On July 3rd blog, I mentioned about the plight of the Bijou Art Cinema’s resident cat, Boo (or 22×22 as I call her; well, because she is 22 years old and 22 pounds). She was on the verge of being evicted (my own rather strong description) from her home.
But now, because of her predicament, everyone including myself rushed to check on Boo. Lots of suggestions and opinions later, the theatre management decided to keep her. Check out the good news article from The Register-Guard.
When I visited Boo, I was able to talk to Joe Lewis and mentioned that cats prefer to attach to their location/home than say, dogs’ preference to attach more to their owners. Here are some photos of Boo, with her favorite theatre chair, below the shrine they erected for her.
It was wise of management to take her to the vet; which incidentally, I found out today when I took my 2 cats for their annual exam, was the same vet Bijou took Boo to. And based on that visit, it was even better that management had a change of heart.
First off, I tend to blog and YouTube video surf alot. So, lo and behold I discovered (rather a bit late) that there are knitting videos running rampant in YouTube!
It’s such an excitement to say, I happen upon this video and struck me to include it in my blog. It’s called Continental Knitting Demo. I must add here that, YES, I am a Continental knitter. But I have a custom-made (my own weird) way of the Continental style. I can do the other methods, but always fall back on the Continental way. With this video, the demo shows a more efficient, higher speed of continental knitting. I will definitely give this a try. I’m open to all sorts of learning.
I wonder how many knitters out there prefer Continental (German or Left-handed) over the English (Throw, American or Right-Handed) method of knitting?
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Then, here’s one knitting-related video that is funny and cute, but well-produced. It’s called Blood, Sweat & Wool. Enjoy!
Martita is a favorite teacher of mine. Her personality, her demeanor, her embodiment of Flamenco dance and music exudes in her whole being; one cannot help but love her.
Although I have met her in the early 2000’s and took lessons on and off for months; there were pressing family and personal issues that needed priority more than dancing. And so I stopped. But I cannot stay away from dancing for long. My body needs it. So this year, after immersing myself back into dancing consciousness, I started going back to my dancing teachers for lessons so I can catch up again. And thus, here we are with Martita.
Her whole family consists of David and Martita Madeira Woods with their 8 children (all grownup with their own families). Everyone is artistic. They even have their own band named Abakadubi, a fusion of dance and music, according to the description in their website. If you meet Martita and the rest of her family, one can only conclude that they are a closed-knit, one big happy family who want to share to the world their love of music & dance; their selflessness; social and environmental consciousness as well as healthy living. That said, people who meet and befriend them all feel that they too belong to her family.
So I told Martita that it’s only my gratefulness that I write something about her and Flamenco. And plug their business and livelihood. Under the Abakadubi umbrella is Martita’s Bailar Dance Studio. She had taught so many would-be dancers from tweens to young and mature adults into graceful, self-confident Flamenco dancers.
Below are more photos taken from the Oregon Country Fair of Martita, Abakadubi band, of Iana and Ishi who are the singers, poets, spokespersons for the band. Iana was, by the way, a classmate of my son in middle and high schools. Amazing how such a small world we have, that we all meet one another again sometime in our lifetime.
Please note some photos are a bit blurry, as Martita and Ian danced so fast; it was hard to capture good movement out of them. And yes, I have a crappy, basic digi camera. What can I say!
What is The Oregon Country Fair? If you are not from Oregon, let me enlighten you with what it represents. It represents and embodies, as one might consider, a counter-culture. The 60’s generation of Oregonians gave birth to this celebration. As the celebration grew, the fair organizers moved it to a location further away from the city, to a farm/wooded area that would create more of a free-spirited nature.
Since I’m NOT so great in writing, it’s better if others with more journalistic veins in them explain it. So, I give you an article from Eugene Weekly that describes it well. I’m more towards visual explanation, pure and simple. With pictures, anyone can then come up with their own conclusion, opinions or even slant.
About 15 years ago, when I first heard of the Oregon Country Fair, people were saying how so liberated, ‘hippyish’ the celebration was. And it’s soooo true. I wanted to experience the fair, the celebration of arts, culture, theatre, crafts, ecology, sustainability, earth consciousness, etc., etc. One thing I did not expect then, just HOW HUGE crowd from far and wide it attracted. Back then, my son was only about 5 or 6; typical of a child, a male child who’d want to run and explore. So, when my friend whose child was my son’s best friend, suggested we should go, we all went.
That first time at the fair, full enjoyment was not to be had. All I could think of was ‘Don’t lose My Precious in the crowd.’ Ninety-five percent of my attention was towards him and his friend, while 5% was on anything going on. Meantime, my friend went about checking out every stall there is and left me with her other younger child. I wound up a baby-sitter. Then My Precious got whacked on his forehead by his friend by some branch that they each picked up playing sword-swinging. The nearest first aid station was on the opposite end from where we were. There was no way to wade through rivers of people to get there. An incredibly hot summer weather that day, I had to beg from food vendors to give me some ice or something. They were a bit reluctant to help me until I showed a bleeding, screaming child. From that point on, that ended the enjoyment. Had to go home, which was a 20-30 minute bus ride back to civilization with a child in pain.
Nowadays, the fair and the location it is held at had gotten sophisticated, well-planned, well-thought of, and tightly organized, as one fair goer (who had been going for 20 years) told me. There are now areas for child-care/nap; lost and found; and first aid. The reason for my going to the fair is three-fold:
I do not have to lug around some child (although….I asked My Precious if he wanted to come, but that past experience did not sit well with him all these years);
It’s been years and maybe I’d really enjoy the experience;
The ultimate reason was to cover and write about my Flamenco teacher and friend, who was performing there everyday of the 3-day event. (I’ll write about her in another blog entry.)
Before I release you these photos, I’d like you to remember: the celebration (as I quote from their website) “creates events and experiences that nourish the spirit, explore living artfully and authentically on Earth, and transform culture in magical, joyous and healthy ways”. That said, there is a photo that might shock or offend you. So be fore-warned!
(Note 1: I mulled over the crossed-out section above for a day or two and decided not to show the photo. Thanks to youngest sis to remind me of that. Sorry folks! I don’t want to be banned by WordPress. I didn’t even ask them if I could show it.)
(Note 2: I really should open a FLIKR account for my photos. I’m going nuts as to why the first photo in the gallery here does not come up no matter how I rearranged them. Just click on the X box to open it. Sorry once again!
…the season for blueberry pie has just started. Barely.
See the difference in harvest yield. Gotta be patient. There is a week more of waiting before a whole bunch of blueberries will ripen. Nonetheless, blueberries are easy to handle than cherries.
I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready to MAKE PIE.
What’s the big bleeping thing about pie anyway that I so harp about here on this blog? For one, I can bake pies with very little effort than, say, cakes. Two, pies are all I’m good at making. And my cooking/baking motto is simply: ‘Five ingredients or less!’ If any of what food prep I’m doing fits that motto,I IS HAPPY! Isn’t that telling of a lazy person or what, huh?
The fun of blog- or video-surfing is you get to discover so many interesting people, places, events, or just about anything out there on the Internet that you wouldn’t otherwise be able to in the short 24 hours you have in real time.
I discovered William Sledd about a year ago when he started getting recognized as the ‘Ask A Gay Man’ fashion guru. He’s a young fella who had worked at a Gap store in Padukah, Kentucky, who created hilarious YouTube videos on fashion advice. He seems such a fun, wacky, unpretentious person to be around. And I just love him! He cracks me up with his take on men’s fashion and just about anything. He is honest about himself; and that takes alot of courage to do. He has a signature opening line, ‘Hey Bitches!’.
So, from time to time, I’d go visit his website or run his videos over when I want to laugh. I’d hope you’d have the same perspective on this guy as I do. If you do, check out his website, especially his videos. If not, oh well, that’s alright too.
Yeah! Lest we forget that this is in fact a knitting blog, as a reminder, here is the yarn stash I bought at the Black Sheep Gathering in June. Actually, the cones are the ones from Black Sheep. Oh, do I have plans for knitting up shawls, big, big lacy shawls! But wait! Before we get too giddy with plans, I have yet to finish the CAP SHAWL I started when? when?WHEN?……over a month ago! What a shame!
The cones have at least over 3 thousand yards of sweet, blissful and endless knitting. The green and multi-colored cones, I believe, have only 1 thousand yards each. No matter, yarn is yarn; knitting is knitting.
Why am I broaching this subject here on this blog? Plenty of reasons why. First, I just saw the U.S. crew entry to the 2008 Summer Olympics. It all brought up bittersweet memories of rowing.
Rowing is a very team-oriented sport. It’s not like basketball or baseball, etc., where one or two team members can pull up the game. In rowing, if one crew member is slacking, the boat speed can let you know. Synchronization is the key.
When you row, you do not see where you are going. That’s when a coxswain (cox for short) comes in. A cox is the captain, guide, coach and the great motivator. A cox is actually the most important part of the crew. A good cox can lead you to victories or great finishes. A not-so-good cox can frustrate the team. But every one on the boat is as important as the next. A tall rower has the advantage; but the cox has to be lightweight because that person sits on the stern, the part that may put drag on the boat if weight is over 120. That’s why the cox and the bow (small or light person) need to balance the ends of the boat. The bow should even be lighter weight than the rest.
First year is the novice year. After that, it’s masters level (not necessarily because you become skilled). Being a master rower means you are beyond college level, or over 21 years of age. It takes 4 to 6 years of daily practice to become fully skilled in the art of rowing.
My Experience With Rowing
In 1996, I discovered rowing. My initial interest was in whitewater and recreational kayaking. A strong upper body is needed to be able to kayak. Since I already had stronger legs (due to dancing, maybe?) and wanting to have an all-around workout that would make kayaking more enjoyable and effective, rowing was the answer. I didn’t realized then how rowing could be more addicting than kayaking.
So, I joined the rowing club and took lessons. For about six years, in between making sure that my family needs came first, I made sure I had time for myself. Having to go to rowing practices gave me structure and goal. Looking at it now, at top form I was juggling taking care of #1 priority ~ my son ~ his schooling, his swimming sports, his recreation, quality time with him, bla-bla; #2 priority ~ Mr. Wonderful, who by the way, is like another child to be taken care of (hahaha!); working full-time night shift averaging 4 to 5 hours of sleep; and lastly, rowing. I cannot imagine now how I did it. It couldn’t be done, of course, without the help of and schedule coordination with Mr. Wonderful. But six wonderful years of rowing set up goals and commitments that other aspects of my life were able to conform. I lived and breathed rowing. Knitting (and even dancing) was cast aside.
I was the bow seat (since I was the smallest and lightest) in a crew of 8. We went to competition all over Washington and Oregon. I even competed once on a scull boat. I was dead last. Even with handicapping due to being the oldest, the score adjustment couldn’t get me bumped up. Fourth ‘embarrasing’ place out of 4 competitors. hahahaha!
But no matter, I was lean, very healthy and life was happy. At 108 pounds, that was the lightest I had gotten as an adult. I had muscles. There was alot of practice time commitment, about 2 to 3 times a week. In the wee hours of a weekend day or 3 hours before dusk on week days, a group of 8 dedicated women would carpool to the lake and practice for an hour or so, be it rain, shine, snow, hail, fog, wind, or in darkness. It was always worth it.
However, six years after I joined, I had to stop. And I’m still regretting it to this day. A brief moment on any given day, the thought of rowing comes to mind. Never fails. Such regrets.
There were several reasons why I had to stop: 1) membership had gotten more and more expensive; 2) rigorous practice schedule; 3) there was more to life than just rowing; 4) and the most compelling reason to stop was KNEE INJURY.
I’m so miserable just talking about rowing and not being on the water. Just the sight of water excites me. Kayaking was also my other favorite past time. I had to stop that too because I’m just so miserable not being able to be on the water. Damn it! But wait, I have plenty of kayaking stories for next time.
Mr. Wonderful, at the least, is happy, that I’m doing neither kayaking nor rowing now. Once he asked me why can’t I just go jogging, running, or walking. Kayaking and rowing involve carrying and dragging around long, skinny boats ~ huge pieces of equipment that need huge energy and space. What can I say?! It’s just like knitting…..needing LOTS OF YARN!
Thus, such was the short-lived life of my rowing experience.
Last week, I started harvesting cherries. Look at the abundance! The fruits seem be to getting more plentiful each year. This time around I had to use a ladder to reach up the higher branches. After this initial harvest, there’s still plenty for a few more harvests.
The tedious task of making fresh cherry pie is pitting the cherries.
Aaaaaaaaaaaand here’s the cherry pie! Actually, 2 cherry pies baked as a result of 2 container-full of the harvest.
Sweet and tarty at the same time!
What’s next?
BLUEBERRY PIE SEASON would be starting in two to three weeks. Followed by Apples, Apples Galore in late July or August.
The true sense of the 4th of July celebration has been lost by me. Well, not quite, really.
I’m happy for once I am off from work! So I have an excuse to lose any true sense of the celebration of the American independence Day that came into play in 1776. I am ready to celebrate. PERIOD.
Celebrate it is, with the whole 3-member family off on a work day. Yehay! It’s BBQ season in full swing. Actually, Memorial Day (in late May) usually heralds the beginning of summer. July 4th holiday cements the summer fun and BBQ season with no-holds-barred.
