Car Stories

Yesterday I got into a friend's car. This is unusual for me because we mostly take the train or a cab. So, we were driving in her Lexus hybrid and it started me reminiscing about my cars.

When we were both quite a bit younger, like most kids, we tended to be overly optimistic about how much gas we had in the tank. She ran out of gas only 6 blocks from her house which was a piece of luck. I ran out of gas on a 4 lane highway in my Cadillac Sedan de Ville. Try to turn THAT steering wheel when you have just lost your power steering! A bit of a miracle really but those driving along side of me did not even hesitate when getting out of my way.

One of the most incredible of car story tellers is Tom Waits, and for more about his cars try this link.

Before I got a license I used to drive another friend's VW rabbit. I drove very carefully so as not to upset the police. One time however, I was pulled over and the officer asked for my license. I lied and said, "I am sorry officer, I forgot my license at home and I am late for work!" He asked where I worked (which is what I was hoping) and when I responded "Leona's" he just walked away from the car without a word. You see, in those days and maybe even today, Chicago cops ate half price at Leona's and rarely busted an employee.

My first car (with M.C.) was a tan 1973 Mercedez. That car could take a turn on a dime and saved my reckless life several times. The floor in front of the back seat rusted out. I sold it to a Jesus-looking junkyard man with turquoise blue eyes for $50 and wept as he towed it away.

Getting ready for:

My visit to Seattle and two Waldorf Schools for interviews.
Handing over my administrator position at the Waldorf school here,
Our friends Michael and Lakshmi to arrive next week,
Our school's Open house (hence the crazy crafting I am doing above),
Booty's school vacation next week,
and forgot about

cooking for the school today-
woops.

"Dirty Colored Skin"
I am
too sensitive.
I know.
But when someone says that brown skin is "dirty", even if it is in reference to their own "high yellow" tone, it makes me burn.
OK. I will put out the fire.
But I would like to say something.
Or shouldn't I?

My students S and O will be finishing their first "Main Lesson" book in a few days. It is filled with the work we have done together; drawings, writings, diagrams, maps, geometric forms etc. It is always nice to have one's work documented beautifully. Don't you think it would be wonderful if we all did it?



A little more about Matheran...
When we arrived there were elderly ladies begging us to let them carry our baggage to the hotel. The same at the transfer station. It is hard to hand over your heavy bags to someone who appears to be the age of your mother. We took most of the bags in the cart that carried mom (Hemanshu's) but one woman persisted and we gave her a bag.

In this picture we are trying to catch the second train and ahead is a man carrying 4 of our bags. I feel very "soft" at these times.

My flights to Seattle are booked. I will be seeing some of my dearest friends very soon.

Ah. I will take a horse anytime over a monkey.
These monkeys especially will adjust your idea of "cute animals". Even Booty has decided that she doesn't much like them anymore. H is not easily corrupted by experience- he still thinks they are dear little creatures. Even after one tried to attack me.

We were sitting by the pool having an afternoon pot of chai. All of a sudden a monkey saunters toward us very deliberately. I knew right away he was after the sugar so I put a heavy saucer on the lid. This did not seem to deter him at all and he continued to aggressively approach our table. I threw a spoon in front of him to try and scare him away. But that did nothing. He grabbed the sugar bowl and faced me, hissing and ready for a showdown. I knew better and broke eye contact immediately and turned around. He then sat down 2 feet away and contentedly ate the entire contents of the sugar bowl. After this he came for our chai pot and I even hoped he would find a way to the scalding chai. He did not but we lost interest in the pot after he had handled it.

Throughout the trip we learned that the monkeys will not back down unless you have a weapon (a broom or even better a sling shot). We purchased two of the latter and survived the rest of our holiday without having to get a tetanus shot. This was not the fate of a friend of mine who attempted to grab back a stolen item from a monkey and was left with deep scratches on her arms.

Sometimes when the habitat of man and animal collide, it is not a pretty picture.

I love my India!

Getting used to the quiet and the order of Singapore can take time. Especially after a trip to Mumbai with lots of riksha rides.

We were so lucky to go to Matheran again, and Booty rode a pony (Mr. Mintu) for 2 days straight! I think we have a horsey girl here! And we finally got to experience the trains in India! We took the train from Mumbai to the bottom of the hill station and rode the toy train up to the top. The refreshment seller (above) was jumping on and off the train without hesitation. The food on Indian trains is cooked fresh to order, (unlike the packaged garbage served in the US) and is hot and delicious (albeit spicy). And it prompts me to beg the question,

"What is the meaning of the word civilized?"

One for the Funny papers:

I offered to go and buy some flowers for the Kinder's Chinese New Year celebration. I took the bike and burley so as to fit the flowers in the wagon. I had to ride up on the sidewalk a little of the way because the shop is located on a busy two lane through-way. (*Bicyclists are ignored on the road and when they are noticed the drivers usually honk.) There were lots and lots of plants displayed on the sidewalk as I approached the garden nursery and an elderly, Singaporean man was also trying to walk on the sidewalk so I stopped to pull over but he stepped aside and waved me on. As I passed my wagon accidentally knocked a plant over. I stopped to right it but as I was doing so I heard the old man yell at me,

"So uncivilized!!!"
"No manners!"


I righted the plant but he continued to yell at me. So, against my better judgment I said,

"Uncivilized is when its dangerous for bicyclists to ride on the street."

He didn't stop.
"Don' know how to act!"
I think he was enjoying himself. So I laughed and yelled back at him as I rode away,

"Keep talking!!"

But he was right in a way. When confronted by "people who are like this", I don't know how to conduct myself. I should have thanked him for the practice. Heaven knows I need it!

After all this time I have discovered The Market for Artists and Designers at the Red Dot Traffic building in Singapore.

There is a monthly open market for local artists and I am planning on going to the next one February 12-13.

We have been spending some time with The Ramayana. The shadow puppet above was lent to me by my students O and S who found them in Bali, land of Rama and Sita. This one is Rama. Telling the story again reminds me that this is one tale I will NEVER stop telling/reading/living.

Perhaps we will check out the Ramayana exhibit at the Peranakan Museum before it is over next month.

I continue to work for the Waldorf Association here in Singapore, conduct workshops and help homeschool the lovely G girls. Soon however, I will be handing over things to allow for a smooth transition, at least for our long summer holiday in New England, which includes the much anticipated graduation of our nephew in Ohio and holiday in Maine.

We have rented a large cottage on the water in midcoast Maine in June and look forward to Booty's Ethiopian reunion as well as family and friends dropping by or staying for a few days.

It is wonderful to have something like this in our future!

An update for those who subscribe to the saying, "The Cure for Homesickness is the idea of home":

I had my third "preliminary" job interview early this morning and it put me in a fine mood. Because even if I don't get the job, the idea was discussed at length and put me in a homeward bound mood. That is, content that the "possibility" of going home is still very much a reality.

The next step is actually traveling home to interview in front of the teachers and students. A performance of sorts. Hence my backstage insecurities.

Why do we do it?
Why do we go through the fire and the floods when we could just as easily teach in a much less exposed way?

I think that we are not unlike actors/musicians in that it is the vulnerability that is part of the teaching. It is our very self that is left open to receive what may come. And the willingness to do this for a chance at serving is a kind of gift. Sometimes we fall on our faces and look a fool (that would be me most of the time) but then we get up and try again.

Here I go. Trying again.

Which end is up?
One of the most amazing things about animals and farm life is the opportunity to see farm animals as they really are.

Cows may seem kinda dopey but when you watch them you realize that they are working really hard to digest grass into milk. They chew and chew and chew and digest in their stomachs and you look at them and their bodies are one big giant rectangle of digestion! If only I could chew and chew on things like a cow. I think I might be a little more relaxed and balanced.

And how about chickens? The first time I fell in love with a chicken was at Hawthorn Valley Farm (a place at which I may be interviewing next month). The chicken was running and her little bottom was swaying from one side to another and it filled me with great joy. Sometimes, like in this picture, their bottoms look like their tops. I think because the egg laying (imagine what that feels like day in and out) is a big production and that area of the their body needs the space for the work. Hence the large egg boat on their underside. And was it the week of eating fresh eggs that made this month's cycle for me almost pain free for the first time in years?

It may seem silly to contemplate this is the kind of thing but why must the simple things in life be simplistic? I don't think they are.

Farmer Scott really liked to step on the gas when he gave tractor rides. And he loved to bend my ear when he got a chance about "americans". His accent was incredibly rich and he spoke so fast that when he started talking I missed about half of what he said. He and his wife were excellent hosts and gave us private cuddles with the baby ducks, which Booty loved.



This girl got wilder and bolder as the trip went on. It made us feel very good inside as it seemed that farm life really suited her. And that's the way it should be!

What is with the blackface?

On New Year's day we went to a craft market in Australia's Port Stephens area. We bought home sewn aprons and Macadamia nut butter. It was lovely.

Until we saw all the black face dolls and lawn/garden accessories. I started to look at the toys on sale and spotted a little family of four dolls who were brown and made of wood. And I thought that maybe the Aussies don't know about black face. I tried to buy the little doll set for Booty but she wanted a white plastic doll. When I refused to buy it for her she had a melt down and I heard myself say,

"I will never, never, buy you a white doll! Especially when there are sweet brown dolls!"

That night I found a blackfaced doll in the trunk of toys at the farm. It freaked me out and gave me the jitters. I woke up in the night and heard a noise. It sounded like someone trying to open the door. I woke up H and we went out into the kitchen and it turned out to be a community of rat sized cockroaches trying to find some food or maybe it was the wind banging the door. But it wasn't some kkk dude trying to take my daughter or kill us for loving her.

My husband thought I was over-reacting and said surely these dolls meant something different to Australians. So I did some research.

Check it out:

Oprah in Australia

Golliwog dolls in Australia

Wiki on blackface

And you decide.

We are back from Kookaburra Farm. And still washing the sandy, farm-handy clothes.
Today there is a breeze in Singapore and it feels so nice after the gorgeous weather in Australia.

The farm was everything we wanted and a lot of surprises. We met a couple and their lovely daughter and spent several of our days and nights with them as the girls played so well together. We were sad to say good bye to them. They live in Sydney and we don't know if we will see them again!

On vacation Booty's favorite activities were going in the hen house, picking up the baby chicks, teaching them to fly, and collecting eggs. She also enjoyed riding on Scott's tractor, milking Kaile the calf, and visiting with the ducklings. She fed cows, geese, a skittish pig, a donkey named Ernie and some very loveable goats every day for the week we were there.

If we ever have the opportunity, I would like to have goats and chickens. Sweet friendly creatures!

We found a perfect beach 10 minutes away with tidepools full of fish and snails and rocks for climbing.

At night we grilled outside on the porch while listening to Kookaburra laughter.

Advent spiral.

At 7 pm tonite all the parents from Booty's kinder filed into the school and sat on small chairs around a beautifully fern decorated spiral. One by one the children walked the spiral and lit their candles from the center candle and placed the lit ones around the edge. Booty was thrilled (she is a little bit of a show girl) and marched into the middle to light her candle atop an apple. Us parents sang some advent songs while the children lit up the room.

Lovely.

Things are moving along. And Sanbate is back to herself.
Yesterday, she sat in her room despondent and said to me, her arms outstretched,
"I need much more toys! There are not enough toys in my room!!!"

I am beginning to hear back from some schools.

Everything in motion.

Booty had a fever this morning and I called in to cancel school for both of us.
While she was playing quietly I sewed some Christmas gifts.
All of a sudden I hear her make a noise like a fake snore, very loud. I ignore it once.
Then she does it again and I turn to see that she is having a seizure.
This time no amount of cold water breaks the fit. I bring her upstairs and put her into the tub and run some cold water over her body. Finally, she starts to cry and tries to speak but it is garbled, "Mama please stop." All I could say was, "Ok but come back to mommy and daddy!"

After a few phone calls I reached Carmen, who is originally from the US. She had some children's tylenol and brings it over immediately. And our friend Birgit, who is my Kundalini yoga teacher offered to bring some homeopathic remedies for seizure and fever.

At the moment, all is calm. Please make a wish that another seizure does not come as it becomes dangerous soon after the first.

Booty's school is in session for one more week and then she is off until the 10th of January. So, we have one more week of mornings with the twins and one more Playgroup session and then the holiday and Australia.

The holiday. Sigh. Christmas. Without snow again. The tree is up. And there are some presents under it and a stocking for Booty. Still. Not quite where it is at.

Every day I check my email hoping for some news or request from the schools to whom I have sent my interest.

I am beginning to have daydreams about driving my own car and sinking my hands into clean beach sand and/or rich soil with thick tufts of grass. I know the two dreams car/earth are a bit at odds.

Dr. Lakshmi and Michael came to our house for one extremely full day yesterday and we are fairly wiped out without having done any real work. They were the ones seeing patients from beginning to end of day. Booty had children to play with all day and then her m-birdy and Lakshmi. The result of so much excitement however, has been a head cold for the little tigger girl. The heavy lidded and watery eyes say all.

My glasses broke yesterday and today we went to the mall to order a replacement. We also bought a car seat (lah!) for our trip and future needs.

Mr. D leaves tonite for India only to return on Saturday.

It is getting pretty personal around here.

I don't know what the world has in mind for us.
What I do know is that our work contract and house rental expire in May.
I do know we will not be staying in this lovely, conveniently located but overpriced condo.
I know that I don't really belong in Singapore and that I tried valiantly to belong and to offer what I have to give to those that value it.
I know some brilliant and loving people here, who have given me a great deal of support and kindness.
I realize how lucky we have been to live our life outside the safety of home and the comforts of what we know. This has been a great gift to me- exercising in me a tolerance, a new understanding of flexibility and a gratitude that previously did not seem to exist. To be able to fly to India,Bali or Australia with relative ease has also given us a richness of experience. For this we have been fortunate.

But we need to be home. We need to be able to feel free. Will we find our way to these things?

I have sent my CV to four Waldorf schools, one in each of these states (NH),(NY), (MA) and (NC).

My first choice set up a phone conference last week (at 945pm) before Thanksgiving and said they would get back to me within a few weeks.

My second choice replied with thanks that they would be responding to inquiries after December 20.

The others replied that they had received and forwarded my CV (resume) to the teacher search committee.

Mr. D has encouraged me to pursue teaching in the states with the faith that he will manage to find something within commuting distance, at least within a year or so.

It is all very strange and I begin to understand my path by watching the feelings this brings out.

Teachers who understand the layers of teaching sometimes refer to "The hidden lesson". This is the lesson that is not on display but embedded within the lesson. Most hidden lessons help students to gain access to knowledge that isn't written up in The Standards we see when assessing our own plans and accomplishments. When a science experiment explodes, or an insect is aided in her attempt to escape children witness a lesson that is theirs to experience and interpret.

Life is full of these lessons. And I believe that they are the reason we are here.

My job is to learn how to protect myself from the paralyzing feeling of anxiety- Where will we live? Will we find a home? Will I be given a class for 8 years? My job is to continue to practice the tools that help keep me whole and fulfilled enough to give to others what is needed.

It has been over a week and the funeral that has been unfolding in back of our house has finally come to an end. At first there were white awnings which covered the entire block. Chairs and tables cafe style were added with other display tables. Then they added colorful banners which stretched again for the entire block. There was a sound track or loop that played over and over, (but strangely uninterruptive and peaceful sounding). Then the last night it was loud with chanting and pot-banging music. Very exciting and even Booty commented as we watched from the second floor balcony, "Its loud momma but it sounds good!"The next day she made a special water, rock and flower pool for "the person that died".

This is definitely not for kids or those with sensitive ears but for those who want to hear the patter (slang) of the Singaporean from a "white boy" who lives in Singapore. I find this accent quite hard to do!

Our helper quit this morning without notice.
Our daughter was crying for an hour after she had only 10 minutes to process the entire thing and say goodbye.If you know a little about adoption you know that when people leave it is a big deal.

We found out an hour ago that she quit because she wanted a job in the same building as her sister. She had gone on interviews without telling us and accepted a job without our knowledge. When she quit, we asked her if she had gotten another job and she told us no.

What a relief to have her gone. I never knew, "people are like this also".
More interesting is that the American that is hiring her, heard my entire story and decided that she would hire her anyway.

Please explain. Anyone.

I must confess. These drawings draw themselves.
Last night as I was cleaning up my study for next day students this form drawing presented itself.

Window Shopping in Singapore

I am staring out the window onto rooftops
Every day the same buildings remind me I am not at home
My eyes don’t see anything but birds and night descending
But still I look outside at nothing at all.

I can hear the trucks unloading
At the bulk goods store
or dogs barking
When the expats arrive home at night

They cut down the Bamboo grove that used to sway
When the wind and rain came calling
To let us breathe for a moment with the windows open
A respite from the heat that locks us indoors

Occasionally there are parades
Or hungry ghost money burning
Once there was a march for the Buddhist temple
All the white clothed monks with white head bands
Pouring down the street toward the banging pots sound

But where is Halloween? Thanksgiving, or Christmas cheer?
Plastic decorations in store windows
Or the lights on Orchard Road?
No. I can’t find the festival feeling anywhere.
This place is only for domestic help and shopping.
My wallet is full
But there is nothing to buy here.
Nothing at all.

I have been learning a great deal from Annie Leonard and the folks at Facing the Future.

I have a curriculum guide called, "Buy, Use, Toss? A Closer Look at the Things We Buy" and it examines American consumption. It also contains every kind of link and research material one could ask for on the topic of Sustainability and Materials Consumption.

Oh, and it is free.

So I downloaded it and I am adapting it to suit my young friends and I for our science studies.

Check it out.
Facing the Future

For fun we have been trying to design a table using only recycled materials. So far, we have a table made from a box, toilet paper rolls and newspaper. NO TAPE or GLUE. But we are having a hard time keeping the legs(toilet paper rolls tightly tied with newspaper) stable in the holes we punched out of the bottom.

Still thinking about it. Any ideas?

This is the third "Angel Series" form drawing I have done.

It has three parts instead of one continuous line.

I haven't solved the weaving (over and under) problem.

But I am beginning to appreciate that the meaning of what is being expressed here, (in my unconscious?)

The green has all three thinking (upper) feeling (middle) and willing (lower) parts to its form. This is the Human.

The middle form- the orange angel- influences the feeling or heart realm and the willing.

The purple is nicely woven into the middle, feeling realm and also brings a spiritual aspect to the thinking at the top.

Crazy talk. I know. I feel like I am always apologizing for my craziness. But these forms are a kind of meditation for me. A sort of seal from the cosmos working upon me.

I have been thinking deeply about festivals and holidays. The other night I broke down while describing snow and the profound silence (almost divine) after a heavy snowfall at night in the country. This kind of silence only occurs in certain parts of the world and defines (partly) the feeling of Christmas.

The other day some parents were disparaging the boundaries around a Montessori preschool's costume parade. The school had decided there should be no tv characters, no scary costumes and no copyrighted characters ( you know like Dora, Buzz Light year...). And these parents reacted like someone had infringed upon their constitutional rights. And what they didn't understand is the effect that commercialism has and that overly mature (and scary) images have upon preschool children. (One parent even lauded the benefits that tv watching had on her child's reading skills, which educationally speaking is preposterous!)

I was really impressed that this non-Waldorf school took a stand and yet the parents didn't even want to understand why.

I really wanted to shake it down but the more I read (it was a blog post) the more I understood that parents each have their own work to do. I need to be more permissive and less aware where others have to establish more boundaries and be more conscious. My daughter is hyper aware of "doing the right thing" instead of being a 3 year old and writing on the bathroom wall with ink, (which she did last week and was promptly terrorized by my over-reaction).

We are really the same, these parents and I. Just different sides of the coin.

But back to the holiday thing.
I am so homesick for my American festivals. Easter. Summer break at the beach after a long cold winter. Fireflies. Fourth of July. Harvest festivals. Lantern walks. Halloween. Thanksgiving. Christmas. New Year. Valentines. Booty Day. And so on...

Tomorrow we are invited over a friend's for Deevali. This will be nice. And Booty will have friends there. It is something.

And that ain't nothin'.

Ignorance.
Is.
Getting.
Me.
Down.

I need to learn how to be inclusive and loving to people who systematically dehumanize themselves and others. I need to accept that some people aren't interested in doing their own research. And some people are

Really.
Doing.
Their best.

What appears to me as laziness and poor judgment is really just a point of view. Or unconsciousness. Hidden racism. Selfishness and lack of gratitude all of which I suffer from daily.

So.
I am going to work harder.
Listen to more Rachel Maddow (who now trumps Jon Stewart btw).
And stay positive.

When I can.

Jesus was walking and noticed a dog carcass by the side of the road and said,
"Look at the teeth on that dog! So clean and healthy!"

Civets of Siglap




Thank to Karin, our observant neighbor, we caught a glimpse of a Civet, local to our neighborhood of Siglap! These cuties are breeding successfully and live wild in our hood.
For more click here.

Thanks Karin!

There it sits.
Pulling everyone in
the moment they walk through the door.

Bali,

Your art studios, eclectic restaurants, and crumbling temple-palaces
reminded me of my forgotten funky self

this time around,
driving down your roads,
rice fresh from green multi-leveled fields
drying on sheets on the tarmac

you changed me
and I will not be boxed again.

Plus 15 makes ME!
A list inspired by Ben Lloyd's note.

If I was a musician I would want to make music like: Gillian Welch
If I was a playwrite I would want to be as universal as: Shakespeare
If I was a composer I would want to compose music like: Carl Orff
If I had a successful blog I would want it to be as lovely as: Kerryanne O’Reilly’s
If I was an architect I would want to build like: Gaudi
If I was a philosopher I would want to think like:Goethe
If I was a poet I would want to write like: Mary Oliver
If I was a painter I would want to paint like: Pablo Picasso
If I was a film director I would want to direct like: Kurosawa
If I was a celebrated chef I would cook like: My mum
If I was an animator I would animate like: Miyazaki
If I was a master teacher I would teach like: Wendy Margot
If I was a quilter I would like to quilt like Susan McKey
If I was a novelist I would want to write like David Foster Wallace
If I could be me, without any real or imagined obstacles I would live, like a true artist in the present moment.
Here and Now.

Washing Ardila the elephant!


We returned from Bali late last night.
I will admit at first I was not very excited to be staying at the Elephant Safari Park Lodge. The elephants were chained as they ate and their schedule required that they pick us up for dinner and conduct two safaris each day. I asked myself, "What are they doing for the elephants in exchange?"

The more time we spent with the elephants the more we grew to love being around them and envy their life as healthy retirees. Happy facts:

Each elephant has their own trainer that stays with them for life.
Each elephant is bathed by trainers and guests every day.
Each elephant is given ample opportunity to socialize, go swimming (which they love)and learn new things.
Every elephant gets one day off a week to hang out and EAT.
The elephants are treated with love, acceptance and constant care.

The resort was always spotless and beautifully maintained. Our lodge was simply but elegantly decorated and overlooked the elephant's feeding area. Every morning Tia waved to us from her spot. She had the cutest habit of tucking her trunk under after she waved. And altho' it probably meant she was hungry and asking politely for food, the way she did it was extremely charming and her expression so sweet.

By the end of three days Booty was scrubbing and caressing the biggest of the lot without hesitation. And marveling at the amount of poop these biggies produce.



The biggest laugh came from the youngest elephant, Guntham, a baby really. He was such a RASCAL! He would innocently reach out to anyone passing by and either grab their hand and pull them powerfully toward him or slap them forcefully. I figured out his game by the end of our stay and managed to "wrastle" with him playfully without getting taken down. The babies are not changed up because they tend to stay close to the moms but whenever Guntham was out in the training area we always got a good chuckle because he would grab things and cause a small amount of mischief.

One day we took a cab into Ubud, an artist community known world wide for its painters. I was set on acquiring my first real painting. I really wanted to buy a Kerry Pendergrast painting at Pranoto's but when we got their Booty was really jealous of my attention to Pranoto, (a very warm and welcoming man who was jamming with his 20 year old son in his studio when we arrived) and his wife Kerry. But it was hard to pick out a painting with the Booty clinging and running around the studio. Later I went to a gallery called Seniwati Gallery of Art by Women and found an incredible painting of two Balinese women that reminded me of a lesser known Picasso I studied at Bard College when I was 18. We picked it up the next day on our way to the airport.

The artist's name is Cokorde Istri Mas Astiti. She was born in Bali in 1948 into an aristocratic family that allowed her to study art at Udayana U in Denpasar, the capital of Bali. She has 5 children and is a woman of Balinese society. She likes to paint pregnant women and women from other cultures(tourists). Below is an example of her work(not the one I bought).



To see the painting I bought click on the Jakarta Post article about the dearth of support for women artists in Bali. That is MINE!

While I am not the most cynical American, this really puts the icing on the cake. I am a bit stunned that this could come to pass really.

Another patternless dress.
This fabric is more Indian Khadi but in Ethiopian colors.

No pattern. I have no discipline. But still wearable. Just.

Teff Peanut Butter Cookies are extremely crumbly but very tasty! Bob's carries a wide variety of flours, Teff being one of them.

"Teff is an intriguing grain, ancient, minute in size, and packed with nutrition. Teff is believed to have originated in Ethiopia between 4000 and 1000 BC. Teff seeds were discovered in a pyramid thought to date back to 3359 BC."
Whole Grains: Teff (Eragrostis) by Karen Railey

From Chet Day's Health and Beyond website

Teff is used in Ethiopia to make Injera, a pancake/crepe that sits underneath all the side dishes on a big giant plate to be shared (with hands) by everyone.



Today I am going to make Teff pie crust topped with raw date nut sesame mixture and covered in chocolate (with a dab of whipped cream).

Since I like doing everything the hard way yesterday I decided to re-tissue Booty's windows (as the sun is so bright in her room) without testing the paint I used on the white tissue paper. When it was dried the white paint looked like mud after I held it up to the light. I had to redo all of the panels.

Materials:
White trace paper and colored tissue paper with white acrylic paint mixed with water.
The Dr.Ph.Martin's brand looked muddy so then I used another brand and tested it first.
Method:
Tearing pieces and overlapping them with bleeding and/or non-bleeding tissue paper (depends on the effect you want)using watery white acrylic paint and then more white trace over the top to give a misty look (or not if you want it more stained glass looking).
I hung a wool batting angel over the side because that is where Booty sleeps.

In two other windows I made obscure castle shapes or whatever you make of them.

Some people just don't know how to express themselves.
Some people just don't know how to keep their skin on.
That would be me.

I have been paralyzed by my inability to keep my big mouth shut.
So I have designed a life whereby I can work and socialize but I don't leave the house. You see, when I do leave the house to go for a bike ride invariably my mouth opens and things pop out like, "Get off your cell phone or get off the bike path!!!" I also say kind things occasionally especially to families with children, elderly people, or dogs.

My H has the opposite issue. He wouldn't make a peep even if someone was nailing his thumbs together. So I made him his own personalized emoticons on those days he may want to share his feelings.
Indirectly.

Jack and the Beanstock was surely inspired by a Gourd vine.
We just planted some more gourd seeds and await a rapid growing plant. MB planted one 2 months ago and it has already produced a one foot long gourd and a 8 foot long vine. This is the most amazing plant I have seen!

... the best husband in the world, at least according to some.

Can someone please let me know what it means, "I have the best husband in the world"... because a husband put in new tiling, or supported a spouse during their degree work?

If you have the best husband in the world, period, that means every other married straight woman or married gay man has got the next best or next etc. And that kind of stinks doesn't it? To spend your life struggling and loving, tolerating and celebrating just to find out in the end that someone else got a better husband.

And if you have the best husband in the world, for YOU. Then that is sort of a mute point right? Like, of course. He is the One You chose. And that is cool and all but no need to mention it. Right?

How about,
I feel so lucky to be married to my husband! I am so happy he...
or
My husband really puts me over the edge at times but today he ...

You see for some of us, (me for example) our husbands are a trying lot. We love them every day but they are different than the husbands that hold your hand, or send you love notes or remember your birthday. They are still loveable and they still deserve merit.

Who else in the world is going to ask you to step up to the plate and make an effort even if your team is down. Even if your team has been down for years, and everyone knows it. The fact that you got up and stepped up is a mighty inspiring thing and your husband has been the one to give you this opportunity.

How about "My husband has a job that is eating him alive but he won't quit because he believes he is providing for his family in the best way he can."

How about "My husband is depressed and doesn't talk to me but I know that it isn't my fault and that going through hard times like these is not uncommon. I also know in time things will look differently. I am thankful that my husband trusts me enough to stay despite how he feels."

I guess how I would put it is,

I may not have the best husband in the world, but he is my husband. And I don't need you to appreciate this.

Beeswax windows.

Ok Go, White Knuckles.
Made me miss all my dog friends at home and all my dog loving friends and all my musician friends but ultimately made me happy
that they exist.
This video=joy.

http://www.okgo.net/dogs

Kundalini Yoga

Kundalini yoga is a physical, mental and spiritual discipline which is a consolidation of the highest physical and meditative techniques found in the teachings of Raja yoga, Shakti yoga, Bhakti yoga, tantra, Kriya yoga, Laya-yoga, Nada yoga and the pillars and Yoga Sutra of Patanjali. Kundalini yoga is called the yoga of awareness because it directly affects ones consciousness, develops intuition, increases self knowledge, and unleashes the unlimited creative potential that exists within every human being.

There are for me some interesting coincidences regarding Kundalini yoga.
First, I have been trying for a long time to address my broken tailbone issue and sense that I have a foundation chakra blockage-

According to yogic philosophy, the kundalini is a spiritual energy or life force located at the base of the spine. It is conceptualized as a coiled up serpent (literally, 'kundalini' in Sanskrit is 'that which is coiled.' Sanskrit kund, "to burn"; kunda, "to coil or to spiral").

The yoga that I have been practicing for years now is a form of Kriya yoga and involves a lot of breathing and of course meditation.

There is a woman from Germany who has been living here in Singapore for 10+ years who is a teacher and practitioner of Kundalini, and she is amazing! We have been taking classes from her for over 6 months now and I can't say enough about her class.
So absolutely effective, challenging and bridge building. Meditating after her class is a breeze! And if you know what I am saying, that ain't no meager praise!

I have a student I think is "fantasy poor", which means she can't really picture things. From my experience with her and her ability to remember math facts but inability to imagine how a geometric form might change or to draw a figure from imagination. The goal here is to help her remember. To work on memory.

This form here, (in the picture) I made up with her in mind. It is sort of an angel of form. To help her to remember pictures and images. I know it is hard for her. This form drawing came to me very sweetly and gently. And when I draw it, I feel a deep peace.

Attention! This is a post about the fictional lives of Movie personalities.
Please do not be alarmed.
If you tuned in to hear about more "serious" things than a middle aged expat's rantings regarding her mojo please disregard this silly piece!

The Phenomena of Actors (My husband and Colin Firth)

I don't really watch the current western cinema but that doesn't mean I don't have some sense of it. And I can't help but have an opinion about famous male actors. I am human after all.

I want to talk about the phenomena of attraction. And specifically about two actors, one American and one British. Namely, George Clooney and Colin Firth. Now, you may notice that I am not talking about Brad Pitt, or etc. Because I don't like to talk about people I haven't thought about, or people who just haven't weighed in yet (Javier Bardem ...) ok. Just let me make my point.

Now, I understand many women I respect have a powerful urge to petition George Clooney for at least a meeting. To see him. And honor him. And I understand this, to a degree, because he is, like Jimmy Stewart, the very essence of integrity and uprightness. And I too agree this should be honored. He has got a lovely mind, a gracious and kind manner. And once you see "The Fantastic Mr. Fox" you realize it is the voice too. Please let us not forget that he has a sense of humor, I mean once you have seen"Brother Where Art thou" or "Burn after reading" you know he doesn't take himself too seriously. And this too is an attractive trait. Take into consideration also,"Michael Clayton" and certainly "Good Night and Good Luck". Not that I was ever smitten or whatever you call it with George Clooney. I was more respectful of him. I don't know. I guess I am still trying to understand what it is that keeps Mr. Clooney so desirable. So marketable. Hmmmm.

Ok so I am still thinking through this. Right. So. As you know I don't (can't) watch movies out here in the Land of Culture Kill (Singapore) so I can say in all seriousness that I first rented the tv version of "Pride and Prejudice" And "Brigit Jones'Diary" rather recently. So the whole British phenomena of the C.F. thing never reached me, as I am generally immune to the movements of the masses. But I had seen at the movies, "The Advocate" (and loved it), "Valmont" ( I had previously read the original "Les Liasons dangereuse", and felt Colin Firth was a much more convincing Valmont then J.M., "Love Actually" "Apartment Zero" and of course "The English Patient" and "The Importance of being Ernest" ok ok I know George Clooney has been in more serious films but the latest, "A Single Man" shows the scope of things Colin Firth. But still begs the original question.

Is it really that ability to look into the camera? And be real? Or embody something that is real? Integrity. Compassion. Tenderness. Humanity. Possibly.

(Lately, the actor Jeremy Renner has been able to scoop that kind of feeling in his performances, "The Hurt Locker")

But I have to say every time I see a picture of Colin Firth, I just feel a "Oh look at that sweet, lovely man!" I just want to see him protected and happy. I have come to the conclusion that women from New England probably find more in his performances because we go more for the "dark, silent, intense, loyal types" than the flashy, charming, blue-eyed and smooth types. But my dear sisters, I should not speak for you.

Actually, come to think of it. My husband fits into the Colin Firth model!
Cool.

Still hammering away at the Waldorf Singapore website. I had the hardest time trying to changed the background color from black (depressing) to a watercolor painting. It would post just fine but when I would go back to it another day it would be back to black. Still not sure if the community actually likes it but you know people are busy and if they don't work on a project like this they don't know. I should just s.u.



I like to be able to keep to my word. One quote I continue to repeat, (to my H's dismay) is one from the bible, Jesus said, "It is not what man puts into his mouth but what comes out" that is important. This is sort of my personal motto. So, I finally made good with the promise to try to keep our house seasonal regardless of the lack of any discernible season here. Above, Booty and I felted some wool batting in fall colors and hung them from (the remains of) a local branch.



And yes it is Lantern Walk season. Here is my new pentatonic solid lantern. I just need to add a handle. The Kinder lantern walk is being held at the Botanic garden this Friday.



Finally finished my part in the Red Tent project which I wrote about a few months ago, (see labels).

Lots going on with the community. Yoga class started back up again today. I am trying to coordinate a new group of Playgroup facilitators. And H has been traveling out of Singapore every week now so I don't know how long this can go on. But since things change every day, (except my temper) we shall see what the great creator of all things funny and all things funny to others has in mind.

Thank you for posting this Ben.
Oh yeah. My sentiments exactly!

"Imagine that hundreds of black protesters were to descend upon Washington DC and Northern Virginia, just a few miles from the Capitol and White House, armed with AK-47s, assorted handguns, and ammunition. And imagine that some of these protesters —the black protesters — spoke of the need for political revolution, and possibly even armed conflict in the event that laws they didn’t like were enforced by the government? Would these protester — these black protesters with guns — be seen as brave defenders of the Second Amendment, or would they be viewed by most whites as a danger to the republic? What if they were Arab-Americans? Because, after all, that’s what happened recently when white gun enthusiasts descended upon the nation’s capital, arms in hand, and verbally announced their readiness to make war on the country’s political leaders if the need arose." Tim Wise

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Every day that rains in Singapore is a good day!
Original music by 50 foot Queenie (that would be me)!