TypePad Freaked Out
Not sure what happened here - My Little Town - part 1 has evaporated. TypePad is doing some upgrading and it's not been seamless so far.
I will try to rebuild the post.
May 22, 2008
May 21, 2008
May 20, 2008
So... wudya do this weekend?
When we bought this place in 2003 it was a dairy farm. The owners were elderly and had finally decided it was time to retire and move south. The last cow left the property shortly before we arrived. She and her companions lived here.
And ate hay that grows here.
The weather was a little unsettled ...
... so The Man decided to get that hole in the tractor shed roof fixed first thing.
I channeled my inner Pioneer Woman and took pictures while he worked. He's not wearing chaps - but he does have on a tool belt. Hmmm. Kinda cute!
However, after a while The Man became unamused at my lack of productivity and I was required to be helpful.
We cut up fallen trees.
(This is actually a "stunt tree" - we didn't get to this one. But I was helping and not taking pictures while we were cutting up trees so I used this image.)
And stacked the wood in here.
Supervision provided by our border collie, Rocket.
We were going to pull up old barbed wire fencing - but the septic system needed attention and we didn't get to that.
"We" also tilled the garden plot and a few other chores. Enough to make us all need a little rest.
So I picked up my camera and went in search of interesting things.
Down the road I found these guys.
Boss Alpaca was a little wary of me.
"You lookin' at me? ... You lookin' at ME?"
I decided to move on toward town and shoot a few (hundred) images there.
To be continued ...
May 19, 2008
Just got back
I've got 140 images from this weekend. I'll not subject you to all of them, and I'll need time to organize my thoughts, but here's a start.
Things to come.
Mama bird builds a nest above our back door every year.
Looking forward to 5 baby birdies.
May 17, 2008
I'll be at the farm
I plan to take a lot of pictures of the charming little town where our farm is located. See ya Monday
May 16, 2008
A Brat in Paradise or Just Beautiful!
Christmas time 1980 my mother, father, sister and I took our last great family vacation. Hawaii!!! We stepped off the plane and I was absolutely enchanted. The weather was beautiful, the air smelled beautiful, the scenery was beautiful, and it wasn’t 30 below zero! Beautiful! (Yes, I do know what a thesaurus is – I’m just liking the word beautiful today!) Wooo HOOO! Take me to the beach and leave me there! ForEVER!!!
But Mom and Dad had other ideas. We had sites to see. Oh NO! Please don’t cut into my skin cancer sun tanning time. If it didn’t involve watching waves I didn’t wanna do it!
But, we did end up visiting several of the tourist attractions. What I remember most – with chagrin – is our visit to The USS Arizona. The memorial was not my "cup of tea". I am ashamed to say that in my self centered immaturity I was unappreciative of the opportunity to visit the site. I failed to consider the sacrifice of the soldiers who lost their lives there. What I remember feeling was fear. The man who barked the RULES of visiting the memorial scared me. I was really afraid I was going to accidentally make a mistake when we arrived on the ship. He started his lecture by hollering at a kid who was eating a bag of chips in the auditorium. “This IS NOT the school lunch room! Put away that food! How DARE you disrespect the memorial by eating chips in this room.” Well for heavens sake! Was there a sign saying don’t eat chips in here? It was scary. He was scary! He was going to take us out to the ship. He was going to be watching our every move.
I also remember thinking about the men whose bodies were still inside the ship. It frightened me. My silly, selfish, immature self was creeped out. I just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. In 1980 visitors were required to ride a ferry over to the ship. Once you were dropped off you were obligated to wait for the next ferry in order to leave. Bratty little me was irritated. The skies were clear, and I wanted to soak up the sun. I did not want to be stuck on this ship being scrutinized by Mr. Drill Sergeant with dead guys floating under my feet. My parents took a picture of me standing by the railing and my facial expression is priceless. “Help Me! I don’t wanna be here!” Eventually the ferry returned and we were able to proceed to the beach of the day. Snotty-two-shoes (me) was appeased
Another morning we drove to the top of Haliakala to watch the sun rise. A "highlight" as far as I was concerned. Um - NOT! It truly was beautiful (there’s that word again!), but at that time in my life, sleep and sun tanning were about the extent of my priorities. We got up at “stupidearly” a.m. and drove Barf Blvd. to the parking lot at the top of the mountain. I call it Barf Blvd because after weaving back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth in the back seat of a subcompact rental car a person really WANTS to barf – NEEDS to barf. Gaaaa!
So in addition to being tired and carsick I was also a boorish 19-year-old child. I picked a fight with my family members and by the time we parked the car I refused to get out and watch the sunrise. It was TOO COLD out there. Mom was frantic, Dad was disgusted, and my sister in her younger sibling wisdom was being an absolute angel. Cooperative and cheerful – JERK! They left to join the crowd and watch the sun rise. I sat in the car and pouted for a while – but then I snuck out and watched the sun rise. It was – BEAUTIFUL! I quickly returned to the car before my family did and it appeared as if I had stood true to my convictions and refused to watch the sun rise. YEARS later I fessed up. I’m not sure Mom and Dad were very amused. Tuffy laughed though.
We did spend time on the beach. You should have seen my mom's snorkeling get up. Curly hair sticking out of a face mask, snorkel tube in her mouth, swim suit and funny tennis shoes on her feet. We have a picture of her like that and we have titled it "The Snork". Don’t be scared Mom – I won’t ever post that picture.
One day, in the hotel we were staying at, we met a genuine "surfer dude". Tuffy and I – both bodacious young women – ended up riding the elevator a zillion floors down with the dude.
He says "So, like where ya stayin?"
We I answer "here".
"Allright" he says "First time in Hawaii".
We I answer "yes". Tuffy is nervous.
"Allright" He says. "I'm workin at the Mauii Surf, you should come on down."
"Well, ok" we I say “Sounds fun!”. Tuffy is apoplectic by this point.
"Allriiiiiiight” He says.
We exit the elevator and Tuffy hisses at me “Why did you tell him we’d go there! What are we gonna do NOW?!”
I was SO much wiser and more grown up than her – after all I was in college and she was still in high school. I KNEW things.
I laughed and said “We don’t really have to go – it was just an invitation – he doesn’t really expect us to show up.”
“Oh” says Tuffy looking relieved. “Good”.
We never did end up at the Maui Surf, but it was fun to have met a real beach bum.
I wish I could go back to Hawaii as an adult to see it with a more mature perspective. Because it’s so beautiful.
May 15, 2008
Remembering Cheng Du
I was thinking of those affected by the recent earthquake in China. These are a few of the images I captured in 2005 when I visited Chengdu, one of the cities hardest hit.
The Airport
An apartment building courtyard
The Panda bear breeding facility
One of the facility's Panda bears.
Two beautiful little girls who's parents were kind enough to let me photograph them. I bet big sister was in school that day - I hope she's okay.
May 14, 2008
PBS kicked my butt last night
The Man and I sat down to watch the PBS documentary “A Storm Over Everest” last night. Climbing Everest is on The Man’s bucket list. I won’t even contemplate that – I do NOT want to think about him freezing to death helpless and alone. I couldn’t bear to lose him like that. Ugh! Enough!
SO – here we are – with an hour or so until the show starts, and we decide to watch the documentary preceding “Everest”.
A Walk to Beautiful – A documentary about obstetric fistula and the devastation this condition can cause. Honestly, I cannot remember the last time I was so touched by a documentary. The show follows the stories of several women who suffered this horrible injury during childbirth and their road to recovery. Some of these girls are married off at 8,9, and 10 years old, become pregnant and end up in labor for incredibly long periods of time – one woman spent 11 days in active labor. Invariably their babies die and in the process of labor these women are injured and develop an obstetric fistula. Obstetric fistula in simple terms is a hole from the bladder and/or rectum (sometimes both) that causes the woman to constantly leak urine and/or feces from her vagina. The poor girls are dismissed by their husbands, and upon their return to their birth families are quite often ostracized by their families and the rest of the community.
The cure can be relatively simple – a surgery to repair the hole. Cost - $300 dollars. Quite often the physical healing is the easy part. These poor girls have been emotionally devastated by the treatment they have endured at the hands of their family and fellow villagers. The time they spend at the fistula hospital aims to heal some of their psychological scars. The joy on these girls’ faces after their surgery was absolute. One of the doctors said, “Her happiness is my prize. I have a very good job”.
As I was washing my face before going to bed last night I took a good hard look at myself - “What do you do that REALLY matters?” I envied the doctors and nurses at this hospital. I want to make a difference. I want to do something truly important.
May 13, 2008
1-800-Disappointment - UPDATED - Again
For mother’s day I ordered flowers for my mother in law from 1 800 Flowers.
Her favorite – red roses.
The Web page asked me to:
*Select delivery date.
Okay – Saturday May 10
*Sorry – you must choose a flexible delivery date.
I chose:
*Saturday May 10 Preferred – Friday May 9, Acceptable
I aniticipated the happy phone call thanking us for the flowers.
Friday – no flowers
Saturday – no flowers
Sunday – no flowers
Sunday morning I called 1-800-Flowers and was told – We will contact the florist and have the flowers delivered today.
Sunday evening – no flowers
I called again – “Oh – I’m so very sorry – The first florist we contacted did not have red roses. But we found a florist and the flowers will be delivered before 7 pm tonight or tomorrow, is that okay?”
“Ah, not really – what are my options?” says I.
“Well, we can cancel the order and give you a gift certificate for 20 percent off your next order.”
“Assuming there will be a next order – right?” I smile.
“(chuckles) Yeah, right. Sorry. Or I can give you 20 percent off of this order and the flowers will be delivered tomorrow.”
“20 percent – can’t you do better than that? – It’s mothers day and your company dropped the vase”. I cajole.
“Nope”
“Can you connect me with someone who could do better than 20 percent?” I query hopefully.
“Nope”
“Okay then, I guess I’ll take my 20 percent and my MIL will get her flowers tomorrow, right?” I’m not happy, but still polite.
“Yes ma’am”
“Okay” I sigh.
So I hung up the phone disappointed – but I live in the real world, I know stuff happens. I was prepared to just deal with it.
Monday afternoon – no flowers.
Okay, so now I’m starting to be a little less philosophical about the whole mess.
I call –
“My mother in law still does not have her flowers – can you help me?”
Long story short – 1 800 Flowers was sending the order to the same florist over and over. The florist rejected the order one time because she did not have red roses available and made the assumption that the following requests were just duplicates and could be ignored. SO – My MIL will not have her flowers until Tuesday at the earliest.
“Okay – so what can you do for me here? I’m truly a disappointed customer.” I ask.
“Well – a 20 percent discount with a coupon for 20 percent off your next order is our standard compensation.”
“Not good enough. You missed Mother’s Day for me.” I say firmly.
“Well, 50 percent?”
“Try again.” With conviction.
“I can’t”
“Connect me to someone who can.” I say kindly and quietly.
“I’ll try my supervisor – please hold.”
Insert Muzak here.
“My supervisor says 50 percent is the most we can do.”
“Hmmmm, well at least this gives me something to write about on my fairly popular blog.” I quip – totally bluffing.
She gulps.
“Thank you.” I chirp.
So to all five of you – whoops 4
(I'm a dork and subscribe to my own blog on google reader) Just a heads up –
1-800-Flowers still hasn’t delivered my MIL her red roses.
Contrast that to what happened with the flowers I ordered for my mother from GrowerFlowers.com.
Mom received her flowers on time at less expense – (half the cost to be exact). However, a couple roses were missing and two roses were broken. She called GrowerFlowers and this was her response –
“Oh dear, that is totally unacceptable – May we send you another dozen roses on Tuesday to compensate you for this mishap?”
Uh - Yeah, that’s more like it!
4pm Monday - STILL no flowers. Grrrrrr!
5:30pm Monday - FINALLY, and she says they are beautiful. Okay - It's over now.
