The Edmonds Bakery
I found it. I found the perfect cake. It was nothing like the cakes I auditioned. I found it in my hometown, Edmonds, Washington.
Edmonds is a quiet town, once the sun goes down. On weekends, it can be crowded and lively, and yesterday the sign telling cars lined up for the ferry said the wait would be about two hours. There is a movie theatre, which is small and homey, but plays first run films. It is playing Inception now. Edmonds is full of cool stores – a cheesemonger, several travel stores, home / kitchen wares, and is also home to Rick Steve’s Europe Through the Back Door.
My very first stop is The Edmonds Bakery.
I love this place. I even love that it is closed on Sundays, even when other stores are open, even if it inconveniences me, I love it that they take their day of rest.
Mom is coming home from rehab today. No, no, I know how that sounds, but she has been recuperating from breaking her wrist. It is also her birthday tomorrow, so it is a double celebration, and Mom loves Maple Bars. The Edmonds Bakery makes great maple bars. In fact, they bake all kinds of wonderful treats, cinnamon rolls, pecan rolls, apple danish, snails, twists – every good thing baked with sugar and fat, they make it.
And there in the window, advertising wedding cakes, I found it. I found the perfect cake for September 6th, the blogging anniversary. It’s the one in back, the white one with the black filigree decor. Sort of Spanish looking – it’s the Arab influence. 🙂 I like them both, black and white, whoda thunk, but the filigree wins my heart.
There are booths and tables in the Edmonds Bakery, so if you are exploring Edmonds, or planning to take the ferry over to the Olympic Peninsula, take a minute to go in for a sweet and a cup of coffee. It’s the true taste of Edmonds. 🙂
By the way, if you go early, you will easily find a parking place, even on Saturdays. I went around 8:30, just as the Edmonds Market was cranking up. The weather was foggy and hazy and a mere 70° F / 20°, so take hoodie or a wrap with you. Seattle mornings can be refreshing (AdventureMan might call them chilly.)
Kuwait 1990
Thank you, Little Diamond, for spreading the news. This should be an amazing program.
From the Al Jazeera site:
On August 2, 1990, the Iraqi army invaded the emirate of Kuwait, which Saddam Hussein, the then Iraqi president, had declared Iraq’s 19th province.
The occupation of Kuwait may have only lasted seven months, yet the memory of it remains strong, not least in the minds of the children of that conflict.
At the end of the school year of 1990, students in an international school in Kuwait said their final farewells as they headed off for the summer holidays. Many of them would never meet again.
Al Jazeera’s Nashwa Nasreldin was one of those whose family was forced to relocate following the invasion.
Twenty years on, she returns to Kuwait, the country of her birth, along with a group of her classmates as they organise a reunion to find out what happened to their friends – and their school – during the war that separated them.
Kuwait: The class of 1990 can be seen from Monday, August 2, 2010 at the following times GMT: Monday: 1900; Tuesday: 0600; Wednesday: 0300; Thursday: 1400; Friday: 0600; Saturday: 1900; Sunday: 0300.
Grumpy Wednesdays
I always get up grumpy on Wednesdays these days. My early water-aerobics class at the Y helps my mood, but when I get home, I have the dreaded cat litter to take care of. Thursday is garbage pick up, so Wednesdays I dump out all the old litter, wash out the litter box, dry it and refill it. I gather up the garbage from all over the house, put it in the can, move the can to the curb and then it’s picked up on Thursdays.
I think it took me all of 30 minutes.
I probably grumped about it about three hours, until I had it done. It occurred to me that I was letting a very small (but unpleasant) amount of time totally spoil my outlook. Literally, doing the job, doing the job well – takes minutes. Why do I grump about something so small?
Cleaning out cat litter is not a pleasant task. When I was pregnant, AdventureMan took over the job, because cat litter can hold parasites harmful to babies. Thirty years later, AdventureMan looked at me speculatively, his eyes all squinted up, and said “Isn’t the risk to your pregnancy about over by now?”
LLOOLL!
God Puts Women in Responsible Positions
I like the discipline of reading the Lectionary every day, because there are some stories we all know, familiar stories, but reading every day, we learn the less familiar stories. The book of Judges is not a book I would turn to saying “Oh good! Today we are reading Judges!” but now that I am into it, I am coming across some gems.
Here, we have Deborah, a prophetess and judge, and Jael, a courageous and determined women, and oh, what a difference their faithfulness makes:
Judges 4:4-23
4 At that time Deborah, a prophetess, wife of Lappidoth, was judging Israel. 5She used to sit under the palm of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the hill country of Ephraim; and the Israelites came up to her for judgement. 6 She sent and summoned Barak son of Abinoam from Kedesh in Naphtali, and said to him, ‘The Lord, the God of Israel, commands you, “Go, take position at Mount Tabor, bringing ten thousand from the tribe of Naphtali and the tribe of Zebulun. 7 I will draw out Sisera, the general of Jabin’s army, to meet you by the Wadi Kishon with his chariots and his troops; and I will give him into your hand.” ’
8 Barak said to her, ‘If you will go with me, I will go; but if you will not go with me, I will not go.’
9 And she said, ‘I will surely go with you; nevertheless, the road on which you are going will not lead to your glory, for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.’ Then Deborah got up and went with Barak to Kedesh. 10 Barak summoned Zebulun and Naphtali to Kedesh; and ten thousand warriors went up behind him; and Deborah went up with him.
11 Now Heber the Kenite had separated from the other Kenites,* that is, the descendants of Hobab the father-in-law of Moses, and had encamped as far away as Elon-bezaanannim, which is near Kedesh.
12 When Sisera was told that Barak son of Abinoam had gone up to Mount Tabor, 13 Sisera called out all his chariots, nine hundred chariots of iron, and all the troops who were with him, from Harosheth-ha-goiim to the Wadi Kishon. 14 Then Deborah said to Barak, ‘Up! For this is the day on which the Lord has given Sisera into your hand. The Lord is indeed going out before you.’ So Barak went down from Mount Tabor with ten thousand warriors following him. 15 And the Lord threw Sisera and all his chariots and all his army into a panic* before Barak; Sisera got down from his chariot and fled away on foot, 16 while Barak pursued the chariots and the army to Harosheth-ha-goiim. All the army of Sisera fell by the sword; no one was left.
17 Now Sisera had fled away on foot to the tent of Jael wife of Heber the Kenite; for there was peace between King Jabin of Hazor and the clan of Heber the Kenite. 18 Jael came out to meet Sisera, and said to him, ‘Turn aside, my lord, turn aside to me; have no fear.’ So he turned aside to her into the tent, and she covered him with a rug. 19 Then he said to her, ‘Please give me a little water to drink; for I am thirsty.’ So she opened a skin of milk and gave him a drink and covered him. 20 He said to her, ‘Stand at the entrance of the tent, and if anybody comes and asks you, “Is anyone here?” say, “No.” ’
21 But Jael wife of Heber took a tent-peg, and took a hammer in her hand, and went softly to him and drove the peg into his temple, until it went down into the ground—he was lying fast asleep from weariness—and he died. 22 Then, as Barak came in pursuit of Sisera, Jael went out to meet him, and said to him, ‘Come, and I will show you the man whom you are seeking.’ So he went into her tent; and there was Sisera lying dead, with the tent-peg in his temple.
23 So on that day God subdued King Jabin of Canaan before the Israelites.
Christ-Church-in-the-Gym
Today, with ample notification, the congregation met over in the Episcopal Day School Gym, while the air conditioning in the main cathedral and office buildings is being replaced. We sat on folding chairs, shoulder to shoulder, and we didn’t have kneelers.
Except for the congregation not being 1/3 Indian and 1/3 African and 1/3 all-the-rest-of-us, I would have thought I was back in Doha. 🙂 We sing the same music, follow the same liturgy – it is such a comfort, just about anywhere in the world we go, most of what we do follows the same pattern. Fellowship was held in the back of the gym, just like Doha. I’m beginning to know a few faces, and we nod a little (after all, we are Episcopalians) and I am happy our son and his wife also know a few people so worship feels more like family. Our little grandson loves the baby-care; they take such good care of him.
We have learned to live with – even adapt to – the differences wherever we might go. Some places, it’s all “smells and bells” i.e. incense, bells, high church formality. Some places it’s more evangelical, “new” music and hands in the air. Christ Church in Pensacola is old school, liturgical, but without the smells and bells. The sermons are down to earth and applicable.
The sermon today was on just that – keeping our mind on the substance of what we believe, and letting the stylistic differences go. Amen to that.
The Not-to-Do List
I love this meditation from Rick Warren, who sends these out daily from his Purpose Driven Life connection. I was at dinner last night with three well-connected (2 i-Phones, one something else) family members, and I remember thinking (with a grin) that we spent the entire dinner in conversation, and no one was occupied with their phone.
Choosing a simpler life
by Rick Warren
. . . a time to embrace and a time to refrain. Ecclesiastes 3:5 (NIV)
You’d think that living in Southern California means I’m surrounded by people who live a laid-back lifestyle. The truth is just the opposite: Most of the people I know are trying to cram more and more into each day.
For instance, a couple of years ago, I was with a group of friends driving down the interstate. At one point, I looked around and realized most of us were engaged in some activity other than talking to each other. Two people were on their cell phones; another was working on his BlackBerry; and a fourth was focused on his laptop computer.
As a joke, I declared I felt left out. I called the driver, who was sitting right next to me, and we chatted together on our cell phones for a few minutes! The point of our traveling together in the van was so we could grab time to talk face-to-face! Yet we felt pressed to get it all done.
That’s when I realized the truth – we couldn’t get it all done, and God never intended for us to make completing a to-do list the purpose of our lives.
The fact is, there are many things we think we must do that really are not worth doing. My point is this: You won’t simplify your life by getting an electronic organizer. You won’t even find it by convincing your neighbor, who makes Martha Stewart look like a sloth, to give you tips about coordinating your activities while still wearing a perfect dress and pearls like Beaver Cleaver’s mom.
Simplifying is really about choices – prioritizing what is important – and then sticking to those choices no matter how tempting it is to add more to your to-do list. In fact, take those tempting activities and put them on a list of things not to do.
You are the only one who can assume responsibility for your time and clarify what’s really important to you.
Now maybe you’re thinking, “But I have to take care of the kids,” or “I have to get this report done by Friday.” I’m not naïve about the pressures many people feel today, but it may be that those things – your children, your work – are the priorities you keep on your to-do list, and you move other things to the not-to-do list.
Tropical Storm Bonnie On the Horizon
Yesterday Little Diamond and I headed out to Fort Pickens, a long spit of land out on Pensacola Beach where there are old forts and batteries, campgrounds and hiking trails. The campgrounds looked heavily occupied, and there was a heavy surf – not to far from the road. In fact, although I am usually courageous, I felt uncomfortable about how close the surf was to the road. Out on this long, isolated spit, the land isn’t that much above sea level. It wouldn’t take much to wash right over the spit, and were that to happen, there is no place to run.
Personal security sort of becomes a way of life. It becomes second nature; you don’t even know you are constantly surveying your surroundings, looking for escape routes, keeping your back to the wall, facing the door, watching cars around you, etc. You don’t even know you are doing it, until you get that sort of choking sensation, knowing there is one way out and if that way is compromised, you might be sunk – in this case, literally.
On our way out and back, we saw mysterious activity, involving tents, lots of workers, surveyors and GPS systems. We speculated it might be movement of turtle eggs to avoid contamination from the oil spill, but we didn’t stop and ask – they seemed very intent and focused on their task.
We quickly toured and left for a nice lunch at Crabs – We Got ‘Em. DELICIOUS! We had the crab and spinach dip – oh Yummm. I had the crab cake sliders, which were so big I could only eat the crab cakes. Little Diamond had the Crab Ceasar. All in all, we were greatly pleased. Although yesterday was another hot hot hot and humid day, we ate outside in the shaded area, fanned by fans and Gulf breezes. Another day in Paradise. 🙂
(For those of you in the area, here is our review of our first visit to Crabs – We Got ‘Em several months ago.)
This morning, looking at the front page, we had confirmation of our fears – under the headline Bonnie Flies Over the Sea is a sub-headline “Ft. Pickens evacuates campers as storm enters Gulf, regains steam.”
A second article, above the line, is Sea Turtles Changing Shores and you can see a photo of a sea turtle nest full of eggs being moved to avoid damage from the oil spill.
Pensacola is actually just outside the projected path of Bonnie, but those storms are often known to veer from the projections. I have water and candles and matches and blankets, peanut butter and crackers stored in the closet of what Little Diamond calls the Fantasy Guest Suite. She is, as has become tradition, our first visitor. 🙂
The Devil’s Queen by Jeanne Kalogridis
“I need an ESCAPE!” I shouted to AdventureMan, at the end of my rope. So many things going on in my life that are out of my control, I just don’t want to deal with it any more, and I just want to run away and hide. “I’m going out to buy a BOOK!”
I found just the book, The Devil’s Queen by Jeanne Kalogridis.
I don’t know much about the late 1500’s in Europe, do you? At first, reading about this rich, spoiled little girl growing up in Florence, I felt a little impatient with her. All around her people are starving, and she hasn’t a clue. The plague strikes, and people are dying, but she survives. She starves, she suffers cold and fleas and is tossed by fate like a little cork on the water – all before she is 12 years old. Catherine de Medici learns early in life that she has no control over the forces of history and society swirling around her, over who she will love and who she will marry, even over whether she lives or dies. Surviving an attack on her family compound, held prisoner – alone – in nunneries until she is 12 years old – this girl’s life makes mine look peaceable!
I’m feeling better already.
Kalogridis is no Phillipa Gregory, but she has done her research, and draws us in. By the time Pope Clement betrothes Catherine to Henri of France, we are totally hooked. Thirteen years old, and off to live in a strange country as the bride of a man she has never met. She studies French as quickly as possible, but then again – this is a very bright young woman, who has been trained – by life and by education – to survive.
One of the paragraphs made me laugh out loud – as Catherine enters France, she is aware that her very fashionable Italian clothing is very unfashionable in France. She also notes that all the French women are painfully thin, thin to the point of gauntness, and are whispering behind their hands at her more normal size.
Lack of thinness is the least of her problems. She marries Henri, who is also 14, scared, and not in love with her, and they are expected to consummate their marriage under the eye of the King. Oh aargh! Catherine is on a steep learning curve, mastering French culture, diplomacy, the art of war, court politics and fighting the threat of repudiation the only way she can – with utter humility.
What I like the most about this book is that I feel like I was there with her. She is very human, and also very royal. People who are royal have different ideas than the rest of us, and are entitled in ways we can never imagine. They have obligations we can’t imagine. She makes choices I would never make, and yet the author convinced me that given her circumstances, she does the best she can with the resources at hand.
I also like it that Catherine of Medici was a brilliant and educated woman who held her own in a world where the balance was definitely in favor of being a man, and women were greatly at a disadvantage. While she made some horrifying choices, she had her reasons. This is not a book for the faint hearted; it is very earthy and it feels like an accurate portrayal of the times.
As I read these books, I think, too, how little we appreciate how free women are these days, and how recent that freedom is. Being able to choose our own mates – this is very recent. Being able to inherit and to manage our own money – this is very recent. As I talk with my friends who live in the Arabian Gulf, where marriages can still be based on family alliances, maintaining wealth and power, and where divorce can still equal personal disaster, it no longer seems so alien to me – we have this in our own history. We used to marry by contract, and our husbands had full use of our wealth. We used to be judged by whether we could bear children, how many, how many were sons, and how well we managed our households. We used to die in childbirth, and many of our children didn’t survive their infancy.
If you are looking for a good escape, this is a book that will take you there. It will make your own troubles look small in comparison. This book will keep you engrossed, horrified, and entertained, and, in the end, you might learn something, as I did.
You can find The Devil’s Queen at Amazon.com for a mere $10.40 plus shipping, and yes, I own stock in Amazon.com. LOL, we invest in that which we believe to lasting and important, and books play a large role in our lives. 🙂
Did You Get the Dashboard Gas Emissions E-mail?
I did.
Here is what I read this morning in the Qatar Gulf Times:
Steamy car interiors do not produce gas: expert
By Sarmad Qazi
The National Campaign for Road Accident Prevention (NCFRAP) yesterday dismissed as “false” a purported e-mail from “Saudi Geophysical and Environmental Consulting” making the rounds, saying that a poisonous gas forms in cars parked under direct sunlight.
There is no such company in Saudi Arabia, it has been learnt. However, a national organisation, “Saudi Geophysical” has been in operation since 1998.
“This is absolutely false. It is true that vehicles parked under direct sunlight get hot, but the formation of any poisonous gas is absolutely ridiculous,” Ademola Ilori, adviser to the Traffic Department said yesterday.
The e-mail cautions motorists to leave the vehicle’s doors well and windows open for a while, to let the “gas” escape.
“Based on scientific research, it is found that there is a gas called gasoline, emitted from the seats, air fresheners and seat covers, when parking your car in the sun particularly when the temperature is higher than 15 degrees Fahrenheit or 6 degress Celsius,” one of the six paragraphs from the e-mail reads.
According to Ilori, on a typical sunny day in Qatar, the temperature inside a parked vehicle can easily exceed 50 degrees C in just ten to twenty minutes.
“Hot weather brings unique challenges to vehicles. It can present dangerous conditions for both the vehicle and its occupants but fortunately most incidents can easily be avoided,” Ilori said.
“Studies show that 75% of the temperature rise occurs within five minutes of closing the doors and goes up to 51-67C within 15 minutes. Leaving the windows (cracking) slightly open does not keep the temperature at a safe level,” he added.
Sharing summer driving tips, the official said that motorists should check oil, transmission fluid, windshield washer, battery level and strength, tyre pressure, etc before taking their vehicles out.
“Drivers need to stay cool as well, by drinking a lot of water (not ice cold) especially those who travel in vehicles without air-conditioning. Of particular importance for motorists is to keep an eye on the lights and gauges when driving in hot weather.
“If your temperature gauge moves up, turn on the heater to its highest and hottest setting. It will be uncomfortable, but it will help draw some of the heat away from the engine. If you are stopped in traffic put the vehicle in “P” (or neutral for manual gears) and lightly step on the gas to help circulate the coolant,” he said.
In case the temperature gauge enters the “red zone”, a vehicle should immediately be pulled off the road and the engine be shut.
However, at this point, motorists should not attempt to remove the radiator cap as the hot pressurised coolant will spray out with great force.
“Do not pour water over the radiator or engine, since a dramatic change in temperature could cause damage. After the engine cools, add a 50-50 mix of coolant and water to the reservoir to bring it up to its proper level,” Ilori said.
The Bride: To Dance or Not to Dance?
From National Public Radio, where you can listen to the entire story
July 22, 2010
One Sudan Marriage Ritual: An Alluring Nude Dance
by GWEN THOMPKINS
A mating ritual in Northern Sudan is hotter than the Sahara but not for everyone to see.
It has no official name, only a few simple rules apply, and, like all matters of the heart and the loins, the custom is open to interpretation.
In English, people here call it the Bride Dance.
Young brides have been performing the dance on, or near, their wedding nights for thousands of years. Like Sudan, it is both Arab and African. And, like Sudan, it is neither Arab nor African.
It is deeply erotic. The women wear revealing clothes. Not so long ago, in some fleeting instances, they wore no clothes at all. Sometimes, a gathering of sisters, aunts, mothers and friends teaches the steps. Or wealthier brides engage professional instructors. Because rich or poor, urban or rural, every bride knows that doing the dance well takes practice.
(skirt traditionally worn)
The Bride Whisperer
Iman Ali, aka Shengota, is a kind of bride whisperer. She teaches young women how to be one part Salome, one part Beyonce and one part the girl next-door.
But that ain’t easy.
Creating the right effect takes several songs, smart choreography, a custom-built stage and a whole wardrobe of costume changes.
Young brides-to-be practice their steps every day, sometimes for months in advance. The upside, Shengota says, is that the women usually lose several pounds before the wedding. And that makes just about everybody happy.
When the music starts, the bride and groom mount a circular stage. And while the groom stands there snapping his fingers, the bride does her best to make him look like the luckiest man in the room. Never mind that he’s usually the only man in the room. The dance is, more often than not, performed in front of an entirely female audience of cheering family members and friends.
But not everyone here is a fan.
Contradicting The Rules?
The dance predates Islam in Sudan. And it may be one of the few customs on which feminists and Islamic fundamentalists agree.
Nowadays, plenty of Sudanese women say they don’t want to dance, “like monkeys,” half-naked for the crowd. And Sudan’s Islamic fundamentalist government has strict rules on how women should comport themselves in public: conservative attire, head and legs covered, no shimmying.
Fatima Sir El Khatim Hallulah danced when she was a bride at age 14. Now, at age 60, she says she doesn’t want her daughters to dance.
Hallulah says she was an uneducated country girl at 14, marrying a man she had never seen before at the bidding of her parents. But her daughters are university graduates who chose their own husbands. Hallulah says her girls should not be made to debase themselves. Others say they’d hate to see videos of their performances end up on YouTube.
‘Nice To Show Off A Little’
But after a recent dip in general interest in dancing, choreographer Shengota says her phone is now ringing more often. Educated women of Sudan’s economic elite are seeking her services.
Zaeneb El Khamis, a dentist in her late 20s, says the dance gives brides a chance to shake things up a little before settling down to marriage. The lights and the music and the costume changes — including different perfumes and nail polishes for different dances — can be great fun.
She, like many brides, enjoys watching the video of her performance with her family and friends. “It’s nice to show off a little,” El Khamis says. “I was good.”
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