Rainbows, Ice, and Clouds

I couldn't believe my eyes. A rainbow halo above a white, fluffy cloud. I took off my glasses. Nope, still there. Cleaned off the polarizing filter on my camera. Nope, still there.

Either someone spiced my peach mango tea, or I was witnessing a wonderful phenomenon of nature.



A couple of days ago my Dear Professor and I visited our favorite retreat center. I'm all about running away from my life for a brief time every now and then to get perspective and rest from the hectic chaos we call living. So, we are in the habit of taking a step back, inhaling a deep breath, and living very simply with our thoughts and some beautiful scenery for a few days.

Try it, I know you'll like it.

(If you want to find out more about our retreat, go over there on the right hand side and click the square button thingie that says "iron acres now". It's a new blog dedicated to thoughts on the meaning of life.)

I couldn't wait to get back to civilization(read: the internet) and do some research. I found a couple of references to something called an ice cloud. If a certain type of cloud is a certain height in the sky and filled with certain flat shaped ice crystals and the ice is sitting a certain way in the cloud and the sun is shining from a certain angle, VOILA! Ice cloud rainbow. There are other pictures on the internet (here or here) that are certainly more spectacular than mine, but that's ok.



I like mine just fine. Yesiree bobtail!

What Time, Technology, A Few Sheep, and Some Smart Dogs Can Accomplish

I know, you have probably already seen this.  It is all over the internet.  But everytime I see it, it makes me smile.  I'm still trying to figure out if it's real (it certainly is in the realm of possibility) or a hoax.  I've decided I don't care.  I love it anyway.



Now, if I could just get Misty the freecycle wonder dog to learn some of those moves . . .

The Magician's Assistant

Dad was born with a camera in one hand and a book of practical jokes in the other. His favorite trick(or maybe mine) involved his brother and the family outhouse. It seems Uncle Frank, Dad's younger brother, was constantly waking Dad up in the middle of the night to accompany him to the outhouse. Dad took his job as older brother seriously. So seriously that when he happened upon the lifeless body of a snake in his mother's garden, the well oiled machinery of Dad's mind sprang into action.

That night Uncle Frank indulged in his routine middle of the night outhouse run, waking up older brother to accompany him with a flashlight. Dad was prepared. The lifeless body of the snake found earlier in the day had been carefully positioned in the place calculated to bring the most terror and consternation upon his younger brother. Dad waited patiently until Uncle Frank was "nice and comfortable" and then nonchalantly aimed the beam of the flashlight in the snake's direction. Much to Dad's delight, and that of his co-conspirator mother watching silently by the back door, Uncle Frank jumped up and hit the outhouse door at least five times before getting it open.

It was, I suppose, very natural, then, for a young practical joker to find meager fame and fortune as an amateur magician. Professor Hocum did it all, and he did it aided by a special proprietary ingredient called "woofle dust".



A very popular Easter custom back in that day was the gifting of baby chicks, ducklings or bunny rabbits to young children. For that reason, at five years old, I found myself the very proud and nurturing owner of one small, white, New Zealand rabbit. Little did I know that the bunny's real intended use was as a prop for Professor Hocum.

Years of therapy have proved unsuccessful in erasing that horrible day from my still quivering mind. I was happily watching my Daddy attired in a white jacketed tuxedo with red cummerbund as he entertained a large crowd of folks in the community room of a downtown department store. Everything went well with the card tricks, the fan into a bouquet of flowers trick, etc. But the scene quicky changed. All of a sudden, there on the stage was my Daddy and my bunny. Professor Hocum took the bunny and placed it in some sort of container. (Selective amnesia has been kind in shielding me from many details of that agonizing moment.) With a flourish of his magician's wand and a sprinkle of woofle dust, my dearly beloved rabbit disappeared.

I panicked. I cried. I screamed, "where is my bunny?" How was my five year old little brain to know that Professor Hocum was well intended, that my bunny would be promptly returned from the nether world to which it had vanished? As Professor Hocum(AKA Dad) liked to tell it, The crowd laughed uproariously. They thought it was part of "the act".

I failed to see the humor in the situation. To this day I have a fear of being sprinkled with woofle dust and an aversion to men's formal attire.

I suppose I should be grateful a snake wasn't involved.

The Chronicles of None-ia

This is a chronicle of things that are gone. Me things. How I've changed.

1. My waist.
They say that of all the things you lose, the mind is the one you miss the most. Not me. I miss my waist. I don't know where I misplaced it. I noticed it taking vacations after the birth of our first child. The vacations became longer after the birth of our second child. After our third child's birth, my waist went AOL. It did come back briefly just to say goodbye the summer of 1991. I think Angelina Jolie borrowed it. Hope she remembers to bring it back when she is finished with it.

2. My hair color.
My long, shoulder length dark brown hair has given way to short and grey. My eyebrows are a faint reminder, but they are slowly succumbing too. I think this began shortly after the birth of child number three. Hmmm. Is there a pattern developing here?

3. My height.
The delightful Principessa recently noted she that she now appears to be an inch or two taller than me. I assured her that she is NOT growing, I'm shrinking. Have I turned into the incredible shrinking woman?

4. My eyesight.
At the fortysomething mark, a very rude optometrist informed me that the muscles in my eyes were aging and could no longer focus sharply. How dare he! I was in my prime! And I was turned the wrong way. Yeah, that's why I couldn't read the big numbers. It was his fault.

5. My mental agility.
Lightening repartee was my signature move. Now I have trouble between the noun and verb of my sentences. If I'm lucky, I can remember the object. I find that short naps in the middle of a sentence help, but only if the one with which I am conversing is tired too.

6. My keys.
I just had them a minute ago. . .


see more Lolcats and funny pictures

What Do You See?

I have written a lot about clouds and sky recently, and I must admit I was rather curious myself as to why. All I know is that when I walk outside, something in my brain says, "look up and pay attention." After sixtysomething years living with this brain which, by the way, is shared with a friend who shall remain anonymous (but they know who they are), I have learned that when it says pay attention, I should.

Anyway, here I was mindlessly looking for one thing when I stumbled upon a link to something else. (The title of this blog really should be "one thing leads to another.") Curious of the title "Cerulean Sanctum", I hit the link button. I couldn't help myself. Those are two of my favorite things (anything blue and anything in Latin). Consequently I never did manage to complete the first task but I did come up with an explanation for my recent obsession with all things celestial. (I do my best work in distraction).

There is a passage in the New Testament, Luke 21:12-28, in which Jesus talks about all the bad stuff that will go down for his disciples and that when it does, they should look up. Help is on the way. (That's the gist of what is said, but if you question my translation, feel free to look it up in its entirety for yourself here.)



For me, it's just a tad more than coincidental that I walked outside my back door and took this picture just a week before Easter Sunday. I see more than just an incredible juxtaposition of sky, cloud, landscape and sun; I see a powerful metaphor of the redemption of the world by the God who sent his Son to be its Savior.

What do you see?

I'm Going On a Diet

I'm going on a diet. And it's all because of a blog.

Until yesterday I was perfectly happy with, uh, my physical proportion. Okay, maybe not perfectly happy. Maybe more "reconciled to".

And then I stumbled on this website.

I have seen(and enjoyed) a lot of food porn on the internet. Those are the places where they have such incredible recipes and pictures of food that you want to lick the screen. Places like Food Porn Daily, or Slashfood, or even this Flickr site.

These sites have been great for the rest of my family because they resurrected from the dead my desire to walk into the kitchen and prepare a meal for them.

This site was different. It made me want to run screaming from the computer and do 500 laps around the farm. Now, that's a considerable amount of motivating for a body that is genetically opposed to movement. Don't believe me? Take a look for yourself. Just click here.

And don't say I didn't *shuder* warn you.

PS After much pulling of hair and editing of code I have FINALLY succeeded in getting that little comment thingy button to show up at the end of my posts. You now have a voice. Please use it! . . . With discretion. . . . And please be honest but kind. Remember the terror of seeing a mark in the "needs improvement" column on your report card under the "plays well with others" category? Have fun!

What a Wonderful World, Part 2

I am not a scientist, but I am a crap (pardon my language) savant. That is, someone who for no explicable reason absorbs trivial facts (like the names of small tree frogs in different regions) but can't remember important facts like trash pickup days. (Sigh) It's a burden, but someone has to bear it.



I have been struck by the beauty of what is hanging over my head atmospherically in the last two weeks, and whilst tagging my photographic finds on Flickr decided to check out what the names for the different cloud types were.



It was then that I made this discovery. (dun dun duh!) Earth talks to the sky. No, this isn't a conspiracy theory, it is pure science.

About 40 years ago scientists discovered these little microbes called ice nucleators. They are a type of bacteria that are in dust, and serve as the foundation for formation of ice and snow crystals in clouds. They get kicked up by a farmer plowing his field and carried into the clouds by wind. Ski areas use a type of these things to create artificial snow.



I still can't tell you the difference between the lus-es, be they strato, nimbo, cumu, or their higher flying cousins, but I am fascinated by the fact that earth and sky communicate via those teeny little ice nucleators. Ice nucleators are our friends. Peace, out.

What a wonderful world!

(cue Louie Armstrong again.)

What a Wonderful World

Even though our last frost date for planting is June 1st up here in the Frozen North, our recent weather has been spectacular. I walked outside to gather up my freecycle dog Misty in the late afternoon and was greeted with an incredible display of light, landscape, and clouds.



People, please keep in mind that this is straight out of the camera. Spielberg couldn't CGI (computer generated imagery) anything better. And he rates an Oscar. What could we possibly give to God in recognition of this?

Misty and I proceeded to the local park for walk with a friend and her dog Kolby. Kolby is a young black Lab. We had fun watching his short legs trying to keep up with Misty's long ones.



I have found that stopping to take pictures is counter productive for the exercise value of a walk, but when I slowed to allow Kolby and his friend to catch up, I caught a glimpse of blue and white canopy above the still naked trees.



Walking in the park is a great exercise for dogs and humans alike. And a wonderful opportunity for good conversation. But mostly it is a sacred time to relate to everything around me, to breathe in the grand scope of nature, the trees, the critters, the ground, the sky. A time for reflection on how all this came to be and continues to function in breathtaking symmetry and synchronization.

Louie Armstrong said it best,
"And I think to myself, what a wonderful world."

Both Sides Now

"I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's cloud illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all"*



If you could go back in time, with the knowledge that you have now, would you change anything?

One of my favorite films is Peggy Sue Got Married. On the eve of a small town high school reunion, a woman experiencing marital difficulties is transported back in time to her high school days. It's an interesting look at the "what if" of experiencing a part of that awkward teenage period through more mature eyes. A monumental "do-over". Peggy Sue finds humor (her Dad buys an Edsel), regret (at having devalued her relationship with her younger sister), and gratitude (opportunity to reconnect with grandparents that had passed on). Most importantly, she rediscovers her first love for her husband. (There is also a running gag about her alliance with the geeky kid she ignored in high school. He is the only one in the her past who can imagine her being from the future, and benefits from information on the technology she has seen there.)



When I first viewed the movie, I was captivated by the idea of living in the same small town for your entire life, maintaining those teenage relationships through adulthood. That seems exotic to someone who grew up in a large metropolitan city. My relationships have changed, keeping pace with educational status(high school vs. college), marital status (single vs. married), and location (Texas, New York, Pennsylvania). Perhaps that's the reason family is so important, it's one of the two unifying elements in my life (the other being my faith, which my parents introduced me to).

"But now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
Well something's lost, but something's gained
In living ev'ry day"



Change is part of life. I can't move on and stay in the same place. On the other side of fifty, gravity starts taking its toll on the body and information overload takes over the mind. There are some psychological losses to deal with. But there are some perks, too. History gives me perspective. Experience gives me humility. It is an incredible revelation to find a purpose in all the failures.

"I've looked at life from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all"*



It's a very freeing thing to let go of the pretense of the illusion that I can understand and control my life, to relax into the cloud of uncertainty, the joy of living that life. The more I know, the more I know I don't understand. I find peace in still learning.

I've looked at my life from the arrogance of youth. I'm beginning to reflect upon it from the humility of experience.

I think the view is better from here.

_____________________________

*"Both Sides Now" by Joni Mitchell

Ipodite's Main Squeeze

My sister, iPodite, has a new man in her life. Actually, he's a little man. Actually, he's not really a man. He's a dog. But oh, what a cutie.

This is what he looked like last summer when the courtship began. He could literally sit in the palm of her hand. When he went outside, he was dwarfed by blades of newly mown grass.


And this is a recent head shot.


What a hunk. His name is Spike, and he is all Cheekywawa sweetness and cuteness.



Spikey is a bit short of 13 inches tall, likes dog movies, playing with his squeaky turkey toy, and cuddling with iPodite. He is people friendly and housebroken.



*Sigh* Isn't he a little studmuffin?

Quintessential Texas

This morning's word is quintessence. (I had to look it up to make sure I spelled it right.)

Etymology:
Middle English, from Middle French quinte essence, from Medieval Latin quinta essentia, literally, fifth essence
Date:15th century
1 : the fifth and highest element in ancient and medieval philosophy that permeates all nature and is the substance composing the celestial bodies 2 : the essence of a thing in its purest and most concentrated form 3 : the most typical example or representative
— quin·tes·sen·tial adjective
— quin·tes·sen·tial·ly adverb

Thank you Merriam Webster dictionary.

1. Quintessential Texas flower, the bluebonnet (you HAD to know that was coming)


2. Quintessential Texas Restaurant


3. Quintessential Texas Snack Cracker


4. Quintessential Texas Cooler


5. Quintessential Texas Bike Decoration


6. Quintessential Texas Books


7. Quintessential Texas 911 House Number Identifier


8. Quintessential Texas Form of Transportation


9. Quintessential Texas Home Repair


10. Quintessential Texas Picture of Significant Other Frolicking in Bluebonnets

Gourmet Texas on a Budget

There are certain delicacies without which a trip to Texas is just not a trip to Texas. Here are a few of them.

1. Good Mexican food made with fresh ingredients from scratch.
You can find plenty of that here in Austin, and don't forget to order The Bob. Or the Guacamole. I'd better stop there.



2. Forget Krispy Kreme. It's Shipleys Donuts or none at all. You can find these in most major Texas cities, for sure Houston and San Antonio.



3. My favorite hamburger used to be at Prince's Drive-In on Main Street in Houston, with a tall, frosted mug of root beer. My current fave these last thirtysomething years was introduced to me by my Dear Professor down in South Texas. They are now everywhere.



4. Mexican Coca Cola. Bottled in Mexico in REAL bottles, and made with pure cane sugar, not that high fructose stuff that they use in the States. It has a wonderful bouquet and a smooth finish. Currently appearing at your local HEB. (Texas grocery chain)

5. I saved the best for last. (Drum roll please.) It just ain't a trip to Texas without bluebonnets or Blue Bell Ice Cream. After hearing DP wax eloquent about it in class, one of his students, after graduation, had two gallons shipped to us in western PA. Wherever that student is, God Bless him!!



I'm salivating just remembering it all.

My Worst nightmare

I have a recurring dream that strikes terror in my heart. Magically I am transported back to high school. Keep in mind that must be some major time machine voodoo to take a sixtysomething back fortysomething years. I walk into class and there is a final exam for which I did not prepare. In the immortal words of Buck Owens and Roy Clark, Hee Haw characters and songwriters, "gloom, despair and agony on me."



This is always followed by waking up in a sweat, then a sense of relief as I regain some semblance of reality. At least, that's how the nightmare has played itself out.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday I accompanied my beautiful Principessa to her school for the final two periods of the day. Principessa is a social studies teacher in a humongous high school in a large Texas city. May I brag? Our little Principessa is the new chairwoman of the social studies department. Way to go, Principessa!



Seventh period began harmlessly enough. The initial students entering class were momentarily taken aback by my presence (fearing I was a substitute teacher). Some were excited to see that Principessa was indeed the result of normal human reproduction. I think they viewed her as springing fully formed from the History Channel, or perhaps an alien. Teachers have normal human lives?



Principessa led her students through a rapid review of the last twenty chapters of study and then handed out a 25 question test. As the kids were quietly working away at sharpening their pencils and answering the questions, my darling daughter, the joy of my life next to my computer, grandchildren, and grandkitties, nonchalantly turned in my direction and said, "Mom, would you like to take the test?" How else could I respond but, "OK".

She handed me the innocent piece of paper and then it hit me. (Dun dun duh!!!!!)

It was my worst nightmare. Only it was REAL! Here I was taking a test for which I had not prepared, even though Principessa had gone over the questions beforehand. I vainly went down the list, trying desperately to remember what she had said. I did pretty well until the final eight. It was then my sixtysomething brain ran screaming from the room, leaving me to sit there blankly staring out the window.

When I mumbled a pathetic "I just can't remember this", Principessa retorted, "but Mom, you LIVED through this period of history."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I paid ATTENTION to what was going on!" I replied.

Have you any idea what it's like to have your DAUGHTER make you stay after school and write 500 times, I WILL pay attention in class?

I Want to take as many with me as I can

One of the incredible people I inherited in my marriage to my Dear Professor is his 85 year old Aunt Mellie.  Aunt Mellie is a role model for more people than you can shake a stick at.  (Something about being in Texas brings out my background in southern colloquialisms).  She was born in Mexia, a little town between Houston and Dallas, a tad west of the interstate.



There's an old groaner of a joke about Mexia (pronounced Mu-hay-uh).  A salesman comes to town and, wanting to check his facts, inquires as to how to pronounce the town's name.  One person tells him Mex-ee-uh, another Mu-hay-uh.  Just a little confused, he goes to the local ice cream store and asks the clerk, "would you please pronounce the name of this place very slowly for me?"  The clerk responds, speaking slowly and enunciating clearly,  "Da-ree Queen".  (I warned you it was a groaner!)

Perhaps I should get back to Aunt Mellie.  Despite her 85 years, she is vibrant, active, and has much less grey hair than I do.  MUCH less.  She attributes her stubborn hair color to her Cherokee lineage.  All I know is I want to be like her when I grow up.

Last summer she went swinging on ropes through the jungle canopy of Costa Rica, then caught a huge swordfish in the Gulf.  Should you doubt, she has pictures to prove it.



But her  most outstanding characteristic is her love for family and her love for Jesus.  Principessa and I stopped by to visit her a couple of days ago on our way from iPodite's home in one major Texas city to Principessa's in another.  Although Texas is pretty big, our family members have somehow managed to settle along one of the major highways, which makes it convenient to visit them.

Aunt Mellie, who moved from her home of 55 years to her current home only 7 years ago, brought us up to speed on her family, including grandkids, and spoke of heaven.  She loves parties and family reunions, and I think that's how she envisions eternity.  Her words are still ringing in my ears.

"I want to take as many with me as I can."


 

I can say from personal experience these thirtysomething years,  anything Aunt Mellie sets her mind on is pretty much a done deal.

Where it's always 9 o'clock

My dear sister iPodite loves clocks.  Her guest bedroom is the clock repository.  Sleeping in a room with 21 clocks is not as difficult as it might appear because not all of them are functional-- 18 of  them exist in a world where it is always 9 o'clock.  It is, however, just a tad unsettling to have that many faces watch you as you sleep.



I asked her about the setting.  Was it aesthetic?  iPodite is an enormously creative person with an artistic eye.  Actually she has two of them.  Is it possible for one eye to be artistic and the other not?  If so, would they be constantly arguing over aesthetics?  Sorry, I digress.



iPodite's response was that she just became wearied of resetting 21 clocks every time Daylight Savings sprang forward or fell back, and so 18 of the clocks were frozen in time.  My sister and I grew up in a land BEFORE Daylight Savings time was initiated, so I can understand the weariness.  I remember being VERY disconcerted about having to go to bed while there was still daylight to burn in play.  When my Dear Professor, ALL his books, our three children and I moved to the Frozen North, where in the fall and winter the sun hides after 3PM, I became grateful for the sacrifice of thousands of boys and girls in later time zones going to bed with daylight to burn so that our three didn't have to walk home from school in the dark!

I also discovered that I have been living on slow Amish time for most of my life.  But I have discussed that before.

iPodite has several wonderful clocks.  My favorite two are the cat with the wagging tail and what iPodite calls "jazz hands Mickey."



I believe the novelist Thomas Wolfe is responsible for the phrase, "you can't go home again".  I know that is indeed true because things change within you and within the familiar surroundings you left behind.

Yet, for a few days every summer, I can visit my sister, and while I sleep in that room where 18 clocks are frozen in time,  my dreams  transport me back to the simpler days of our shared childhood. I  "go  home again" in the room where it's always 9 o'clock.

The Grandkitties

Since I have bored you senseless with talk of our fabulous grandkids (the Sprittles), I thought it time to introduce you to my grandkitties (Chester and CC).

Here is Chester, the thoughful one.



And this is CC, the shy one.



Chester and CC belong to Principessa.  Principessa loves kitties.  She loves them so much she talked my Dear Professor into getting one and letting it live in the house.  Our first cat, the legendary Mittens, proved much smarter than our Springer Spaniel, Bandit.  Mittens went out of his way to endear himself to DP.  Bandit bit him.

When Principessa found Chester and CC (who are brother and sister) as kittens, she just could not bear the thought of breaking up their kitty family, and so she took home both of them.  I blame all of this on the Hello Kitty phenomena that continues to take young females by storm just like Godzilla took Tokyo.

Chester is the model of what big brothers should be (protective and caring of their female siblings), much like Son 1 has become.  Only I cannot imagine Son 1 flushing the toilet for Principessa with the same attention to detail as Chester who lovingly covers his sister's, ahem, litter box deposits.  CC appears to be a tad litter box challenged.  She tries to cover her, ahem, deposits by pawing the floor after making the afore mentioned, ahem, deposit in the litter box.

The importance of all this is that Chester and CC are my grandkitties and the loving and pretty much well behaved companions of our Principessa.

And worthy of a grandmother's love, even if they have four legs and long tails.

Where am i?

Where am I?  I'll give you a hint.  It's not the Frozen North.



Nope, it's not DC. You're getting warmer, though.  Take a good look at that little flag flying just below the Stars and Stripes.




Uh uh.  I'm not in Chile.  But there's plenty of REALLY good Mexican food here.  Try this place and order a Bob.  You'll thank me.



OK.  This should be a dead giveaway.  In what US state where EVERYTHING is bigger, do you find these in the spring?



That's right.  I'm deep in the heart of Texas, enjoying warm weather, Mexican food (you should REALLY go to Matt's and try a Bob), and the bluebonnets. 



I just love bluebonnets.