Rambling 101

Donkey Basketball

2010-04-01T12:47:00.001-07:00

I went and watched the donkey basketball last night. I had heard a bunch of bad stuff through Facebook where PETA was running a negative campaign against it saying how badly the donkeys were treated and implying horrific abuse. I like to see things for myself and make up my own mind. I thought as a representative of the Donkey Club if it was bad I could appeal directly to the owner and/or the school. I was fully prepared for a fight if need be.

The donkeys were very healthy an obviously well cared for. The guy running it was very sweet and kind to them. He monitored the whole game carefully and was on the court every minute the donkeys were. The “chasing and beating with a stick” written about by PETA was in fact, him following them on the court with a stick like a blind person uses tapping it on the floor behind a donkey if they decided they were not going to move. It did not scare or startle them. They are trained to move at that cue. The donkeys only wore halters so no one was jerking on their mouths. They all got water breaks and each had their own water bucket.

The kids were kind to them. I did not see anyone lose their temper and even remotely mistreat a donkey. I saw a lot of laughing and petting and hugs.

The donkeys were very well trained and looked to be having as good time as the kids. Ears forward. They wore rubber shoes so as not to slip and were very comfortable on the court with the exception of the donkey that didn’t like the red zone. He refused to go near it, which is where the basket is. He wasn’t upset about it, just wasn’t going to do it and if you know anything about donkeys…That’s his final answer. It was pretty funny. They put kids on him that were not going to be doing much anyway.

One donkey decided at the beginning that he did not want to be a part of the thing that night so he was taken outside and loaded back up right way. No pressure to play.

I was impressed. The guy had 10 donkeys there that would probably otherwise have gone to the meat auction or worse. They were happy with good donkey jobs and a good life.

They are loved and well cared for. I saw no abuse. A good time was had by all and the choir made some money.

ROCKS, ROCKS, ROCKS!

2010-03-16T10:19:00.000-07:00

Rocks, Rocks, Rocks!

I have always had a fascination with rocks. Especially BIG SQUARE rocks. Everywhere I go on vacations and the like…I take pictures of rocks (and squirrels and sheep and horses and donkeys)…

Recently, in a search of my ancestry I found out that I am from a line of quarry men. So far we have found five generations of quarriers who were also stone cutters and carvers.

The actual quarrying ended with my Great-Grandpa “Jack” John Livingston, but in fact, lives on in the hearts of my Grandfather and Father, as they have always been rock hounds. At 87 my grandfather teaches lapidary to people in his clubhouse where he lives.

When coming home from places I often hear in the customs inspection “Are those really rocks?” Yes, they are. I bring home suitcases full of rocks.

Below are some of the pictures I have taken in places around the world (in the last year) of rocks I found fascinating.

I have also included some fascinating use of rocks. Of course since I love castles, chateaus, cathedrals, tombstones and the like, all made out of giant stone, I have way too many to use here and I’ll save those for another day.

Bend, OR

Dunloe Gap, Ireland

Lyons, CO

Isle of Friol off the Coast of Marseille, France

Great things made from cool stone

Dingle, Ireland

Bricin Bridge, Killarney, Ireland

Steps at Powerscourt Gardens, Bray, Ireland

St. Jean Tower, Chateau Touffou, Bonnes, France

Keep, Chateau Touffou, Bonnes, France

Old house, Ring of Kerry, Ireland

Walkway, La Rochelle, France

Memorial off hidden path, Killarney, Ireland

Sandstone sidewalk, Lyons, CO

Trinity Church, Denver, CO

The Eclectic Architecture of Denver

2010-03-15T15:16:00.001-07:00

I had a spare day to myself last week in Denver. I had noticed in a few cab rides that the city boasted some interesting architecture so I set off on foot to investigate for myself.

I started off by getting a perspective from the hotel balcony. I could see a church in the distance that resembled a miniature Note Dame. I also saw something that might be a mosque that was made from sandstone. That was a good start.

Starting off from the Warwick hotel I went down the hill intending to go to The Brown Palace Hotel. Henry Brown built it after being denied entrance into the Windsor Hotel because he was dressed in cowboy attire. Before I got to the Brown Palace Hotel passed the mosque I’d spotted from the hotel. Up close it was not as impressive and also no longer a mosque. As I crossed the street I spotted a fabulous church with a very tall spire nestled up among the skyscrapers.

Trinity Methodist Episcopal Church. This beautiful church has many lovely details including a small rose window.

Nestled up against the back is a huge ugly yellow billboard that says “We sell ugly houses”.

From http://coloradohistory-oahp.org/programareas/shf/articles/2005/august.htm

“Formally dedicated on December 23, 1888, the Broadway building embodies the theological concept of the Holy Trinity. Architect Robert Roeschlaub applied the rule of three to all of the church’s character-defining elements. Three arches cap the Broadway entrance, the 183-foot corner spire is divided into three sections, and three intertwined circles decorate the ends of each pew.”

From Trinity I went catty corner across to The Brown Palace Hotel. It was not, as most people, including myself until now thought, built by “Molly Brown”. It was build by Henry Brown, who lost his fortune a couple times but went on to become one of the wealthiest man in Colorado. After being turned away from the Windsor Hotel, one of Denver's most elegant at the time, because he was dressed in cowboy attire, Henry Brown decided to build his own hotel and outdo the Windsor.

It too is now nestled low among the high modern buildings but they hold none of the charm. Across the street I saw a place called ‘The Navarre” which as it turned out was the local “Gentlemen’s Club” of the day. It is said there was a tunnel between The Brown Palace and the Navarre for the shyer folk.

From there I head off to the left and come across the miniature World Trade Center. Very interesting. Flags and all.

http://www.wtcdenver.com/history.html

"Metropolitan State College of Denver (Metro) had the foresight to acquire the license for a World Trade Center in Denver and agreed to transfer the license to a partnership of interested organizations. That founding partnership consisted of Metro; Brookfield Development (the building operator at the time); the Denver Metro Chamber of Commerce; the Colorado International Trade Office; and, the Rocky Mountain District Export Council. These five community leaders formed the Rocky Mountain World Trade Center Association, also known as the World Trade Center Denver."

"Almost 20 years later and 275 members strong, the WTC Denver continues to serve as a hub for the international community. In addition, the WTC Denver now houses the non-profit Rocky Mountain World Trade Center Institute - a leading international business skills training program. The WTC Denver maintains its status as a non-profit membership organization concentrating on raising awareness of Denver, and the Rocky Mountain Region as a whole, as an international competitor. Through networking events, seminars, roundtables, annual events and political awareness, the WTC Denver is actively involved in shaping the region's position within the global economy."

Next on my walk was the very cool gold topped building I had seen from many vantages. The Capital Building.

The The Capital Building was designed and constructed by Elijah E. Myers in the 1890s from Colorado white granite. It opened in November 1894. The stunning gold dome is made of real gold plate and the sun was shining on it just for me!. It was added in 1908 to commemorate the Colorado gold rush. I could not have asked for a more beautiful dramatic sky.

I got slightly sidetracked by the giant golden bellied begging squirrels in on the lawns. They came right up to you like puppies. I am glad I usually carry some nuts with me. I am easily amused by small furry creatures. It's also possible they are easily amused by me.

Turning around with my back to the Capital Building there was a stretch somewhat like the National Mall with a needle-like armed services memorial in the middle. On the other side was another formidable looking building. I never did find out what it was. It looked very official.

From there I shot a picture down the street of Trinity Church nestled in along the 16^th Street Mall. It amazes me.

My camera started telling me the battery was low. It was then that I realized that the charger was still plugged in at home and the spare was in my purse… In my closet…At home. Humph. Knowing I had already decided I was going to Lyons and would definitely need my camera, I got on the phone and located a charger at a camera store.

Realizing my light would run out and I still had some battery left I headed to the The Cathedral Basilica of the Immaculate Conception. My “Mini Notre Dame”.

You get much more of the "look" of Notre Dame when viewing from the hotel balcony. Up close it is too big to really capture.

http://www.denvercathedral.org/htmlpages/histofcathedral.htm The history is interesting. I did notice one of the founding contributors was J.J. Brown, “Molly Brown’s” husband.

I did not go inside and I might be sorry for that but my blood sugar was low and I needed food so I popped into the sushi place next door. From there I got a cab to go over to the camera store.

I saw a lot of other places where I would have liked to stop. There was a lot of use of low flat domes on buildings and in Cherry Hill there were some lovely old homes across form the Country Club.

I could have spent a lot more time in Denver and in the future I plan on doing so.

From here I got a shuttle to the airport so I could pick up my rental car. On the way out of town I saw my last great piece of architecture, done by the master. Sunset over The Rockies.

Was I driving while taking this picture? Yes, which along with talking on your cell phone, is not illegal in Colorado....yet. I was not, however doing both.

I love Colorado.

Lyons, Colorado: In the Footsteps Of Donald And Mary

2010-03-08T11:55:00.000-08:00

The continuation of “Finding Donald and Mary Livingston(e)”

http://gingerrambleson.blogspot.com/2010/03/finding-donald-and-mary-livingstone.html.

Waking up in the hometown of Donald and Mary Livingstone after coming in the night before in the dark, on this impulsive journey to find my family history, I was clueless as to what the town of Lyons, Colorado would look like. Since it was listed as my Great-Great Grandfather Donald’s home where he died, instead of returning home from a business trip to Denver, I rented a car from the Denver airport and drove to Lyons on a Friday night in March.

My view from my window Saturday morning showed a bright sunny day that still had that sharp deceptively cold glint to it. It was obviously a very small town.

My boss called at 7:00am and so I was awake way too early to start calling the on people who’s numbers I’d gotten the night before from Andrea the kind owner of Andrea’s Homestead Cafe, an authentic German restaurant in Lyons where I had lighted the night before and gleaned a wealth of information from Andrea and Randy over some single malt. I started a pot of coffee, provided in my ancient kitchenette, took a shower and started planning my day warming my hands around the old dappled cream ceramic mug.

I killed time until 8:30 and headed to Andrea’s for some ham & cheese crepes and eggs. Andrea got hung up at home and so I started calling the names on my list. Bill Boone, quarry owner, no answer, Mrs. Laverne (everyone called her Mrs. LaVern even though LaVern was her first name), no answer, another quarry owner, no answer. I finished my coffee and headed to the library.

Merlin, the librarian was an interesting person. She gathered all the quarry books she could find and we looked through the indexes for Livingston(e)s. None. Not a one in any book. I was starting to think I was definitely going to be on the evening flight home.

Sitting talking to Merlin about another possibility, the Carnegie Library in Boulder and the amazing local event of a mule giving birth on the mountain (mules are mostly sterile so this was quite and event and six months later was still being talked about all over town), I cracked open one of the quarry books and left it open on my lap. As we were talking, I glanced down at the open page to see “June 21, 1916 Donald Livingstone my Brother-in-law died in Lyons, Colo. Was taken to Denver for burial. Age 53 years. “ I shouted HOLY COW! I did not get shushed.

The page was towards the end of the Diary of James L. and Rosina Lowe. After reading a bit I knew several things. Mary’s maiden name was Lowe. I had wondered what drew them to Colorado and now I knew that they moved to Colorado because her family was there and working in a quarry. Donald and James owned or leased a quarry of their own but in those days $20 would get you a quarter acre of quarry land and you could “Own your own quarry”. You couldn’t make enough money from it to support a family so the quarrymen all in town worked for Murphy’s Quarry, a huge quarry to the north. The Murphy became the Brodie and the Brodie was owned by the Boone family. I needed to buy this book. “A history of the Lyons Sandstone Quarries by Alfred C. Pace”. Merlin called Al to see if we could speak but he didn’t answer. She said he works nights so I should try later.

I walked out of the library and headed to my little white rental car. I needed to know where that quarry was and where the cemetery was as according to Mr. Pace’s book James and Rosina Lowe were buried in the town cemetery. I spied a guy who looked local. I asked if he lived here and he said yes. I asked if he knew where the cemetery was. He said lived across the street from it in the pink house and pointed the way. We talked a little about my quest. He said I really needed to talk to Mrs. LaVern and pointed down the street “She lives a couple blocks down over there. Would you like me to walk you down and introduce you to her?” “Uhmmm… sure but she didn’t answer her phone this morning.” “We’ll go anyway.” Dan says, and off we went. He told me more about town history and how Mrs. LaVern single handedly won every battle she entered on the town’s behalf and you surely didn’t ever want to cross her. I had not planned too, so I felt okay. We rang her bell but she wasn’t home. “You know, her husband’s name was also Laverne.” He says as he trys knocking on the old wooden door. Interesting, a man named Laverne. Dan and I walked as far as the Post Office together talking about the town and parted ways with assurances that if I needed anything I would come knock on his door. I was instructed to go ask at the Barking Dog for the book. “Even though they are closed and moving if they have one they’ll get it for you.”

I walked back to my car parked in front of the library and found Andrea. We talked for a few minutes and she said if I didn’t find the book in town she would bring me hers tonight and she would buy a new one. I saw this black creature run on top of a rock pile. “Andrea, that is not a cat and not a skunk. It looks like a black squirrel.” I said. “Yes. We have black squirrels everywhere. They have tufted ears.” Cool, I really want to see one up close for a photo opportunity.I turns out black squirrels are extremely uncooperative in that area and I never did get a picture of them. (I borrowed this one.) Andrea and I parted with the understanding that I would come to dinner later.

I leave my car at the library and walk the one block north to the shopping district. I find the Barking Dog which is just an empty shell with nothing but a nice blue tile floor and two men sweeping. I am really hesitant to ask but I do anyway. One of the guys thinks for a minute and says he doesn’t have any left but if he did he would have sent someone to get one for me and suggests I go to the drug store across the street. Both men are genuinely nice and I thoroughly believed that he would have sent someone to his house to get me a $15 book had he had it.

I go to the drug store. It is approximately the size of my livingroom and I can tell in under two minutes they do not have the book. I was planning on going to the antique store across the street when the sight of a cute dog lures me over to a bench in front of the Red Canyon Gallery. The stuff in the windows of the Red Canyon lures me inside. I begin talking to Mary who owns the place, while deciding on a stunning handmade copper barrette of The Rockies as my official souvenir of Lyons. I tell her what my real goal is and she says ‘Oh I have those”. She does. She has ALL the books I am looking for and the town postcard I had seen but had yet to find for sale. Mary also tells me that Mrs. LaVern is living with her son at the moment because she broke her leg last summer and is still recovering. “Her husband was also named Laverne you know.” I know. We look up Mrs. LaVern’s son’s number in the phone book. Mary’s phone rings and she takes the call. I hear her say. “You know there is a lady in here right now looking for more information on her Great-Great Grandfather that is in Al’s book “ and hands me the phone. It’s the author of the other book on quarries and town history I have in my hand. I offer to call her back on my own phone and not tie up the shop phone and Mary says “Oh this is Lyons. No one cares, talk as long as you like.” Which we did. She gave me the number of several other people in town that would be useful, the number to the author of the other book I purchased and the coordinates to the cemetery plot where the Lowe’s were buried. I was starting to feel a little like Cinderella.

Since I now had book in hand and several more goals in mind, I went back to my car and called Mrs. LaVern’s son’s number. Mrs. LaVern answered. Mrs. LaVern had been a personal friend of Rosina Lowe and was very glad to speak with me.

We talked quite a bit about what I had already learned and she informed me that I had cousins in Nebraska and demanded my name, address and email so she could get me in touch with them. She was expecting company for the weekend so meeting would not be possible. We agreed to exchange what information we had and she gave me directions to Donald and Mary’s house.

I drove up 4^th street to the tiny cute little frame house that was yellow with white trim, my favorite. I took some pictures and then drove to the quarry.

To get to the Brodie quarry you drive through a residential area of newer homes and then up a dirt road. I came to the top where it leveled out to a flat area where there was a home, a large shop and a smaller shop. The gates that led to the quarry were open but peppered with “Private Property” signs. I was very reluctant to trespass. I parked my car and got out intending to go over to the house. A man came out from the smaller shop so I went over and told him who I was and what I was interested in and that I didn’t want to be disrespectful of someone’s property and enter without permission. He was a big booming old guy with eyeglasses that had the right lens frosted over like a modern version of an eye patch. He shook my hand and said he was Bill Boone. (YES!) I said I’d actually been trying to get in contact with him. His wife, Judy came over and introduced herself. She was a nice redheaded woman who looked like all my female cousins.

Bill said I was free to go wherever I wanted on the quarry. thus rewarding me for my good manners. We talked for quite bit about the history of the quarry, and how he and Judy met after they had both lost their spouses and that he was related to Daniel Boone.

He brought out some large photos of the quarry in full swing in 1900, many with the quarry men in them. I took pictures of the photos. We got to talking about the donkeys they used back then. He said he had a really good picture of the mammoth donkeys they used to haul stone and muck buckets back at his house. He and Judy were going to grab lunch and I said I would go look around the quarry and come back to the house in a bit to look at that picture so as not to disturb their meal.

I drove up and wandered around the quarry and took pictures of the giant slabs of stone sticking up against the snow dappled mountains and many other stunning scenes as well as the shell of the old blacksmith shop. I covered my nice city dress boots with quarry mud and felt gleefully at home. My rental car company is not going to be as please, I’m sure. At some point I realized that my fascination with large square rock formations that I’d taken pictures of all over the world, while my friends teased me about being a rock freak, was just a matter of genetics. I filled my pockets with quarry rocks.

With no one there and a fresh memories of the photos I’d seen of how it used to look full of men, donkeys and hammers it seemed I could hear the ringing on the stone of the “Plug & Feathers” and “Flat Wedges”. I waited to see the gin pole swing the muck bucket over the rim and return to load the giant slabs of red sandstone, bound for the sidewalks of New York, on the wagon.

I sadly disconnected myself from the quarry and went back down to the Boone’s home and left my muddy boots on the porch before going in. We ended up talking for three hours, about well, everything, but mostly horses and about the mule giving birth on the mountain

Bill has a new problem because the city people came and built some townhomes right up against the quarry and then filed complaints about the dust and noise of a working quarry. When they didn’t win that, they started in on him about his rooster. I told him he should get himself four or five donkeys. He said he liked the way I think. He really loved donkeys and are they really that loud? I demonstrated. He said he that was a fine idea and he really had to get him some donkeys. I suggested the BLM.

Bill has two grandchildren born on Sept.11. I have one grandchild born on Sept. 11. And as itturned out, when Bill was younger he lived in Grandpa Donald’s old house, the one on 4^thstreet.

The sun set over the snowy mountains out of the Boone’s livingroom window on a splendid afternoon. I promised to send some of the pictures that I’d taken in the quarry and we reluctantly parted. I really felt I had no more question to ask and that I had been treated by the whole town like a returning long lost family member.

I returned to my little room at the Aspen Leaf Motel and made some phone calls to catch people up on my progress before going walking down to Andrea’s for dinner. Sauerbraten, wine, single malt and conversation brought the day to an end.

I wandered back to my room and discovered my cell phone was missing, my personal phone, not my Blackberry or I would have had a much more worrisome approach. I realized it was not in my pocket when I put the rocks in at the quarry. My only two goals for Sunday were to buy a coffee mug at the Stone Cup and go to the cemetery, so I would have time to backtrack if need beand maybe find the phone. If not, then I’d left a little piece of me in Lyons. Fortunately a piece made out of potato plastic that would eventually disintegrate.

I woke at up 7:00AM to a cloudy gray day, the clouds were almost settled on the street, no mountains in sight. Kind of how I felt about leaving Lyons. I washed my muddy boots so I could put them in my suitcase, but left a small bit of mud in a place on one side of each boot, to hang on to it as long as possible. I packed myself, loaded my car and found my errant phone on the seat under some notes I had taken. I called and put my poor husband at ease that it had not been hijacked by black squirrels making international calls to their families Switzerland. I went down the hill, got checked out and had coffee with Sue, the motel owner and her little dog Pixel. We talked about the mule giving birth up on the mountain. She asked if I’d gotten a hold of Mrs. LaVern. “She and her husband are both named Laverne you know.” I know. I said my goodbyes and headed off on foot to the Stone Cup for my Lyons coffee mug.

The streets were almost totally deserted so I spent a fair amount of time standing out in the middle of them taking pictures. I think everyone who was awake was at the Stone Cup. I really like the mugs they served with rather than the newer design they were selling and of course they were happy to sell me one of those. I got my coffee and went back to take more pictures of the old Congregational Church, made completely out of sandstone from the quarry.

As I was coming up to the church a car pulled up and a lovely tiny white haired lady got out. She was obviously dressed for church so I told her how lovely the church was and she insisted I see the inside. I had plenty of time yet so I took her up on her offer. She introduced herself as Ruth. When we got inside there was another little old lady who was getting ready to warm up the organ. Ruth insisted that Ester (I am not making these names up) play a hymn for me so I could hear how lovely the organ was. It was truly lovely. She said even when money is at its worst they make sure the organ is tuned, as it has one of the sweetest sounds in all of Colorado. I agree.

When I get home I am going to send a donation for the organ tuning fund. It seems the least I can do for a town that has treated me so kindly.

I walked back to the Motel and picked up my car so I could drive to the cemetery. I was a little concerned I might have trouble finding the Lowes as I had been warned that the cemetery was “really big” and there were no coordinate markers for the coordinates I’d been given. “The kids would just take em down anyway.”.

I suppose considering the size of the town the cemetery was “really big” and the trees would have made it suitably creepy had it not been for the overall niceness of everyone I had meet. Realistically I could have covered the whole thing stone by stone in an hour. It only took me about five minutes to find the Lowes, really ten minutes because I got sidetracked chatting with a lady walking her two friendly dogs.

After finding the Lowes, I was enjoying the total silence of the cemetery with it’s view of Steamboat Mountain, completely absorbed in the ambiance when my phone start playing ‘Take This Job And Shove It” I jumped right out of my skin. That ring is reserved for my boss in deference to our relationship. Being as it was the boss, I answered the phone with all the respect I could muster yelling “YOU SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME.” I told him where I was and he said I should be happy someone living was calling me and really it was ghost Steve. He made ghostly noises. I almost missed him. We settled our business and I went back to taking pictures of the beautifully carved sandstone headstones. I also took one of the large beautiful marble stone that said ‘The Lavernes”. I felt odd doing that while one of them was still alive but it was just too funny to pass up.

My time in Lyons was drawing to a close. I went and had brunch at Andreas. We did the European double cheek kiss and promised to email. She said she knew I would be coming back. I know she is right.

I got in my car and drove to Denver. The clouds covered The Rockies as if to try to lessen the pain of leaving. I turned my car in at Enterprise. The girl at the counter said she grew up in Lyons. I told her all the people I met. She said “You know Mrs. LaVern’s husband’s name was Laverne too?” I know.

The shuttle driver picked up my little suitcase and said “Wow, what do you have in here?” I smiled and said “rocks.”

Finding Donald and Mary Livingston(e)

2010-03-05T22:29:00.000-08:00

What a day this has been...Since last fall I've been trying to find the location of my great-great grandparents, Donald and Mary Livingston(e) (The "e" comes and goes through out the years) Since my Grandpa is still alive and knew them and some of their history, this should have been fairly easy.

I can get records as far back as 1800 but 1920's? Nope. They dropped off the radar after the 1900 census, but Grandpa went to Grandma Mary's funeral in Golden, Co in the late 1920's. They gotta be somewhere.

For six months friends of mine who are very very good at this, and I search the internet. Soon we know this is only going to be solved by a trip to Colorado in person to the vital records office. Last week I found out I was going on a work related trip to Denver! BINGO! I packed up my records with my business suit.

I started out by going to the Office of Vital Records in Denver with all my paperwork. It’s a very ancient, industrial, beaurocratic looking place with workers behind glass that looks bullet proof and a lot of people waiting to get their medical marijuana cards or to get the one they lost replaced.

Every public employee I dealt with there was beyond nice. Nicer than nice… stunningly NICE. The man told me it might take a while. I was thinking “We’ll mail them to you” or “Come back tomorrow” when he said. “It could be as long as 45 minutes” WOW. Okay. I brought both a laptop and a good book. It was over an hour. We had some trouble with Mary. They searched diligently and gave me the records they could find, which were enough to direct me to Crown Hill Cemetery on the other side of Denver. I called them and made sure my people were truly buried there (I still had no info on Mary but they assured me there was a Mary Livingstone buried next to Donald and we agreed it would be an ironic coincidence were it not his wife), before I took, what turned out to be, an $80 cab ride, (I should have rented the car before then….) across town.

We got there and the place was HUGE. The reason I had not found Donald and Mary before is it’s vastness and contents have not been cataloged for the Internet as of yet.

As a side note the day I got to Denver it was HOT. I brought only sweaters and so I bought a short sleeved shirt to wear. This morning it looked nice when I started out and so there I was in my short sleeve shirt as it starts to snow.

We (me and my 65+yr old Ukrainian taxi driver) go to the cemetery and they give me a map with an “X marks the spot” and off we go. I am happy and excited and trying not to be overly jubilant in the office as it is also a funeral home and people are mulling around for a funeral looking suitably sad. I see a man in a kilt and realize he's part of the funeral party so refrain from pouncing on him and asking questions.

Off we go to section 33 with my yellow highlighted section with the prominent “X” I spend a good 30 minutes searching with no luck. You would think certainly with a map and an “X” it would not take so long to find two people who have not moved in almost 100 years, my good sport taxi driver gets out and starts helping. (Yes he got a great tip) I finally call the office and explain that if they don’t give me a little more info me and my short sleeve shirt are going to be joining the rest of the clients out here shortly. We go back to the office and look at a big BIG map of plots. Then back to section 33. Now I am starting to get worried that I am lucky enough that they are going to be in that one part still covered in SNOW. I am headed back to the cab and……THERE THEY ARE!.....and the Livingston “E” is back in the picture., along with a Freemasons insignia! <----exclamation because this can be more helpful in obtaining info.

I take some pictures and start to load my frozen self back in the taxi. The funeral starts in the next section and the kilted man begins to play the bagpipes. I stand in the cold a little longer.

I found my people.

On Donald’s death certificate it says occupation “Quarry Worker” Location of death “Lyons, Co.” My intention is, since I am already in the state and can eek out two more days if need be, to find out more on the missing quarry info. I cancel my flight, rent a car and drive to Lyons.

The sunset over the crazily cloudy rockies is spectacular. I pull over to take pictures because trying to take them while driving is causing people to look oddly at me.

Lyons from what I have seen, so far, in the dark, is a little town. A very little town. I decided to look for the oldest homiest restaurant/bar in town and find me some long time locals to question. I get into town and see some jam packed Western bars and then I see “Andrea’s Homestead Cooking”, fits my criteria pretty well so in I go. Lots of wood and dead animals on the walls. There's a Scottish Highland cow in the entry. I take it as a sign. A dapper looking gentleman asks if I will be dining “alfresco” and whispers ‘That means alone.” I said I would be and he asked if I would like a table by the fireplace. I look at the tiny little bar with an older lady sitting at the end doing paperwork and said “If you have single malt I’ll sit at the bar and eat” (Greg and Joyce, you trained me well in one night!) The man’s eyebrows went up and he smiled, woman’s head popped up and she smiled and said “A scotch drinker, well, come over!

I was introduced to Balvenie Single Malt. Nice. The woman was Andrea and the restaurant authentic, fantastic, German food. I had veal brats, homemade kraut and German potatoes. (Goes dang fine with Balvenie and I am also sleeping alone tonight so no harm, no foul.) while Andrea broke out her rolodex and made a list on a napkin of the people in town I needed to talk to, to sort out the quarry mystery. Two quarry owners, the town historian and an ancient stone carver.

At present I am in my tiny 1940’s motel room, owned by Sue, where I was sent by Andrea to stay until morning when I am directed to return for breakfast to Andrea’s so we can then “Get on with these people.”

I feel lucky (blessed)

Cassie's Short Story On Why She Doesn't Write

2009-08-02T18:38:00.000-07:00

This was too funny not to share.... Ginger

Not A Writer by Cassie Sanders

   I want to write. I said to myself. So I sat down, opened my laptop and proceeded to stare at the screen. What should I write? I wondered. I like science fiction so maybe I should write a story in that genre. Okay we’ve made progress.

For some reason the blinking cursor doesn’t agree with me.

Next step, stories need to have a purpose. Okay we can do purpose lets see, I was thinking the other day that planets usually have seasons but what if there are two suns and then it wouldn’t really have four seasons like we have here on earth.

The cursor continues to blink...

Okay, this is good we have material. Lets write a story about someone trapped on a planet that he knows nothing about and he’s trying to figure out what the seasons or weather is going to be like. Well how much knowledge can we reasonably assume that he has. Can he figure out from the hair coat of the animals how bad winter will be? Or maybe the flow of the land and how the water has eroded the river bank, assuming of course there are rivers. How much does the average person actually know about the small things in life, I wondered?

The cursor continues to blink...

Well maybe he knows a few things, but will people believe that this one guy just happens to know how to do all the things he needs to live? I mean take for example, fire. Does it really work like they say, twirl sticks together? I’ve read enough books to know that it probably isn’t that simple but do most people know that or is it just me that knows so therefore the average person who doesn’t read as much wouldn’t know that. Am I really going to have to go outside and get two sticks and see if I can make a fire before I can write about him making a fire based on the same principles?
Well maybe not, I mean I wouldn’t try that first, first I would bang rocks together to see if I could get something to spark.

The cursor continues blinking.

I wonder how candles are made? I mean what is he going to do with the fire once he makes it. Wait a moment, do I even really know how wax is made? No, okay, let’s start there, research is good. Open Google and see how wax is made, maybe most normal people know this and I can use that.
Okay, Wax, three kinds. There is no way the guy is going to be able to refine petroleum into wax, scratch one. Bees make wax too but what if there aren’t any bees? Plus bees are dangerous, scratch two. Oh, look at this, you can make wax from plants that have waxy leaves. All you have to do is boil the plants in water and skim the wax off the top.
Which brings us back to the original problem of needing fire to boil the plants. There is no way this guy is going to know how to make wax, besides it probably isn’t high on the priority list.

I have a revelation...

You know, if I’m making this up I suppose I could just make a wax tree and that would solve the problem. And what about a fire tree, little miss smarty? I smirked to myself.

The page is still empty, I have learned how to make wax and we all now know why I’m not a writer...

Hair Tasting Event

2009-06-24T12:54:00.000-07:00

Hair Tasting Event- I bet that got your attention! What? You say. Why would I go to a hair tasting event? GROSS. Like the genetically modified food snuck into your system without your knowledge, mostly oils that have been in the food system since the early 1990’s (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genetically_modified_food) but that’s another story (blog)…there’s also a good chance you are also consuming a fair amount of human hair in the form of L-Cysteine. L-Cysteine can be made out of feathers, hooves or……. human hair.

So who doesn’t squirm a little when they find foreign hair in their food.. Especially ones shaped like…uh huh. You know…..

Human hair has become a booming industry for several uses. The newest being the gardening industry. http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,320571,00.html

But back to… IN MY PIZZA….. bagels, croissants etc.

I tell you, when I first read all of this and did some follow-up I swore off commercial pizza and bought only pizza from the local place I knew made their dough themselves from whole wheat flour. (White flour usually contains the additive L-Cysteine which is sourced from animal hair feather and sometimes human hair. To avoid human hair in your bread - buy “Whole meal” instead.)That lasted until I could not get past the craving for a Stuffed-Crust from Pizza Hut. I still think about it a lot before I order a pizza and sometimes I just can’t stomach it.

The whole “Soy Sauce from human hair & condums” thing really grossed me out. That I am very careful about. OH ICK…ICK..ICK.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Food_safety_in_China#Soy_sauce_made_from_human_hair

Stories began circulating in the press about cheap soy sauces made from human hair. These sauces were manufactured in China using a chemical amino acid extraction process similar to artificially hydrolyzed soy sauces and then quietly exported to other countries. An investigative report that aired on Chinese television exposed the unsanitary and potentially contaminated sources of the hair:

“
When asking how the amino acid syrup (or powder) was generated, the manufacturer replied that the powder was generated from human hair. Because the human hair was gathered from salon, barbershop and hospitals around the country, it was unhygienic and mixed with condom, used hospital cottons, used menstrual cycle pad, used syringe, etc.[57]”
In response, the Chinese government banned production of soy sauces made from hair. Other carcinogens remain, see 3-MCPD.

Seriously?
I think I’d rather take my chances with the cat poop coffee.

Butterflies Of Spring

2009-06-23T12:36:00.000-07:00

On the first official day of summer spring arrived and with it BUTTERLFIES! (and a bumble bee).

The flowers were in full color.

They fluttered in packs. Tumbling around like puppies, they flitted through the flowers and tasted until it almost seemed they wouldn’t be able to fly. Fortunately they were so sated they were still enough to allow me lots of camera time.

Ginger

In Honor of Grandma

2009-06-19T15:09:00.001-07:00

I love my Grandma.

Grandma Mert is 84 today. I can tell everyone that because Grandma would. She has bragging rights. She is proud of her years and happy to have gotten his far.

At 47 not many people I know can say they have a grandma. I have two and a grandpa as well. It is one of my greatest blessings.

I make it a point to ask them as many questions about the past as often as I can. Really, I have living WWII memories I can access and family history at the other end of my cell phone. I try not to take it for granted.

My grandpa’s mother, who I had in my life until I was in my thirties came across country in a covered wagon. Today we wished Grandma Happy Birthday on Facebook and MySpace. Within minutes of posting it my daughter called me from France to make sure she had a number to call Grandma at before she (daughter) went to sleep, as it was almost midnight there.

I have learned a lot about myself in learning about my Grandmothers. Both are strong independent ladies who had their own lives and businesses when most women did not, but still maintained a happy household for their families and extended families. There were many dinners at Grandparents houses. More at Grandma Mert’s because she was a lot closer. At the time I didn’t realize that it was probably in part because we needed family help to get fed. I just thought grandma needed someone to pawn the “Teriyaki Cutlets” (Otherwise known as LIVER) and the over abundance of what I called “pepper salad” off on.

In the last few years I figured out where I got my strange sense of humor, quiet strength and tendency to take in strays (people and pets) from as well. We lived in a little town that was very white middle class but never was a prejudice word uttered and I know there was a gentleman who was adored by the family who now that I look back I am sure everyone knew was gay. We were respectful of people or we were in danger of a wholloping. Yep. Kids got spanked in our family and we came out just fine.

Both of my parents worked. My brother didn’t come along until I was almost 8 so I spent a fair amount of time at Grandma’s. She had a big yard you could summersault on, a little fish pond that had tadpoles in it, one a BIG one, that I could fish for with a saucepan and a tea strainer as long as everyone was returned to their habitat at the end; and an avocado tree out front that had AVOCADOS (They made the pepper salad tolerable).....

There were Reader’s Digest Condensed books in the spare bedroom and an ancient sewing machine. Plenty to entertain a child. The best was the costume trunk in the attic. Not only did it have a harem girl costume in it…. IT WAS IN THE ATTIC!

Grandma had a dog, two in my lifetime, both beagles and both lived to be well over 100 in dog years. There were cats too. I only remember Flip and Flop. Both gray and I think related, possibly brothers. Grandpa loved birds and later in life they had several. One at a time.

We went hiking and camping. Grandma taught me to be tough. Never admit you need a ride if you broke your ankle on the mountain trail. Tough it out and hike the 7 miles. Grandpa didn’t agree. Neither did Uncle Mike. We collected watercress and I learned the wonder of hot bacon dressing. My grandparents practiced good environmentalism long before it was popular. Then it was called respecting property and doing the right thing.

We treasure family. All the girls got together and made Chess Pies at Christmas. We had a large family and the elders were treasured and cared for physically and financially if needed. There was a divorce and remarriage of Grandma’s parents. I didn’t know until I was in 9 when I met Grandpa Cook, that Grandpa Connahan was not a blood relative. He was loved and treated as a beloved parent.

One of the other great things I learned from my grandparents was a healthy view of sex among loving married adults. (Married to each other). Everyone in our family knew that they had a healthy sex life way into their later years. (Don’t get me wrong, we didn’t SEE it or anything.) We just knew it was part of their love for each other.

This summer Grandma will have been without Grandpa (I can't say alone because she has always been such a good freind to people that she is reaping what she sewed in that department) and after being married since her teens has learned to live single in her little cabin in the desert with the birds and bunnies. She plays Bingo, takes care of the "Old Ladies" that live around her and has a crush on Dr. Phil.

Today she is hanging out with her older sister at her (sister's) cabin in the mountains!

So, Happy 84th grandma. Have a great day and let’s do this again next year!

Take Me To Paris

2009-05-21T16:49:00.000-07:00

Here we are again in France, inspired by a shirt I purchased Monday night. I live out of a suitcase so was quite dismayed to realize that my winter clothes were still predominant in the suitcase but the weather had crept around to summer where I was going to be the whole week and I needed some clothes. This meant a trip to the mall.

My daughter is now with me in this crazy transient work life and we were excited to find an actual mall. One with stores….indoors…. She went off to Claire’s to find some earrings and I went to Christopher & Banks with very good intentions of perusing the bargain rack. Really, they were good intentions. All was going well until I got a phone call for work that caused me to stray to another part of the store for privacy and next to the $40 not really t-shirts but sort of…..

There is was……
Bright colors, French scenes and the words “Take me to Paris” on the front. My need for clothes quickly dropped to one shirt. THAT ONE.

Anyone who has been to Paris knows what I mean. Forget what you have heard about rude people etc. For the most part the only rude people I met were other foreigners. Not Parisians. As long as I tried to speak French and was polite happy people treated me well. It was everything the movies and Disneyland made it out to be and the dogs were delightful and everywhere, funny enough, not many French poodles. I saw quite a few beagles, and larger hunting dogs. All pampered and well loved.

Every once in a while my daughter calls me when she and her friends are picnicking at the Eiffel Tower. It is so fun. You sit on this big lawn behind it and drink wine out of a bottle (or pudding cups but that’s another story), call you friends and tell passing bums “No I don’t have any cigarettes”. Then you wait for the tower to light up and sparkle, which it does on the hour for 5 minutes. Everyone says “OHHHHHHHH”. If it starts to rain it will probably stop and you won’t melt. Drink more wine.

I like Paris best right after it rains. The streets are wet and it looks like all the paintings. The rain glimmering off of trees, cobblestones, decorative iron railings and street lamps, truly magical.

I would love to spend part of today sitting on the steps of Sacre Coeur listening to random people play music and looking over the pastel city. Spend some time wandering through Montmartre looking at all the artwork of the locals, have an espresso or two and make some art of my own with some snaps of my shutter.

I would get to Notre Dame just at twilight. Take some pictures of the river and then get some of the rarified air and sense of peace in the cathedral before heading off for a little bit of dinner and shopping in the Latin Quarter.

Time to hop the metro to get back to my little place, grab a nutella banana crepe from the cart warm in my hands and think about tomorrow….cafe (coffee) at the Café and lunch at Pere Lachaise

Please. Take me to Paris.

Pangur Ban (White Cat)

2009-04-07T12:58:00.000-07:00

Pangur Ban also known as "The Monk and his Cat", is one of my all time favorite poems. I first saw it at the Book Of Kells Exhibit while visiting Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland. http://www.tcd.ie/Library/ It is a 9th century poem written by an Irish monk in St. Gallen, Switzerland or possibly in Austria, that is up for debate. No one knows his name but every poet knows his cat!

I have always been able to imagine the Monk who wrote it sitting by candle light writing with a feather quill while a little cat playing at his feet. In the exhibit it is written on a huge panel in a spiral which makes for fun reading.

Ban=white Pangur=kitty
***************************************

I and Pangur Ban, my cat,

‘Tis a like task we are at;

Hunting mice is his delight,

Hunting words I sit all night.

Better far than praise of men

‘Tis to sit with book and pen;

Pangur bears me no ill will;

He, too, plies his simple skill.

‘Tis a merry thing to see

At our task how glad are we,

When at home we sit and find

Entertainment to our mind.

Oftentimes a mouse will stray

Into the hero Pangur’s way;

Oftentimes my keen thought set

Takes a meaning in its net.

‘Gainst the wall he sets his eye

Full and fierce and sharp and sly;

‘Gainst the wall of knowledge I

All my little wisdom try.

When a mouse darts from its den.

O how glad is Pangur then!

O what gladness do I prove

When I solve the doubts I love!

So in peace our tasks we ply,

Pangur Ban, my cat and I;

In our arts we find our bliss,

I have mine, and he has his.

Practice every day has made

Pangur perfect in his trade ;

I get wisdom day and night,

Turning Darkness into light.’

**********************************
In the course of researching I also found this version or possibly a different poem all together..

**********************************

Pangur, white Pangur,

How happy we areAlone together,

Scholar and cat.

Each has his own work to do daily;

For you it is hunting, for me study.

Your shining eye watches the wall;

my feeble eye is fixed on a book.

You rejoice when your claws entrap a mouse;

I rejoice when my mind fathoms a problem.

Pleased with his own art

Neither hinders the other;

Thus we live everwithout tedium and envy.

Pangur, white Pangur,

How happy we areAlone together,

Scholar and cat.

anonymous Irish text, tr. W.H. Auden

What Happens When The Food Runs Out?....Taking Stock of What You Have

2009-04-01T15:01:00.000-07:00

OK. I’m sure you’ve heard alarmist shouting about the end of the world before and that is not my intent here. Just rambling on……..the little mind boat is just floating down the canal….hop on.

Last weekend I was in Dallas for the AFI Film Festival and saw “Houston We Have A Problem”, produced by Nicole Torre. First, I will say it was an excellent documentary about the oil industry and the new wildcatters of renewable energy and that left me asking a lot of questions which I am sure was the point.

http://filmguide.afidallas.com/tixSYS/2009/filmguide/title.php/detail/?AlphaRange=HH&ShowShorts=Y&ShowPast=Y&

I took a lot away from it but right now I want to focus on one thing that it brought up. I am not quoting and am adding my own processing to what I heard.

If the Middle East and Venezuela (who are buddies so this is not too far fetched) got together and decided to cut off the oil supply to the U.S. what would happen would be that we would shortly run out of gas. Which equals we would run out of diesel and then there would be a 5-10 day window before we ran out of food. OH BOY…. I get it. No diesel… no truck delivering to Costco, Safeway, Walmart etc.

That brings up the question……What Happens When The Food Runs Out? Are any of us prepared for that? Well.. OK besides the Mormon church? (Which I don't happen to be a member of so I'm on my own...)

Mentally checking our resources…..

We have… flowers, tomatoes, cucumbers, brussel sprouts, herbs, chickens, goats & donkeys. Oh and an apple, pear & cherry trees (as long as nothing happens until next year as the fruit trees are not bearing yet.)

The chickens will provide eggs and meat (I have a rooster among my hens).

The donkeys “horse power for planting…with some training and flowers for bribes…the goats could provide milk, meat & cheese but there would some collaboration work to be done there as my male is wethered (fixed)……I know how to make soap including the lye itself from scratch and funny enough I know how to make glass from scratch. (I suppose that would come in handy somehow later..) and we have enough firepower to protect the above. Now to the flora….

I started growing stuff this year for fun and because I am obsessive about one thing at a time and now it’s flowers and tomatoes. How would that really help me? I think even the flowers I am growing other than the Johnny Jump Ups are not edible flowers. (Really there are a lot of edible flowers like Pansies & stuff.. They look great in a salad.) and we don’t want to live on tomatoes. What can I do that requires only a little change on my part to make sure we have food if it really comes to it?

I think I’d start by planting potatoes in tires. I have tires. This can be done in a suburban back yard. Here is a great article (scroll down to it) on growing potatoes in tires and well, they’re potatoes. I can live on potatoes and tomatoes and the other stuff listed above.
http://www.kiddiegardens.com/growing_potatoes_in_tires.html

The other thing I would add to my plant inventory would be sunflowers. BIG sunflowers. The ones that have lots of seeds. They are pretty, easy to grow, grow FAST and provide food. Nuts! Nuts are a great source of food with oil. With nuts you can also lure squirrels....and make ...pie? Not sure on that one but I'm sure I could find out.

And I just figured out the use for all these pretty flowers. They attract deer! Then you don't have to worry about that squirrel pie recipe.

(isn't this deer just looking guilty of eating flowers?)

So this is my personal inventory of what our family could do on short notice with a very small amount of change.

The real solution of course would be to make more and more changes in our energy usage to not exactly quote Nicole Torre because I am not sure of the exactness, just the point well taken….“Conservation is the biggest drilling field we have”.

The Coast of Marseille

2009-03-25T11:12:00.000-07:00

“I sat there on the coast of Marseille
My thoughts came down like wind through my hands.
How good it’d be to see you again.
How good it’d be to feel that way again ”

Jimmy Buffett said it best. The coast of Marseille is a magical place that never leaves you even after you leave it. My laptop has two desktops (One Mac & One Windows) both have pictures of the coast of Marseille. Everyday I dream of going back.

My daughter and I arrived there in the story weather, the last days of October. We saw a the sun just poking it’s firey sunset out under the gray clouds on the horizon as we rose up out of the Metro the night we arrived and saw bit of blue sky for a few minutes one day out to sea. Other than that it was a dark and stormy time full of adventure and mystery.

We got there on a Thursday night and after finding our hotel in a somewhat shady part of town, across from the Armourie (gun store) we got settled and walked back to the Vieux Port (Harbor) .

Marseille, being a port town on the Mediterranean was not like any other part of France I had visited. Known as “The Cutthroat of France” it is a rough and tumble town that is also a seductress of light and energy.

The port is a horseshoe, lively at all times with gaily lit restaurants specializing in bouillabaisse and the catch of the day. Most restaurants have a “Prix Fixe” menu, which means fixed price. You have several choices in each category to make up a dinner. An appetizer, entre and dessert. There are usually several price levels and the higher the price the better the choices. They’re usually a screaming deal but they make it up with the wine. You can’t get wine by the glass. Have to buy the whole bottle and it is usually about twice as much as the whole meal. I ordered something that I thought was bouillabaisse and realized after the waiter left that it might be something cooked in bouillabaisse. So I got to say the first of the three things you don’t want to find yourself saying in Marseille. ‘I have no idea what I just ordered.” Out came a large fish. The whole fish. Cooked in ..yep..bouillabaisse broth. It was intimidating with it’s bulgy eyes but really quite yummy…and boney.

We got in pretty late so after a stroll and dinner we made our way back to the hotel and went to bed. Somewhere around 3:30am we kept hearing this SOUND and a scrambling kind of ruckus. Finally I realized it was not my daughter’s errant alarm clock that went off at random times during our trip. I got to say the second thing you don’t’ want to be saying in Marseille. “Is that the FIRE ALARM?” It was the was!…It turned out the night clerk was trying to sneak a smoke and set off the alarm. After that adventured quieted, we got settled back in and back to sleep. About 7:00am the HORRIBLE noise started. CRASHING and well, it sounded like the building 10ft away was being torn down. It was. They were throwing large windows out the 7th story to the ground right next to us. Time to get up.

A rainy day in a port town is still lovely and smells like ocean. Wandering back down to the port we found a café on the water with a typical French breakfast, chocolate croissant, juice and coffee. Of course the chocolate croissant fell from heaven onto my plate.

Marseille is a hill town where everything eventually migrates down to the water. There are these cool little tourist trains that go all around town and hit the highlights. They also give you a great idea of what you want to go back and see. One goes uphill to Notre Dame Du Guard, the cathedral on the hill with the giant golden Mary on top (Every major city in France has one. Some holding the baby and some not.) and a spectacular 360 degree view of the city below.

The other train goes around the old town and the port. In the old town there is a basilica (there can only be one cathedral in every town) nicknamed ‘The Pajama” because it is made with brown and white stone and it is HUGE and obnoxiously stripped. Butted up against it is the ancient (time?) church where Catherine of Medici and Henry the? Were married.. It is in serious decline and is being propped up on most fronts. It is very plain but for it’s history, holds a mystery of it’s own. In it’s time it had to be the best there was to offer.

By the time we got to Marseille we were well versed in all forms of public transportation so we walked where we wanted to and got on and off trams, city buses, tourist trains and even took a boat.

We fell in love with Longchamps (pictures). The gift to Napoleon and Josphine is wondrous, it’s placement is strange. Located in a common are of the city you don’t even see it as you go towards it on the tram. You pass by average shops, some kind of industrial and then after you get off the tram and walk to the front, THERE IT IS. It’s STUNNING. Once you pass the sign that says “Please don’t fish or swim in the fountains.” (in French) and walk up the sweeping entrance, you feel like you have fallen down the rabbit hole into a different time. You expect to see the Lords and Ladies of Court sweep along the corridors on their way to dance. We went once at night and once during the day. During the day the time warp effect is more muted by the kids playing soccer in the courtyard.

Our next stop was dinner, again in what I call the restaurant district, which is lively and cheery and well priced due to massive completion. This time I did get the bulliabase. It was everything I expected and nothing was staring at me. Our next stop was the Irish pub. Irish pubs are very popular in France. This one was mostly populated by people of many nationalities who’s primary language was English. It was a rowdy, fun crowd. We stayed for a bit and then headed back to our hotel. On the way I said the third thing that caused us to do something you should not do, especially two American women alone with shopping bags in Marseille. I said.”Look up that street that looks like fun.” And we headed up, into what turned out to be the late night party area for middle eastern men who own the fish markets…… We realized pretty quickly that we were where we didn’t belong and everywhere we turned seemed to get us deeper into the mix. Finally I saw something I recognized. The GUN SHOP! We were near our hotel. WHEW. I got a thorough tongue lashing from my French friends. We retired to a peaceful night.

Our last day in Marseille was also my last full day in France as we were taking the train that night back to Paris and I would be out on the plane in the morning. It was also All Saint’s Day, a National holiday. All museums etc CLOSED. We decided the day before we would take the boat trip along the coast for the day. When we got to the port we wlked among the daily fish and flower market where the locals all shopped. It was exciting. The weather was very bad and the boat trip along the coast was not running but there was a boat that went out to the island of Friol. We took it. After the hustle and fast pace of the whole trip it was so very peaceful. Windy, but special. There was nothing much open on the island so we just walked around. We found a beautiful cove and collected seashells and beach glass. There was a lone man walking along with a baguette under his arm and a dog following behind him as he threw scraps of bread to him. The dog danced for bread. It was adorable and so very French. We took our boat back, retrieved our luggage and got on the TVG to Paris.

“When I left the coast of Marseille.
I hadn’t done what I’d come to do.
Spent all the money I saved.
And I still did not get over you.
No I still did not get over you.”

Thanks Jimmy. I get it now. I haven’t gotten over Marseille either. I wish I could close my eyes and when this plane landed I would be in France. I’m afraid though, it will be Portland.

I Want A Duck

2009-03-12T17:38:00.000-07:00

I want a duck. I love ducks.

It’s chick & duck season.. all my friends at http://www.davesgarden.com/ are getting baby ducks…..

I work out of town a lot. Maybe I could have a baby duck in a little tub on my desk? Some people have fish in a globe, sorta the same thing isn’t it? Well, maybe except for the wet duckie footprints on my keyboard. I WANT A DUCK!!!!!

Maybe I would get two baby ducks so they could play with each other. The only thing cuter than a baby duck is TWO baby ducks.

If I had a baby duck I think I would get a Swedish Blue. They are very cute… see.

And pretty handsome as adults.

I really want a wood duck. They are much smaller and very colorful. Once at the fair there was a wood duck in a cage swimming in a roaster. He looked very happy. I wanted to yell RUN WHILE YOU CAN BEFORE THE WATER HEATS UP!!!!

There are currently 49 genera recognized within the family, of which 18 are so far listed below. There is some disagreement concerning exactly how many species are contained within the Anatidae family. Conservative estimates put the number at 147. Due to recent taxonomic splits, with undoubtedly more to follow, there may be as many as 164 species. Some authorities suggest the Magpie Goose should be placed in its own family, Anseranatidae.
http://www.artfullbirds.com/Ducks%20Geese%20and%20Swans.html

I have no idea what that says except I think they don’t really know but they can shuffle some around.

Still, I might want to rethink this and being a good proponent of proper animal care settle on one little plastic rubber duckie……in a bowl…with a plant.

….and be happy one of my new friends offered to name a wood duck after me. I hope I get daily duckling updates on my namesake.

*snif* I want a duck.

Dave’s Garden-Welcome Home

2009-03-10T13:37:00.000-07:00

I got the planting bug…again.

Usually this inspires fear in the heart of plants everywhere and my husband who mans the finances …because I’m not good at it….but I never give up.

This year I have no kids at home and minimal livestock to care for. Really almost none since my husband does the caring while I work out of town. (Hey, these days if the job pays well, out of town is fine.)

So……incoming…..by the bucket. (pictures)

Dahlias, been a favorite of mine since Great-Grandpa had them.
Johnny Jump-Ups, Mom’s favorite. Must be genetic.

Daylilies, daffodils, crocus, hyacinth, coneflowers, iris, sunflowers, tomatoes, herbs, etc.. You get the picture. If it grows and it’s legal I want some…..

Last year I was stuck on trees. Planted a 4 in 1 apple (Bob) and a Vanderswolf Pyramid Pine (Charlie)..Yep. I name the trees.

Now on to Dave’s Garden. http://www.davesgarden.com/

This time I am engaging help. A whole online community of gardening people who look like they’ve had some success! I love it when I sign on it says “Welcome Home Beadmom” (That’s me.)

This home has lots of flowers and lots of friendly people. Right away I was greeted by people and offered free seeds. Free is my favorite!

Originally I signed up for the free section but quickly realized I wanted to subscribe. $19.9? a year. Call it $20. In one day it was worth the price. I learned how to plant $40 worth of Dahlia tubers without killing them all which I surely would have done! Kind people check to see if I have a designated watering person while I am out of town. I tell them I do and if he fails in that job I'll hide his Girl Scout cookies. They deemed that a suitable threat.

There are tons of forums (discussion boards), blogs, flower, bird & bug data bases, journaling, photos etc. There is a rating of companies so you know before you buy how good they are and much, much more.

I am currently involved in 11 boards. Photos, Pacific Northwest Gardening, Books, Movies & TV, Beginner Flowers, Farm Life, Beginner Gardening Questions, Dahlias, Poultry & Livestock, Beginner Landscaping, Sustainable Alternatives and Equine Forum,

Lots of great conversation in all the things I love.

Here is a picture of the converted computer desk in its new function as an indoor garden center as mentioned in http://gingerrambleson.blogspot.com/2009/03/planting-seeds-granddaughters.html.

I just called home. My sprouts are doing well.

The Most Expensive Coffee & Poop

2009-03-04T16:20:00.001-08:00

Oddly these are one and the same…..

OK they try and tell you it’s not REALLY poop. It comes out of cat-like animal’s butt. That makes it POOP to me. (I am not saying I won’t ever try it…and FYI…this is how the boat tours usually get cancelled.)

So, sometime ago this topic came up on CSI.. The most expensive coffee in the world, Kopi Luwak, comes from a civet. It looks like a ferrett/cat, so of course I have to check it out. Today I just was thinking about it again and decided to blog about it. Luck you!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asian_Palm_Cive

Kopi Luwak racks up as the priciest coffee in the world. It sells for between $120 and $600 per pound “The Luwak, (kopi meaning coffee) which eats the coffee cherry and then passes the beans out. The Indonesians then collect the droppings and retrieve the coffee beans.” Courtesy of http://www.thebeanshop.com/shop/detail.asp?prodid=100027 (in case you want to get some go here…they seem like good sports.)

Doesn’t that sound like poop to you? Looks like poop too….see. -------->

Wikipedia says “Further research by Dr. Massimo Marcone at the University of Guelph (CA) has shown that the digestive juices of the civet actually penetrate the beans and change the proteins, resulting in their unique flavor.”

OK.. That’s POOP.

Soooooooooooo, who decides to market this stuff…..? I guess when you think about it, it kinda makes sense compared to other things. Not like whoever decided to eat the next thing that came out of a chicken’s butt.. Boy did they get lucky!

I mean they already knew coffee was good, but really…..who decided it might be better after being pooped out by a ferrett/cat? Was that a response to someone imbibing something else grown in the forest? I would have to be drunk or stoned out of my mind to contemplate boiling up some cat poop and drinking whatever came to be…and still probably NOT happening.

The funniest part is how someone managed to get people to pay big money for it. It is a huge market. Some places offer it by the cup for between $50 and $100 depending on where you are shopping. I am in love with the person who came up with this marketing scheme. “ Let’s see if we can get people to pay big money for Sh*t coffee.” Yep. IN LOVE!

There are now civet farms to make this stuff. Of course there is some speculation on the quality because wild civets have a choice of which berries they eat and therefore pick the ripest juiciest ones while farm civets get what they are fed… So wild civet poop coffee might be better? (Did I just write those words together in a sentence?)

There is also Kopi Muncak which is coffee that comes from the “dung of several species of barking deer, or Muntjac, that are found throughout Southeast Asia.”

Dung=Poop.

Ok the deer barks and then poops coffee…….(Again....did I just write those words together in a sentence?)

I am going to stick to wine for now. I might be unknowingly drinking some pressed bugs but …..it’s all in the knowing.

The Boat Trip & How Things Come Together

2009-03-04T14:33:00.000-08:00

Once someone at work said she would like to sell tickets to a little boat tour through my brain. Then would come the days where she would look at me with a strange face and say, ”The tour is CLOSED today!” She is long gone from there and so I am…sort of… but the phrase still pops up now and then because others migrated with me that are still somewhat interested in the whole concept.

Here is an example of how I put things together. Usually there is no road map so you are special to get this glimpse. (Sort of like an actual tour.)

Yesterday I blogged about bluebirds.

Usually I blog about wine (and food).

Today while on another blog I follow about wine http://community.winepressnw.com/ I found I wanted to comment on something that wasn’t there. (don’t try and understand.. just get on the boat and let it drift.) That led me to another site where something at the bottom of the page caught my eye about eco-conscious wineries…. http://www.willamettevalleyvineyards.com/

This got me interested in what that meant exactly. The boat drifted on and passed by Sokol Blosser Winery and how they got into The Natural Step program. http://www.thenaturalstep.org/en/usa/sokol-blosser-winery-dundee-oregon-usa and here is what came back to me under “PRODUCTION”…..

“Is part of the Prescott Western Bluebird Recovery Project with a dozen bluebird houses in the vineyard. It now has a small flock of about 25 bluebird residents that help to control insects.”

Remember yesterday’s bluebird? And the conservation project mentioned? http://www.prescottbluebird.com/BB_Article98.htm

Look.. He’s back. http://www.oregonbirds.com/bluebirds.php

And the boat docks.

Bluebirds & Full City Coffee

2009-03-03T17:33:00.001-08:00

Here I am in Eugene, OR. I think all it does here is rain…rain…rain…Occasionally I see blue sky in between the fat gray clouds. Things grow here, mold and other green things. I think the sun shines on the weekend when I am not here. There has to be sun for things to grow right? OK no more whining…..(about rain)

Today I saw a bluebird. I have seen lots of blue jays of all kinds and I’ve seen lots of carvings, pictures etc of bluebirds (so I know what one looks like.) but today I actually saw one. I got to watch it for a while. This one was bigger than I thought it would be and very pretty. It looked like this.

http://www.oregonbirds.com/bluebirds.php

Apparently they got pretty scarce in the 40’s but are making a comeback. Possibly thanks to these people. http://www.prescottbluebird.com/BB_Article98.htm

It was quite a treat to get to watch this guy party on the roof next door. Hope he finds a girlfriend. Thanks buddy for entertaining me in that longgggggggg all day conference.

Since I mostly blog about my nighttime cuisine I thought I would let you know where I eat during the day. Sorry… no alcohol ….The job may drive me to drink but only after hours.
Down the street is a place we are making a habit. Full City Coffee.

http://www.full-city.com/cafes.html

They are a small coffee roaster and coffee café. Great coffee, perfect pastries and quiche that is comfort food for me. Today I had some kind of chocolate orange late thingy. It was heavenly. The baristas are very friendly and know their stuff. The place is always packed with people hanging out and doing things people do at coffee cafes. Computers, newspapers, friend chatting etc.

Now if I could just see the bluebird from there……

Planting Seeds & Granddaughters

2009-03-02T13:47:00.000-08:00

Of course I can start by saying… my granddaughter is the smartest cutest 10 month old on the planet. I will elaborate on this further down. I might even say it a few more times.

See.

OK. Now about planting.

It should be spring. I want it to be spring, therefore it should happen. Weekend before last I was lured by the bulb bin at Lowes. It was calling my name. “ Ginger…buy Dinner Plate Dahlias…”Trying to convince me it was time to plant things. It worked, sort of. I was convinced but not stupid. I bought them knowing I would store them for a few more weeks in case of snow, which of course happened 4 days later, about 5” of the cold white stuff. I mean really what if I waited and they were all gone???? I try to pay attention to impulses when shopping. (I mean if items are speaking to me directly.)

Dinner Plate Dahlias are really awesome. The flowers are the size of a dinner plate… (hence the name)

Picture courtesy of http://www.directgardening.com/

Husband was a good sport as I loaded up the cart….OK so I should preface this with the fact that most things I plant don’t live. With one glaring exception I had very good luck growing kind loving productive kids so I can’t complain too much about the plants. After the last kid left last year I started watching “Desperate Landscapes” http://www.diynetwork.com/diy/shows_ddsl/episode/0,3110,DIY_28996_51320,00.html

I decided to try again with the plants before someone nominated me…. So far I think the pine trees are going to make it and my lavender looks viable still. We’ll see if the apple tree sprouts leaves this spring. Right now it looks similar to most everything else in my winter landscape. Like a big stick. I have to say husband is learning that there are some benefits to humoring me in these endeavors. He scored a Yard Machine lawn tractor with more attachments than a food processor…..including a snow shovel that can also move dirt. However, he did find out you really need chains for the beastie or it doesn’t push snow anywhere.

So that was last weekend. This weekend I decided to maybe rush things a little. I have this huge corner computer desk in the dining room that really has just been collecting stuff since I got my laptop. I was going to move the computer into the French room and give the desk to my son who has been begging for it for a while. Of course now he has no room for it….grrrrrrr…. So I did move the computer and threw away most of the collection of junk around it and….the desk is now the plant stand!

I bought a new light fixture with 5 adjustable heads and filled it with grow lights. (Holy smokes grow lights are expensive…Husband was a VERY GOOD SPORT.)My daughter in law said if I put too many grow lights in I might expect a visit from the local gendarmes. I’ll be happy to show them my sprouting tomatoes and hopefully some Dahlias. They didn’t come to visit when I had 20+ 150w floodlights keeping baby chicks warm…

I went to http://www.dahlias.com/index.asp?PageAction=Custom&ID=2#15 and checked to see if Dahlias can be started indoors… YIPPEEE!

I also scored a 72 starter flat. (OK I just bought it but scored sounds so much better…) some seeds for tomatoes, Oregon Spring, http://davesgarden.com/, Sweeties (Cherry) http://www.parkseed.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/StoreCatalogDisplay?storeId=10101&catalogId=10101&langId=-1&mainPage=prod2working&ItemId=5883&cid=ppp000133 and Urban beefsteaks http://davesgarden.com/guides/pf/go/118362/

I also got going some cilantro, basil (Italian Large Leaf) , Johnny Jump Ups and Coneflowers

Now back to the granddaughter. (The smartest cutest 10 month old on the planet.) As I was planting these seeds I was thinking about being a grandma and the joys that come with it. Next year she will be twice her age and twice as smart and cute and therefore able to enjoy this planting time with me. I can see her little fingers pushing seeds into the squares of the starter trays. Then we can watch the little things sprout up together. (She will have a little brother or sister by then and probably welcome some alone spoiling time with Grandma.)

All that hard work and nice thoughts about my Granddaughter earned me a glass of wine. I finished the Willamette Valley Vineyards Riesling. Next week I’ll let you know if anything sprouted besides my imagination.

Ambrosia & Fat Tuesday

2009-02-27T11:20:00.000-08:00

I am making my way around my new little world. We were planning on travel this week and wanting the option to fly into my home base and not flying into my work base and then driving 2 ½-3 hours home we had my husband drive us over on Monday. Then the travel plans changed (I should have known THAT would happen..) and here we were stranded without a car all week. Hence making my way around my little world. (on foot)

Of course I already discovered Diablos Downtown Lounge, where the Fat Tuesday Party was held.. later on that.
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&friendID=50347921

My next new haunt has become Ambrosia. http://www.ambrosiarestaurant.com/
Hey, in this picture someone is sitting in my spot! Grrrr...

I am making my mission to try as many non meat items (and a few meaty ones too) on the menu as I can…and there are plenty. The main problem is that I like the Scampi Farfalle so much I keep getting sidetracked. I also am trying to go through everything on the wine by the glass menu, especially the dessert wines.

First I would like to say DAVE THE CHEF ROCKS! I came in starving one night craving the Scampi Farfalle. It was late enough to be on the late night menu which does not include that….so I begged. I was accommodated with my scampi! That sure kept me coming back.

So Tuesday night started with the warm goat cheese salad which is a little bit of decadent heaven. I had the Scampi which is my favorite. I am not usually that fond of bow tie pasta but this is just soooooo very good.

The bartender, Gabe, was very knowledgeable about wine and had me do some tasting. I ended up with ’06 Cabernet by Martini. I hadn’t had a Louis Martini cab in years. It had a lot of cherry tones to it. Drinkable.

When my scampi came Gabe hooked me up with the ’06 King’s Estate Pinot Gris. It was perfect with the scampi. Not too sweet. Bright and crisp. http://www.kingestate.com/

At the end of the bar there were some gentlemen visiting. One was an elevator salesman. (A very handsome one I might add.) They had something red in these great glasses. Loved the shape. Can’t find it to show you. So anyway. That inspired me to have what they were having…. 06’ Martorana Contrada Ragabo Nero D Avola. It’s a Sicilian varietal. The color was amazing. It’s one of the “Small Vineyards” wines. They market wines from smaller vineyards that would not normally make it in the same markets as the big guys. It is a kind of sour cherry scented wine. Mild, earthy, a little spicy, different. I liked it.

For the dessert wine I had the ’99 Vin Santo Felsina. Ohhh..yummy…A beautiful Copper/gold color with blended scents of peach, apricot, pineapple and an overall tropical feel. It was very, very good.

Now very happy and full I decided to wander over (across the street) to Diablo’s to check out the craziness of the Fat Tuesday Party and see what kind of trouble my friend was getting into….. Craziness was the word! Everyone (but me) in costumes doing what you do to get Mardi Gras beads…… Ha! I got some while still keeping my breasts out of public view. That takes talent! (and long running kindness to the people who matter .) As far as my friend getting in trouble… Well, too late on that one. She had LOTS of beads and she got them the old fashioned way.

I did finally get to see the basement. It is a very cool dance floor with flaming walls.
I think Troy (owner)had the best costume…. But it looked a little too natural on him. White Joe was dressed as a ….clown? That works!
The band was great and most of them were toppless (men) with lots of tattoos. The full experience.

C'est la vie

Saturday Night at The Blacksmith

2009-02-24T15:57:00.001-08:00

My husband became an antique on Friday (50) so the plan was to go out to dinner somewhere nice. As usual the plan was thwarted by a last minute emergency that didn’t put me out of work until after 9:00pm, still with a 2 ½ hour drive home. I did get home in time to wish him a happy birthday while it was actually still his birthday and fall into bed.

Saturday we got to make up for it. Dinner at The Blacksmith in Bend, OR.
We have wanted to go there for a long time and just had never made the time for it. Then I pretty much went vegetarian and it’s a steakhouse……Saturday we went. It was a food event.

http://www.bendblacksmith.com/

We invited our 23 yr old daughter, Cassie, the 2009 Sister’s Rodeo Queen, since we don’t get to see her much.
http://www.sistersrodeo.com/rodeo.html

First we shared the house salad and the flaming tableside spinach bacon salad (we like flames), both were wonderful. Then we all had steak. I am only going to talk about mine since I didn’t eat theirs. They did seem to enjoy theirs though….The lick marks on the plates were a give-away.
I had “The Cheesesteak” which was a filet on top of some yummy mashed potatoes with truffle oil, leeks, mushrooms and some other stuff…..The filet itself, Cascade Natural Beef, WA, was outstanding. Cooked perfectly (barely cooked…which is perfect in my opinion). On top was this melted cheese to die for, I don’t usually go for cheese on filet but the description lured me into trying it. Cowgirl Creamery Red Hawk Triple Cream

http://www.cowgirlcreamery.com/cheeses.asp

and was perfect for the steak. I paired it with the Whitehall Lane 2005 Merlot. This lush red went very well with the steak and cheese. Held its own without overpowering anything.

http://www.whitehalllane.com/our_wine/facts/fact_05_MerlotNapa.php

For dessert we shared the chef’s choice dessert platter for 4. (opps) We ate the phantom guests part too I guess. Chocolate cake, crème brule w/ raspberry sorbet, pumpkin bread pudding, a martini glass with several kinds of sherbets and sorbets and some little homemade cookies that were great.

I paired my dessert with the 2005 Selak's Ice Wine, New Zealand (Can’t find a website). It was really nice. This ice wine has a little bit of a white raisin tang as well as great rich fruit flavor so it was bright enough to shine with dessert in fine fashion.

Our server, Jennifer (sp?) was very knowledgeable about wine and the meals served at The Blacksmith. She really was fun as well as professional.

We had a memorable, unhurried evening.

Unmasking the BINGO Biker Bar

2009-02-20T12:53:00.001-08:00

Since I have practically moved there now I guess I should unmask the BINGO Biker Bar. Drum Rolllllll……………… The Downtown Lounge otherwise known as Diablo’s http://www.diabloslounge.com/ in Eugene, Oregon is fondly known to us as The BINGO Biker Bar.

Owner-Troy (last name unknown..OK I'm sure HE knows it...maybe..but I don't.) ,described in the BINGO, The Bar & Bad Fairies post as the Oak Ridge Boy with a George Carlin sense of humor makes sure everyone is safe and has a home there. He has a great taste in beer and rotates the selection with local up and coming brews, the latest being the Ninkasi Believer.http://www.ninkasibrewing.com/beers.php. I read the reviews and they all do it justice. It's a really fine beer. The menu is VERY good and unique, plenty of room for a vegetarian to graze with the carnivores. The calendar of events is strong enough to bring people back on a nightly basis. Something creative and different every night with extra special events thrown in. (Naked Sushi on Valentine’s Day, Fetish night, etc… Makes me really glad I’ll be in town for St. Patrick’s Day!) Really, check the website. (Ignore the poker thing on Wednesday night… it’s Funky now.) Tuesday Tacos are pretty awesome and of course BINGO night is just an event to remember EVERY week….

Manager-Joey (“Dark Joe”) is kind of quiet and possibly seems to be the sanest person in the place. (I am sure if anyone reads this from the bar they will probably roll laughing at me.) Either he is, or I have not spent enough time around him. He also is a great D.J, BINGO caller and devilishly handsome. (Strictly an unbiased option from a very married woman.)

White Joe- Otherwise known as the “BINGO stud” in my previous posts, well…. I am not really sure what White Joe does there… they might not be either….he does in his strange way attract ladies (I think it’s that “rescue him from the pound before they put him down” feeling.) and they buy him drinks, so he is good for business…. We have now coined a new slogan for Diablo’s “Friends don’t let friends do White Joe.” There is no really describing White Joe other than what I have in previous posts….He is going into the Army soon and Afghanistan is NOT prepared I guarantee you.

The bartenders I have met are, Yulika (sp?), River and Jory (sp?) all are funny, friendly and pour a good honest drink.

This is a strange comfortable melting pot zone for everyone. Really! There is a regular group of older ladies from New York dressed to kill, that come to have a drink and play BINGO with Bikers and Gay guys and us crazy girls. After 9:00pm the place is hopping every night. Bands from all over come and play and everyone has a good time. Sometimes a little too good ….

Come on down…..

Six States, 7 Days

2009-02-19T14:57:00.000-08:00

Oregon, Florida, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Utah, New Jersey. That’s where I’ve been this last week. I visited my Mom, Tom and my ferret siblings, got my cheese steak in Philly and spent two hours on a phone conference sitting on a bucket in a field full of ducks chickens, and a 32 yr old horse in New Jersey.

I already told you about the Florida trip so I am moving on to Philly/Delaware/New Jersey
Visited Mom, Tom and the ferret clan (Dandy, Poppy, Snoopy, Clover, Lance & Rocky).

<--------------- Lance

We hung out and on Sunday went to Winterthur and saw the Campbell’s Soup tureens…fascinating…..Really though, Winterthur established by Henry Francis du Pont (1880-1969) houses some of the finest Americana. Furniture, Porcelain etc. Definitely watch the video when you first go in. The gift shop had some plants I really liked but could not take home on the plane.
http://www.winterthur.org/

We had dinner at Lamberti’s Italian in Wilmington and it was really nice. I love mussels and so the appetizer, bread and salad were more than enough. For wine I had my standard favorite, Chateau St. Michelle Riesling. It was perfect with the mussels. The atmosphere there is VERY nice and the service was great.
http://www.lambertis.com/locations/cucina/wilm_phil.htm

Monday morning I retrieved my miscellaneous items stolen by my furry ferret siblings and headed out to see my friend, MaryLee, who I had not seen in 8 years. I pulled this prank on her telling her I was sending her a large present (well I didn’t LIE.) and she had to be at her house between 9am-10am to greet it. I almost had to call and say her present was lost but I managed to make it there after all…..She cried! We spent the rest of the day catching up and caring for her huge flock of chickens, ducks, turkeys, ONE guinea. (I despise guineas but this one was ok). And breeze, her 32 year old appaloosa, who is blind as a bat and full of energy.

I got to go to WaWa, which I dearly miss. Only people who have spent a fair amount of time in the east can say I need to go to WaWa with a straight face. For those of you who have never been to a WaWa, they are like 7-11 or ARCO stations with much nicer food and the BEST coffee. Seriously, people have TATTOOS of WaWa it is that much of an icon.

http://www.wawa.com/WawaWeb/

My favorite Chinese buffet had survied the economy so off we went for lunch, Sharon Zheng Buffet II, and I was thinking now we have buffets just as good in Oregon with all you can eat sushi but NO! They upped the score. They had all you can eat SASHIMI. I should just move there…..Poor MaryLee was still in shock. She kept looking across the table and saying “I can’t believe you are sitting in front of me….you A**HOLE …big smile.

http://www.cubuma.com/cgi/f/lView.pl?li=EML0113656&tc=Chinese&pc=Dining

We had to go back to the chicken ranch and make sure everyone went to bed inside at dark so the hawks, skunks, raccoons etc don’t eat the little dears before dawn. My job was to herd the Sebastopol Geese. They are very cool geese that have long curly feathers and look like they are made of ribbons and lace. One kept hissing at me until it figured out I was throwing corn to it not at it…..

http://www.feathersite.com/Poultry/Geese/BRKSebastopol.html

Then we met up with husband Bill and went off to Red Lobster, which of course was good because it was Red Lobster and we don’t have one in either city I live in, in Oregon. Another glass of Chateau St. Michelle Riesling. (Why mess with a good thing.) MaryLee and I did stop at Canal’s (local liquor store the size of a whole chain grocery store) and I was going to get some local New Jersey wine (yes..there was a section of it..) so I could blog to you about it. MaryLee said..PLEASE DON’T!

Off to bed and up early to go free the flock.

Next I had my conference call out in the field.

Then back to the Philly Airport where, since the drive from New Jersey went perfectly (anything can happen on the Atlantic City Expressway and over the bridges, in fact they closed the Walt Whitman Bridge right behind me, so I left with lots of time to spare) I had a little time so I tried some local brew and got my cheese steak sandwich. (Wit Wit) The brew was Yuengling Lager, made by D.G. Yuengling & Son, commonly called Yuengling, of Pottsville, Pennsylvania, Yuengling is the oldest operating brewing company in the United States, established in 1829, and I liked it. It was not too dark and not too light (a red amber). Not bitter at all. Really mellow and PERFECT with a cheese steak. Go Philly!
http://www.yuengling.com/beers.htm

Caught my plane to Salt Lake then Eugene. My leg to Eugene brought me a special treat. I was seated next to Ricky McKinnie from The Blind Boys of Alabama. The rest of the band was all around me. They are playing all around the pacific northwest this week. http://www.blindboys.com/

Now I am back in homeland, that is to say Oregon but not home……*snif*
Well, at least I know where the Hef is…….

R -Rated Bingo & Sh*t From Your Pockets

2009-02-12T12:38:00.000-08:00

I’m a little late on this but I was busy hanging out in Florida. Its way too hot there and I didn’t see and alligator. *snif*

Monday night I made it back in town in time to actually play BINGO at the biker bar by the Greyhound station. I took my friend. I don’t think we can ever go back…. OK well she might not be able to. They have laws about baring your breasts in public. There were at least 3 long island ice teas that were a precursor to these actions (on her part I as usual was drinking Hef.)

Turns out this is sort of a white elephant BINGO as well as bar goodies. People bring in stuff. The old gay guy brought in some cross stitched teddy bear thing in a frame and some one won it in a game. It is a very interesting crowd of regulars. Old ladies from New York dressed finely, mingling with gay biker dudes and not so gay biker dudes and the BINGO stud who would probably mount a stuffed Chihuahua given any encouragement.

Seriously, He was having fun coming over to us and making graphically nasty propositions…. Now we might have been encouraging him a bit with my friend flashing her boobs and all…. Anyway. I was on the phone and he was saying some cutely nasty stuff and I handed him the phone and said “Say that to the phone!” Which he did with great glee in great detail………to my husband ….Who by the way is an extremely good sport. When I got the phone back he said “Honey, I would be worried about that guy.” “No worry honey I am twice his size and sober. I can take him.” I said . “OK, have fun!” honey says.

Much later in the evening when BINGO stud was trying to talk my friend over to his place and said “Your husband is on the other side of the mountains.” I said “Yes, but MY husband lives a mile away from him and you just spoke to HIM on the phone.”BINGO stud said. “I quit.” I’m running away now!” HA!

SO here’s how it works. For .50 you get a card. There are 3 cards on a strip so most people buy $3 worth (2 strips) I think one of the little old ladies buys 10 strips and she wins almost every game….

The first part of the game is any straight line BINGO. Then the person who wins gets to pick a pattern off the sheet of options. Most people tend to pick “The Butthole” in a normal BINGO parlor this is known as “The Small Picture Frame” but hey, this is biker bar BINGO.
Then the game progresses to a blackout. For the first two parts the winner gets a buck and some prize. The teddy bear needlepoint or a wind chime or the BINGO caller’s underwear.. you get the idea. The last part, the blackout, you get some money. Around $15 or so.
They have one game where the cards are $1 each and the bar must chip in because you win some decent money and a serious prize…like a camera or a 30” T.V.
Then…there is the LAST game. “Sh*t From Your Pockets”. The BINGO caller goes around to everyone and gathers “Sh*t From Your Pockets” and puts it in a basket. Whoever gets a blackout first wins everything in the basket.

Guess which game I won ..... Yep…..“Sh*t From Your Pockets”.
I won:

$12.67
a menu from the Voodoo Doughnut stand and wedding castle in Portland
paper napkin rose
purple pearl tampon
basketball keychain & bottle opener
shampoo from Shilo inn
business card for "Drix the computer geek"
pen
1/2 taquito
1/2 cigarette
matches from Tan Republic
walmart receipt for a fenshui CD$

A pretty good haul. I think I made a little $$$ and I really needed the shampoo.

Jimmy Buffett & Rum

2009-02-06T11:40:00.000-08:00

OK. I fess up. There may not end up being anything in this post about rum other than this. All I know about run is if you drink too much of it you might try to climb on the horse and sit with El Cid in Baloboa Park and barf up a perfectly good salmon dinner (the pink never comes out of the cream Berber carpet)…. but Jimmy Buffett & Riesling just doesn’t sound right.

I am a PARROTHEAD

“Parrot Head or Parrothead is a commonly used nickname for fans of Jimmy Buffett. "Parakeets" is the term used for younger fans of Jimmy, or children of Parrotheads. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parrothead)”

Here is the URL to the Parrot Head Webring so you can keep up with all things Jimmy Buffett. http://www.geocities.com/TheTropics/Lagoon/3292/Parrot.htm

There are a lot of cool charity things going on at the Parrot Heads In Paradise.
http://www.phip.com/

My favorite songs mostly seem to be on “Son Of A Son Of A Sailor”, which I had to order on CD because it is so old (which makes me so old). Originally I had it on a dark blue cassette tape, which I still have in a box somewhere but have nothing that will play it. Specifically I wanted "Coast of Marseilles" as I had just come back from there and it is just as advertised. I often wonder if he was out on Friol Island. Also, my all time favorite JB song is “African Friend" which is also on that album. Ackkk..CD.

I am very fond of “A Pirate Looks At Forty” Which is on several CD’s. I have it on “Songs You Know By Heart.” And I do…know them by heart.

According to “Cheeseburger In Paradise” a cool draft beer is acceptable Buffett refreshment. On that topic I shall ramble over to give a short review on some draft beers I had at the Bingo Biker Bar the other night.

Since I believe you should start with something you like to put you in a good frame I started with a Hef, you can read about Hef in the Bingo, Bars & Bad Fairies post. I was getting adventurous and since the Snow Cap, which is a seasonal beer put out by Pyramid was dropping off the tap the next day, decided despite the warning of the bartender, to give it a try. Should have listened to him. I really like Pyramid’s Apricot Ale and they make a good Hef. The Snow Cap was a little weird. Dark-ish, not too dark, and had this kind of banana sweet hint to it. I like bananas but not so much in beer. I didn’t hate it but I didn’t love it either.

Next I had a Ninkasi IPA. I have read a bunch about Ninkasi lately but had not tried one of their beers. The IPA was nice. Fairly uncomplicated like an IPA should be. A little malty and orange, not too bitter. It went well with BBQ ribs and Blues Night.

The other offering they had on the board was “Power & Pibb”. I thought it might be a beer…and something? Glad I asked. Whiskey and Mr. Pibb (a Dr. Pepper tasting substance). YIKES…..My Irish ancestors are shaking a finger…..One should not do that to whiskey. Humm.. Come to think of it I have tried that with RUM! That’s what inspired me to try and ride with El Cid. (I believe that attempt was thwarted by law enforcement.)

<--------El Cid

Bottom line. If you drink all the beer and all the rum and the whiskey & Pibb…. Watch out for that other most famous Jimmy Buffett song…..because some guy is bound to ask…Hey baby “Why Don’t We Get Drunk”……(You can read the rest of that song title for yourself J) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Why_Don%27t_We_Get_Drunk

I am now going to confuse my coworkers by wandering away with my hands over my head pretending to be a land shark while singing “Fins”.

Possibly, since it is me, they will not be confused at all………………………..

A Very Short Story On Cabernet & Spies

2009-02-04T17:43:00.000-08:00

Last night I cannot comment on much except for the wine. How much trouble can you get it talking about wine?.... Unless you’ve just been stopped by a cop for a possible DUI. Probably not a good time to give a dissertation on wine.

OK. So I was spying on someone. It wasn’t stalking, I don’t intend to make a habit of it so that makes it “an investigation”.. .and Spy sounds more fun than “investigator” coupled with a great restaurant and wine. Very sexy. So nice that the spyee had great taste in food. Did I mention I love my job? (ok right then… there are frequent times I’d rather be on fire, just out of reach of chocolate or told that prohibition has been reinstated.)

So after leaving my trench coat and slouchy hat at the door I knew I had to blend in so I scored a really nice ’06 Chateau St. Jean Cabernet. Hearty red but with mellow oak and just an all around pleasant finish. It went really well with my seafood pasta in red sauce. This place also had the most heavenly chocolate orange cake thing. Yummy. I was about to try a dessert wine with it when I realized that falling off the barstool might attract attention (a good spy uh.. investigator… does not attract attention) and I also had my car down the street and it was a long walk back to the quaint motel next to the BINGO biker bar. I did not want to be giving dissertations of any kind to any law enforcement…..I had coffee. It was great.

I said this would be short so that’s it.

Bye.

Bingo, The Bar, & Bad Fairies

2009-02-03T13:05:00.000-08:00

Last night was one of those weird happenings that came about, well, I’m not sure how it really came about except it was late, I was exhausted and I needed food.

hhhhhhhh

I’ve been working out of town on and off, mostly on, and I stay at this one old motel. It is quaint and homey, close and if I leave my laptop cord there I know I’ll get it back. It is also across the street from the Greyhound Bus station and next to the Greyhound station is a bar. I have avoided the bar because it looks a little hard core and …it’s next to the Greyhound station and it’s a bar.

Last week my friend and I discovered a REALLY nice Italian restaurant (you may read $$$ into that as well as fantastic food) a couple blocks away from the motel. (That was another wine experience I can relate later.) and I knew that the Italian place was usually open late so I headed over there in anticipation of a great meal and some good wine. They politely informed me that the kitchen had just CLOSED. Ackkkk. The waiter pointed in the opposite direction of my motel and said there was another place 2 blocks away that was sure to be open. I headed off in that direction. After a block I was really wondering. It looked like there was nothing in the distance that was open. That’s because there wasn’t. In fact it looked like this part of the city had been quarantined and I missed it. All places closed. The outcome was an 8 block circle back to my motel in which I saw ONE other person. I decided to be brave and headed for the bar.

I passed the bus depot, nodded at a sketchy looking character hanging out at the door and went into the bar. There was large sign at the door that said “BIKERS WELCOME”. Hummmm…. I was immediately VERY enthusiastically greeted by a several little old ladies armed with booze and BINGO daubers, a BINGO caller that looked like the Oak Ridge Boy with all the hair crossed with biker (obviously in the right place) and the humor of George Carlin, and a young guy with a voice like a D.J. Yes, they were playing BINGO in the bar. All you can eat spaghetti and BINGO on Monday nights. $5.95 The BINGO caller announced “I-18… I love it when they’re 18.”….oh boy. Too funny. I wonder what happens when he calls O-69? I explain that I can’t play BINGO right now because I am still handling a crisis at work by phone and am starving. Next week, I promise.

I ordered a Hef. Now I give reviews on great wines but when it comes to beer if you don’t know what a Hef is..just go somewhere and say “Give me a Hef please.” When you want a beer that is the one. I opened the menu dreading the prospect of “bar food”… the menu was loaded with wonderful sounding items, many vegetarian. I AM SHOCKED. Beer, BINGO and some great food all at a very reasonable price. I got my beer and got on the phone and work on the issue at hand for a bit. My salad comes and it is huge and full of yummy stuff. My beer seems to have vanished in synchronicity with its appropriate yumminess. I order another. My sandwich comes it is fantastic. I feel stupid. This place has been ½ block from my motel the whole time.

People at the bar are friendly. It is a very nice slightly cavernous homey place. The BINGO caller announces a trivia contest. Mostly about Mr. T. I know almost nothing about Mr. T except he had some auspicious bling, but it is funny as hell. Then he says, “The next trivia question….What is MY NAME?” Someone shouts out something and he says YES! I shout out “STUD?” He looks over and says in his sexy D.J. voice. “That is not correct …BUT YOU WIN!” My phone rings again for some work crisis. I answer the phone on the way to the BINGO caller table as the Bingo Stud yells. .. “GINGER WINS A PAIR OF MENS UNDERWEAR.” The guy on the phone says “WHAT THE HELL?” I have to explain… a girl has to eat. In actuality I won a Southern Comfort shot glass, sadly empty of Southern Comfort.

Now I am having way too much fun when the guy on the stool at the corner of the bar says “You should have been here on Sunday. It was fetish night. I wasn’t wearing black so they didn’t let me in.” YIKES! He said he went on down the street the other bar that was hosting “Bad Fairy Night”…Now that sounds just plain scary. I think I’ll start with BINGO night.
All in all I had more fun there than I have had anywhere I have been in the many months I have been here. Before the last BINGO game the Oak Ridge Boy came over and gave me a hand written invitation on a BINGO card to come play next week. Very sweet, I will definitely be there! Bad fairies STAY AWAY!

As I walked out the door The Bingo Stud said, “Please come back soon. I am single, relatively disease free and have a college degree.”

A pretty good recommendation these days.

Superbowl & Dog Shows & Ice Wines

2009-02-02T18:33:00.000-08:00

Yesterday.. Superbowl. It was a very exciting game. Sadly the Cardinals did not win but they gave the Steelers a run for their money. My husband made cool munchies. Little sliders, cheese plates and stuff. He isn’t much of a sports fan, he’s the cooking guru so he is in charge if FOOD (you can follow his blog at http://www.jerryskitchenplayground.blogspot.com/)

OK so cheese plates of course will bring me around to my favorite topic. WINE.
I tried several new wines yesterday, no boss related issues, so really just on the path of true enjoyment.

Last week I went into Whole Foods to indulge in one of my other passions. CHEESE. Picked up some killer cheeses, Lemon Stilton, a new blue I had to try from Cashel, Ireland, one of my favorite places to go on a self guided drinking tour. At some point I will get my travel blog going and you can see the great castle at Cashel (say that really fast 3x).

OK back to cheese.
Anyway, of course next to the cheese is the wine section and this nice lady was doing a tasting. Remembering I was the driver I only tasted a little.

I am not real big on Petit Sirah’s but this one had a dog on the label. I am easily distracted by dogs. I love dogs. I think Molly, who won the Eukanuba Dog show last week was the prettiest dog. A real D-O-G not a poofy mop with tiny feet…. I was rooting for her. She did better than the Cardinals. http://www.akc.org/nationalchampionship/index.cfm?section=special_pages&type=BIS&key_image=74980 She has a really sweet face.

Back to wine. Hey.. it is called RAMBLING 101 for a reason....

Turns out some of the proceeds from the sale of this particular wine went to the San Francisco SPCA. Yep a bottle went in the basket. I did actually try it and it was pretty good. Better than I expected. (I suppose if it was truly terrible I could have just given the $$$ to the SPCA myself.) Vinum 2006 Petit Sirah “Pets” http://www.vinumcellars.com/vinum/catalog/view_product.jsp?product_id=1004 I think it was somewhere around $10 was over $10 and under $15.

My next find was at COSTCO. I was a very good girl. I am CRAZY about the Harris Bridge Pinot Gris Dessert Wine “Sarah’s Stories”. Seriously, I took this wine to France as a gift. If you are going to take wine to France it better be REALLLLLLY GOOD. Then I had to ship MORE there for Christmas. This stuff is liquid gold from heaven! It comes in ½ bottles and is spendy I drive 25 miles to get it and pay $30 per bottle and consider it worth every little drop. http://www.harrisbridgevineyard.com/Wine%20Descriptions.html

<----Harris Bridge Sarah's Stories

Now here I am at COSTCO and I spy some ½ bottles of something….. Here comes the part where I was a very good girl. Chateau St. Michelle, one of my stapes for Riesling, has out a 2006 Horse Heaven Hills Ice Wine Chenin Blanc, and there it was… $36.99 per ½ bottle. Ouch. Probably very much worth it but the $180 at Best Buy on the latest version of my favorite photo program and Digital SLR’s For Dummies to go with my new Canon Rebel the day before was still on my husband’s mind. Next to the Horse Heaven Hills (I just like typing that….it’s such a cool name and it gives me hope for George, our ancient horse who went to horse heaven last spring.) Was some St. Chapelle 2006 Ice Wine Riesling from Idaho, $15.99 for a ½ bottle. Price wise that almost put me into the virtuous category so in the basket with the Dubliner cheese and the Pico De Gallo it went. I wish I could find a picture of the bottle…I think the ½ bottles are very cool looking and perfect for long stem flowers, but alas no pictures on google images. (Of that bottle.)

So, the wine was nice, WONDERFUL for the price. Sweet and fruity peachy with some apricot to it lots of flavor. Went great with the emmentaler and the camembert. http://www.northwest-wine.com/Ste-Chapelle-Ice-Wine-Riesling.html

Now I think after stumbling on this site (it has a blog too) http://community.winepressnw.com/I might have to do some more testing of ice wines. Seems there are a LOT of different ones. http://www.northwest-wine.com/Ice-Wine.html

Some days it’s good to be me ;)

Work & Wine Flights

2009-01-31T18:36:00.000-08:00

This last month has been given over to me to study blogs and blogging as part of my job. In the process I got my husband to start a blog and decided today that I can just ramble on to myself and if anyone else wants to chime in..well ok. have at it.

My life at any given moment is either fantastic or majorly sucks. The former is usually just the way things are. I have dogs, cats, goats & donkeys. How grumpy can you stay when a donkey turns it's head sideways and looks you in the face? The later usually is directly related to work. Or specifically my boss, who since this happens to be one of those "sucks" timeframes (note Saturday afternoon when my life should be my own), I will, in the interest of keeping my job (although at the moment I cannot figure out why I still want it...Maybe that double digit unemployment rate in my state...) will not elaborate on even though it would make the funniest blog ever written outside of the Julie/Julia Project blog. Seriously if you have not read this blog it is classic. This is all I can find of it so I might have to buy the book. http://blogs.salon.com/0001399

On that note I will say most of his problems can be cured with wine. Not for him, for me. Since they seem to be mine too.

I like good wine. OK, I like good wine to start with. After a couple of glasses anything that resembles Easter egg dye with a kick will do.

Recently I have discovered wine flights.

Wine flights are little taster sets of wine. You can look on a whole wine list and get say, 3 (depending on the flight) different wines in smaller doses. Usually a 2.5 oz pour. These little puppies have sure caused me to break out of my wine shell and try some new stuff. For instance, I am not usually too find of Pinot Noir. Probably a criminal statement of some kind in my state (OR) where the majority of wineries produce the stuff. Thursday night the sommelier, a very knowledgeable young woman at P.F. Chang's talked me into trying the Benton Lane Pinot Noir. She really appealed to my true nature when she said "It's $12 a glass normally." DANG! The whole flight was only $8. Sure worth a try. So very good. Of the three wines I sampled that is the only one I remember. I saw it today in the market on sale for $20.97 a bottle. I almost bought one. If I hadn't been loaded up on Super Bowl party food I would have gone for it. I know my football friends would scarf it down like Gallo.

I am going to investigate this whole wine flights thing some more.

Have a good weekend and thanks for listening.