Pigeon

We meandered over to The People's Market over on the west side, and the Peace Gardens. It's mostly crafts, including more than one booth full of crochet. Not talking hip crocheted Daleks or Hello Kitties, just granny doilies and such in pastels. The Gardens have a similar aesthetic, worn, obvious, cliché, a bit sad.

This is in the section for England. No comment.


Finland, Finland, Finland.... Finland has it all....


The Korean Garden. Next to Vietnam across from Wales.



Next came Canada. Just a hummock. With a flag.


These are all much clearer full size, click away.

Later:

Came out of the grocery store, that has a covered parking area, much used as pigeon nesting. One pigeon caught my attention as I walked out the door, because it had one end of a twig a third again as long as he was. He kept tight hold in his beak, and walked around in circles. Then turned the other way, the stick impeding him as he turned the other way. Then back around. I stood and watched him in his dilemma, as he walked this way and that, never letting go the end of the stick. Finally, startled by a passerby (finally, there were several) he dropped the stick, and grabbed it again closer to the middle. He flew up, and the twig dropped to the ground. Pigeons are not as smart as corvids.

Chair

There is a, well, thing, over at Lovely Listing, involving this particular kind of Chair. So, I submitted this photo for that site.

I hope Chair isn't jealous of these lovely chairs.

Lots of music.

Including a mobile piano.

We saw the clown before the clown saw us.

Mum

Honestly, I have been going through the photos and videos of The Wedding. Not that I care about royalty or weddings or the strangers involved in this one. But I have a soft spot for ceremony and pomp, and how societies need elevated experiences now and again. And I am fascinated with costume, which EVERYBODY wore for this event. Elaborate hats, uniforms, the whole history of British, and by extension Western civilization, filtered through aristocratic wealth. Anthropological goldmine. Theatrical extravaganza.

(For a two minute time lapse video, see this.)

I liked the wedding dress, too. The trend to more and more skin exposure, even for a formal wedding dress - our most formal occasion these days - repels me. I had to hug my new SIL at their wedding, and I'm not comfortable hugging a half naked woman. Or 1/4 naked, to be more accurate. Still. Strapless is not a style the vast majority of women pull off well, mostly it's rather embarrassing. Hopefully the new Duchess of Cambridge (I will always imagine this as Cambridge, MA), HRH Princess William (Have I got that right?) will have set a trend toward sleeves and covered skin.

This is my favorite photo of the lot. (How embarrassing, they wore the same dress.)


I suppose on a personal note, I am glad they didn't marry as teens, barely knowing one another. She seems so self possessed, perhaps she will handle the new position better than her poor MIL. Still, does it really matter, should it matter to the rest of us? Is glamour so important? Not to me, although I enjoy the pretty once in a while. Would England be the same without it's living history of a circumscribed royal family on display?

Our language and our culture here, came from that small island nation. We adore our First Family with as much ardor and criticism, if for a much shorter time. We elevate young pretties, and smash them with equal enthusiasm. Maybe it's better to have that more enduring focus, at least in the long run.


Have I mentioned that it snowed on me yesterday on my way home? Well, it's snowing again today, as well.

Rabbit

We made it to the Chinese New Year presentation at the Library. Last year, it was very good. This year, well, it felt a bit slap-dash and confused. Still, we forgot the camera last year. The dragon was not the expressive, jaw chomping, eye flashing, tail wagging of last year. Just a static head and two dancers, which was disappointing.

Still, gotta love this guy's hair.



Before the performance, tuning up.


And her concentration.


Beautiful kid with a great monster hat.


We left a bit early, the two young violinists that so impressed us last year were painfully off tune, or off from each other. D says, "What is the definition of a minor first? When two fretless bass players play in unison." New Year or not, it was not a propitious day, somehow. Still, we got out and took a long walk. We'll go again next year.

Pinkness

We wandered down to the art center last night, since they were having a free open house. A variation on karaoke, songs playing, and locals filmed lip-synching to them. The usual gallery to wander through.

And a white elephant gift exchange. We brought two items that we would find difficult to get rid of any other way, and picked up two gifts that, although wildly inappropriate for us, we can easily find homes for. The YWCA shelter to be specific. A new, small, very pink, but name-brand shirt, and pink cap, would no doubt be welcomed by a young girl who likes pink, and could use some new, bright, well made clothing. I did laugh when I opened it. Oh, the pink of it all.


Correction, it's from a multi-level marketing thing, for a pseudo-health beverage. I may just have to give it to a thrift shop instead.

And a very "heartwarming" movie DVD will also find a place there. D was hoping for a copy of "Twilight" when he picked it, and exclaimed as he chose his, "Oh, please let it be Twilight!" The women running the event grinned, pretty sure, but not entirely certain, that he was being sarcastic. He was actually hoping it was, so we could run it with RiffTrax.

Snowed on us lightly, quite cold when the wind kicked up, we were not out for long. The official events downtown were of little interest to us, so we gratefully accepted the hints of staff as to which gifts were tickets to "Eve" and left them to others.

All in all, the first year in a long time we were not eager to see the back of. We are glad for our jobs, not having to move, generally good health, no drama. An inoffensive year, pleasantly unmemorable, no lasting harm done.

Very cold last night, down to 6F (-14C), not counting the wind chill. Left the heat on at 66F, and it came on several times. Passive solar heating working fine this morning. Moby enjoying sun-bathing, as well as the typical cat-bathing.

Lemons

This surprise vacation may be hard on my body, but I'm enjoying the hell out of having time to myself. Nothing to do, nothing much I really can do, and I'm relaxing into the space. Making some damn fine metaphorical lemonade. Moby curled up beside me, I watch the fluffy, salty, lake effect snow drift down. Icy out there, I'm here in my red plaid pjs and softest sweater, reading, writing, watching bad TV guiltlessly.

All worthwhile blessings come wrapped ugly, mixed up with hard crunchy bits. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving here. And I am very thankful, for a good hospital system that treated me well. That I didn't break anything in this fall, including my brain-case. That I can be home to recover. That I know D sees me as me, and the change in my face elicits empathy only. That I didn't have to brave the icy roads early this morning. So much to be grateful for, all the important stuff.

Inexplicable

Some have Utah themes, the seagulls and the crickets, the Mormons and their pushcarts. Some of it is simply inexplicable. The high concept floats often don't come off comprehensible. Not sure how the idea of a family tree became heads on stakes, for instance.

As always, click for full size, and details, which really don't help much, but are intriguing.









For last year, and a bit more explanation, and more photos.

Watching

The Days of '47, Pioneer Day Parade has always had a handmade quality, even when the float is markedly corporate sponsored. People still come out and cheer it on.

Unobtrusive

We need a vacation. What we are getting is mostly a vacation, with a wedding at the start. Not our idea of a good time, especially since we have always taken our vacations in May and February, not July. But we like the couple, and are happy to show support. Somewhat randomly, I came across, and have read obsessively over the last few days, the site Etiquette Hell. Not just about weddings, although as this society's last, most traditional and formal occasion, weddings do take up a huge proportion of the stories.

The issue today was about young children being used as flower girls and ring bearers. And I remembered that I had been put in that role when I was (perhaps?) five. As the only female relative of my cousin on my father's side, perhaps it was 'expected.' A cousin from her mother's side, a little boy a year young than me, was assigned the role of ring bearer. I have no memory of being asked if I wanted the job, but I clearly remember in the car home being told I would have to have my hair cut. My mother had agreed long before to allow me to grow my hair long, and I could about put it in a little pony tail. But for some reason being in the wedding meant I had to have a "cute little pixie!" I felt betrayed and lied to, and given no options.

The only thing I recall about going down the aisle was dragging the poor little ring bearer along with me, feeling responsible for him. And later, how much my shoes, and the headband, hurt. The dress was very pink, but had a lovely fluffy shirt, that I was not allowed to twirl around in or play with. There were inflatable reindeer at the reception, and the boy was given one when he asked for one at the end. So I thought it only fair I should as well, and requested another one. Big mistake, since asking for something was a cardinal sin in my mother's eyes. The bride, my cousin, give all credit, overrode my parents' ire and said she HAD offered the toy to me, that I had not asked for it first. My parents didn't quite believe her, but could hardly say so to her face. I stuck to Cousin Bride's version, not being above lying to my parents.

This may be part of why I never had any desire for a 'fairytale' wedding. Strangely, despite my experience, I never thought about the appropriateness of children participating in weddings before.

D's brother and future SIL are lovely people, and old enough, not to indulge in the sillier excesses. Their invitation is artistic and tasteful. And they never even asked if either of us would be in the "wedding party" bless them. If they discussed the possibility among themselves, they surely came to the conclusion that we would have politely and firmly held in our hoots of laughter and said no, thank-you, no. No.

As soon as we were told the date, we booked our flight and I put in for the time off work. Found out after we'd also planned for our hotel near our friends the hour's drive away, that we were also invited to the rehearsal dinner the night before and a family reunion the day after, and that there were reserved rooms at the local hotel for wedding guests. Oh well, we will be on our vacation hanging out with our friends at that point, and I can't get that earlier day off now. BIL shrugged, no biggie, just glad we could make it for the wedding. SIL's extended family flying in from all over is the main reason for the extra events, anyway.

I'm a footnote, at best, and very happy to be so, and want to be appropriately, pleasantly, unobtrusive.

Chinese

Precision spiritual technology. A phrase heard on Discovery Channel, on a show about ancient Egyptian discoveries, concerning the obelisks.

We made it to the Chinese New Year event at the library yesterday. MUCH better than I expected. A Chinese Folk Music Orchestra could easily be tiresome, but they kept the pieces short enough, and the sound amazing, so that we were entranced. Folk music is often like Sacred Harp singing, folk dancing and other amateur endeavors, a lot of fun to DO, not at all to watch or listen to. Not so much in this case. Likewise the pair of 9 or ten year old girls with violins, we braced ourselves, but no cringe came, as they were accomplished musicians.

The best moment was during the tai chi demonstration, which was dull, but the previous little girl dance troupe, in shiny pink skirts, floaty sleeves, pink headdresses with plumes, bunched up at the door near the stage, and began leaking out in a crouched caterpillar of little girls. "They can't see us, because we are hunkered down!" Amused us to no end, as they sneakily snuck out to rejoin their families. The older girls, in blue, stayed backstage, save for their performance, that made me wonder about any historical sloshing back and forth between classical French ballet, and Chinese dance forms.

Loved the dragons at the beginning, though. Of the two, one had a real "butt actor" in the form of much excited tail wagging. The young children menaced by the jaw waggling, ear wiggling, eye batting dragons, laughed. And I wondered if their intentionally scary demeanor wasn't better than the clowns who try to be "happy" aren't more creepy? No crying babies, only a wonderment and desire to pet the fluffy faces.

One of the "sponsors" gave a speech, in what we finally decided was probably English. Not his native tongue, certainly.

I sort of hoped to see an old friend, who is half Chinese. Maybe next year.

All in all, we will be there next year.