It seemed like only yesterday

Growing up in the 1970's I remember always trying to catch Paul Harvey's snippets on the radio. I loved his voice and distinct way of speaking and of course his stories. My brother and I would always try to guess who he was speaking about before the story was over. It's been years since I have heard The Rest of the Story on the radio but hearing that he had passed away made me a bit anxious because suddenly, the passing of time became all too clear.

This Lenten Season

I was in church, in line, waiting to receive my ashes and I still didn't know what I should give up. I always give up chocolate but that doesn't seem like much of a sacrifice since I'm not a huge fan. I'll have a candy bar, feel ill and never touch one again for months. Boxed chocolate morsels are what I should specifically give up. I can eat a few of those all week before I actually feel ill. I don't like chocolate cake, milk or chocolate covered anything. So, what to give up?

Profanity? That's a good one. I am quite capable of cussing up a storm. Not something I am proud of but a habit I fell into post-7th grade cat fight. It's juvenile, ineffective and just boring. I don't cuss much, it's when I am with my oldest group of girlfriends that I fall into that habit. It's ugly at my age. It's funny hearing kids and older people do it (still ineffective) but at my age it's crude. I could give up all sweets in general , that would guarantee certain torture or failure. Maybe not, I only seem to be offered sweets when with my in-laws. So it's not quite that challenging. Give up watching movies? That's equal to self flagellation. No... sacrifice, not self punishment. Perhaps the answer is the blog. Give up the blog for 40 days. Though I can't say that would be challenging, then again I may be surprised. I found out yesterday that Ash Wednesday is not a Holy Day of Obligation. Yet just as many people show up for Ash Wednesday as they do for Christmas mass per the priest.

Incidentally, I remember my first Ash Wednesday. I was in the first grade, at Sacred Heart Academy, and under the impression that the ashes came from burning the bones of dead Saints. Something I became confused about when we took a tour of the altar in kindergarten. I wondered what happened when they ran out of Saints. I think I confused the placement of Saint's relics under the altar with the blessing of the ashes or something. I know the idea emerged from that tour. So I thought ashes were rather scary to receive and it would be my first year to receive them. Sister Stephan Jane told us not to touch our foreheads or remove the smudge. Why would I, it seemed so gross.

We were all at the grotto in the corner of the school yard, climbing all over the Virgin Mary statue. That corner was always hard to "reserve". Everyone wanted to hang there because it was shady and standing or sitting on the statue offered a nice vantage point or lift into the trees, when the nuns were not looking. Someone said the ashes smelled like poop and I offered the idea to someone next to me that they smelled that way because they were from the burned bones of Saints. This got passed around and created a panic that Sister Stephan Jane and the principal quickly and sternly corrected. I remember we toured the altar again before the school year ended.

Favorite TV Beatniks

When I was a kid I always loved it when a beatnik made an appearance on my tv shows:
The Beverly Hillbillies-Clampett A Go-Go
The Addams Family Meets a Beatnik
The Munsters: Far Out Munsters
The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show: How To Be A Beatnik

Of course there was always a beatnik on Route 66 and The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis.

Mini OO Sha

We visited Del Rio this weekend. Took a lot of random photos of things around the town. We need to take our bikes down next time. As always, I returned with a lot of ideas and feeling so much better. Open space always makes me feel great and seeing my family is the best.

Trio of faves and Herriman

"An immediate progenitor of the Beat Generation and its roots could be traced back to the glee of America, the honesty of America, its wild, self-believing individuality"

~ Kerouac referring to Herriman's Krazy Cat Comic

I just discovered Frank Capra also enjoyed Krazy Cat. So Krazy Cat, Kerouac and Capra, a trio of faves.

I have always loved George Herriman's style of drawing. There is something about it always makes me think of restraint though.

Pam Kueber needs her own show

I get to watch HGTV at my gym for 45 minutes while I use their treadmill. Now that the housing bubble has popped it is weird watching the house hunting shows. I am mostly interested in the landscaping shows. Though the other day they took a huge yard and turned it into a putting green with astro turf and everything. Lately they have been featuring rich people. Lots of rich people. I followed them on their search for the perfect beach house in Honduras. They could choose from three beach mansions that cost between $475K-$775K. It was either watch that show or some terrible VH1 reality spectacle. Glad we don't have cable.

The renovation shows don't thrill me like they did. They tear up vintage pink bathrooms and cute yellow kitchens to put in more modern looking designs. I can understand the desire and absolute need for tearing out the old. However, I think it's tacky to replace with designs that are too slick and modern for the home. On the outside it still looks like a modest, mid-century home and on the inside it's a trendy NYC loft. Tacky. There is a lot of tacky on that channel and I may not have noticed it before. I used to watch it when I lived in an apartment and maybe owning a home make s a difference.

I would love to see a show that showcases retro renovations hosted by people who know what they are doing. HGTV needs to give Pam Kueber, Publisher of RetroRenovation.com & SavethePinkBathrooms.com her own show! She is awesome and has impeccable taste and expertise. Retro renovating is a lot less expensive and looks so much better in a vintage home.

Bike Porn

I have entered the world of Bike Porn, all those beautiful bikes, so many that I want, so forbidden, so unattainable yet so very desirable and just so many to choose from. They are also so pricey. Poop.

Teehee, my friends and I spent quite some time on the computer the other night just looking at gorgeous bikes we wish we could have. Can't have just one. I think if I had the room and the cash I'd limit myself to seven. Maybe.
We loved the Bianchi Milano Citta
The Batavus Old Dutch
The Felt 1903 and Felt Twin and Jasmine for those quirky days (teehee)
The Pashley Guv'nor and Princess Sovereign

We aren't into cycling and those racing bikes. Squeezing yourself into one of those rubber suits just to ride a bike is just sick. Teehee.

Anyway, looking around town I have yet to see the type of of bike I dream about. Nothing comes close to what I like and look for online. They are all so regular. Yes, I have a bike and it's a rather cute and cool bike but I still find my eyes wandering. Bike dreaming, for now. Just digging the bike porn. No way, nothing is airbrushed.

Antonieta Rivas Mercado

April 21, 1900-February 12, 1931

Antonieta Rivas Mercado is one of my ancestors. She is my Abuelita's cousin. Some family members are doing research to see if it is possible to cut her out of the family tree. It's been a few years and so far, they have not been successful. I doubt they ever will, she is definitely family. I don't find her so terrible. The Benson Latin American Collection at The University of Texas has the love letters she sent to Vasconcelos. I should really see them sometime.

Done!

Getting away

These days we seem to be up before 8am. We were never late sleepers but that's pretty early. This morning I woke up at 7am and went to sit outside. There was a nicest breeze just waiting for me. This morning it wasn't hot, cold, too humid or anything. It was perfect and perfectly quiet. The hens woke up a few minutes later and I let them out to free range. I was thinking of what I'd like the yard to look like this year. I really can't wait to get the garden going. I'd like it to be Spring already.

I caught the scent of bacon frying. I picked up the fresh eggs for the day. Inside the water was boiling and William was making some Earl Gray. Not one for caffeine I always avoided Earl Gray but it smelled so wonderful. It has bergamot and I almost want to use it as a body mist, smells so good. Saturday mornings like this take me a million miles away from the regular weekeday life.

Animals

For some morbid reason on the walk from from the car to my office this morning I thought of every animal I ever saw die. Not many, thank goodness. I had wondered about their pain. I have always hoped that they went numb as soon as they were injured and felt nothing those last tortured minutes but I don't think that is how it works. A few bad memories over the years were the baby pigeon I rescued and nursed back to health only to have a cat steal it away for a snack the next day,the poor squirrel I saw get hit, the driver grinning (really?) and my wonderful and dear Olly. Those poor animals, dignified to the very end. I was the one in hysterics.

As I have gotten older I find it harder and harder to deal with killing anything. All those plants last year, ugh! I felt bad the other day for the poor snail that crawled out of the Contadina Tomato can (housing my baby lemon tree) and made it's way into the sink. I turned on the hot water that goes from very hot to scalding in seconds and noticed him only after I shut the water off. Taps played in my head. Seriously felt bad for the lil thing. That's such a horrid way to go, I checked, he was gone. I felt so bad. Yet I have been wanting some escargot, not the same sort of snail but still. The severe contradictions.

As for roaches and other pests, Mona seems to get those and does not seem the least bit guilty at all. To her they were playthings, they stopped moving, fun over, move on. My hens have no problem brutally tearing into a poor cricket. Once again...looking to the animals to see how it should be done.

I've been in a daze

Not sure if my current state is a result of allergies,not enough sleep, too much exercise,not enough rest, maybe too much sugar (it is Girl Scout Cookie season ) but I'm real spacey.
Please pardon me if I have to ask you to repeat what you just said. Again, please. I keep forgetting things. I could take a nap anywhere, anytime. My email correspondence has slowed down significantly to the point that friends are writing me to ask where I am vacationing and when will I be back.

I'm sort of vacationing in that I'm generally out of it. This has been going on for about a week and a half. Today my throat is sore and I'm losing my voice. It must be allergies because it is rare that I actually get a serious upper respiratory illness. If it is allergies, I'm getting off easy. Everyone else has some nasty cold or bronchitis. It's a non-stop chorus of coughing, hacking and nose honking at my office these days.

What keeps me from just checking into Icksville has been making Valentines. A friend of mine held a Valentine making party last Sunday and we all got to share ideas, materials and supplies to make our own cards. It was cool trying out new paper cutters and playing with all sorts of textured paper. I had never been to one of these, it was fun. Last night I made more Valentines while watching the surf documentary, Bustin' Down the Door. Can't watch enough surf documentaries.

I recently received news that I will be getting a vintage, hand me down bike. Yay! It's a Swarthmore by Murray. A what? All I know is that it has gears and brakes and I want to trick it out. Nothing like a free bike to cheer a person up!