Monday, March 20, 2017

First Day of Spring 2017

The Mama's purple daisies.
Molly the Cat was right (See yesterday's post).

Primavera. Earrach. Jaro. Molla. Musum semi. Spring!

Our first late afternoon of Spring began with a gentle rain. I got a few plants and a bunch of seeds into the ground just in time. Hurrah!

Here's a little bit of what Spring looks like around our house.

Asian pear blossom.

Volunteer lupine.

Domesticated mustard (not at all tasty like wild mustard).

Check out what's going on with other bloggers around the world at Our World Tuesday. Here's the link. Happy Spring, One and All!




Sunday, March 19, 2017

Spring is Around the Corner


"I'm going around the corner," said Molly. "That's where I'll find Spring."

Molly and I are linking up with All Seasons, a fun weekly meme hosted by Jesh who blogs at Artworks from JeshSTG. Click here to check out her blog and the meme.


Friday, March 17, 2017

Random Memory #1: Heading Home


I spied with my little eye a wife trimming hairs out of her husband's nostrils in front of the Hotel that once was on the corner of Sutter and Powell Streets in San Francisco. I was sitting on the #2 Sutter bus heading westerly home on a sunny day.

Hahahaha! This 30+ year mental image still gets me laughing.

The couple was probably in their late 50s and early 60s. I pegged them for tourists, but they could've been native-born San Franciscans. I simply loved how they were comfortable with each other.

I like to think the Husband and I are comfortable old farts like that couple was.

And, yes. I've trimmed the Husband's nose hairs. But only in the privacy of our home and only when I cut his curly locks and bristly (not grizzly) beard. So far.


Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Just.


When I saw the episode of Grace and Frankie, an original Netflix series starring Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin, in which Frankie (Lily) mentions her diary and Grace (Jane) responds with "Your bullshit diary where you write in the air?", I thought that's how I've mostly been blogging the last 11 months. Unlike Frankie, I mentally write the words.

Have you seen Grace and Frankie by the way? In a nutshell it's about two vibrant women in their 70s who suddenly become roommates because their husbands announced they are gay, been having a secret relationship with each other for years, and want a divorce from Grace and Frankie because so that they can married. A mouthful, huh?

The series revolve around Grace and Frankie coming to terms with suddenly being on their own after 30-40 years of marriage. It's also about the women becoming each other's main support, although they don't think much of each other's life style. Grace is an uptight former CEO of her own company while Frankie is an old hippie artist. There are also secondary stories about Bob (Grace's husband played by Martin Sheen) and Saul (Frankie's ex played by Sam Waterston), as well as the adult children of Grace and Bob and Frankie and Saul.  Another mouthful!

I love this show. The storyline. The subject matter—after all, how many TV shows feature older people in a not-so-schmaltzy way. The cast, wowza! One of the creators of the show is Marta Kauffman who also co-created Friends. Quality! And, lots of strong writing, I must add.

Okay. Enough about this show before I distract myself from my original intention of today's blog. If you want to know more about the series, check out the Grace and Frankie website or the Wikipedia article about the series.

My original intention? I began this post on Sunday. Today is Wednesday.

My original intention?

Focus, focus, Susie, my darling dear.

My original intention?

Just—in all senses of just—to let me know that I need to express. . .to articulate. . .to humor. . .to feel out loud what's inside my soul.

Just often sad.

That shall pass.

And, while it is passing, I shall do my best to write my thoughts via the keyboard rather than in the air.


It's ABC Wednesday. This was my J post. Click here to please check out other participants. Thank you ABCW Team!

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

The Ilocano Tribe

Su-sieee! Mac, 1985.
It's the letter I at ABC Wednesday. My contribution is an edited post that I originally published on April 10, 2013. To check out ABCW posts from bloggers around the world, please click here. Thanks ABCW Team!
In 1985, I spent several days camping in Havasu Canyon with the First Husband-to-be. Havasu Canyon, known for its gorgeous waterfalls that run down to the Colorado River, lies just outside of the western border of the Grand Canyon National Park. We stayed at the Havasu campground on the Havasupai Indian Reservation run by the Havasupai Tribe. (I have no idea if that's how it is today.)

Havasupai means people of the green blue water. And, yes, the pools of water were a spectacular green blue color when we were there.

To get to the campground back then, you either flew in on a helicopter or hiked the winding 10-mile trail down to the canyon floor.

I was (and still am) a slow walker, so the First Husband-to-be got to the campground office before me. The reservation was under my name so he and the office manager patiently waited for me to get there. The two men were talking when I entered the office. I immediately recognized the manager's voice. I had spoken to him over the phone a month earlier.

"Can you tell me if it will rain in April there?" I had asked.

"It's hard to say," the office manager had answered.

"Does it usually rain in April?" I had rephrased my question, thinking he didn't understand that I wanted a general idea of what the weather was like that time of year.

"Sometimes it rains. Sometimes it doesn't rain."

I had hung up from our conversation rather flustered. Years later, I realized how silly it was to ask about weather that has yet to happen.

"Hello," I said to the office manager, noticing that he looked at me oddly. I thought maybe I had something on my face.

Not much of a small talker, I got to the point. Pulling out my wallet, I asked, "How much do we pay?"

"Nothing," he said.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

"You don't have a camping fee anymore?"

"For you, it's free."

"Free? Okay. Thank you."

"What tribe are you from?"

"Tribe?" I hesitated. The First Husband-to-be said later that he hoped I'd say 'The Ilocano tribe'.

"Uhm, I don't belong to any tribe. My parents are from the Philippines. They're Ilocanos."

The office manager looked disappointed.

"I don't mind paying," I said.

"That's okay," he said, shrugging. "We're all the same."

Thursday, March 2, 2017

Hole.


Is a hole only round? Can't it be oval, triangular, hectagonal, or another shape?

Must a hole be whole? A whole hole. Couldn't it be partial?

Is a hole always black? Not green? Purple? Rainbow? If it's white, could we see it?

Could a hole by holey? We just can't see the multiple holes in a hole.

Finally, could there be such a thing as a holy, holey whole hole?


Now that you've had your fill of holes, head over to ABC Wednesday, where I've parked my link. It's a fun weekly meme with wonderful bloggers from around the world. Thanks, ABCW team, for hosting the letter H.