This Week in the Garden

Not Everyone in Class Wants to be Your Friend

Monday was the beginning of a new adventure for me. I started a photography class at the local junior college. As you know, I've been taking photographs for the last few years, first with my point-and-shoot (which wasn't half bad) and with the new DSLR since Christmas.

I've been thinking a lot lately about next steps, next goals. I started toying with the idea of getting an MFA or MBA, or a second BA. I looked into a couple of school's programs and decided pretty much what I decided many years ago when I first started thinking about college: since I'm not sure exactly what I want to end up with, the best thing to do is take the basic courses for credit at the junior college, where the tuition doesn't equal the price of a small car-- or a large one. Not to mention the fact that my camera has a bunch of buttons and dials that I don't have a clue how to use. That small thing.

I love summer session and winter quarter classes. Six or eight weeks to cram in a four-month semester's worth of study for the same amount of units. Highly recommended. Actually, I just really love school. I love the smell of the perennially brown paper towels in the bathrooms, the glittery, multicolored school supplies in the campus store (especially the art supplies!), the variety and vibrance of the students, the sense of purpose. College implies motion, achievement, direction. School, college and before, has always been a cool (schools must spend a fortune on air-conditioning), orderly refuge for me. So many memories...

So, Photo120 it is for now. Here is my instructor's website: brucebrown.com Impressive, eh? The two classes I've had so far have gone by quickly. I feel like my brain has been activated after class: my eyes keep seeing and seeking out vistas to photograph. Yesterday on the way home, I actually pulled out my camera while stopped at a red light in hopes of being able to shoot the cross traffic as it passed and get some blurring lights. If you've ever tried to do anything at red lights, you know that they are short when you need them to be long, and long when you are in a hurry. No picture. Today, to wrap up my first week's assignment, I'm having Tyla and the girls over for lunch so I can knock out a portrait and some action shots. I will post at least one shot from my assignments each week so you can see how I'm doing.

The Alarm Clock of Beautiful Deadened

I am still in the midst of the big work project. For your entertainment, I am posting an article from the French magazine Figaro which I translated using the babelfish translator online. I was hoping for more biographical information for one of the principals of the winery (the name of which I've removed here to keep the search engines from total confusion) and this is what I got. Enjoyez-vous!

The young generation knew to regild the blazon of this house.

(Thank goodness! That blazon really needed regilding.)

The readers who follow our heading with fidelity start to know my attachment with Burgundy and its high-class wines. They can show charmers and silky Chambolle-Musigny, rough and virile Nuits-Saint-Georges, sharp and minerals with Chablis, opulent and greedy Meursault Bref, on this narrow strip of land which goes from Marsannay to Santenay, while passing by most septentrional chablisien at the almost southernmost coasts chalonnaises, the emotions follow one another without never resembling each other. (Not never.)

This richness comes as much from the soils that men who cultivate them and maintain them with the wire the centuries, that they act wine growers proudly exploiting their some wrought vines, at the large houses of trades which knew to carry the wines of Burgundy beyond our borders.

The alarm clock of beautiful deadened

Among these last, it is one, among oldest, whose wines were often a source of frustration. The F______ house, celebrates nuiton field, always had the reputation to produce frank wines, but missing brightness sometimes. Of aucuns would say even austere. The matter was present, the soil also, but it missed small something for magnifier the unit. For all to say, this house made figure of beautiful deadened.

This reputation is from now on to throw to the oubliettes. A recent tasting of the year 2006 revealed wines dazzling, right, greedy, with an explosive fruit, letting speak the soil much more than the breeding. A true revelation. Better, a revolution!

Throw that reputation to the oubliettes! Vive la revolution!

Things You Must Know About

Number one on the list: Tomatoes

Here's the scoop: I went to the FDA site, and here's what I got from it: It appears that only three types of tomatoes are involved: Roma, Round Red and Red Plum, and only tomatoes NOT grown in the states listed at the bottom.

Since we live in California, tomatoes grown locally OF ALL TYPES are ok. Roma, Round Red and Red Plums are even ok if they are grown in California or one of the states listed. Whole Foods has pulled all of the tomatoes of these three types from their produce bins, but are still selling cherry tomatoes, grape tomatoes, heirlooms and tomatoes on the vine. These are all ok.

It appears you shouldn't eat any of these tomato varieties from Mexico, as it is not on the "safe" list. That's the one I think would be most likely to appear in the stores, since it's tomato season here, and it's almost over down there. It would have been a lot easier if they had just listed the states or countries to avoid, but maybe that's a longer list.

What often happens in cases like these (such as last year's spinach problem) is that they are conventionally farmed by a single company or group, or packed and processed at a central location which is contaminated. Sometimes they are treated in the field with a contaminated waste product as fertilizer (because if it's not organic, you can use sewage sludge or uncomposted manure as fertilizer-- nice, huh?) Since everything is brought from different places, once it's packed, even if they know where the produce started, they can't tell where the contamination originated, so they have to issue a blanket warning like this. I checked this with my local organic farming cooperative. The FDA doesn't list an official scientifically approved cause of the contamination.

In this case, locally-grown, organic produce purchased directly from the farmer or farmer's market is the best bet (as it usually is), as it is packed at the source, delivered within a short time of picking, and not fertilized by waste or processed in a contaminated facility. As Whole Foods mentioned, heirloom and other varieties of tomatoes are not affected.

****SO RELAX AND HAVE A BLT****

SAFE STATES/COUNTRIES LIST
If you live in one of these states and are buying locally grown tomatoes, you are OK.
* Alabama
* Arkansas
* California
* Georgia
* Hawaii
* Louisiana
* Maine
* Maryland
* Minnesota
* Mississippi
* New York
* Nebraska
* North Carolina
* Ohio
* Pennsylvania
* South Carolina
* Tennessee
* Texas
* West Virginia
* Belgium
* Canada
* Dominican Republic
* Guatemala
* Israel
* Netherlands
* Puerto Rico

Number two: Reef Safe Sunscreen
Sunscreen: so important there's a song about it. Here's something I bet you didn't know: the active ingredients in some sunscreens stay active when they wash off of your body into the sea. When they land on coral reefs, the sunscreens block the beneficial rays of sun which keep bad bugs on the coral at bay, and encourage viruses which eventually bleach and kill the reef. I originally read about this in the Denver Post, here, and at Environmental Health Perspectives.

I went through all of our sunscreens just before we left for vacation, because we love to spend time in the water in Hawai'i, and sure enough, every single one, even the fancy health food store types, had at least one of the four ingredients which cause the damage. The ingredients are: parabens, cinnamates, benzophenones and camphor derivatives. Here are some of the names you'll see on the bottles: Oxybenzone, benzophenone-3, octyl-methoxycinnamate. But look out for parabens and the camphor derivatives, too.

Yes, there is a sunscreen, made by Caribbean Sol, which does not contain these ingredients. It is the only one I could find, and I ended up buying it in Hawai'i, though you can of course buy it online and it should be appearing in more health food stores this summer.

The sunscreens it uses are reflective: titanium dioxide and zinc oxide. They include lots of other natural stuff-- you can go to their website to learn more if you want. From a user's perspective, the only drawbacks are that 1) it makes your skin look a little bit lighter when it gets wet, so if you're trying to show off a tan, just give it up for the day, and 2) we found we needed to be a little bit more generous with it, because it's not as oily, and it's a little bit stickier than regular sunscreen. Reflective sun-BLOCKS with zinc and titanium dioxides actually reflect the UV-A rays that make your skin AGE, as opposed to just the UV-Bs that we're all so afraid of, and that are dealt with by sunSCREENS. So that's a bonus.

We bought the kids' version and the regular version, and I think the kids smells a little bit fruitier and fresher, which I like in the summer. What we ended up doing was wearing regular sunscreen on the days we didn't go to the beach or snorkel, and using Caribbean Sol when we did (with showers in between). And as dorky as it seems (again, if you're a tan-hunter) I always wear a rash guard on top to avoid having to use as much sunscreen. If you can go super-dork and wear a long-sleeved rashguard and leggings you should, and you're a better person than I am. But I felt like I was doing my part, because I do love the little fishies in the sea. If you are concerned about toxic products in your cosmetics, you can always go to skindeep and check it out. (Burt's Bees makes one that uses titanium dioxide and is paraben and phthalate free, but it smells like midnight at a Greatful Dead concert. Ok, maybe not that bad. It smells like patchouli and sandalwood. Very much. So if you like that, it's great.)

A Vital Hit of Kitten

I suppose it's bad internetiquette (I thought I just made that up, but it's already in the urban dictionary) to skim photos from other sites, but this is the photo I need right now, from cuteoverload.com. This photo makes me feel the same way as I do when I see the grandpa and the toddler on my way to work.

The original caption and credit: Lady Buffington looks after her week old kittens at the Humane Society of Harrisburg Area in Swatara Township.
PAUL CHAPLIN, The Patriot-News

So, Where Were We?

To blog or not to blog. That has been the question. At first, I was afraid of boring you with my lunch, stirring your envy with more vacation photos, revealing my current state of work anxiety, or even reviewing sunscreens. None of it seemed very compelling. Fear (and/or ambivalence) leads to either no writing, or not entirely true writing. And not entirely true writing, if it isn't entertaining in its exaggeration, is pretty tedious.

And now, all of those things do seem pretty darn insignificant. Without going into too much personal detail, my dear, fiesty Grandma has been in the hospital, and today I can let out my breath a little, because she is coming home. Grandpa has been the superstar that he is, fielding phone calls, shuttling back and forth between the hospital and home, taking care of business. There is a long road ahead, but Grandma is determined, and improving every day. Her fiery nature is driving her recovery forward...that and her obvious and intense dislike of hospital food.

So it's back to hair and handbags, as the Brits say. Good to be back. I promise to post more pictures later today when I'm on a break.

What to Pack for A Week in the Tropics

Ok, before I forget, I searched all over the net for a "recommended packing list for a one week trip to a tropical place" before we left. (As you may know. Did you notice that all of the google ads were coming up with solutions for "panic disorders"!) I found one in the back of a book in the Trailblazer series that reassured me that I could get by with a minimum of stuff to pack, but still didn't give me exactly what I was looking for. You know, that secret list that would give me everything I needed to do what I wanted to do and look good doing it. So for what it's worth, here's what worked for me:

My packing list:
flip flops (black- worn to airport, too)
tevas (for rugged terrain- black)
running shoes (not necessary if you don't run, or substitute a waterproof running shoe for both teva and running and save more space. If you plan to horseback ride or lava hike, be sure to take at least one covered shoe.)
hat- soft, packable (neutral tan color)
at least 2 swimsuits (mix and match is best- dark colors)
(I took 1 one piece suit for surfing- light blue print)
rashguard
board shorts
cotton shorts, knee length (dark brown)
2-3 cotton tissue t-shirts, short-sleeved (sea-blue, white, green)
1 loose fitting cotton t-shirt with surf logo (light blue)
1 light tissue cotton or performance t-shirt, long-sleeved (white)
cotton capri/pants (white)
knee-length comfy yoga shorts (black)
thigh-length comfy yoga shorts (black)
long-sleeved Indian-type cotton blouse (light blue)
long-sleeved sheer pretty print blouse/cover-up (green, brown, blue, tan)
sleeveless cotton yoga/athletic top (brown)
3 cotton camisoles (white, black, sea-blue)
(underwear, at least one pair for each day of the trip before wash day mid-way)
1 dark bra, 1 beige, 1 running bra
packable rain jacket (grass-green, super-light, packs to 2x4x5")
light wrap/sweater for the evening and the airplane (mine is bright blue)
1-2 pairs running socks
1 pair short black sockettes

My top five items:
-thin-strap black flip-flops with arch support (here's one source, mine are Reefs)
A little bit of arch support is crucial for day-to-day comfort. If the shoes are too spongy or thick, I also find that the rebound affects my knee injury. In Hawai'i, flip flops are appropriate for all but the most dressed-up affairs. I find thinner straps more versatile.
-knee-length, non-shiny yoga-type shorts (black)
-light-colored, long-sleeved Indian cotton blouse (light blue)
-reef-safe and UVA/UVB sunscreen
-at least two swimsuits (two-piece, mix and match)

What I wish I had:
Halter-style, good coverage beach/casual dress (maybe this one, maybe not, I wanted something soft and drapey)
Environmentally friendly mosquito repellant
Short skirt, wrinkle-proof (Prana makes this cool brown one.) It isn't really necessary with all of the other bottoms I brought, but I find I lean more towards pants and shorts, and sometimes I like to look a little more girly.
reef booties- easy to walk to rocky snorkel spots and comfy on the feet-- super dorky, though

What I brought that I didn't use:
2 pairs cotton shorts (light stone)
1 band-collar long-sleeved cotton shirt (white)
tan leather flip flops- these just weren't as comfortable as the black ones
printed cotton dress- wasn't very flattering on
nightgown

I wore a comfortable black cotton top with a light sweater (also black- travel can be dirty) and jeans for the drive to and from the airport, and I always bring a wrap of some kind because the plane gets cold. I take a structured purse/tote with a zippered middle pocket for the plane, and carry a small zippered wallet instead of a purse throughout the trip. When I don't wear shoes with socks to the airport, I bring little black sockies to slip on through security. These little sockies have also come in handy as indoor slippers and even reef booties to save my feet from fin rub blisters.

In general, the clothes I took were neutrals, with accents of light and dark blue and some green. My light long-sleeved tops were hip to fingertip length for rear coverage. Camisoles and undies or short yoga shorts double as jammies. Short yoga shorts went over suit bottoms to and from the beach.

I try to bridge temperatures by bringing light-colored, long-sleeved items and a few dark-colored, short-sleeved items, so that if it's a little chilly, the sun will warm me up, and if it's a little warm, I'll reflect the sun's rays and stay covered and cool. The temperature when we were in Hawai'i was very moderate, 70s to mid-80s, so I used the long-sleeved pieces more than I might have in hotter weather. The t-shirts I took were inexpensive tissue-tees, in colors that I think are flattering on me.

The only jewelry I took was my every day wear: silver hoops and a weighty silver choker with a white mother of pearl pendant.

On many days, I wore my swimsuit top throughout the day, so make sure yours is supportive and flattering, and take at least two so you'll always have a dry one. Big prints are more obvious than solids or narrow stripes if they show through a shirt or cover-up. I like a halter style that ties. If you're driving around the islands, you may change elevation and temperature, so I always threw the rain jacket, an extra layer, and the tevas or tennies in the car just in case.

Don't forget: sunglasses, sunscreen, music (airplane headphones if you have them from another trip), a good book for downtime. Waterproof bandaids and antibiotic ointment. Hand-sani.

Remember, when you are curious, compassionate and joyful, you look your best. (Thanks, Susan Sarandon for that quote.) Have a great trip, wherever you go!

Note 3/26/11: This trip was to the Big Island of Hawai'i, where the climate is much more diverse. For trips to other islands, research the climate tendencies of the side of the island you'll be visiting. For example, the Lahaina-side of Maui is much warmer, and you'll end up wearing more light colors, strappy dresses and thin cover-ups. You probably won't need your raincoat.

Happy Birthday Grandpa and Remembering Those Who Have Served

Today is my Grandfather's birthday! Happy Birthday, Grandpa!

Unexpected rain and snow, and a long, long day yesterday are keeping them at home today, but there will be cake for sure. Grandpa has always had a sweet tooth. A day without cake, or something sweet, is not a day at all! Even better with butter!

I wrote about my grandpa around this time last year, as he has always been involved in preparations for the annual Memorial Day service at his local cemetary. I think that post deserves a re-read today.

******

Yesterday, I heard this story from Susan about a plane trip she was on last week:

Just before departing from Chicago for Detroit, the plane's captain came out from the cabin and tucked his hat underneath his arm.

"Ladies and gentlemen, today we have the honor of transporting Staff Seargeant ____ to his final resting place in his home town of Detroit. Please join me in extending our deepest gratitude and condolences to his family, who are also with us on the plane in First Class. When we land, I would ask for your patience in remaining seated and allowing them to exit the plane first so that they may accompany their son."

When the plane landed in Detroit, there was not a sound as the family quietly deplaned. A military battalion came forward on the tarmac to receive the casket. The lines of soldiers in their pressed, gold-trimmed uniforms saluted in turn as it passed.

Every single passenger on the plane waited and watched, silently, many crying softly, as the family walked slowly, quietly along with the soldiers, their arms draped over one another's shoulders.

This took about a half an hour. Not one person complained, tried to make a cell phone call, or shuffled their luggage. Each and every passenger on the crowded flight waited quietly and reverently. All the whirling details of their lives stopped for just a short while, as they contemplated the sacrifice that this soldier and his family had made.

The captain returned to face the passengers, hat once again tucked under his arm. He thanked everyone for their patience and cooperation. Susan couldn't tell this story without once again being moved to tears by the sadness and tenderness of the scene: the quiet dignity of the family, the respect of the captain, and the hushed reverence of the people on the flight. We couldn't help crying with her. I still can't tell it without choking up.

On Memorial Day, for just a few minutes, put aside the little things that make up the day and consider our national "holiday" on the most personal level. Each life lost is a son, a father, a brother, a sister, a wife: a family grieving. Whatever the "reason" for a war, if there is one, whether it is just or unjust, whether it is for oil, or land, or power, brave people go to fight for their countries, their families and their homes. Some never see home again.

This day is for them.

The Post You've All Been Waiting For

Ok, vicarious vacationers, here it comes. I'll try to keep the descriptions brief. We had a very nice time, no one got a sunburn, and we ate lots of fresh, locally caught fish.

The volcano on the island of Hawai'i was going off, so we had lots of mellow, overcast days. They call it "vog" there- volcanic fog.

Sorry, no pictures of us surfing-- who would hold the camera? We had so much fun doing it that I am devising a plan to take surf lessons before the year is out. Somewhere warm...

My friend Kristin's husband Ken nailed it when they caught me buying mangos at Trader Joe's the day we got back: I am still in tropical denial. I bought a pineapple and some mangos that day, and I have only put on shoes other than flip-flops to go to the gym. I think by tomorrow I should be back to normal.

One of the many cool flowers and plants seen from the lanai of the house in Kealakekua, on the Big Island. Avocados practically dripped from the trees, pineapples ripened on their...um, pineapple bushes (?) and one day Mike found a just-fallen coconut in the yard, husked it, cracked it, and we shared the flesh and juice. Brightly-colored geckos hid in the cracks in the deck, coming out to sun in the afternoon. Breakfast and a couple of dinners were eaten on the lanai, surrounded by the rainforest.


Sign and tiki from Miloli'i, "the last Hawai'ian fishing village" which was the subject of an Israel Kamakawiwo'ole song. The tin-roofed town sits on the blackened rock of a lava flow. Mike and I drove down to see the beach on a Sunday, and families were having barbecues at home. We felt like stupid tourists, intruding on their privacy ("Excuse me, but can you tell me where the nearest Starrrrbucks is?) so we drove quietly out.

How teeny is this gecko? Soooo teeny! Just thinking about him makes me talk in a tiny voice.


Mmmm. Mmmm. Poke! This is my absolute favorite thing to eat when I am in Hawai'i. Raw ahi, green onion, soy and seaweed. I like the cucumber and white onion variety best, but the fish above was particularly fresh and beautiful.

My, that's a smoking caldera you have there...


The radically diverse microclimates of Volcanoes National Park above.

This is a piko puka. ("Pee-koh poo-kah," try to get yer Hawai'ian on.) Piko= "umbilical cord" and puka= "hole". (People who remember the 80s: puka shells are little shells that have holes in them. Worn by that curly-haired guy from Eight is Enough, and Leif Garrett.) The Hawai'ians believe(d) that the root, or the soul of the person, otherwise known as the umbilical cord, should rest in a special place in order for their offspring to have a fortunate, or long, or good life, so they would trek way, way up on this mountain to a field of flat lava rocks called Pu'uloa, which is now inside Volcanoes National Park, to carve out a special little spot for each one. I didn't get whether this was for the whole umbilical cord, or just the little black bellybutton thing (ew!) that falls off after the baby has fully set and dried.

Each and every hole was carved with another little rock. Some of them are circles within circles, others are in the shapes of animals with circles or dots inside them, and others are just patterns of lines and circles, made by a family, or even generations of a family. There are 23,000 petroglyphs at Pu'uloa, and 16, 000 of them are piko pukas. Sixteen-thousand babies. Sixteen-thousand bellybuttons is a lot of bellybuttons. It's sort of a nice thought though, that the parents would go to all that trouble to make sure their kid got off to a good start.

Big beach, big toes. This is at Big Beach, on Maui, just around the corner from Little Beach, where most people wear no clothes. After a tiger shark bit someone last year at Makena beach, right up the road, I'm less willing to let my freak flag fly in the water over there.

Ahhh, our favorite beach. The view from our lanai at Napili Bay. (When you go to Hawai'i, not only do you have to spell Hawai'i with an okina in it, but you are also required to say lanai a lot. If you fail to say lanai enough, you are sacrificed at a luau.) This is a great little beach, though it can get crowded. I can still feel my feet in the sand and hear the ocean's rhythmic hiss. Aloha!

Some Pictures to Tide You Over While I'm Gone

Tide? What the hell does that mean, anyway? Remind me to post recipes for tzatziki and white bean dip when I get back.

One Week, One Bag

Ah, the joy of packing. Here's what I know: 1) I will attempt to create a multitude of outfit possibilities a la Glamour magazine, and 2) I will end up wearing less than a third of what I take, not including bathing suits.

I think about the features I've seen in magazines over the years about how to look fabulous on a week's vacation wearing only what you can stuff in a carry-on-- and can't remember a word. I pack demure, light-colored, long-sleeved skin-savers, crisp capris and carefree scarves (ok, maybe not "carefree" scarves), and within three days in the heat and humidity, I am strapless, sleeveless, and pants-legless, going to the grocery store in a swimsuit, cotton dress and flip-flops. And that's how I spend the remainder of my vacation. Calmer, tanner (sorry to Iga, and to my face) and less worried about how far from the mark of beach beauty I may be. As long as I stay far away from mirrors and any plate glass windows lurking near the scorching sidewalks, I'm good.

So I start out with oh, a pair of shorts, three light overshirts, a couple of t-shirts, five pairs of underwear, two bras and three swimsuits. Two pairs of socks. Running shoes and two pairs of flip-flops. Tevas. (Almost forgot those!) That covers strolling, hiking, and running, as well as walking on rocks to get to a snorkel (snorkle? snorgle? blbbblpp?) spot. Rash guards for swimming and surfing. Paddling/surf shorts for kayaking and surfing. A sweater or wrap for chilly evenings. (All 30 minutes of it.) Oh, then what if my pedicure chips? Nail polish. What if I get a sunburn? Aloe. Lotion. And on and on.

And then I ran out of time and had to go to bed because I had to get up at four in the morning. Don't hate me because I am going on vacation.

Here are some people who are better packers than I am: One Bag One World,
Pack light and happy

In honor of Mothers' Day: If famous people had had Jewish mothers.

Happy Mothers Day MOM, GRANDMA, Kristin, Karen, Tani, Tyla, Angela, Seena, Ann, Enza, Jen, Heather, Ali and anyone who in my bleary-eyed haste I have forgotten (forgive me!). You are all an inspiration to me. Keep fighting the good fight.

Aloha!

Holy moly, I can't believe it's May already. May 4, in fact. I am SO sorry for being a lax poster. Have I been busy? Yes, I suppose. The last week just went by so FAST.

We are leaving on Friday for Hawai'i to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. We try to go on a trip every year, so it's the same thing we did last year on our 9th anniversary, with a few changes. This time we are checking out the Big Island, which we've never been to, and trying out an inter-island flight. We had a bit of a scare a couple weeks ago when Aloha Airlines went bankrupt and we lost all of our reservations, but we managed to put the trip back together and stay on schedule on Hawai'ian. Snagged the last two seats on at least one flight.

The shopping is done, lodging arrangements are made, cars are rented. Swimsuits, check. Sandals, check. Hat, check. Sunscreen has been purchased. We've been trying to locate "reef safe" sunscreen for sale here, but it looks like we'll have to buy it there. We've used Skin Deep, the Environmental Working Group's cosmetics database, to try to find the least toxic options for lotions and bug repellants, too. Looking good.

I swear this time I'm going to pack light, calculating how many things I need to bring for half the trip, with a trip to the washing machine in the middle. Usually, I pack my bag a couple of days before and then spend the next 48 hours stuffing miscellaneous items into all of the crevices as I encounter them, so that in the end my suitcase requires the sit-on treatment to be zipped shut and would explode like a joke can of snakes if one of the fragile zippers failed. I really am going to try to do better this time. I mean, how many t-shirts and pairs of shorts do I actually wear when I'm there? I pick my favorites and the rest of the stuff hangs in the closet. If only I could know in advance what I was going to feel like wearing the most. I suppose I could narrow the choices of what I feel like wearing by eliminating half of it.

The hardest part is always what to wear on the plane, and how to make that work. We arrive at the San Francisco airport at some ungodly hour, in the cold and fog, and walk to a bus with our luggage, requiring pants, shoes and jackets. We then get into a freezing airplane and arrive five hours later in Honolulu, sit an hour and land in Kona 30 minutes after re-loading, where it will be a humid 80 degrees. I always want to be comfortable and also look respectable enough that I stand a chance of being bumped to first class should the need arise. But I don't think I ever quite manage. Maybe I should buy a pink velour tracksuit and some giant sunglasses?

You know, I'm a bit insecure about writing right now, because I came across a book titled, No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog and it made me nervous. (I guess this guy at rickyslunch.com hasn't read it. And he's pretty damn funny.) I do write about what I have for lunch, and also sometimes breakfast. Are you bored? In case you were curious, the second hemp protein powder smoothie was pretty good. (Apparently it's the "gold standard of plant protein"!) So good I bought a whole container, and I'm telling you, if I have that for breakfast, it lasts right up to lunch and I feel energetic and not hungry. My smoothie is usually yogurt, soy or non-fat milk, frozen strawberries, and this new stuff. I feel like I'm putting good, healthy fuel in me. Am I boring you?

I've been lagging on This Week in The Garden posts and Vegetable of the Week this year. The garden has exploded with flowers. The trumpet vines are going, the pink dogwood is done and the white ones are budding up and getting ready. There are lilies and irises and azaleas like crazy. You are not getting any pictures because I set the camera to take really giant pictures so that I can blow them up, and I needed to consolidate. Until that was done, I was reluctant to add to the load dragging down my processing speed. I have a boatload of pictures on my computer. A Titanic-load.

Oh look! Abbie has updated the appearance of her blog! They grow up so fast-- pretty soon she'll have flash animations and her own google ads. This is the kind of stuff I'm talking about. If you get busy, if you don't blog, if you don't sit down at the computer and read gofugyourself and neatorama and dooce and icanhascheezeburger every day you will get behind and have to catch up. Which leaves you staring out the window over the screen at the waning light, wondering where all your garden photographing hours have gone. Then in three days you will have to go on vacation and there will be no hope for you. Am I boring you?

Go here: Make Magazine

Maybe the Next One Will Be Just Right

Ok, this morning's protein powder experiment was much better than yesterday's. Still a greenish-gray color, even without the blueberries. Still slightly medicinal, despite the fact that it's organic. This one was even a little bit sand-y. (Tons of fiber!) But the flavor was much, much better than that nasty stuff yesterday. Wish me luck tomorrow. Last one. After that, I think I'm going to go back to my 1/2 cup of non-fat yogurt. I contemplated blending up chunks of tofu, but that doesn't sound remotely tasty.

Why am I doing this? I suppose I'm sort of flailing for a miracle diet. I know I'm not going to go to sleep a frogette and wake up a princess-- unless someone kidnaps me for surprise anniversary liposuction (do they have that??!). But I still feel like I've got to give it one last try.

And then, when I get back, I'm going to take a good hard look at why my recipe journal for the last three years is full of little squares that say "yogurt, nf milk, flax berries, 250 calories," "1 egg, 1 toast, 1 coffee, 225 calories," and yet I weigh exactly the same. Instead of complaining about it, I'm going to do something, and if I'm going to lean back and just enjoy life, I'm going to quit complaining about it. I don't want to be one of those people who is always on one diet or another and always seems to stay the same weight anyway. I don't think anyone currently in my life thinks of me as a chronic dieter. That said, I'm on my way to the gym.

Rain, Rain...

It's raining today. This is pretty typical for us, a long stretch of almost-summer temperatures that reminds us just how hot it's going to get soon, and then a weeks-long dip right down to the frost level just as the tender new leaves and baby grape flowers are reaching out from the vines. Just cold enough to require the use of vineyard fans and heaters. And then we get the obligatory sprinkling of spring rain.

Thank goodness for a well-insulated house, both from the cold, and from the pre-dawn helicopter sounds of the fans. Mike is especially grateful, as he was the one who had to crawl from his warm bed in the frozen darkness to start up those fans at the other property.

I mind the rain just a little bit because I don't like to swim as much in the rain as the sun, but there are plenty of other things to do at home and at the gym. I've got some strawberry-almond-coconut granola baking in the oven right now. Smells fantastic.

I picked up a few different types of protein powder packets at Whole Foods yesterday to try to get a little more protein in the morning. This morning I tried this whey-based protein powder to add to my regular morning smoothie. The color, combined with the blueberries and strawberries that I usually add, was an unappealing greenish-gray. And oh my gosh, the flavor was VILE. The sweetener (stevia?) that they used was sweet at first taste, but the aftertaste made me grimace for minutes afterwards. Medicinal. Gross. Surprisingly, the selection of organic protein powders was very limited there. I'll try one of the two hemp-based packets (reluctantly) tomorrow. I used to pick up an organic pure soybean powder at Trader Joe's that I felt ok about since it was organic and soybeans were the only ingredient. I'll try that when I'm done with these.

In spite of the rain, and the bad taste in my mouth, today is a great day. Because today I am getting my computer back. I have been working on the "craptop"-- an old Dell Latitude (isn't that French for "the attitude"?) still running Windows 2000, while the G5 was in for upgrades and a superdrive replacement. I've remained platform bilingual throughout my career, so it's no trouble for me to pick up a pc or a Mac and just start working. But this screen is so tiny. And it doesn't really offer the portability of a laptop at this point, because the battery won't charge fully, so it just sits here on the desk. I do like the snap of the keyboard keys. The craptop is good for one thing, and that is testing PowerPoint presentations that I create on the Mac. I use it to troubleshoot so that I can deliver problem-free presentations.

On Sunday, I went with my mom and 11-year-old nephew to Berkeley, to celebrate his birthday and visit the Lawrence Hall of Science, a childhood favorite of mine. I've been wanting to go back forever. LHS has hardly changed in 30 years. This is not necessarily a good thing. It is frozen in time, and apparently in budget. A popular destination for local schoolchildren, who are led through demonstrations and math games, it was fairly deserted and spare on a Sunday afternoon. I don't want to dissuade people from going, because they clearly need the funds, but I wouldn't say that it's the most exciting place to be on a Sunday. It is a place to go with little people, where they can touch things and climb on things. If you live nearby, and need something to do, it is something to do.

I remembered being dazzled by all of the animals in the Biology Lab at nine, as our class peered into tank after tank, led by the perky lab staff, learning about and petting each and every creature. I loved reptiles and amphibians. And crustaceans. And mammals- especially the rats. They used to have a three-level ratquarium with at least a dozen rats in it that you were allowed to take out and hold. The ratquarium is still there, but the extended rat family has moved to the suburbs. Mama and Papa rat watch TV by themselves in the evening and have hobbies to keep them busy when they're not napping. The dwelling sits in a quiet corner downstairs across from the math puzzles and around the corner from the cockroach tank, inexplicably cordoned off like a precious museum bust. The crayfish tank was another highlight. I remember it as a sparkling man-made creek with glass sides, running the entire length of one wall. The crayfish lived in a naturalistic environment, pumped water creating a burbling current across shiny multicolored river rocks from one end of the tank to the other. This time, it took us a while to locate the tiny crawdads, hiding under (intentionally) broken flowerpots in a plexiglass tank full of large goldfish.

I think everything seemed so big and so cool because I was so small. Maybe everything seemed so big and so cool because there was more of it then. Or because the volunteers were a little less... bland back then than they were on Sunday. We did see a cool Bearded Dragon (I'll post a picture later when my computer is back online), an Axotl named Goldilocks, and we petted a chinchilla that was so soft you almost couldn't tell you were touching him. My nephew and I worked on a wooden puzzle together that we thought was really fun, and played a game of tossing colored sticks. He made a paper helicopter. I think we enjoyed spending the time together as much as anything else. He's a nice boy, very easy going. Next time maybe I'll take him to the comic book shop.

The Second Rule of Self-Effacement Spanish

Dialogue from a dream

I'm driving in a car with my niece Kayleigh, after visiting a young friend of ours, Laura, whom I babysat when I was a teenager. Kayleigh is pretty (which she is) and wearing pink lip-gloss.

So how is Laura doing?

Kayleigh laughs.

I know, I'm pouncing on you in the car, where you can't get away, sorry.

It's ok.

It's just, I didn't know things were that bad. If I had known that she wasn't doing well, I would have wanted to be there for her.

Well, it's like The Second Rule of Self-Effacement Spanish.

The what? (I've always meant to learn more Spanish, I think.)

Whatever, it doesn't matter, The Second Rule of Self-Effacement Spanish: "The void creates the chaos."

That makes me feel very sad, I say, and raise my cupped hand to hide the ugly shape of my mouth as I start to cry.

It doesn't matter, she says in a matter-of-fact, slightly joking way, to try to make me feel better. We're all going to die in fifty years anyway, right?

I just wanted... I can't say it through the tears, but I'm thinking, I just wanted to lead a good life, to do the best I could. It didn't occur to me that my conscious absence was part of why things went so badly.