Today's letter is X . For more X posts, please click here . Xenophile: A person who likes foreign people and things. Xenophobe: A person who is very afraid, for no sane reason, of anything foreign and, in particular, of people of foreign origin. These two words are right next to each other in the dictionary, at least in mine it is. Anybody else see the irony in that? Xenophobe coming after xenophile , that is. Seeing the two words together made me think of a few things: My uncle and aunt lived in California but they couldn't get married there. I don't remember what year it was, but, it was before the state anti-miscegenation law was repealed in 1948. They had to travel to another state to tie the knot. I wonder if going back home was their honeymoon. When I was in high school, 40 years ago, a friend told me that he didn't think he was going to like me because he had heard some ranchers talk about my brother and me. One of the ranchers had said something like: "Tho

There have been years where I've missed spring completely. I often started writing projects in late autumn or early winter that would have summer deadlines. I left the house mostly to go grocery shopping, run errands, and attend engagements. Not until May would I realize that I did it again. No spring. Sigh. The month of March is one of my favorite months. To me, March is the essence of spring. Plants giggle "Hello" as they pop up through the ground. Trees sing with blossoms and new leaves. California poppies, blue larkspurs, and other crazily colorful wildflowers smile above expansive fields of grass. The yellow mustard laughs through the orchards. The hillsides shout green, green, green. It was easy for me to forget when I lived in city settings with miles of concrete and canyons of buildings. And, as my freelance career took off, the rides and walks into nature became far and few. It's much differently now since the husband and I have moved to the town where I grew

Today's letter is V . For more V posts, please click here . "When I'm gone, you take care of your mother," the daddy suddenly said to me one evening. He did not wait for my response. He knew I would promise. I was in my late 20s. At the time, the mama and I still clashed, mostly about what my life should be. At the time, I really didn't think I could ever live with her again. Several days was about all I could handle being around her. Thirty years later, the husband and I have been living with the Mama for over seven years now.  It took at least the first four years for each of us to get the hang of starting to live together. That's life.  Nothing wrong with that. The almost 90-year old Mama has slowed down. But only some. When she gets it in her head that she wants something done, she wants it done pronto, and she wants to do it by herself. Usually, she comes up with these projects while we're away.  For instance, one morning she asked that we help

Today's letter is U . For more U posts, please click here . This message is strong in my head and heart today. So, I shall leave it to Aesop and the Brotherhood of Man to deliver it.  The Four Oxen and the Lion by Aesop translated by George Fyler Townsend ( Public Domain Translation of Aesop's Fables Selections) A Lion used to prowl about a field in which Four Oxen used to dwell. Many a time he tried to attack them; but whenever he came near they turned their tails to one another, so that whichever way he approached them he was met by the horns of one of them. At last, however, they fell a-quarrelling among themselves, and each went off to pasture alone in a separate corner of the field. Then the Lion attacked them one by one and soon made an end of all four. United we stand, divided we fall.  

Today's letter is T . For more T posts, please click here . As some of you dear readers know, on the 23rd of each month, the husband and I run away from home and office to become tourists, adventurers, and slackers for the moment. For February's special date, we headed over to Point Lobos State Natural Reserve on the Monterey Peninsula, just south of Carmel by the Sea. Neither of us had ever been there. We saw quite a lot in the two short hikes that we did.  I took 90 photos, more or less. No, no. Don't groan or gasp. I'm not going to post them all. Only a few. Just to tease you. If you ever make it to Monterey, you'll have to go see Pt. Lobos for yourself. It's well worth it. Pt. Lobos was established to protect the Monterey Cypress trees. Pt. Lobos is one of the only two cypress tree reserves in the world. See how flat they get. The husband says it's because of the wind. This little fellow sat patiently for his photo to be taken. It wasn't till

Today's letter is S . For more S posts, please click here. Congratulations are in order.  Maybe. I am a new multi-millionaire. Rather, I would be a multi-millionaire if I respond to these e-mails. Morgan David & Associates from Bristol England stated I am the beneficiary of over 8 million pounds. The firm broke the delicate news about an unknown patron with  "Dear Sir/Madam." Chan from China, a former investment banker, wrote that his former employers have asked him to contact me and let me know that if I do not accept $15.7 million dollars from an American account, they will keep the money forever.  All I need to do is give them my phone number and date of birth. Mr. Oyi John, of the Federal High Court of Nigeria, wrote that I must prove I am not dead. Otherwise, someone named Mr. Jones McBolt will transfer $2.5 million from my account into his. There is a hitch. How shall I prove that I am the one and only living Charbel Aad? Mrs. Anthonia Emma h

Today's letter is R . For more R posts, please click here . I'm sure this happens to you. You're walking along in the real outdoors. You know the type—where the landscaping was done by Mother Nature. Your being gets attuned with the reality of what's around you. The sky, the topography, the fauna, the flora. Beautiful, oh, so beautiful. Then, maybe you move your head to the left or right. Or, perhaps a slight change in lighting occurs. Something shifts in some weird way that suddenly the natural scene takes on a different reality. Do you see a dead stump or a creepy figure with a rodent crawling up his body? Do you see a small grove of old oak trees, or a battle between foes just horribly ended? Ah, maybe the reality is: You need to get more sleep. Or, maybe the mama's sense is right: "You have too much imagination."

Today's letter is Q . For more Q posts, click here . A couple of letters ago, O to be exact , I griped about the high medical bills we got for the 10 stitches in the husband's finger at our local emergency department. They amounted to over $3,000 for about 45 minutes of medical attention. And, we were there for five hours. The doctor's bill was over $1,600. Man! I thought it would be about $300. After getting the doctor's bill, we questioned all the charges, including the hospital's, which we had already paid. I talked with the emergency department director, who after trying to feed me the corporate line finally listened and understood my complaint. She became outraged at how much the emergency medical service, with which the hospital contracts, was charging. She told me that if we write a letter, she'd be sure to investigate our case. So, that's what we did. We did our homework and learned that the contractor pays temporary emergency doctors who work at

Today's letter is P . Pinakbet.   What a chicken says when it wants to gamble? Nope. Pinakbet. An Ilocano dish with eggplant, bittermelon, tomatoes, and long beans? Yep, that's it. If I happen to have kabocha squash and/or okra, I'll throw some into the mix, too. Depending on my mood, I'll make it with or without pork. On rare occasions, I'll go classic and add a bit of bagoong (fermented, finely ground fish or shrimp). I say rare because that stuff is very salty. Click here for a photo of what pinakbet looks like. How do you pronounce pinakbet? I say pin-auk-bit .  But, you must realize that I don't have an Ilocano accent. Never had. Pinakbet is one of my favorite dishes. When I was growing up, the mama cooked it often during the summer. Except for the onions and garlic, all the vegetables for the dish were freshly picked out of the daddy's garden. I have yet to eat a version that has topped or even come close to the mama's.  And, now, the mama's

Brrrrrrrrrrrr. Temperatures have been dipping into the 30s and 40s the past month. Ha! So what! says this blooming rose in the Mama's garden. Head over to Alphabe-Thursday , hosted by Jenny Matlock, to read other N posts.

Today's letter is "M." Exactly a year ago the husband and I shaved our hair completely off to see how long it would grow in one year. Our experiment is officially over.  The husband says our hair grew about six inches. The husband (obviously!). . . . . .and me—Su- sieee ! Mac (also quite obviously!) For the last two months or so, the husband has received comments about how he looks like ZZ Top. Maybe. No comments for me. At least not to my face. I'd say I look like I'm in need for a hair cut. The overgrown bangs are driving me nuts, big time. "Will we shave it again?" ask our friends. We don't know. The husband is wondering how long it would take for his beard to grow to the middle of his tummy. I liked my bald look. It was easy to handle. But if I keep it growing, I might just dye it either an Anne Shirley carrot-top red or the golden brown of a lion's mane. We shall see. Today also marks a milestone for This and That. Here and There. Now, Some

Today letter is "W." This is what winter looks like in my part of the world. These are the low mountains of the Diablo Range that makes up the eastern border of my town and county. (Check out my other blog, Take 25 to Hollister , if you'd like to know more about my town.) We've had a few rainy days during the last few weeks, which to me means that everything is starting to get green again. Yes, I'm spoiled. Winter in my area is mild compared to the Sierras, the Midwest, New England, Alaska, Europe, and other places that get lots and lots of snow, and sometimes blizzards. I really can't imagine living a full winter in such cold. Now and then, snow covers the mountain tops around us, but it melts within a few hours once the sun comes out.  In good years, our winters are cold enough to make the fruit tree orchards in our area happy. The good years also give us lots of rain to fill our reservoirs. This looks like it could be one of those good years. We can only

Yesterday, I found the joy of Christmas  at a local holiday bazaar. For the last 20 or so years, the group of dedicated hospital volunteers in my town have sponsored this event. The husband and I happened to already be out and about, otherwise I doubt we would've gone. I am so glad we did drop by. The bazaar got me into the Christmas spirit. There were only a few vendors, but the place was full of cheer and goodwill from the vendors, the hospital volunteers, and the patrons.  The husband and I enjoyed walking around and looking at the knitted, crocheted, and other crafted items. You could tell that each item was made by someone who took care and had pride for having done a work well done. One table was full of tiny wooden animals and figurines. As we walked up to it,  an elderly man came up to me and gifted me with a mini doll ornament. He turned to the husband and said, "You look kind of fishy." Then he presented the husband with a mini fish ornament. What a charmer the

The photographer wishes to thank the husband for agreeing to pose at the given moments and allowing her to post the following photos that exemplify the spirit of idiosyncratic iconoclasts. (Whew! What a sentence of big formal words. That is, for me.) Want to meet the husband? Click over to Arrmac's Blog ! Want to check out more "I is for..." posts. Head over to Alphabe-Thursday , hosted by Jenny Matlock.

Asking for help can be so difficult for some people. The mama, for instance. The nearly-90-year-old woman  is stubborn about asking me to help her with the harder chores in the garden. But, she gladly takes the help, if I happen to give it without asking, "Do you need help?" It's taken me awhile to recognize how silly that question is.  It's similar to asking a visitor if she would like something to drink. According to the Mama, you don't ask, you just serve the drink. So, I've learned to keep my eyes and ears open to what's going on when she's outside. For instance, when I hear the sound of metal scraping against cement, I head outside to see what the Mama is doing. And, usually she has set up the ladder against one of her many trees to pick some fruits or prune tree branches. "Here, let me do it," I say, as I shove my feet into my shoes. "I can do it," she says, as she's about to climb the ladder. We spar back and forth a coup

San Francisco Giants, that is. Yay, Giants! I admit it. I jumped onto the bandwagon when the Giants won the first game of the National League play-offs. I watched some of the second game, they lost. I missed the third game, they won. I saw a bit of the fourth game, they lost. I decided I was a jinx. So, I stopped watching. I didn't even read Facebook updates on how they were doing, and just read the headlines the next day. Since I stopped paying attention to baseball after the 1995 baseball strike, I had to show my loyalty to the Giants by not watching them win the NL pennant and the World Series championship. Boy, did I miss some good baseball! Between 1986 and the baseball strike, I was a Giants fanatic. Those were great years. Roger Craig was the "Hummmm, baby" manager. What a crew he had.  Together, Craig and team eventually worked their magic to play against the Oakland A's in the 1989 World Series. Unfortunately that series played second fiddle to the 7.0 Loma P

Not KFC.  Not Starbucks nor 24 Hour Fitness Center. Franchise, a s in the right to vote.  Take advantage of your right as a U.S. citizen.  Tuesday, November 2, 2010. Just saying.  Today being Thursday means I'm playing in Alphabe-Thursday , a meme hosted by Jenny Matlock at Off On My Tangent . Click here to check what other F's are out there in the virtual world today.  Absolutely, after you watch and listen to the Beatles. Of course.