I Love a Parade!!!

When I was a kid, The Parade* was a big deal. I was fortunate enough to be able to play in a school band starting in the fifth grade, and it was tough for me to choose between learning the very melodious french horn or playing the drums so I could make other hearts pound with my cadence. I chose percussion, although I later spent a summer trying to learn the horn. (One upperclassman had said I'd get beaten up if I showed up to play drums in the high school band.)

 

These assorted photos are a little memento of three hours spent standing on the sidewalk with a good friend. Since I like to keep my blog semi-anonymous, the images are jumbled and blurred and tiny. However, in honor of my trombone-playing brothers and *that* high school, I included a photo of the back of their mascot's head in this collage. The rest of the photos are either percussion-related or some other special interest.

 

 

There's a little more to the story. My friend had to listen to my rants about how they've changed the parade route (no more waiting for the train crossing), no shoes could be worse for your feet than discount-chain deck shoes, no uniform could be uglier than my band's, and no drums these days are as heavy and ungainly as those I carried. And it was uphill both ways, in the snow, in 90-degree weather, with lots of reminders that there were mounted units ahead of us. That's how it was, back in the day.


*Actually, there are four parades in this neck of the woods. All on the same day, all celebrating the gloriousness of daffodils and the joys of a capitalist economy.

And now for a P.S.
The photo collage that looked so good on my screen was apparently too good to load, so it had to be replaced with a few individual shots. Those shots were hand-pasted into the text, taking much time and effort because they kept covering bits of said text. Argh! Since I'm doing this postscript, I'd like to add that my favorite band uniforms are shown in the last drum line photo. The school's mascot is a logger, and the band gets to wear tan Carhartts, work shirts, and orange suspenders! Too cool for words!

Polo's New Tricks

Polo pup has a few things in common with his grand-sister Blackie. He loves people food. He loves to be outside. He's good at taking naps after eating and being outside. How's that for a repertoire? Unfortunately, that's only the beginning.

I've mentioned before that Polo likes to solve problems. When he's restless but has to stay indoors, I put a dog biscuit inside his rubber Kong toy. That used to keep him occupied for quite a while, but now it only lasts about five minutes. One of his best solutions for getting the biscuit out is to drop the Kong down our stairs and let it bounce... bounce... bounce... over and over, until the treat falls out. Now I cram two biscuits inside, thereby increasing the degree of difficulty. That might earn me ten to fifteen minutes of peace.

When he's outside, Polo makes up all kinds of doggy games for himself. One of my favorites is run-back-and-forth-across-the-yard-as-fast-as-you-can. He's a white streak racing hither and yon, clomping across the deck, from one corner of the yard to another. Good thing we have such a big back yard.

Another favorite outdoor activity is digging. (Um, this is his favorite, not mine.) So far, it's a series of small holes randomly arranged around the deck. We call them ankle-breakers. I'm sure Son #3 will have a name for them when he tries to mow back there.

Yesterday, I discovered Polo's newest yard project. It's been windy here this week, and the tarp on our neighbor's broken car must have blown against our fence. You know, the chain-link fence that NOW keeps the dog in our yard? Polo has pulled about six feet of tarp into our yard. Through the fence.



I tried to get Polo to pose with his prize accomplishment, but he was camera shy. If you look closely [and if this photo stays loaded] you can see his running-away paw in the lower left corner.

Yep, this is a dog with time on his, er, paws, and a brain suited for the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Too bad for us.

Photo Day on Campus

I spent the day at a major Division I university and found some of my favorite things...

cool architecture

pretty forsythia

a railroad hero

(I know I *should* rotate him, but it is April Fools Day, so he stays.)

hungry academics

earthquake retrofits

and a familiar face


I'd tell you more, but I'm preparing for another photo shoot this weekend. Gotta launder my batteries and charge my socks.

A Brush With Fame

Today I shook the hand of a rock star. Good, strong grip. Great eye contact. Friendly confidence as he said, "Hi, I'm --" Wait! I'll get to that in a minute.

Folks are sometimes surprised that we have musical groups booked in the library. Yes, a real concert, right there next to the magazine racks! The building wasn't designed for this kind of acoustic assault (and I mean that in the nicest way) but the performers make it work. The audiences are always appreciative of both the music and the up-close experience. That is, the audience who intended to be in the audience. (grins)

We have quite a range of musical styles represented in these performances, from bluegrass to classical to jazz to world music. Many of the concerts are aimed toward adults or families, but some are especially for young children.

The musician I met today has a background in commercial songwriting and performance. He's probably best known for his role as lead singer/songwriter for a quirky rock band that I had actually heard of before this event. (My lack of knowledge of all things pop culture is legendary.) It turns out that he also, uh, moonlights as a children's entertainer, and he has several CDs to his credit under this umbrella. His real fans know him as Chris Ballew, but he walked up to me this morning, stuck out his hand and said confidently,

"Hi, I'm Caspar Babypants."

And suddenly I have a craving for fresh peaches. Lots of them.

No More Fudging

Alternate title for this post:
Even Dumbed-Down Smart Phones Know Some Tricks

I got a Nokia E73 for Christmas, thanks to my son's bonus points. I wanted a smart phone because of the calendar and camera, but I refuse to buy a data plan. Hence, a dumbed-down smart phone. The camera is great, I love the qwerty keyboard, and the other features are mostly good. I'm still exploring and tinkering.

Today, I realized that there are GPS capabilities on the phone, even in its limited no-data state. Hmmm... And there's a trip odometer that shows distance, average speed, maximum speed, and elapsed time. Hey -- I could use this for walking!

The good news, after one trip, is that it works. The bad news? I can't record my mileage based on how tired I feel! If I use the GPS feature, I've got to believe the data it gives me. Today, I went a little farther than what I thought was the halfway point for a three mile walk. When I took out the phone, though, it said I wasn't there yet. I kept going until I hit 1.5 miles, then turned around. But when I got back to the car, the odometer was stuck on 2.9 miles rather than the full three miles (or more!) that I know I walked. Oh, well. My average speed was 2.8 miles per hour -- no surprise there. I've had a rotten cold with associated impediments for a month now, so anything is better than being home on the couch coughing. Although we made a couple of stops along the way, Polo and I were on the trail for 53 minutes. Not bad.

The real benefit of this GPS thing is that it feeds my competitive spirit. Now I'll have something to pit myself against! Even though I can't fudge my stats anymore, I'll be able to know for sure when I improve or surpass my last record. Yes, strive I will, because it's fun to compete with myself, and because I'm really tired of being totally out of shape.


**MONDAY UPDATE**

We were able to go out again today, on a different route and with no stopping to chat. Total 3.1 miles, average speed 3.7 mph, 50 minutes. Yay! And again I say, YAY!

The Next Time You Make Fish Head Soup...

...count the fish heads before and after serving.

The daughter of some friends is spending a term studying in Ghana, Africa, and writing occasional blog posts about her adventures. Anna has a heart for people, a yearning for justice, and a great sense of adventure. One little story in a longer, serious post tickled my funny bone and showed Anna's terrific ingenuity in exercising gracious discretion during a homestay.

Imagine you're visiting a private home in a far-away country. Although you are a vegetarian, your hosts serve a soup made with... fish heads. What would you do?

You can check out Anna's blog here. Then you'll understand why you might want to count your fish heads.

Currently on my Desktop

This is what's playing on my desktop these days. A while back, I had an opportunity to visit Tacoma's old Union Station. I love buildings, especially stately ones. The old train depot has been remade into a courthouse, and features works by glass artist Dale Chihuly. What a great combination!

This shot, which is nothing original, is taken near the center of the great room, looking straight up at the dome. Chihuly's chandelier is suspended from the ceiling and catches the light (and the eye) magnificently.

Polo's Biggest Issue

It's about time I wrote another post. Sorry it's been so long again. Sigh. That's life.

Anyway, I've discovered another major Polo problem. This one may trump his separation anxiety, because it's more serious, more insidious, and definitely more permanent. What is this awful flaw? He's smart. Way smart.

Remember that beautiful fence we installed last summer? Polo loves to be outside, loves to run wildly back and forth, loves to find new ways to get out of the yard and explore the neighborhood. Youngest son made some adjustments so Polo can't squeeze under the north side any more. But he's still getting out somewhere.

Polo can't be trusted to stay alone inside the house yet, either. He chews things, steals things, finds things, hides things. He's a pup.

The funniest thing I've seen him do, though, makes up for the bad stuff. He loves to solve problems. Twice now, I've watched him work and work to get a stray kibble out of his water bowl. He'll chase the floater all around the bowl, drinking and licking and changing position. It's hilarious! Even if he's hungry for his dinner, he'll wait to eat until he nabs that pesky bobbing kibble. So cute!

I've occasionally given him another little puzzle to solve. The Kong toy is designed with a hollow center, in order to hide treats inside. But it's too easy to simply drop a dog biscuit into the Kong. If Polo really needs something to apply himself to, I put bits of biscuit into the Kong and then jam his Nylabone into the hole too. Either he has to pull out the Nylabone, or he has to work the Kong so that the little treats will fall out around the bone. This is good for 20 minutes of peace and quiet for me, but adds more IQ points for the pup. Oops...

After My Lunch Appointment...

I took a side trip to the beach today. I saw a ship coming in on the rising tide.

There were pigeons.

There were waves and foam.




And then in the valley, as I was almost home, I met these guys! A nice day all around.

An Aid to Peaceful Contemplation of Nothing in Particular

The weeks have been sliding past, up and down, over and over. It's been feeling like a rut, although I'm not really stuck anywhere. Just the same cycle of days, up and down, over and over. Time for a change.

I finally got my (library) copy of Jan Karon's newest book, In the Company of Others. Several years ago, at a sort of cocktail party, someone gushed about me being a "librarian" and asked what great new books I'd been reading. I chuckled uncomfortably. If I'd known her better, I would have laughed out loud. Although my library system gets the hottest, newest books on their public release date, I never plan ahead to get myself on the waiting list. On the day a new book comes out, I am privileged to unpack it and put it on the "hold" shelf for those other smart people to pick up. Sometime after that, I'll get around to putting myself on the list for it. In the mean time, I'm confident that there will be plenty of books for me to read.

Sometimes I don't want to take the time to read. Maybe there aren't enough available brain cells to allow for a journey of imagination. But in all this up and down, over and over, it's time to take the time.

Ms. Karon's writing is quiet, easy, comtemplative. It makes me feel good. It lets me think. It's beautiful. I'm taking time to read a good book, and I'm resting.