First Flash Mob in Doha, Qatar
Thank you, my friend Hayfa, for sending this flash mob from City Center Mall; very nice;
But this one dates from May 2011, and I love the energy!
And one more, this time at Villagio! Wooo HOOOO, Qatar!
I’m eager to see one done at the Souk al Waqif!
I think Qatar’s National Day is December 18th, and the Qataris know how to party. It would be lovely to see a Qatari flash mob.
Christmas Time in Pensacola
Christmas in Pensacola starts just after Thanksgiving, for most people. I saw a very few decorations go up around Veteran’s Day (11 November) but very few. Most started going up around Thanksgiving. Because we are having some work continuing on our house, I couldn’t do the same decorations I did last year, so I did something new; my goal in the week before I left was to get SOME Christmas up, inside and out.
This year, AdventureMan is here, too, and it makes all the difference. Last year, he left for Kuwait just before Christmas, and I was so sad that it was hard to put a lot of effort into decorating. I did it, mostly because I am too proud not to. (No. I will not let adversity get me down!) But mostly, it takes a lot of energy to fight depression, so this year, I am appreciating just how good it is to have a ‘normal’ Christmas, i.e. my husband is on the same continent as me, in the same country, even the same state, same city, and same residence. It’s all good. 🙂
Our tree this year is smaller – and higher – that other years, and all the ornaments on it are unbreakable. Yes. Happy Baby, now Happy Toddler, will be coming by and I want to protect him – and the tree. Over the years we have collected so many wonderful ornaments that I have a lot to work with, and still manage to have a nice tree; the angel on the top is a traditional angel from Nurnberg, and we bought it the first year we were married. It’s nice to have her high on the top of the tree once more.
Under the tree, covering the table, is a special wool sefsari we bought when we lived in Tunisia, bright red with bands of gold trim. These were everywhere when we lived there, especially in the cold winters, but when we visited, I no longer saw them in any stores. Covering the tree stand, I have one of my smaller Damascus tablecloths; I treasure these coverings, and beads, Pensacola parade beads.
“Beads!” we shouted to Happy Toddler as we put them over his head.
“Beads!” the crowd shouted as the floats went by at the Pensacola Christmas Parade last night.
Last year, even as a Happy Baby, the parade was an enthralling event. What baby wouldn’t love a parade that starts with flashing lights, and motorcycles, and a loudly wailing, lights fashing FIRE TRUCK?? What Happy Toddler wouldn’t love the bands with the throbbing drums, and trumpets, and tubas, and trombones? And the dancing girls, and oh yes – the BEADS! Life is sweet at the Pensacola Christmas Parade.
The parade starts at 5:15 and we get there about 5:14. Here is what I love about Pensacola; you can get there at 5:14 and get a place to park only about 1/2 a block from the parade and be there when the spectacle begins. It is a laid back kind of parade, still a community parade, you see your friends there. It is sort of a Christmas parade, you see some Santas, and some reindeer, and snowmen, and there is usually at least one float with angels, but it is also sort of Mardi Gras, with all the Krewes (local social groups focused on Mardi Gras) on floats with their buds throwing beads, coins, toys and candy out into the waiting, dancing crowd.
Technically, I know this isn’t a great photo because you can’t even really tell what it is, but it is the beginning of the parade, and I love the motion of it all:
As it turned out, we were in a pretty good spot for catching beads, and we loaded down the Happy Toddler, put a few on each of us, and shared the bounty with some of the babies standing behind us. There were some people in front of us who caught a LOT of beads, and as soon as they caught them, they stashed them in a bag; they caught LOTS. Maybe they sell them back or something.
Last week, we took Happy Toddler to Boats on the Bayou, where boats decorated with Christmas lights gather near the bridge and then come parading to the park, and people gathered there sing Christmas Carols. Happy Toddler loves going to the park; the boats were interesting for about five seconds, and then he got to swing and play on the playground, which mattered a whole lot more to him:
It was just a really fun, community thing, and it was pretty, too.
Lunch at the Fish House, always a treat, and their tree is BLUE!
The Pensacola Christmas Parade attracts around 50,000 people every year. Imagine! It is so much fun. What I love about it is that there are so many floats, so many bands, so many civic heroes – you know how I feel about giving back to your community. These people are doing it. On one of the coldest nights of the year, they are on the Krewe floats throwing beads, they are patrolling behind the dog clubs, cleaning up, they are making sure the floats make the turn at Wright and Palafox, they are marching with bare legs in the cold, windy night – and it is so much fun.
Who would think that 50,000 people gathered in one place, competing for beads, would keep it all so civil? There is no place for ‘special people;’ we are all Pensacola citizens, there to enjoy a family evening, and it is just that, it is a great Pensacola evening, one of my favorite of the year.
Best of all was watching the Happy Toddler take it all in. The lights! The sirens! The beads, and the scrambling to catch them! The loud music, the pounding drums! It was all so much fun, and that fun was doubled watching him try to figure it all out. I can hardly wait ’till next year. 🙂
Leaving Seattle
It is so much easier now, now that I am not flying to Qatar or Kuwait or even Germany. I kept a storage locker in Seattle all those years, with boxes and mailing materials, with Christmas wrap, with winter sweaters and boots and coats for Decembers, and shamelessly sleeveless tops and dresses for summer that I couldn’t wear in the more conservative countries where I was living. I kept spare make-up, a back-up hairdryer, shampoos, paper towels, coffee filters, detergent – things I didn’t want to have to keep buying every time I flew into Seattle, which one year was six times.
My last day was always a mad dash to the storage locker to put away all the stuff that stayed behind, maybe mail one last box or two with exotic items like grainy organic cornmeal, quilting supplies, Tony Chachere Jambalaya Mix, or peppermint candies for Christmas cookies (yes, they got them in Kuwait and Qatar, but sometimes not until February) and then there was the rush to the airport, check in the rental car, and go through the drill at check-in.
Yes, I have a special visa, right there. No, you probably can’t read it; it’s largely in Arabic, but trust me, it’s the right visa. Yes, I like living there. Yes, you would be surprised how kind the people are! No, I don’t have any problems. Yes! We do have a church! No, Moslems don’t hate Christians! Not the ones I know!
Before the big downturn, I was usually trudging two big bags, packed to bursting, full of books and things I couldn’t get so easily. By the grace of God, I never lost a bag.
So, this time it is SO much easier. Because it is Christmas, I am still trudging two check-in bags, but they are not so heavy, and not packed to the bursting point. No hassles; I have my printed-out check in, all I have to do is turn in my baggage, piece of cake, woooo HOOOO!
And I have time! I don’t have to get up too early, I have a little time with Mom in the morning, and then I head out for a leisurely drive to the airport.
Uh oh!
This is what I see when I am inside my car:
It bites into my time, just a little, but I warm the car up, flick on the heat and blowers to clear the frost off the windows, and shortly I am driving along the mildly icy-frosty streets to the airport. I’ve missed the peak of rush hour, traffic is still zipping along, and I make the trip to the airport in no time, even glimpsed sunshine a moment or two.
Love flying through Memphis, perfect timing, I get there for dinner and get to grab a Memphis BBQ, oh yum. One of my favorite airports.
Home again, home again, it takes nearly a full day, and it feels so good to be home.
The Tiger’s Wife by Tea Obreht
The Tiger’s Wife was the perfect book to get me from Pensacola to Seattle, and through the Atlanta airport, full of bustle on a Sunday, packed flights, no quiet, no privacy. Thank God for a good, engrossing book, that takes you totally out of where you are to a world where things are not always what they seem.
The book is set in an unnamed country in East Europe which has just come out of a war, and the main character and her best friend are en route across a border which did not exist before the war, on an aid mission to immunize children who were once neighbors, and are now in a different country.
The primary relationship in the book is the bond between a young girl and her grandfather, and the stories he tells her as they walk up to the zoo, the Jungle Book he reads to her as they visit the animals, and the stories she finds for herself as she participates in the post-war rebuilding. It is a fascinating book because what she is writing about is not always what she is really writing about; the stories and legends and experiences are metaphors for another reality and a life lesson.
I don’t want you to think that this is one of the mindless airport books I sometimes tell you about. If it were, I would tell you “this is not great literature; this is an airport read.” Not this book. This book is literature. This book has meaning, and events you will think about and talk over with other readers long after you have finished the book.
In the back of The Tiger’s Wife is an interview in which one of my favorite new authors, Jennifer Egan (A Visit From the Good Squad) interviews Tea Obreht about her writing process, her life, her vision, etc. Fascinating reading, too, and also reader’s guide questions help you see things you might need to see and might otherwise miss.
Boss Oyster in Apalachicola
Many years ago, Boss Oyster was our favorite place to go in Apalachicola. One time we went there and just ate oysters. Oyster stew, a whole variety of raw and steamed oysters, then some fried oysters. That was lunch. When dinner came, we didn’t even want any dinner, oysters are so rich.
This time, we didn’t pig out. 🙂 And we still love Boss Oyster 🙂
I don’t know any word to describe it but funky. It isn’t all modern and it is not pristine. It’s funky. It has character. It has charm. Some people would hate it, some would turn up their noses at it. Not us. We love Boss Oyster.
This is our table:
And here is what I ordered this time: Gouda Gouda Oysters. Oh Yummm.
I barely remembered to take a picture of the oysters. I totally forgot to photograph anything else. Sorry! We just got carried away having a good time!
The Day I Might Have Died
“I have a photo you might want.” my Mom said, rummaging under the bed in the office, where I am sleeping while I have a working holiday here in Seattle, running errands and helping her with things she can no longer do easily for herself. I have two sisters living here who take good care of Mom, and I want to do some small part, too.
She pulled out an envelope and looked through it.
“No, not this one, but you might want this one,” and she handed me this photo.
I know to you it looks like a very strange photo; it looks like a very strange photo to me, too. Old photo, probably taken with some kind of brownie box camera, you cannot tell anything, it looks misty and indistinct.
It was taken at an airport ‘lake,’ like a water retention pond, in Juneau, Alaska, when I was around three. In Juneau, the lakes and ponds might stay very cold the entire summer, but these man-made lakes were fairly shallow, and might warm up a little when the temperatures reached the 70’s (F), like in July or August.
What I remember is dropping off, but not being afraid. I was under water, but my eyes were open, and the colors were beautiful and I was just watching the play of color and light, and I just kind of bobbed along.
My aunt tells me that she saw me drop out of sight and not return. She ran out into the water, found me, and pulled me to the shore. She saved my life. Later, when I was grown, she told me the old Chinese adage that if you save a person’s life you are responsible for them as long as you – or they – live. I always felt a special connection to that sweet aunt.
I wonder now if my memory is as I have always remembered it? I can still see the green and gold flickering, just as clearly as when it was happening. I can remember the shock of being grabbed, and hustled to shore, and fussed over, as everyone wanted to make sure I was OK. I remember having to stay on the blanket for what seemed like a lifetime, and then only being allowed to play in the very shallow water. And I wonder if I remember it all, or if I have heard the story so many times that I just think I remember it?
I love this photo. I love the indistinct nature, and mistiness. It is a metaphor for my memory of that day, and I am delighted that a photo exists.
Flying Out of Pensacola International Airport
No. No, there are not any flights to any cities outside the United States. I thought there was a rule! I remember other small airports that called themselves “international” but they always had at least one flight like to Mexico, or some Caribbean island . . . I didn’t know you could name an airport Pensacola INTERNATIONAL Airport just because you thought it sounded cool. Guess the joke is on me.
(Have you noticed how much more dominant blue bulbs are now? They used to just fade into obscurity, but now they are brilliant. These trees decorate Pensacola International Airport.)
So as I check in – at the curbside, YES! I am appreciating how much easier flying is when you are not flying to Kuwait or Qatar, or even Germany. You can drop your luggage right at the curb, you already have your boarding passes; you checked in and printed them at home (none of this is possible if you are flying to the Middle East) so you can go straight to your gate . . . oh yeh, forgot, you still have to go through security.
There is a LONG line and I overhear one of the security guards say to a Pensacola friend “Yeh, you can’t just get here an hour before your flight any more and expect to catch your flight . . . ” and I am thinking “Holy Smokes! I thought getting there an hour before your flight was overkill in Pensacola!”
As soon as I get through security (no more ‘special’ treatment, now that I am not flying to Kuwait or Qatar, no more pat downs, no more extra questions) I get to my flight, which is already boarding, and both my flights, early early on a Sunday morning are PACKED, every seat is booked. I cannot imagine.
The good news is that every flight leaves on time, lands on time, and the flights are uneventful. I love ‘uneventful.’
I find that I don’t get as much reading done as I used to when I was flying two, three, four times a year from the Middle East to Seattle. I used to be able to read three or four books in each direction, now I am down to one book and maybe a little Sudoku.
Beautiful flight:
When we get near Seattle, you can see five mountains in a row, from Mount Rainier looking south, including the remains of Mount Saint Helens. The weather in Seattle is cool and brisk, my car is waiting and the roads out Edmonds are clear and dry, Wooo HOOOOO!
Deb Roy: The Birth of a Word
Come back when you have some time – you’ll need about twenty minutes to watch this TED video about communication. I love this – but then you know I am a word nerd, and I love the way concepts are born and grow.
Computers have aided language analysis and taken it to lengths that were previously inconceivable. First, Deb Roy shows – with videos, graphs and cloud analysis – how his son learned to speak his first word.
He goes from there to what I would call “buzz analysis”, taking program content from cable television and correlating it to comments on public media – blogs, FaceBook, all kinds of public forums. The results are astonishing, and a great tool to understand the national psyche and how we think and process. This is amazing stuff.
The Travellers’ Dilemma
The restaurants were full this Saturday in Pensacola, all the nice restaurants; there is a Beth Moore conference in town and all the ladies are out to lunch. We were lucky, we walked in just before the crowd and snagged a table at one of our favorite Pensacola restaurants, The Fish House. Great meal, great service, great conversation, and we were out in under an hour. Wooo HOOO.
Have you noticed many of the good restaurants don’t take reservations these days, not unless you are a large group, like six or more? Maybe as the economy starts to lift again, that will change. It’s just odd.
Meanwhile, I have a couple flights tomorrow, and now that I am not flying overnight, or half the world, and now that we are retired, I am flying sardine class. And the airlines don’t serve food. If you buy food in the airport, your choices are limited, and expensive, and it can be messy.
So I’ve been thinking about what to take. I need something nutritious. I need something that tastes good. I need something that can be eaten sort of subtly; now that there is not a real meal time, you might be eating with people who don’t have anything. So you also need something you can share.
It can’t have an offensive smell. We love those Japanese crackers, but in a confined space, all of a sudden you notice how FISHY they smell. Ditto sushi, LOL. Can’t eat Wasabi peas, either, because they are also odor causing, in their own way. No garlic; some people cannot abide garlic or onions.
It can’t be something that might leak in my carry on. It can’t be something that needs a utensil. It can’t be too salty, or carry too many calories. It can’t be loudly crunchy, like carrots or celery.
Do you see the problem?
AdventureMan says “You worry about things like that?” He is genuinely puzzled. But yeh, I think about these things, and try to anticipate a problem so that there ISN’T a problem.
I finally decided on some Chex Mix, and some trail mix (nuts and fruits). You can eat a little at a time, you can share.
I figure I can pick up some coffee at the airport where I change flights. I love the seasonal Peppermint Mochas, Gingerbread Lattes, etc. It’s a most wonderful time of the year 🙂
What do you take on a long flight when you will not be provided a meal?
Feeding the Goats
The Happy Toddler’s other grandfather is always full of hilarious ideas. After breakfast, he said “let’s go feed the goats!”
We had NO idea. Like we thought we’d walk down a little road to some place where someone had two or three goats.
No. We got in cars and drove about five minutes, and when we stopped, at an abandoned factory, there were something like a couple hundred goats, all sizes, including one female who started birthing a baby goat as we watched (in horror!)
Happy Toddler didn’t even notice. He had a bucket of corn to feed the goats, and he made every grain count – the goats were so aggressive!
We all got to feed the goats. They would eat right out of your hand. They also had big bales of hay or grain of some kind, but they sure loved the corn!
Recent Comments
tigerbutterya0c5ff1d… on “Who Would Do Such a… intlxpatr on A Lawless, Authoritarian … Kuwait Someday on A Lawless, Authoritarian … intlxpatr on Oh Thank You, Amazon! Rivergirl on Oh Thank You, Amazon! Wikipedia Donate Button
Amazina
Early Voting in Florida
Here There and Everywhere 