Friday, January 20, 2017

waking up this morning ...

It was beautiful this morning in Wimbledon - a thick frost on the ground; a clear blue sky - and I looked out onto the garden from the room that I've been sleeping in - well, on and off - since 1961, and everything seemed very quiet and peaceful...

Oh, come on: let's try that again.  It was still dark when I got up - got up finally, because I couldn't stop myself checking the news all the way through the night (what did I expect? that Trump would keel over with the stress of it all?  That a missile would land on DC?), and in any case, I was just so worried about what's going to happen.  Trump's speech - and no, I couldn't prevent myself watching it, mitigated a tiny bit by doing so on BBC, with bemused, horrified, cynical, wry bits of commentary accompanying it.  It was certainly not  a speech addressed to me, as a non-citizen of the US, and it didn't exactly encourage me to race for citizenship (unless I should do so immediately, so I don't get deported when I demonstrate).  And in any case, I couldn't sleep for anxiety about the paper I'm giving tomorrow; anxiety about my parents; anxiety, anxiety, anxiety.  I was, let's just say, grateful for the sunshine here, and deeply glad that it rained on the Orange One's parade.

Thursday, January 19, 2017

tradition, revived

For a long time, every time that I returned to spend a night at my parents, I'd post a picture of the little vase of flowers left in my room.  I'm not sure what caused me to lay off that practice - maybe they were missing once or twice, and then I was apprehensive that they mightn't reappear ... But here they are, against a dark and frigid night.  Flying late out of LA, so that it's already getting dark by the time that one's exiting Heathrow, does some strange things to one's sense of what day it is.

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Trojans vs Trump

Trojans vs Trump has a pleasing alliteration to it - a good banner to have at our Solidarity Rally, organized by faculty, addressed by faculty, to assure students and others that we stand with them on immigration issues in particular, but in general against all forms of hate speech, macro and micro aggressions, and so on.  Here's Tania Modleski, kicking us off, and the numbers grew - it would have been wonderful to have had thousands, but those who were here heard a stirring set of short speeches and readings (I read part of an Adrienne Rich poem, and started off by saying that I'm a documented immigrant deeply aware of the privilege I bear by virtue of my skin color).  And as Michael Moore is saying on TV as I type: many of us are saying that this is going to be bad, very bad (and when did he stop wearing a Rutgers baseball cap?  I miss that ...).

A close-up of the banner, more crowd - and below, a participating dog, with matching socks on its human.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

the astute eye

will note that one of the very first things that we did on arriving back in LA was to hang the chile wreath from our NM front door onto the door here (that'll give any super-curious raccoons a nasty shock).  The sympathetic reader will understand that the fact that we have to leave again at 7.15 a.m. (Alice is teaching; I have to go with her in order to go onwards to a conference in London) will mean that all correspondence, rational thought etc is suspended until tomorrow.

Monday, January 16, 2017

not the best travel weather

Pretty though this is, it wasn't exactly what one hopes to see when one opens one's front door before starting a long drive ... but all was fine, and indeed, the picturesque snow and fog had started to lift and melt before we were truly packed up and on the road ...

Sunday, January 15, 2017

photographing fish - the easy way

These fish were golden, illuminated, and above all not swimming around.  In the window of Luca Decor on Canyon Road, these beautiful lamps are by Lara Fisher, and their fiber paper skins are embellished with different words and images - very subtle, very seductive.  These beautiful, expensive lamps ... I would love one, but, well, imagine what kind of angling the cats would engage in ... On the other hand, they are a great deal easier to photograph than the kind that wriggle and slide and duck around in water.  I'm sure, once again, that they're calling out to my inner Piscean.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

jammin' at 41

A Santa Fe reunion today, with 6 members, I think, of Carleton College Class of - well, mostly '72, including the one - Alice - who left for the more historical pastures of Macalester.  Most of them (so I'm not entirely sure why I'm billing it as a reunion) have been in and around here if not quite ever since, then at least much of the time - in Santa Fe, in Dixon, in Soccorro.  So our living room was rocking to a variety of sounds ...

... and if anyone wonders why I know all the words to the Stones' "Mother's Little Helper," let me take you back to my school - that is, when I was about 13 - and we somehow convinced our hapless, despairing music teacher, Miss Harris, that it would make an ideal entry for the Junior School Annual Folk Song competition.  Since we spent a lot of time in Singing - a weekly class - the rest of the year learning "Early One Morning," and "The British Grenadiers" and a dreadful song that started "Cuckoo cuck-oo-oo/Our joyful rover/At last you're o-o-o-ver/The ocean blu-ue," this was, shall we say, not quite in the expected mold.  We didn't win the contest.