self-assured. She also arrived at the Coconino Humane Society with two kittens - one six weeks and one six months. So, it appears the poor thing has already had two litters, which may explain her petite size and can-do attitude.


I'm a little worried that Rosa isn't happy here in her new home, though - that she may be a bit too tense:

And Lizzie? How's Lizzie liking her new sister, you ask? Oh, Lizzie is thrilled beyond belief! Lizzie can hardly contain her excitement! Lizzie is...


...Well, I'm sure she will be exceedingly pleased in time, right?
Right??

I think Lizzie may be smelling her halo. Or maybe I've just had a certain song stuck in my head today. Either way, our new addition is already a blessing.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

keeping it simple

The inside of the house looked like a tornado hit it today: The massive cardboard box from the range we picked up at Best Buy sat in the middle of the living room floor, embellished with scarves, blankets, dog toys - anything that would make its new incarnation as a secret fort more complete; half-finished homework covered the coffee table while the afternoon light from the west-setting sun pressed through the slats of the blinds. And the ottoman...The ottoman was awash in cat books (felines being daughter's long time obsession). My (paying) work for the day was nearly finished, and I had my babies with me (I'll still be calling them that when they have families of their own, I'm sure). In short, life was complete.

The three of us sat sprawled on the couch like a pile of puppies, and we just talked. Son asked if I'd ever experienced a natural disaster, like a hurricane or a tornado. I told him I hadn't been through either of those, but there was the '89 Loma Prieta quake, which I experience firsthand as a new employee at the Pacific Garden Mall in Santa Cruz, which was largely destroyed that day, twenty years ago this October. Then the conversation shifted to the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco, where my grandfather lived. He was just a boy right about the age my son is now, and my mother tells me that, shortly after the quake hit, he was running down the street carrying the precious family portrait, since each person basically had time to carry just one thing.

I know time isn't something you can carry in a literal sense. It's fleeting and resistant to any human effort to control it. But I'll tell you this: If time could be carried, if it could be removed from danger and taken elsewhere, that half hour on the couch today would be the kind of thing you'd see clutched in my arms as I ran toward safety.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

the reasons for vegas

I've discovered that there are many reasons to head for Vegas, which is ironic, considering the fact that I used to loathe the very thought of Sin City. The main reason for visiting seems to have to do with casting all cares aside and heading toward the showiest adult playground to be found anywhere (done that). Then, of course, there's the getting-married-by-Elvis-in-a-chapel-off-the-Strip reason (haven't done that, though I know people who did get married there (not by The King)). There's getting away with the girlfriends for a no holds barred weekend of lounging and dressing up and occasionally making a fool of one's self (I strongly resemble that remark). And then there are the family get-togethers (ditto). This time, I found myself focusing on the sights - specifically, the sights to be found behind glass in the bakeries and Gelato shops:


The artistry is intense, and the confections prove to be treats for all the senses, not just the tastebuds



When you stare up at the ceiling in the lobby of the Venetian, you feel like you're right smack dab in the middle of the Vatican, and the fact that the hotel was chock-full of Italians might attest to its authenticity. As a friend pointed out, though, it does seem a bit odd to travel to another country and seek out a hotel that is basically a replica of your homeland.


Over at the Bellagio, there is a fairly amazing Conservatory of Flowers that makes such a nice getaway from the hustle and bustle of the casino and shops (even if the miraculous concoction that is the Chocolate Nut Martini is located there in the Baccarat Bar). I also noticed that people start smiling these serene, joyous smiles as soon as they walk into the conservatory - and it's not an expression that's easy to find on the casino floor, where faces tend to look much more distracted and glazed over. There are flowers, butterflies and birds galore in the conservatory, including these lorakeets (I'm pretty sure that's what this is):




There's also a hypnotic, glass waterball. I want one in my sunroom.

And, did I mention that Gelato reigns as far as the eye can see?

Who knows what the reason for my next trip to Vegas will be. But this one was a fun getaway. And, as an Italian man sitting behind us on a bench as we all waited for our vehicles said (in Italian - my mom translated): "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

"Not for you it doesn't," answered his wife.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

English, not British


I had a blast at the Giles Carradine dressage clinic in Flagstaff yesterday, and then drove to Vegas immediately afterward with my mother, who's in town for a visit and hasn't seen this city in about twenty years. More pics of everything a bit later. Right now it's time to hit the Strip, Baby. Sephora, especially, which is one of those stores that always makes me wish I had tons of kwan to spend - but who does in this economy, right?

Monday, August 03, 2009

the reason for cheesecake

It just occurred to me that I pretty much stole the title of this post from Chitra Divakaruni, who wrote a book of poetry years ago called The Reason for Nasturtiums. But, I digress.

So, this really yummy-looking cherry cheesecake was taking up space in my fridge lately, and I didn't know what to do with it. The first people I thought about serving it to all have lactose intolerance to some degree or another, so they were out. I was hesitant to dive into it myself, since I doubted my ability to know when enough was enough. So, it just sat there.

Then, I was out with the weed whacker the other day, trying to clear at least some semblance of a three-foot zone around the house so that when all the boob-high weeds (the ones that were busy growing like Audrey II while we were in the Bay Area) dry out, the house won't go up in flames as soon as some rogue flash of lightning strikes.

It was going pretty well until I heard my cell phone ringing, turned off the whacker, and realized that I could hardly hold the phone because my arm was so exhausted. Sounds wimpy, I know, and maybe it is. But if you've never seen a Northern Arizona, boob-high weed ("like tree trunks" was how one friend put it), much less tried to whack one with a light weight edger, please don't judge my girly arms.

Apparently, a kindly neighbor couple decided to take pity on me, because the next thing I knew, the husband had wheeled over a big ol' push whacker (kind of like a lawn mower, but for mass weed slaughter instead) and was showing me how to fill the tank, pull the cord to start the thing and reinstall the line. I worried a little about putting the wear and tear on someone else's equipment, and the thing did pick up some stray wire and baling twine hiding in the brush...but it was AWEsome. I so totally need to get a push-along weed whacker.

The problem was, with all the moving boxes scattered hither and yon, I couldn't find my supply of trade soap - bars I use for trading out with folks who loan, give or help me with something. And these neighbors did not ask for or expect anything in return - that was made quite clear. Still, I like a fair trade. So, there I stood in my kitchen after rolling the whacker back over to their shop, thinking, "What can I trade?" I opened the fridge, and there it was: a perfectly lovely cherry cheesecake, saying, "Trade me!"

So, I did. And the looks on their faces when I handed it over were proof enough that it was a fair trade indeed.

Friday, July 31, 2009

so, I bought a house

...which is one of the reasons the blog went dark for a couple of eons this summer.
It's been one of those huge, life changing/life affirming/life imploding (in a good way) events into which I found myself diving head first back in May:
"I really think you should come check out this house a few miles west of here," said my realtor.
"But I don't want to move farther west," I told her. "If anything, I want to move farther east."
"It's a good deal, and it's only been on the market for a day."
"I don't know..."
"It's a horse property."
"When can we go look?"
So, we drove out to a little subdivision I've passed hundreds of times in the past decade - on my way to church, to the store, to the Grand Canyon. And there it was:
It's an old El Paso house, which means it was built for one of the EP workers (and maybe for his young family as well) back when the natural gas pipeline was going through. There are a few more of these in the neighborhood, and a guy who lives in one of them told me they were built extra sturdy so they could be moved, if need be...farther down the line, I suppose.
Inside, there are these old oak floors which, while in need of some TLC, might just be magnificent someday. That's my monstrous wood stove in the corner. I plan to use it as our primary source of winter heat, since propane is so dad-gummed expensive:
And there's a utility/laundry/workshop/sunroom, which may just be the thing that finally sold me on the place. It's already set up as a homework and soaping center. Updated pics to come:
These are my Red Hot Pokers out front. I'm still getting used to that term "mine." I mean, it could be argued that nothing is really "ours," that it's all God's - or that the Earth doesn't belong to us, we belong to the Earth, etc. But....oh, heck, You know what I mean. These are my flowers:
Here's the view out back. That's National Forest right across my fenceline, and I can't wait to head out there on Zzari while whistling Happy Trails:
Without a doubt, Independence day took on a whole new meaning this year:
I guess when it comes right down to it, I can probably sum up the whole experience in five words: It's good to be home.


I'm pretty sure Lizzie agrees:

Friday, July 24, 2009

shun the non-believer!

omg.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

a cool writer of impressive action

One of the things I love to do while I'm in the Bay Area is to attend readings by authors I wouldn't otherwise get to see. True, we've had some great writers visit Flagstaff, from Jan Brett and Lemony Snicket for the kids to Ron Carlson and T. Greenwood for the adults. But here in Northern California you almost can't walk down the street without having a famous author whack you in the head. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Last night I attended Dave Eggers' reading at a local indie bookstore. He read from his new non-fiction work Zeitoun, which is about the horrifying experiences of a Syrian man living in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. I've been an Eggers fan since his "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" and "You Shall Know Our Velocity" days, so it was a real treat to see him in person. (If you haven't read anything by him, I recommend running out and getting something today - especially AHWOSG, which, for me, was a fun awakening to some new, stylistic possibilities in writing). He seems like a very down-to-Earth person, too, and he clearly puts his money where his mouth is (profits from the books go to worthy causes like 826 Valencia and ongoing hurricane relief efforts).

This is the sort of thing I'm going to miss when it's time to head home in a couple days.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

face to face with the boy king

We headed into the City again on Monday - three generations of us - to see the current de Young Museum exhibit that's the talk of the town: Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs. It's being advertised everywhere, including down on Fisherman's Wharf, where this enormous statue of Anubis watches over all the tourists (it looks to me like he's trying to spear that seagull for lunch):
I was lucky to see this traveling exhibit 30 years ago (yipe!), when I was the same age my son is now. Then, I was inCREDibly lucky to actually see King Tut's tomb in person in the mid-80's, when my mother and I traveled to Egypt and some of the surrounding countries in what amounted to a completely life-altering trip. I got to ride a camel around the Valley of the Kings and actually descend into the tomb (which was surprisingly cold, given the searing desert temps outside). Ancient Egyptians knew the death business inside and out, that's for sure.
There is so much to see and do in San Francisco that it's sometimes a bit overwhelming. That's one the reasons I love Golden Gate Park so much. There, you can simply stop and smell the flowers:

One of the neat kids' activities on the de Young site is the "Flat Anubis." Those of you who have grade school-aged kids have probably had some sort of "Flat Stanley" experience; Well, the Flat Anubis is basically the same thing. My son wanted his FA pic taken in front of the Conservatory of Flowers.

The old, glorious de Young building was, sadly, torn down and replaced by what I consider to be an architectural abomination, but what do I know. It's nice inside, though, and they do have a cute lily pad pond out front.

No cameras were allowed inside, so I don't have any actual pictures of the items in the exhibit (which is nicely enhanced by some theatrical technology and brilliantly narrated by Omar Sharif, both as you enter and if you purchase the audio tour, which I definitely recommend). All in all, coming "face to face with the boy king" is well worth it, so if you're in the Bay Area (or if Tut is coming to your town), be sure to go. After all, your kids may be as old as you are now the next time it comes around.

Monday, July 20, 2009

angry beast: the city in pictures

A group of us headed over to the Academy of Sciences in San Francisco last week. It has just recently opened back up after a long re-building stretch, and the reviews are mixed.

There's a four-story rainforest there, full of butterflies. It's also home to little poison tree frogs that are almost close enough to lick. Note to anyone planning on visiting, though: get your Planetarium passes early. By the time we got there, all the passes were gone. I was especially impressed by the new and improved Steinhart Aquarium: The fishies and jellies are always a favorite:

Afterward, we headed down to the fish market section of the Wharf for lunch:


Behold the paragon of San Francisco cuisine - fresh, hot, crustilicious sourdough bread (Can you hear the angels singing? Can you?):


And the bowl of fresh clam chowder served in an edible sourdough bowl. I mean, seriously. Don't even get me started:

From there, it was short jaunt over to Pier 39 to check out the sights (I love playing tourist in my own town):



Adam and Steve as mermen...only in San Francisco:No visit to the Pier is complete without a pow wow with the sea lions. The fragrance is, in all ways, striking and unique.


We headed to a different part of the waterfront, where a bunch of the old Playland elements are on display. Playland was a turn-of-the-century amusement park on the beach in SF, and, let me tell you...Folks were TWISTED a hundred years ago. (Mommy? Looking at Jolly Jack gives me a bad feeling in the pit of my tummy...):
Anyone who saw the old Tom Hanks movie, Big, will no doubt remember Laughing Sal ("Terrifying Children for nearly a Century!").

"See Susie dance the Can-Can!" (Do we have to?)


"Here's a quarter, Timmy. Now, run along and play with the Opium Den like a good little boy..."


"Safety word...SAFETY WORD!!!"

Suffice it to say that one of these afterward would not have been a bad idea:

Friday, July 17, 2009

oldie/goodie

I like this song. I like that the video highlights the bridge I'll drive over this morning and the city through which I'll wander with the kids. Must remember to bring the camera.

Did I mention that a big group of us went out to Limantour beach/Point Reyes the other day, and we saw dolphins leaping in the waves just off shore while the kids were learning to body surf? It's so good to have this place to come back to now and then.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

back and breathless

A full two months has passed since I last blogged, so I figured it was time to roll up my sleeves, take a deep, cleansing breath and get back to it.

But have you ever noticed that, sometimes, just getting back to it can be a little terrifying? This is especially true - I've recently discovered - after major life changes come along and upheave (Is this even a word? Because if it is, I plan to drop it into as many casual conversations as possible) all the terra firma you once took for granted. In the past year I've lost people I never expected to lose, including, to some extent, myself. And you know that thing about how we're supposed to literally become different people every seven years (something about all the changes that happen on a cellular level)? Well, I feel like I've taken the summer session/accelerated path of becoming someone I never knew existed.

I couldn't begin to cover everything I've been up to for the past two months (much less in the last 12 months) in a single post, so I'll try to start small and keep it simple, beginning with what's been going on lately.

As was the case at this time last year, I'm back in the Bay Area, visiting all those sacred (to me) places from my childhood, running at the old high school track, skinny dipping in the old swimming pool, catching up on all the changes that have been taking place here while I've been away and visiting with some of the white-haired neighbors, a few in varying degrees of declining health, who I remember being - a long time ago - roughly the same age I am now.

I can feel how the sand has shifted every time I come back home now. It's scary, yes, but it's also exhilarating, like being a first-timer on a roller coaster that's picking up speed: You know there are thrills and spills in the immediate future, but you don't yet know if they're going to make you laugh, scream or come this close to woofing your cookies. So, whatever's waiting on the tracks up ahead, here's to raising our hands high in the air and settling in for the ride of our lives.