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It's snowing in Houston! This is a fairly rare occurrence south of I-10. We don't expect it to last even until morning. But for now, it's nice to see the flakes falling.
When I checked just a few minutes ago, the snow was already melted from the garbage can lid. But maybe we will wake up to a blanket of white. And I will have an excuse to wait a little while to go into work!
I'm glad to get it done, and hopeful that my candidate (Obama) will win.
Interesting side note - we have been putting out our Vote Democratic sign every morning, and taking it in in the evening, hoping to prevent another tragic sign-stealing episode. This time, when I came home there was an unsolicited Obama/Biden sign in our yard. Makes me wonder. Did the local Democratic boosters just distribute signs, or did our thief feel a little remorse and replace the signs they stole?
As a friend on Flickr says... this is life in motion. We move so fast through our busy lives, and sometimes miss the wonders right under our noses. This is certainly not a new comment - but it bears repeating.
A news article I read recently said that a byproduct of the worriesome economy is that people spend more time with their families. So there is a silver lining to the gloomy clouds.
Take a moment to see the fleeting beauty of nature. All we have is NOW.
I've spent a lot of time looking at roof damage lately... fortunately not my personal roof, but the compay that I work for has had lots of roof "issues". Here, the men are having a meeting 40 feet in the air... discussing the holes in various roofs. I didn't climb the ladder, begging off because of bad knees. Yes, it probably was a wimpy thing to do, but the older I get the less I find I have to prove to anyone.
I grew up having limited access to 24 hour electricity, so I already appreciated it. But it's been more than 35 years since I had to live without power and it sure is easy to get used to comfort! Especially in a hot, humid environment - and in a house that isn't set up to work without it.The following zip codes are estimated to have substantial power restoration by the end of day on Monday, September 22: 77024, 77031, 77032, 77039, 77040, 77041, 77042, 77050, 77055, 77072, 77077, 77079, 77080, 77082, 77083, 77084, 77092, 77099, 77336, 77338, 77339, 77346, 77357, 77365, 77373, 77386, 77396, 77459, 77477, 77478, 77479, 77511, 77515, 77534, 77577, 77583
I'm hopeful.
This is what our street looked like on Saturday 9/13. There was some flooding but the tree damage isn't too severe. You will note that there is a light on in the house to our left. That house has power. The house just to my left (invisible behind it's dangling pine branch) has power in PART of the house. Apparently one leg of the power is on and one is off. At least, that is what an electrician told my neighbor. Odd. This may also be true in our house since my husband told me that he noticed the internet cable modem lights were on when we were closing up the house to leave.
We decided that since there was no power and no water pressure, staying in Houston would be silly when we have a perfectly good house in South Padre to go to. So around 2pm we packed up and left. I've got a few pictures of the drive down but it was not dramatic at all. We found gas outside of Victoria and paid $3.59 - not a bad price. The trip took 5.5 hours which is faster than normal. There was hardly any traffic.
The clouds bands of Ike, spinning overhead and lit by the setting sun.
The sunset was awesome - filling me with awe. We went for a quick drive down Westheimer, to see the town. My husband was hoping the movie theatre was open, but (as I hoped) it was not. So we made do with the powerful colors of the sunset and the dramatically moaning wind.
The town is pretty quiet, with some traffic but almost nothing open. A very few gas stations were open as we went out but were closed by the time we came back, less than 20 minutes later. In a 5 mile drive we saw at least 5 police cruisers - far more than usual. I guess it's a good idea, since all those stores would be a temptation to some people.
The wind is getting stronger but we have had almost no rain yet.
A miracle has occurred. We heard a chainsaw this morning and my husband went and talked to them... they were taking down a neighbor's tree. The three man crew agreed to come and take the limbs off our sick sycamore tree. And for a reasonable price, too! So the most dangerous, heavy limbs are down now and they will come back at the end of October to take out the rest of the tree. It was hit by lightning 3 years ago and has never truly recovered.
The weather right now is beginning to deteriorate. Winds are up a little, and the rain is just beginning to drift in. I am SO grateful to these men, who were in just the right place to help us. THANK YOU!
This little squirrel is gathering nuts in the early morning sunshine before Hurricane Ike gets to Houston. I wonder where he will spend the storm hours?
We are expecting the storm to be in full force by about midnight tonight, and it should be already moved on by noon or so. Amazing how fast it is projected to get out of here.
As you can see, right now it is very calm. As a matter of fact, I'm getting ready to go outside and trim the Rangoon Vine, which has really gone crazy and is reaching out all over the place.
A bit comforting to know that we are not the only ones staying here. As a matter of fact, I talked to our next door neighbor just a couple minutes ago, and he said that he didn't think anyone in our street was leaving. I don't feel quite so foolhardy... on the other hand maybe we are all crazy.
At a time full of anxiety and fear, remember that the sun also rises tomorrow... these things will pass...
Houston is preparing for Hurricane Ike, which is expected (at this writing) to round the western edges of the city and head on up to Northeast Texas. We personally have prepared food and water for the recommended three days both here and in Padre. Our gas tanks are full too.
Tomorrow my husband will get on the bus for Brownsville, and then on to South Padre. I will be here, to watch this house and also handle my responsibilities at work.
Don't worry about us. We will be fine! :)
These little innocents remind us to live in the Now - no brooding about the past or obsessing about the future. We only have Now.
I'm traveling, seems like I haven't spent much time at home lately. Visited my parents for several days - lots of fun but not much sleep. Now in Tampa for work, and back to Houston on Tuesday. But only two days and I'll be back onthe road again, this time to South Padre for the Labor Day holiday. Hopefully the weather will be cooperative!
Sorry to be such a poor correspondent...
Had a lovely visit from my brother and his family - including their Senegal Parrot, Sam. He's got an agressive looking beak (the bird, not my brother!) but actually is pretty peaceful unless you sneak up on him. They have had him since 2001 so in Senegal Parrot Years he is about middle age. Oddly so is my brother! :)
My husband just sent me this photograph, one of five that he took during the time that Hurricane Dolly was pummeling South Padre Island. Just stunning.
We have been here in South Padre since Thursday morning. The beach, as you can see, is significantly eroded but the dunes are still in place. I'm impressed by how hard-packed the sand is - I guess the constant pounding of waves and rain will do that to sand. There are a surprising number of visitors here, too!
The house has fared pretty well. We have found a couple areas where water has come in, looks like it blew in through the brick on the western side of the house, and also down the common wall we share with our neighbor. Neither is very serious. I've wiped down the walls with a 10% bleach solution to kill the mold, and we will let the walls dry and see if the mold comes back. The house has been vacuumed twice, the windows cleaned, and (the nastiest job) the food thrown out from the fridge. The fence is propped up but will have to be replaced on two sides I think. The backyard neighbor has really bad damage (his house is quite old I think). The trees and shrubs all over the island are stripped of leaves. Our bougainvillea is just starting to put out brave new leaves on its bare branches.
The neighbor's cats have been invisible. But this morning I saw Nerino walking across the street, and Little Mama and her very vocal kitten arrived on the back patio as well. We put down food and milk, and they scarfed it down in no time flat. Still no sign of my husband's favorite, Faithful.
The power has been on since at least Wednesday, and the water is safe (since Saturday, according to Laguna Madre Water).
We went swimming yesterday. The water is fine - sandy green as the Island Breeze calls it - but the waves are big and the current moderately strong. Makes it fun to sit on the beach and just go in every half hour or so, instead of staying out there. Maybe today it will be calmer.
This photo was taken by my husband, who is riding out the storm on South Padre Island. I was talking to him as he was taking these pictures, and all he could do was say "wow!" over and over again. Here in Houston the sunset was pinky orange too, but not quite as nice.
As you can see, the surf is quite wild-looking. He is planning on going down to the beach in the morning (after the storm passes of course) and taking a few more pictures. I hope his night isn't too rough.
No surprise, it's hot in Houston! I think that is part of why I haven't posted much lately. Too hot to do anything really. As they say - it's not the heat, it's the humidity. Believe it or not, Houston isn't the most humid city.
According to World Facts & Figures, the city with the highest average humidity is St. Paul Island, Alaska! I was surprised at the number of colder places, but then I've never really lived in a cold climate. Those of you with more experience may understand that better. (By the way, the least humid was Milford, Utah, with a morning reading of zero humidity, and an afternoon reading of 34%.)
Houston actually is pretty far down the list at 27th. Cities ahead of it include New Orleans, Galveston, and Brownsville. I've also eliminated the following locations from any future intinerary: The Caroline Islands (except for Yap, which I'd like to see for it's famous stone money), Guam, Marshall Islands, American Samoa - and a whole lot of Alaska.
Or maybe not. I've visited lots of "uncomfortable" places, and I had a great time at all of them. The weather was a factor and something that I remember - but it was part of the place, part of the experience.
Which brings me back to summer in Houston . The real source of my ennui is familiarity. For the last 17 years, every summer has been hot and humid and full of mosquitos. The air is thick and I am reluctant to breathe it in. The air smells wet, the grass grows green. Moss creeps up the bricks, my camera lens fogs when I leave the house. My orchids hang in the live oak tree and bloom like they are in Thailand.
It may be hot, and humid - but it is home.
My nephew and I built this sandscastle while we were vacationing on the Island (South Padre that is). I am a particular fan of drip castles and this is easily the biggest one I've ever done. We had a fine time!
Sandcastle building is a meditative endeavor - the sand running through your fingers, the waves rushing up and down the beach, kids laughing, the sun creating sparkles of light on the wettest parts of the castle. Sometimes a big wave comes in and part of the building collapses. When you leave, the building stays but for a few hours at the most. But I can always visit the drip-towers in my memory, looking out to sea.
I know I've been silent for a long time - and this picture tells you a little about where I've been. My sister and her family came to visit us down on South Padre Island - we had a wonderful time. The Island is a great place to just hang out. Not a lot of big sights to see (althoughSchlitterbahn Water Park got high marks) but plenty of space for a family to run and play and eat.
The artist Wyland painted this wall in May 1994. It is part of the South Padre Island Convention Center. The side where we were playing around (the south side) also has an area of native trees and flowers to attract birds and butterflies. The boys had a great time making shadows in the spotlights!
The weather cooperated most of the time so we were able to spend time building sandcastles and lazing around on the beach. Afternoon naps, feeding the local cats, investigating local stores (Art Sea has some nice art and cool stuff!), eateries... all good fun. Some places I haven't been before, like Fishbones - really good fried shrimp in an entertaining venue. Or the local pizzeria, D'Pizza Joint , which features a brick, wood-fired oven and lots of local color. (Good pepperoni, by the way!)
My sister and I had not vacationed together since we were children, so this was a special week. I am so glad it was possible!
We both look so young! Dad was still in medical school, and I was maybe 6 months old? Not sure. My mom took the picture. She told me that at one time, they had $0.13 in the bank. But they never skimped on photos - there are quite a few that have survived the years so I suppose there were even more.
My dad... well... what can anyone really say about their dad?
Mine is
I feel so lucky to be their daughter. Thanks Dad and Mom!
In addition I have subscribed to these periodicals:
And one blog... Tetrapod Zoology.
These reading materials would obviously not easily fit in any carry-on bag, or briefcase, much less a purse. And yet I can read any of them anytime I want, just by pulling it out of my purse. The Kindle is convenient, easy to read, and conserves paper. It gives me access to the reading materials I prefer. I think it fits very well into A Normal Life!
What do you think? Is the Kindle worth buying? Would you use it?
I remember these trees lining the dirt roads, and somewhere there is a charming slide of my little sister swinging from a low branch with such a sweet smile and dusty bare feet. That image of her lives in my heart...
We had quite a few other trees on the station as well - oil palms, mangos (the best were the little ones we called "peach" mangos"), avocados, oxheart, eucalyptus, kapok, and chalmoogra. These last were planted by my father, to see how they would prosper in our climate.
I've trained it over an arch in the back yard. In the photo below, the arch is spotlighted by the setting sun. On the other side is a pot planted with bronze fennel and a Giant Passion Flower vine given to me by my brother. The bronze fennel is a favorite with butterflies. I'm looking forward to seeing the giant passion flowers... there are 4 buds coming!
Early summer is of course the best time of year for many gardens, and that is certainly true of ours. As you can see, we have lots of blooming things, and this photo shows about half of the back garden. In our part of Houston we are in Zone 9, a semi-tropical zone. Which means that the passion flower stays out all year, as well as our orchids (not visible). The bougainvillea is nice this year (far left of photo) - I've finally wired it to the fence.
In the back right corner, we have a large Celeste fig tree, which has yielded one ripe fig so far (on May 10) this year. But it is completely loaded with ripening fruit. My goal is to get more than half harvested before the critters get to it.
You will notice the large green tree on the other side of our back fence. This is a pecan tree, source of much nourishment for the neighborhood squirrels. It has been heavily hacked by the guys who keep the electrical lines clear of interference, so the shape is a bit strange. I believe it is a native pecan, since it rarely seems to have trouble with worms or blight. Our neighbors to the east (on the right of this photo) also have a young pecan, but often it has those problems so it's probably a hybrid.
In the foreground, there is one of several crepe myrtles. This particular one is only 4 years old! It has gorgeous white papery flowers, exfoliating bark, and will eventually be almost 30 feet tall. Around its feet are Indian Blankets, Rudbeckia, miniature agapanthus, daylilies, a tiny fragrant pink rose from my friend Ev, and rosemary. There are also 2 strawberry guava trees which may someday actual ripen fruit. Meanwhile their powderpuff blossoms in spring are pretty.
These garden beds are only 4 years old, so I'm happy with our progress. I am not the most attentive gardener - weeding is something that gets done at odd times in the early morning cool or late evening dusk, all the while fighting off mosquitos. Watering is a pleasurable task, always done by hand. We water the grass in times of drought and certainly never fertilize it. The lawn has its share of bugs and patchiness, but St. Augustine grass is very hardy and can usually manage to outgrow anything. Our goal is a garden that more-or-less takes care of itself - and we are getting there!
Several years ago, I made a 3-week trip to visit relatives in South Africa and Namibia. One of the truly memorable things that occurred during that trip (ah, so much more to write about...) was this encounter. I am working without notes here, so I may come back and edit this post when those are available.
My cousin and I drive from Palmwag (pronounced pah-lem-bach), through Sesfontein to the Skeleton Coast Camp. Not very many tourists choose this route, but then again, not many tourists are like my cousin. Her Toyota truck is outfitted with two demijohns of petrol, three extra tires on wheels, lots of tools, two sleeping bags, and even a bit of food. We have vague verbal directions, mostly based on time from one landmark to another. What more could you need? Most people fly in but once or twice a year the staff or someone crazy (like us) drives in. The guidebooks suggest a satellite phone and at least one other vehicle traveling with you if you insist on driving north of Sesfontein. These are however only details, and take all the adventure out of it!
The road is sometimes obvious, sometimes a mere suggestion, and sometimes completely non-existent. But somehow, my cousin manages to re-find the trail every time we lose it, and we bounce over rocks, slither over sand, slide down banks, follow dry riverbeds, and find our way inexorably towards the Camp. Fortunately our directions hold up and also fortunately, somewhere outside of Puros we find someone going our way. They lead us in, which is at least another hour (or two?) of driving. The entire trip of maybe 100 miles feels like a lifetime but really only lasts about 6 hours. (On the return trip, when we knew where we were going, we manage to average 18mph.)
Those of you who have stayed at the Camp know its stark beauty, and the wonderful, dedicated staff that make the experience so much richer. We are introduced to our two guides, Chris and Chris. Our Chris is dark-haired, full of mischievous sparkle, confident and so capable that I have no doubt we were in good hands. The other Chris seems to step out of a Hemingway story, with a big leather hat and a story to account for his missing hand, taken by a crocodile somewhere in the past. The morning after we arrive, we go on an all-day game drive with both Chrises.
There are 5 or 6 of us in each of the two vehicles. We bounce along the rocky, sandy roads, stopping here and there to see the wildlife. They look just as interested in us too. A young giraffe pokes his head up over the scrub. Fat healthy gemsbok (oryx) scramble up the hillsides. Birds everywhere, including a rare vulture that I've now forgotten the name of. Jackals, and antelope too, although not very many. We stop at a Himba village to see how these remarkable people manage to make a living herding cattle and goats in the desert. We have tea under an ancient ironwood tree. And, we find elephants. There are perhaps 10 - we spend maybe 20-30 minutes just watching them as they slowly browse the bush. This is a dream fulfilled, to see the famous desert elephants!
The rest of the trip, while exciting, can't top this. We stop for lunch in a dry river bed, and get stuck in the sand. We drive along the Horuseb river, have a flat tire, see impala and (for my cousin the desert dweller this is most exciting) running water in the open desert. Driving back to camp in the dim dusk, we look forward to dinner and bed.
Dinner is a grand sharing of adventures in many languages, and then we gather at the fire and drink too much sherry and whiskey, singing in German and Afrikaans, English and American. Listening to Chris recite Tom Waits lyrics in a Bob Dylan voice far into the night. Sparks from the fire fly up to the burning stars above. I stumble back to our tent and fall asleep thinking of the return drive, map-less but not lost, anticipating the wonders of tomorrow.
My father took this picture too... I've always loved the original slide, which glows in the setting sun. Obviously I have altered the original, using Virtual Painter.
Sunsets at Kimpese went very quickly - not much twilight when you are near the equator. There were only a few minutes between light and darkness. I remember the sound of the doves cooing, calling one another. And the evening breeze, sighing in the tall grass.
The first in an occasional series, no particular order. Photos stir memories, layers of smells, sounds, and emotions. Sometimes the photos are mine, but just as often they were taken by others. We all have these moments of memory.
1964 fishing at lake neuchatel
My father took this photo. We were living in Switzerland. My parents were spending a few months learning French, preparing for mission work in Congo. My brothers are "fishing" at Lake Neuchatel. The air is so clear... it didn't happen very often that you could see the Alps.
My experience in Neuchatel was mixed. Since I didn't speak French, I was placed back in 1st grade which really hurt my feelings. Even worse I couldn't understand a word they were saying. And the school contained curriculum that I found boring and very difficult - specifically needlework. But all the girls had to do it. I still have the little sampler I made, beige with red and blue cross stitching at the top and bottom, frayed around the edges and soft with age now.
On the other hand the school was inside the castle, and we had to go across the moat (dry) and through the big gates, all on cobbled streets. I remember walking home with my brother just before Christmas, looking in the sparkling store windows, trying to find a present for Mom, our boots crunching in the snow. We (or more likely, Dad) bought her a beautiful crystal dish. She still has it. And every time I see it, I remember.
French was acquired somehow - it still impedes my attempts to learn Italian. The year we spent in Switzerland was full of changes, but the purity of this moment - the three of us standing at the edge of a luminous lake, darkness closing in but the light still on the far mountains... time stops.