Archive for March, 2006
hydrate me
Mar 29th
I bought this nice little thermos from the Smithsonian (and paid $15.00 more for it because it has the Smithsonian logo on it than I would at Target). Anyway, I got it to take hot chai to work with me – so it would be made the way I like it, at home, where it costs MUCH less than it does at the coffee shops.
So I’m driving to work today, sipping on my chai and I start thinking about coffee and teas.
I saw an ad for Coca-Cola (and I’m the poster child for Coke, darlings…it is my drink of choice) that said you could drink a soft drink in place of water and still get the hydration you need throughout the day.
Then I heard the same thing about coffee.
But I started thinking about this. How many people drink plain coffee these days? How many drink it without the foam and milk or soy mixed in.
And you remember a few years ago when the reports were that we didn’t get enough milk in our systems? That we were having to deal with osteoporosis more because we didn’t get the right nutrients, usually found in milk, in our earlier years? I made it a point to have some dairy once a day (and still do).
I make chai with milk. Millions and millions of people are drinking their coffee made with milk – lattes, macchiatos, cappuccinos, and various other versions.
So now we’re getting our milk and getting hydrated. All from the miracles of coffee and tea.
Whoa. Who woulda known?
fire!
Mar 28th
I’ve lived in large cities. However, I’ve never lived in the middle of the downtown area where I was surrounded by high rises and lived in a high rise myself.
I stayed with friends in D.C. who live downtown on the 10th floor of a building.
As I lounged around in bed one morning, I noticed that the sounds of fire truck sirens were different there than there are in more open places. They don’t have an ebb and flow sound.
It sounded like a wail. It pierced my heart and made me want to cry.
It was the oddest response.
The way it echoes off of the walls of the buildings, bouncing off of corners and cruising down streets, the siren wails out its call.
I thought of the Sirens in Greek myths and wondered if that’s what it was like (okay, is it weird that I think of Sirens while on vacation and associate it with the sirens of a fire truck???).
The Sirens calls were said to be lovely and heart-breaking all at once.
That’s exactly how the fire sirens sounded to me. Lovely and heart-breaking.
invisible empire
Mar 27th
“The government, which was designed for the people, has got into the hands of the bosses and their employers, the special interests. An invisible empire has been set up above the forms of democracy.”
~ Woodrow Wilson ~
I’m standing in front of the Capitol Building, talking to my brother on the phone. I’m complaining that I can’t get a good reflection in the reflecting pool because of the wind.
He says to me, “I heard on the news that Congress has only been in session 9 days since January.”
I think about that. Nine days. One day less than my vacation.
And they get paid what? $150,000 + a year. Of OUR money.
For what? To implement rascist immigration laws. To attack a woman’s body. To inact regulations that are aggressively against our civil and personal rights.
Nine days.
How would you like to do an ineffective job 9 days out of 90 and get paid a princely sum? I know I would.
I think that my time in D.C. really gave me a different perspective on how disconnected our congresspeople are from us. They have no clue what it’s like to be a normal citizen of the United States.
And really, it makes me question if we are given equal representation or if only those who have power and money are represented.
radiator
Mar 26th
american life in poetry: column 052
by ted kooser, u.s. poet laureate
What a marvelous gift is the imagination, and each of us gets one at birth, free of charge and ready to start up, get on, and ride away. Can there be anything quite so homely and ordinary as a steam radiator? And yet, here, Connie Wanek, of Duluth, Minnesota, nudges one into play.
Radiator
Mittens are drying on the radiator,
boots nearby, one on its side.
Like some monstrous segmented insect
the radiator elongates under the window.Or it is a beast with many shoulders
domesticated in the Ice Age.
How many years it takes
to move from room to room!Some cage their radiators
but this is unnecessary
as they have little desire to escape.Like turtles they are quite self-contained.
If they seem sad, it is only the same sadness
we all feel, unlovely, growing slowly cold.
Reprinted from “Bonfire,” New Rivers Press, 1997, by permission of the author. Copyright (c) 1997 by Connie Wanek. Her most recent book is “Hartley Field,” from Holy Cow! Press. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress, and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.
reality
Mar 23rd
“And it’s true we are immune
When fact is fiction and TV reality
And today the millions cry
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die.
~ U2 ~
There is something you don’t realize about Arlington National Cemetery until you are there and seeing it in person.
It is huge.
There are thousands and thousands and thousands of headstones dotting the country side. It seems never ending.
You look out from a hill, over the city of Washington, D.C. and you can see the great monuments of Washington, Lincoln, and Jefferson. Above these headstones sits Arlington House, the home of Robert E. Lee.
Arlington caused me to pause and think. I had a hard time not crying when I saw a fresh grave site. I had a hard time not wanting to scream at the injustices. I had a hard time not thinking about my grandfathers, great-uncles, and my dad and their service in the military.
I had to stop and think about the discrimination that was shown even here, in our national cemetery. People with prestige have large headstones. They are not the simple ones that we see in the photos (like those to in this photo) but are grand and detailed. And there is a small section, at the very edge of the cemetery, that is dedicated to the U.S. Colored Troops. And a memorial that is dedicated to women but most of the photographs inside are of men.
It caused me to pause. And think. And hurt. And feel.
need some wheels
Mar 21st
Okay, not really. I don’t mind walking around cities but when you’re walking, walking, and walking to get from place A to place B and then you’re walking in place A AND place B, on concrete, marble, or whatever other hard surface they can find to line the floors/streets with, your feet are bound to get tired.
I have probably walked 30 miles or so in the last few days. Georgetown, Arlington, the Capitol, the Smithsonian, to the Metro stations (not that I take them all of the time). I take long ways around to get to a coffee shop for a chai or a muffin on my way. I will walk and walk to find the right thing for lunch.
By the time I collapse (and I do mean collapse) into bed at night, my legs and feet are worn out.
But my heart and mind are happy.
marching
Mar 19th
american life in poetry: column 051
by ted kooser, u.s. poet laureate
Walt Whitman’s poems took in the world through a wide-angle lens, including nearly everything, but most later poets have focused much more narrowly. Here the poet and novelist Jim Harrison nods to Whitman with a sweeping, inclusive poem about the course of life.
Marching
At dawn I heard among bird calls
the billions of marching feet in the churn
and squeak of gravel, even tiny feet
still wet from the mother’s amniotic fluid,
and very old halting feet, the feet
of the very light and very heavy, all marching
but not together, criss-crossing at every angle
with sincere attempts not to touch, not to bump
into each other, walking in the doors of houses
and out the back door forty years later, finally
knowing that time collapses on a single
plateau where they were all their lives,
knowing that time stops when the heart stops
as they walk off the earth into the night air.
“Marching,” from Jim Harrison’s “Saving Daylight” (2006) is reprinted by permission of Copper Cayon Press. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress, and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.
traveling
Mar 18th
The airplane flights were interesting.
I flew out of Flagstaff on one of the Mesa Airlines flights. They are little airplanes and I had the middle seat in the back row (5 seats across, my legs went down the aisle). I sat next to a woman with a very small child who was bouncing around. But, really, it wasn’t so bad.
I had 40 minutes to run all the way across the terminal to get to my next flight. I don’t know why they do that.
So I used the people-movers and got there as fast as I could. I got there with 15 minutes to spare and was able to buy something to eat on the long flight.
I had a really big guy in front of me, another big guy behind me, and a fairly large guy next to me (I was surrounded by men. The guy in front of me kept pushing back and my knees were hitting the seat (I’m pretty tall and have long legs). The guy behind me kept pushing his knees into my kidneys (and I hadn’t even reclined my seat). They guy next to me spread his legs wide so mine were pushed to the side and he took the armrests so my arms were pushed to the side.
By the time I got off the plane, I was sore. I had to take time to stretch and get my muscles back in order.
–
Yesterday we went to the National Zoo. It’s a free zoo here in the Capital. We took the Metro and walked past a bunch of Irish pubs that were celebrating even at 10 a.m. It was making me laugh.
The zoo was wonderful. I got to see the baby panda and he was delightful. The elephants, giraffe, and great apes were amazing.
Today I’m going to wander around and get acclimated to the city. It’s hard for me to know which way is which without mountains so I have to figure out how to know which way is which.
on the move
Mar 15th
Tomorrow at this time, I will be on the airplane, speeding my way toward this nation’s capital, Washington, DC.
I’m very excited. I’m going to see some old friends, see a new city, and traipse around museums. I can’t think of a better way to spend my spring break.
There is so much to see there. People are suggesting things left and right and EVERYONE is telling me to take lot’s and lot’s of pictures.
Hah. That’s funny. As if I need to be told to do something that I absolutely love to do.
This is a city that I’ve wanted to visit for a very long time. I’ve put it off the past few years because I kept taking my vacations in Vancouver to visit someone. This time, though, it worked out perfectly.
I’ve seen so many pictures of the city and have spent time dreaming about seeing the sights myself.
Isn’t that funny? I’ve dreamt about DC. Mostly people would say Paris or Rome or Athens. Me…I dream of DC.
I think part of it is because I’m a history buff. Plus, there are museums!!!
Did I mention museums?
Heh.
I’m such a dork, I swear. ;-)
snow
Mar 14th
I took the photo to the right last year but it could have been taken this weekend. Actually, I think the snow was deeper this weekend. Dakota wouldn’t venture into it unless I made a path for him (finicky and spoiled dog that he is!).
I got stuck. Again. Of course.
I keep saying I need a truck just for these times.
Living on a dirt road out in the country can have its perks. Driving a little car through snow that comes half-way up the door does not add to those perks, however.
Then the winds start and the drifts get bigger and bigger.
I had to dig out three times.
Then I fell down my front stairs because they are on the north side and get no sun and the ice had built up overnight and I was going too fast and…
Crash!
Ouchie, ouchie, ouchie. I have bruises all over my body and I ache.
But I’m happy for the snow. :-)
