Cute kids

DSC_6521
Originally uploaded by Steliz

Pics of a couple of my nieces are on the Flickr site. Taken on the fourth of July. This one was my favorite of the set of the two of these guys together.

Saturday Thoughts & Observations

1. Celebrating the Fourth.
Driving down the street this afternoon, I saw, in front of the little park, large piles of spent fireworks, shells and casings. This means that, despite at least one of the organizers having moved away and the cancellation of last year's show, there must have been some sort of neighborhood fireworks show last night.
Mixed reactions -- it would have been fun to see the display -- previous ones were amazing -- but I wouldn't give up the delightful food, friends and conversation at Chez Dell last evening for anything. Thanks so much to the Dell's for a great evening!

2. Photo Op
Gotta remember to shoot the sign on the church around the corner: "Stop, Drop & Roll won't work in Hell."

3. The poor cat
She's been quite insistent on putting me to bed at night during Izzy's absence. Also asking for scritchies at night -- though scarce in the mornings.
At one point earlier today, she wouldn't stop yowling and acting upset -- and she wasn't interested in anything I offered her (brush, going outside, laptime.) Turns out, the box fan (plugged in and running) had fallen over in the back bedroom. I think this was Callie's first "Timmy's in trouble" moment. I'm proud of her.
I haven't seen her since I got back this evening. There have been fireworks off and on for the past hour or so, and we had a thunderstorm just before that. I'm going to assume that she is behind the couch -- I'll expect to see her around 11 asking for her dinner.

4. Fun movie dialogue.
I'm watching "Bertie and Elizabeth" whilst listening to more neighborhood fireworks. There is a great bit of dialogue as Queen Mary (consort of George V) and one of her ladies in waiting (I think Mabel Olgilvy, Countess of Airlie -- a member of the aristocracy) watch the romance blossom between Bertie (later George VI) and Elizabeth Bowes Lyons (daughter of the Scottish Earl of Strathmore, later Elizabeth, the Queen Mother.)

QM: I think my son is rather keen on the Strathmore girl.
Countess: I've formed that impression, too.
QM: Well, we could do worse than marry Bertie to a member of the British aristocracy. I mean, some of them are quite respectable. Well, yourself, for example.
Countess: [laughs] Has it ever been done? Isn't royal blood supposed to be a unique asset? Surely, she'd be the first commoner to marry into the Royal Family, since, um, ...
QM: Anne Boleyn.
Countess:Well, though didn't work out, did it?
QM: Oh, my understanding is that until he had her beheaded, the whole thing was a resounding success.

Commenting on American newspaper coverage of the possibly impending marriage between Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson (pre-abdication)

Courtier: Some of these [newspapers] may have been read by Canadians.
Duchess of York: So far from God and so close to America.

5. Liturgical Tourism
Went to Saturday evening Mass to see a couple of the musicians who will be moving away in August. Dinner afterwards -- nice conversation, but my food choices (Indian veggies)were apparently too carb heavy (alas...).
I think I resisted the urges towards liturgical tourism (i.e., watching, rather than worshipping.) I saw things that went well, and things that could have gone better; I saw things that I thought our Mass does better, and some things I wish happened better at our Mass. Overall, it was good to be able to listen and worship and anticipate the Eucharist without having to think about what bit of music comes next.
Assuming tomorrow goes as I plan, in Izzy's honor I plan to go to a Tridentine Latin Mass tomorrow at 1 PM. I think I'll be able to find Izzy's Latin Missal and a lacy head covering.

6. Speaking of Latin...
I'm getting much better at reading Izzy's Latin text messages and have even sent a few of my own. I'm sure that there were plenty of grammar mistakes, but I was apparently clear enough that he understood what I had to say (based on the replies I got.) Of course, he has over a decade's worth of experience translating student Latin -- I'm at least at their level.

7. Back to the cat.
10:50 PM and the fireworks, having mostly stopped, the cat has come out to express her opinions. Time to feed her and start winding down, so I'll be ready to sing tomorrow morning at 8 AM.

Happy Bday to Pritcher

For him, and anyone else turning 30, esp those with "little baby daughters"...



Lyrics.

I remember hearing this song when it was new, and I've gotten to see Uncle Randy do it several times since. This is from a 1990 performance -- gotta love the hair and shirt.

For everyone else, not just Pritcher:

Randy Stonehill will be in town (on the 12th?) at the coffee shop -- I'll be down front with the tripod -- let me know if anyone in the vicinity of the Congaree would like to join me.

If you're at all curious what the early days of Jesus music were like, check out Randy's Myspace and listen to "We were all so young." Izzy and I have seen nearly all of these guys and gals, and seen their lives give evidence to their deep faith.

Izzy's Trip: Day 1

If you know Izzy, you can check his Facebook status updates from time to time to follow his progress on the Latin speaking, filial piety, 25th anniversary summer tour. (Maybe we should get tour t-shirts made.) If you're not on Facebook, but we know each other, email me via the profile link and I'll clue you into a couple other ways to follow his travels.



I got up early this AM and took a few shots of his final preparations.


Everything he needs for five weeks on the road.



A description of this week from a Pacfic Coast blogger:

Nor is this pleasure [of Latin immersion] limited to electronic realms. This summer I will travel, in the corporeal world, to Rusticatio Virginiana, a week-long retreat at a villa formerly in the Washington family, where one speaks only Latin. Doing everything from trail-tromping to wine-tasting, from disputing Ovid and Catullus in many-hour sessions to sitting on the porch shooting the West Virginia breeze, we will be using only that ancient harp-song, Latin—and having the time of our lives doing it! The chef, by the way, one Andrew Gollan, is a Latin teacher at Santa Monica High School. (Even the carrots are cooked Latine modo.) What’s more, Rusticatio Virginiana is but one of many such shindigs across the country, and far more across the world, some of which last as many as eight weeks, and many of which are difficult to get into because the demand is so immense.

This evening, I tried to keep in the spirit of his Latin-only experience at the Rusticatio, and sent Izzy some sort of latinate text message. Be nice, now...

Quomodo vales ad locum Virginia Occidentia? Te ego et Caligula amamus.

Just to be sure that he got my drift, I send the 2nd in porcine proto-Italian.

Opehay ouyay avehay away oodgay imetay.

His replies (Latin, of course) told me he was in a room with (surrounded by?) four (other?) Catholic students and one leader who is an Anglican priest. He was tired and ready to sleep. He loves me.

As his trip progresses, I'll post links to any pics he sends or uploads (likely AFTER the 6th, when he gets to use English again, and gets Internet access.)


St, Isidore of Seville, pray for us.
For traveling mercies, Our Lady of Safe Travel and St. Brendan the navigator, pray for us (ora pro nobis)

Riverwalking

We headed out Sunday evening for a stroll along the river. The next walk we'll take like this will be along the mighty Columbia River ( not the Congaree River where you could almost walk unshod and dry to Columbia.)



As we started out, we saw a group of folks digging in the bushes -- turns out, they were harvesting blackberries. We ate a couple berries each, but most of what was availalbe wasn't quite ripe. I exercised forbearance and didn't photograph the harvester's shorts with 85% of the back ripped away, exposing multicolored underpants/shorts. Just seemed wrong.



Enjoyed the walk, the sights, and the company.


Reflections in the shallow riverbed


Cammo fisherman maches the rocks


See here for Izzy's suggested revisions to the sign (think back to the community's reaction to the Somali refugees...)

I'd planned to wash the car today

I was able to get in the cargo net and the cargo organizer installed, in the major humidity before the heavens opened...



We need a few more days of this to start to make up the rain deficit. Maybe we can learn rain dances at this week's ballroom class.

Faculty Party

We went to a party last PM with a group of Izzy's former colleagues. The occasion was a Bon Voyage gathering for a teacher who had arrived after Izzy left. We had a great time catching up with folks in the department, which was a wonderful group with which to work.

Pics are being uploaded to Flickr. I enjoyed spending time with the 3 1/2 year old whom I'd last seen as a toddler.


Izzy with nice bokeh


Playing with magnets


Colleagues


Closely guarded recipe

The OC

I went to the Urban Dictionary to look up a term (yes, the Urban Dictionary is in the next post after one on ballroom dancing -- that's our life), and discovered that I'd missed the 15-plus minutes of fame that our old neighborhood (Oak Cliff) had recently.


In Texas, now, The OC means Oak Cliff, the neighborhood where I worked and we lived for our last three years in Dallas. Per the Urban Dictionary, Oak Cliff is ...

The only place in Texas where you will get shot for getting shot by someone else who got shot.

Fear not:

While there are parts of Oak Cliff where looking at the wrong person in the wrong way will get you beat up, stabbed, or shot, overall it's an okay place to live.

Sounds about right. I also discovered that, amongst the "crunkest parts of the Metroplex" were other crunk areas"

Naw Oak Cliff ain't the only hood in D-town you got South Dallas (worked there), West Dallas (worked there), East Dallas (lived there), and Pleasant Grove (lived there).

I'd post the links, but the language is embarrassing - scads of izzle speak (don't those people know it's not 2005 anymore?)



Here's the Google image of our "Oak Cliff Love Nest." It's a garage apartment that was white when we lived there. The fence to the right covers what was the backyard of the main house, which functioned as our front yard, sitting room, garden and feline frolic area. The whitish are on the left surrounded by trees (hard to see, but worth the effort for historical purposes) was the concrete pad of the very first 7-11. The Dallas trolley line ended where Our garage doors were, so workers could pick up milk and bread before waling to their homes in the OC.

We loved the neighborhood -- ask one of us about it sometime to and watch us wax poetic and nostalgic.

Ballroom Dancing

SInce I can't shoot and dance at the same time (there's actual question as to whether I can dance and breathe at the same time), I took some pics of Mom and Pops during our lessons this week.



Not bad after rotator cuff surgery and a broken leg bone.





Tired, but happy.

Dancing Lessons and Domesticity

Izzy and I had our 3rd $3 group dance lesson tonight. We also had a delightful private lesson two weeks ago here at the House of Chez Casa, wherein we learned basics about counting and I tried to learn which foot is which. I'm hoping we'll be able to use this skill later next month (more on the occasion, below.)

Right now, we're winding down for the evening. I'm realizing that these quiet nights are about to end -- we have social engagements for Thursday and Friday, and then early to bed Sunday before Izzy leaves Mnday for 5 weeks (WVa, Oregon, Washington, Oregon, and back home.) He's calling it the Latin-Speaking, Filial Piety, 25th Anniversary, Summer Tour.

This evening, we're the picture of post-modern domesticity. Instead of "Mama in her kerchief and I in my cap" or Mama with the knitting and Daddy with a book or paper, we're here on the couch with separate laptops while the cat averts her gaze from across the room.

Izzy is calling his mom, whom he'll see sometime after Skylab Day, and a question was raised about Oregon's helmet law. They were pondering the issue whilst I proceeded to look things up on the interweb. It's kinda cool to be able to do that.

Now they are giggling about old musician jokes (cornyness alert -- the jokes are old... not the musicians...) (more here)

What's the difference between an onion and a bassoon?
Nobody cries when you cut up a bassoon.

How to you get a banjo player off your porch?
Pay for the pizza.

(My fave) What do you say to a musician in a 3-piece suit?
Will the defendant please rise?

Izzy is going to have a wonderful trip out to the western wilds of the US of A, and I'll be joining him partway through for our celebration of 25 years of marriage. I'm hoping to get to dance by the river (Columbia river, doncha know) with my beloved later next month. Slow, slow quick-quick. Triple-step, triple-step, rock step; throw out, cuddle step, back pass -- lots of fun.

A is for Aisle

Izzy pointed me to a song by the Canadish band Bare Naked Ladies, which is quite fun to listen to (maybe I'll (aisle? ilse?) learn it well enough to sing on long car rides.)

Snippets:

A is for aisle
B is for bdellium
C is for czar
And if you see him, would you mind telling him-

D is for djinn
E for Euphrates
F is for fohn, but not like when I call the ladies

G for Gnarly,
H is for hour
I for irk
J for jalapeno, good in either corn or flour (tortillas?)

K is for knick-knack
L is for llama

M for mnemonic
N is for ngomo
O is for ouija board
P for pneumonia, pterodactyl and psychosis

Q is for qat
R is for R-gyle, No, it isn't

S is for Saar, a lovely German river
T for tsunami, a wave that makes me quiver
U is for urn, but not like earning money
V for vraisemblance from French, And therefore kind of funny

W for wren, wrinkly, and who.
X is for Xian, an ancient Chinese city, true!
Y is for yperite, a very nasty gas.
And zed's the final letter
And by final, I mean last.

Hear it for yourself, with commentary on Scrabble, loser llamas, and Zed Zed Top.

Choosing to Love

I attended Mass twice this AM -- the first at our student center sorta-parish where I sing on Sunday AMs, and the 2nd to hear the first Sunday Mass of a newly ordained priest, Mark Mossa, SJ.

The gist of the two homilies, if I may combine them, was that we didn't choose God; He chose us. Therefore, others who are in the Church are also chosen of God. My attitudes towards my fellow believers can/may/do influence their abilities to live up to the calling of God upon their lives.

Quote (from someone, Goethe?) heard @ 1st homily:

I am not what I think I am;
I am not what you think I am;
I am what I think you think I am.

Some of God's people, as Screwtape tells Wormwood (* below) are harder to love or be kind to than are others. We decide to love, to support, to care.

I saw this picture when I got home, and it made me think of this morning's homilies. Gus, who lost an eye to a tomcat and a leg to cancer, won this year's ugliest dog competition. His owner will use the prize money to pay for his chemo and radiation treatments. Choosing to care, support, love.

I wonder what we often look like to God, especially when we are more like sheep [who] have gone astray, we have turned every one to his own way.

* From chapter II of The Screwtape Letters (one of my favorite passages):

One of our great allies at present is the Church itself. Do not misunderstand me. I do riot mean the Church as we see her spread but through all time and space and rooted in eternity, terrible as an army with banners. That, I confess, is a spectacle which makes I our boldest tempters uneasy. But fortunately it is quite invisible to these humans. All your patient sees is the half-finished, sham Gothic erection on the new building estate. When he goes inside, he sees the local grocer with rather in oily expression on his face bustling up to offer him one shiny little book containing a liturgy which neither of them understands, and one shabby little book containing corrupt texts of a number of religious lyrics, mostly bad, and in very small print. When he gets to his pew and looks round him he sees just that selection of his neighbours whom he has hitherto avoided. You want to lean pretty heavily on those neighbours. Make his mind flit to and fro between an expression like "the body of Christ" and the actual faces in the next pew. It matters very little, of course, what kind of people that next pew really contains. You may know one of them to be a great warrior on the Enemy's side. No matter. Your patient, thanks to Our Father below, is a fool. Provided that any of those neighbours sing out of tune, or have boots that squeak, or double chins, or odd clothes, the patient will quite easily believe that their religion must therefore be somehow ridiculous. At his present stage, you see, he has an idea of "Christians" in his mind which he supposes to be spiritual but which, in fact, is largely pictorial. His mind is full of togas and sandals and armour and bare legs and the mere fact that the other people in church wear modern clothes is a real—though of course an unconscious—difficulty to him. Never let it come to the surface; never let him ask what he expected them to look like. Keep everything hazy in his mind now, and you will have all eternity wherein to amuse yourself by producing in him the peculiar kind of clarity which Hell affords.

People who remember me

... seem to come out of the woodwork lately.

Tonight, while in line for the restroom at a concert, it happened thrice. I'll spare the full details, but I re-met (1) a former camp archery instructor (who I'd also spoken to at a school nurse meeting), (2) her husband who asked one of the odder questions I've ever had posed (more below) and (3) a member of my high school's concert choir and vocal ensemble.

There are those odd minutes of staring and asking that are typical to those encounters: Where did you go to school? Who are your parents? Where did you go to church in these years? Where-all have you worked? I mentioned that I'd only worked two placed in SC, my current job at the health dept and previously at Wendy's. Asked the husband: Did you work at the Wendy's on Bush River Road in 1978? Me: Yes. He recalled our store, where they'd stopped on their honeymoon 30 years ago. It was the only connection we could identify, and that's just too weird.

His wife and I were at camp together -- she taught archery at the summer camp her family ran. My youngest sister, had she been a boy, would have been named after this woman's father. I hadn't seen her since the early 1970's -- I must resemble my folks enough that people who knew my family back then can pick me out of a line-up (in this case a bathroom line.)

The former concert choir chum and I were able to recall and sing together (after the show) our All State audition song. (Bach's Honor and Glory) How cool is that?

Izzy was very patient, assuming the role he did so well at my 20 year high school reunion. So nice to see everyone in unexpected places.

Our musician friends also joined us at the coffee shop, and turns out that they were good friends of a musician who is a good friend of the guy we'd come to see. In a previous band, she'd also covered one of this guy's songs. Lots of very small worlds -- wonder who we'll re-connect with next?

Redundancies

Yesterday we had several two-fers. Two rainstorms, two test drives, two halves of a concert, and we became a two-Honda family.

We were told on Thursday that our only chance of test-driving a Honda Fit was to order one ($$ down, of course) and try it out when it arrived. If we didn't like it, they'd sell it to the next person on the list. They had some on the lot, but those were pre-sold and all the ones arriving in the next month were also pre-sold. My preferred color (vivid blue), wasn't in the queue, and the earliest I could buy something was sometime in mid-August. After doing scads of research and getting financing approved, I was ready to pull the trigger and wanted to do so before Izzy left for points north east and west.

So, Friday AM, I went on the interweb, looking for dealerships within reasonable driving distance that might have something I could test drive. (Note: We'd also tested a couple of Toyotas Thursday, but they weren't making my heart go pitter-pat.) I found another local dealership with (1) Fits in stock, (2) in my preferred color, and (3) available to drive. I guess I hadn't thought that local dealerships of the same car manufacturer would be in competition -- after all, when one Belk's doesn't have the item I want, they call another store in the same company. So, one Honda dealership's lack of helpfulness meant we sought out another. [I got a call from salesman 1 while I was paying for the accessories at dealership 2 -- it was awkward, but he hadn't done anything to let me know that there were possibilities beyond what we were offered the previous night.]

All that diversion is to say that we hopped on Honda 1 (two-wheels) and rode up to the wilds of the northeast section of our fair metropolis, including several miles in a scattered shower. Things went well, and Izzy and I each test drove a Fit. I liked the "fit" of it -- and there was a new one available in blue! Our salesperson managed to get it out of the processing line before the leather seats were installed (we're more cloth seat people), and after the inevitable wait for the finance office, we got keys and drove home on/in two separate Hondas.

Our first trip was to the art museum for an evening with Irish musicians. Sadly, the organizers (a mis-named group) had done little planning for what the musicians would actually do, and the quite-talented musicians were given only 30 minutes in the 2nd set, where the opening group of folks had over an hour. Still, we got to hear three numbers from these folks (newlyweds!), one of which they dedicated to us. Nice.

As we left the Museum, "all the fountains of the great deep [were] broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened" and we got seriously soaked getting to our car. So, no pics yet, since all the lovely external polishing and shining the dealership did is now covered with road splash.

Let's hope this one does as well as our last two cars. (We're keeping the Saturn for emergencies.)

Newest Family Member

The niece we've known the longest (she's not the eldest, but we've known her for the almost 24 years of her life) just had her 2nd baby, a little girl, on Thursday. I stopped by the hospital this evening and got a few shots of niece, her husband, great-niece and a couple of her first visitors.

Flickr shots are uploading. Here's just a couple to show how cute she is.


Great-niece & niece


Waking up -- first semi-smile


After her first rooming-in diaper change (by yours truly). Not sure if it's a real smile, but the jowls are genuine.


Dad & Mom & newbie


A couple of her first non-family visitors.

Off to bed while the rest upload. As I've typed, I've passed the minutes when, five years ago to the day and date, we lost my dad. Tomorrow (today) will be a day of very mixed emotions -- I'm glad folks will have Little Miss Mack as a focus for their emotons.

Welcome Baby; we miss you Daddy.