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Merzouga – we reach the Erg Chebbi Dunes


2011
04.29

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The Road to Merzouga

We had another long day ahead of us.  But it was exciting because we were heading to Erg Chebbi Dunes and our camel ride into the desert! The drive was uneventful save for our visit to the Ksar and Brahim’s house, which I discussed in an earlier post.  Along the way we noticed that the Berber women were wearing black cape-type wraps with bright yarn embroidery.  Then we must have been in a different tribal area because they were all black with no color.  And finally, they were sort of stripy.

We also saw kids playing soccer in the middle of nowhere.  The only place they could have come from was down quite a ravine – but kids will find a way to play soccer anywhere.

A big thank you Riad Nezha for the good signage!

Riad Nezha

We made it just before sunset and were taken immediately to the rooftop terrace for mint tea.  What a view!  A gorgeous palmerie and the dunes in the background.

View from Riad Nezha's terrace

Riad Nezha terrace

Later that evening we ate in their dining room – the only guests, we were ahead of the tourist season – and it was delicious. So far, the best food of the trip had been at Boumalne Dades and Merzouga.  Lots of vegetables and great seasoning. We remembered wonderful seasoning from when we lived in Morocco, but had been a little disappointed this time around.  The dining room is beautiful.

Riad Nezha dining room

The riad is fairly new and still in progress but building a top-of-the-line resort is certainly one man’s dream.  In this case, that would be Brahim, the owner, but he was ill, so we were taken care of by Mohammed, who has a degree in English literature.  He said he knew that was a rather impractical degree, but there you are.  He’s developed a particular interest in American fiction.

Riad Nezha was a wonderful place to stay and is going to be a luxury retreat – everything is so well thought out and so tastefully designed.  We were very happy with this accommodation.  We asked to have a guide provided the following morning.  No, wait – Mohammed strongly suggested we take a 4×4 tour with a guide – in fact, almost insisted, and we’re glad we did.  So we went to bed awaiting our “quatre quatre.”

Quatre-Quatre (4×4) into the dunes

Breakfast was in the dining room and two men ambled in who were returning from the camel outing.  They had had a cold day – we were going to have a pleasant one thank goodness.  Although there was haze which distressed me because it was my only chance to take photos of Erg Chebbi Dunes – precursor to the Sahara!  Little did I know haze was the least of my problems in getting good shots.  I’ve taken successful photos from a vaporetto in Venice that was rising and rocking with the current; I’ve taken mostly successful photos from horseback in Haleakala Crater in Maui, but those are nothing compared to camelback.  More about that later.

Mohammed, called Ahmed, came to pick us up for our “quatre quatre.”

He spoke Berber and a little bit of French; no English.  We spoke English and French and a little bit of Arabic but no Berber.  Hmmm.  Somehow it all worked out.  Most of the time. He did manage to communicate to us that Bush was a “crazy guy.”   So many people we met seemed eager to comment about Bush and Obama and their remarks always gave high marks to the latter while disparaging Bush. I’m not disparaging Bush myself with those remarks – it’s just interesting to see how the rest of the world sees us.

How Morocco Works

This is a good time to digress about how money and Morocco come together.  It’s an unwritten code that people will be tipped.  For example, once Brahim started showing us through the Ksar, we knew we would pay him something.  He said no problem about leaving our car unattended, so we knew someone would be watching it and we’d pay him.  It was great to have lunch at his house, but we knew we’d offer some money after for the food.  So we knew that wherever Ahmed took us on our excursion, we’d give some money to those involved.  And the system works.  It’s not so much money to give 10 dh to the person watching your car (a little over $1) or 40 dh to someone who gives you lunch (a little over $4).  Whenever someone offered to show us the way somewhere, we knew that it was understood that he was doing us a favor and we were going to pay him.  Plus, you tip the gas station attendant – no one pumps his own gas.  It’s a way to keep employment up I suppose, and it works .

Back to the 4×4

As we drove out we saw a little demonstration taking place, but it was clear that Ahmed wouldn’t want to discuss it so we didn’t.  We began driving through the dunes and I worked it out so if I said “photo,” he’d stop.  Soon I realized we’d never go anywhere if I kept saying “photo.”

Erg Chebbi dunes

Erg Chebbi dunes

See what I mean?  You would look at the dunes and they’d be one color; then you walk 20 yards in one or the other direction, and there would be a whole other view and color.  I could have spent days just slowly walking amongst those dunes.

We were driving over the sand when we didn’t really need to so I wondered if it was for show, but soon we were out – where? We had no idea.  We were heading to a nomad tent for tea.

As we approached, there seemed to be a couple of tents and an abandoned structure that was being used.  One tent was the barn with goats and sheep in front.

A little fenec (wild fox) was sleeping by some debris, and a cat was resting on top of a wall.

Fenec

The structure had a solar panel.  A little girl was in the yard (which was actually the entire desert) and when she saw my camera, she took off.  Most Berbers and especially girls and women don’t want to be photographed.

Ahmed said nomad children do not go to school.  He grew up a nomad in that desert and knows every inch.  He spent many years of his youth shepherding the family livestock.

So we bent down and made it into the tent, which was not easy.  It wasn’t what I’d call comfortable.  The woman brought the tea and Ahmed poured.

The husband drove up on his motorbike and sat outside the tent looking through binoculars.  I was trying to process this: we were in a primitive tent with a solar panel, the children were dirty and didn’t go to school, and Dad rides up on his motorbike and starts looking into the desert with his binocs.  Doing what?  Keeping an eye on his herd of camels so no one steals them.  Phew.  That alone made the stop worthwhile – all the incongruities.

Next up: a stop for a performance by the Gnaoua musicians.

The Gnaoas come from Africa, black Africa as Ahmed pointed out.  Their music is well-known and every year there is a huge music festival in Merzouga.  This year will be the 13th and Ahmed says the desert is full of people camping, musicians of all sorts – I’d love to be there for that.  We watched, clapped, and gave some money and we were off.

We drove and drove and drove and drove.  Where were we going?  Mining, Ahmed said.  So we figured we were going to some fossil mines since southern Morocco is a treasure house of fossils.  Geologists get excited about Morocco.  We had no idea.  We’d pass an oasis here and there thinking, well this has to be the mining.  When we finally stopped it was in the middle of nowhere.

Middle of Nowhere

The other side of nowhere

Ahmed took some water out of the 4×4 and I thought we were having a snack.  But he poured the water on some rocks and abundant fossils were revealed.  That was the “mining” we were going to.  Wherever there is a rocky outcropping in the sand, there are fossils.  We walked around and found our own.  Pretty cool.

It was lunch time.  We were taken to a riad, again in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, but then Merzouga itself is in the middle of nowhere.  We had a good lunch behind the blue door, paid for it, and got back to the Riad Nezha.  Time to rest up for the camels.


 

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The Road to Morocco: Marrakech, Part One


2011
04.14

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Saturday, March 5, 2011

We took the train to Marrakech this morning.  Barely. I thought we’d be at the station one hour early but we were there barely in time.  Another “Venice” moment, which refers to the time I got up in the middle of the night in Venice, didn’t look outside because I didn’t want to wake my husband by opening the shutters, so checked the time on my computer, got dressed and went to the lobby until Mark was up.  As I blithely said good morning to the desk clerk, I wondered why no one was setting out breakfast. I also wondered why he looked at me like I was insane until I realized my computer was still on California time and so was I.  So this morning, my phone was on daylight savings time but we were not; thus my one-hour cushion was considerably shortened.

Casablanca Train Station

We sat in a train compartment for three plus hours with four Moroccan women.  I think the compartment (we went second class) is just what the compartments on the Hogwarts Express would look like. We did our best to converse but we shared virtually no words in common until a little child walked by and waved, after which we all shared smiles – lots of smiles and nodding heads and the desire to communicate.  I showed the pictures. (see the previous post)

Off the train in the Marrakech station

Can’t tell you how nice it is to walk into an airport or train station and see someone holding up a sign with your name on it.  We found Ali, who drove us to Maison Do, our riad in the medina.   We found out we’re not the only visitors in Marrakech.  King Mohammed VI is here also to check out the progress of various projects.  Ali said that when King Hassan II (the current king’s father) visited, the roads had to be cleared an hour before and after his passage, but with Mohammed VI, he is a man of the people and just goes on through.  Ali lamented the fate of Libya with Ghadafi turning on his own people.  We did notice more police and security than usual since the king is in town, but it certainly was not overwhelming.  The king is staying in a residence and not the royal palace.

How Ali maneuvered his car into the medina is a small miracle.  Besides narrow streets, people, bicycles, and donkeys, there are dozens of motorbikes zooming by.

Donkey cart in Medina

Somehow, everyone manages to squeeze through without incident.  Even Ali, however, couldn’t get the car into the small lane the riad was in.

The street our riad is on.

The front door to Maison Do

A riad is a traditional residence organized around a courtyard planted with trees and flowers, and you can look at Maison Do on this site: http://www.maisondo.com/.  From inside, we can hear children playing in the evening and the call to prayer, which is broadcast throughout the city five times a day.  While the lanes of the medina look nondescript, behind the doors there are many gorgeous homes decorated with tile, colored lanterns, carved and decorated woodwork and plaster. The colors are bright and beautiful.

Lantern hanging over the courtyard

Tile in the riad, Maison Do

Our room looked like it was out of Arabian Nights.  Describing the room is best done with photos, but we liked it very much.

Entrance into our bathroom

We headed out into the medina intent on lunch.  I needed food – my margin of error this morning cut out breakfast.  I bought a sandwich on the train – really a roll with some cheese inside – but it didn’t do the trick. Yolande, the French owner of Maison Do, sent us off to Oscar Progres, a Moroccan restaurant on the other side of the medina.  When we found it we realized we were in a local establishment not much frequented by tourists.  It was hard to find and not on the common path.  Refreshed, we headed out into the madness.

Jemaa-el-Fna is the famous square in the Marrakech medina.  In fact, it’s a World Heritage Site.  It’s huge and filled with water sellers who no longer have a function other than posing with tourists, snake charmers who never did have any other function but entertainment, women sitting under umbrellas offering henna tattoos, and all manner of colorful characters.

Cobras in Jemma-el-Fna

The streets of the medina are where you want to linger looking at everyone’s wares, except that if you even slow down a little you’re beset by vendors who have great sales pitches and stick like leeches.  You can’t blame them; it’s their living. You have to develop a careless banter while you look, and marginally engage in conversation while you actually do what you want.  Today, it was tiring.  Tomorrow, we are braving it again to buy babouches from Mounir, someone we talked to quite a while today in his shop, and hands of Fatima, necklace charms that keep evil forces away.  Plus – we have a guide and he will run interference.  When you have limited time, a guide is the way to go.  Except you have to set the parameters ahead of time – because all the guides will want to take you into showrooms from which they will get a cut of the sale.

The fun for me is seeing all the food – spices, olives, fruit, oranges, everything colorful, arranged so beautifully.  Photos are a little tricky because many people still do not want to be photographed.

Dried fruit

Olives

Spices

Oranges

We found our way into the poultry market but we didn’t need chickens, turkeys, rabbits (not poultry, I know), ducks or eggs.

Poultry market

The egg stalls had literally thousands of eggs apiece from little blue mottled eggs to chicken eggs to giant (they seemed giant), duck eggs.

Thousands of eggs

We noticed that wherever meat was being sold, cleaned, or cut up, cats gathered.  Some are sad, scrawny creatures.

Cats waiting for a handout

A little kitten sits forlornly by a meat case.

On the other hand, we found a cat on the bed in our room that is gorgeous but a bit wild. Yolande, the French woman who owns Maison Do, rescued him from the medina.

The cat at Maison Do

We returned to Maison Do and took long naps.  Perhaps we are finally caught up on sleep.  We had dinner in the riad – taglne aux poulet avec citron et olives  (chicken tagine with preserved lemons and olives, a tagine being a sort of stew) plus a huge plate of vegetables.  That made it feel just like home.  Sliced oranges with sugar and cinnamon for desert and of course mint tea.

Tomorrow we bargain and buy.

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The road to Morocco


2011
04.13

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It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged.  I guess you could call it “blogger fatigue,” or the lack of any desire to express myself.  Part of the reason I’m starting again is to give my creativity a nudge.  More like a giant push, really.  Another part of the reason is that my blog was ill-defined, jumping all over the map, and it’s circled back to photography.  What I like best is photo essays, or essays with photos – depending upon the ratio of words to pictures.  I fear the words often win because I’m a wordy person.

A good place to begin again seems to be with my recent vacation in Morocco, my “second country.” I have dual United States and Irish citizenship, but I lived in Morocco for two years as a Peace Corps volunteer, and it really does feel like home.  This was our first trip back in 40 years, and this is the first installment in how it went.  It starts with Eric Whitacre and Justin Beiber.

Morocco, March 4, 2011: Casablanca

Back in Morocco after 40 years. We’re in Casablanca which is a huge, noisy, industrial city teeming with people and traffic. So far, things seem to be much the same, only bigger and more crowded.  Compared to the rest of Morocco, Casa doesn’t have much to offer to the tourist. In a series of mad taxi trips, we saw what there was.

The flight over was long – from the time we left our house to the time we arrived at our hotel, it had been at least 30 hours.  I did sit next to a really neat person on the L.A. to London leg.  His name is Eric Whitacre and he’s a composer, musician and conductor.  You can Google him. His wife is an opera singer and they are opening a show at Disney Hall on June 25.  He’s going to give me two tickets – can’t wait! Check out the link for Whitacre, and especially the Virtual Choir, embedded below, which is quite an internet sensation and now getting air time on talk shows.

Justin Beiber was also on the flight.  We followed him off with his bodyguard and entourage, which was rather small.  He himself looked so small and so young, and I was so tired, that I couldn’t imagine the life of constant traveling, being on stage, having paparazzi at every turn, and giving your life up for fame.  I do understand the money part of it.

Justin Beiber

We weren’t happy with our hotel when we checked in at 9:30 p.m.  I had reserved a “budget” hotel and now I know that for the first night, I should reserve an extravagant hotel that I’ll be very comfortable in.  Mark agrees. I hardly slept – the blankets were scratchy and heavy, and we had two towels.  Period.  Two microscopic bars of harsh soap.  And it was cold.  But I can’t complain too much because I was prepared – having brought my travel towels, bathtub puff ball (whatever those net things are called), Kleenex and my expandable camping cup.  The most valuable thing I brought turned out to be my silk long underwear! And we had plenty of hot water, which is not always the case in the lower rung of establishments.  Nonetheless, I never sleep very well the first night somewhere, and last night was no exception.

The first day, like a zombie, I managed to get up and out, although I fried my new travel hair dryer because I forgot to turn the current switch.  I really should not do anything in the morning.  We took a taxi to Paul, a tea house (excellent) where we had breakfast; then we took a taxi to the Habbous District, but the cabbie dropped us off at the wrong place (which I was fairly sure of), so we got another taxi to go to Hassan II Mosque, and then the same driver took us to the Habbous for real.  That made three taxi rides back and forth across this very big, noisy city.  Man, my nerves were jangled.  The taxi driver we got after the one who took us to the wrong place insisted on waiting for us everywhere and we couldn’t shake him.  It actually turned out to be a good way to do it. At the end, after we had him drop us off at Place Mohammed V, he wanted to be paid like a tour guide, and we couldn’t understand each other, so I have no idea if he ended up happy or mad.  I thought he wanted more and my husband thought he was thanking us for being generous.  I am just glad there are many dirhams to the dollar.

Place Mohammed V

We walked around Place Mohammed V – that’s where the Feb. 20 protests were held in Casa. But there are no indications of unrest anywhere and that’s what we expected.  We’ve been talking to people and no one has anything particular to say about it.

Details of the Day

King Hassan II, who was king when our daughter Karen was born in Rabat, built a mosque – the second biggest in the world.  I’m sure he would have made it the biggest, but that one is in Mecca and it’s probably not a good idea to trump Mecca.  Anyway, it’s huge and impressive and beautiful but we couldn’t go in because – bad planning – we were there on Friday.

Mosque Hassan II

Detail from Mosque Hassan II

So the taxi driver, who had waited even though we had told him to go, took us to the Habbous, which is the “new” medina, or the medina that was constructed during the protectorate, so it’s not terribly exciting or interesting, but both the new and old royal palaces are in that district. (I didn’t want to go into the ancien medina because in Casa, it’s run down and not particularly safe.  It’s considered to be the breeding ground for terrorists, or what terrorists originate from Morocco, which are hardly any at all.)

We did see the juxtaposition of old and new in the Habbous, as we did all over Morocco, such as this man with his donkey cart and the woman carrying the mattress on her head.

Man and donkey cart

Woman with mattress (?)

We also saw rows and rows of babouches for sale.  These slipper/shoes are traditional and are still worn.  We brought some home – those of the first quality should last a good four years.

Babouches

Thanks to our taxi driver, we got to spend time in the old Royal Palace. We did not request that he arrange this, but he talked to soldiers at one entrance, turned and told us, “Closed.” At least we think that’s what he said.  He didn’t speak English or much French, we only speak a tiny amount of Arabic, so when we were all in agreement about anything, I’m not sure anyone knew what we had agreed upon.

We walked around a corner to another entrance and the soldiers on duty there let us in, telling us ten minutes only.  When we came out, the soldiers were getting a talking-to from their superior who was not at all happy that we’d been let in.  We’re glad they did. The building is in fantastic condition and the decoration, carving and tile work were as good as we remember from the Alhambra. Mark said the quality of the workmanship is much better than that at the new Hassan II Mosque.

Inside the old royal palace; photo of Mohammed VI on the wall

Old royal palace detail

Old royal palace detail

Plaster carving, old royal palace

Tile mosaic, old royal palace

The biggest reaction we’ve had so far was right here in the Hotel Guynemer.  We were showing the desk clerk photos from when we were in the Peace Corps in Oujda in 1971, and soon six or seven other employees were gathered round.  We showed them photos of us with Jennifer, who was two at the time, and Karen, who was born in Rabat, and our Moroccan friends. Then we showed them photos of Karen and Jen’s families, and our daughter Kim’s also even though she didn’t have the Moroccan connection.  Just like we laugh at old pictures and old styles (I’m thinking avocado green and harvest gold appliances, shag carpets, macramé, etc.) the Moroccans started recalling past trends. One pointed out the dress Zohra, our housekeeper, was wearing and commented on how old the style was.  Another pointed out the pattern on a banquette and remarked that he had one just like that 40 years ago. And they all laughed about a white enameled platter that food was being served on and said everyone had one of those 40 years ago.

We’re heading out to dinner soon, and it better be good so there is a redeeming feature about the start of this trip.  If I sleep well tonight, all will be well.  If not, don’t know what tomorrow will be like as we take the train to Marrakech.  I’m sure it will be fine.  As long as the jet lag is gone.  At least I know how to wrangle the blanket tonight and that I should wear my long underwear to be warm enough.

P.S. Dinner was outstanding at Al Mounia.  It was walking distance, right around the corner.

Next: the road to Marrakech.

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The Mission Inn at Christmas


2010
12.28

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On Christmas Day, we bolted.  We had breakfast with one daughter and family after which they left town until today.  The other two daughters were in Colorado.  The thought of Christmas Day without kids and grandkids was terrifying, so Mark and I had our own adventure.  A year or so ago we went to a cousin’s wedding in Riverside and we stayed at the Mission Inn. It was a random choice.  If you click on the link, you can see what the hotel looks like normally, and read some of the history, too.  It’s very interesting.

Let’s start at the beginning, however.  Leaving home.  I was particularly tired because I’d done the big family Christmas Eve dinner the night before (although this year there were only 18 people) – and it was a looong time before we found a Starbucks.  All  the way in Adelanto.  But the ride from Bakersfield up Highway 58 through Tehachapi and down to the Mojave desert is pretty cool.  I took photos from the moving car because – well, just because.  Too tired to stop I guess.

There’s a new addition in the car – the Garmin, sharing space with the hula girl, a gecko and a tchotchke a friend brought from Dubrovnik or someplace around there.  The Garmin was so helpful and easy to use.  By pushing enough buttons, I figured it out.

I know we’re in Tehachapi here because I can see windmills on the mountains.

Looking back, you can see all the airplanes put to rest at what was the Mojave Airport but is now the Mojave Air and Space Port.  You might want to check the link because it’s actually a famous place on the leading edge of aviation research.  It’s where the Voyager was developed (now in the Smithsonian) and where SpaceShipOne was developed.    The company that built SpaceShipOne is Scaled Composites, owned by Burt Rutan, and SpaceShipOne won the Ansari X prize – ten million dollars to the first private rocket that flew – well, click on the link.  This post is about the Mission Inn.

Continuing the journey.  Kern County is also home to the famous Edwards Air Force Base and although I’ve been there several times for tours, air shows and to see the shuttle land, here’s something I hadn’t ever noticed.

Up there on top of the mountain are rocket testing sites – my husband actually saw one launched once.  And I didn’t notice until I examined the photo, there’s a vortag – that white thing – which is an aircraft navigation beacon.

We also passed a very small desolate looking town in the middle of nowhere.

So, let’s get to the point.  The Mission Inn.

You can look back at the old post to see the entrance, etc.  These are just a few photos for comparison at Christmas.  For example, this spiral staircase had garlands and wreaths.  It’s a rickety (seeming) set of steps and I’d hate to be the person hanging these.

Looking down at this fountain from last time,  you’ll see a little boy as a ring bearer looking in.  This time, poinsettias.

It was lovely to see the touches of Christmas everywhere.

I should clarify that the Mission Inn has nothing to do with missions.  In fact, Riverside doesn’t even have a mission.

The entrance and outdoor walkways were full of animated figures like these, elves, etc.

There is something wonderful about poinsettias and the way they make even the drabbest place look festive.  This place is anything but drab.

Looking down into the Mexican restaurant.  I think there are giant nutcrackers back there.

Balconies on many levels were lined with angels, and at night when the lights went on, they moved their heads and arms.  Actually, it was a bit creepy.  But nice.  I can never see angel figures without thinking of Baruch and Balthamos. the poignant angel couple in the His Dark Materials trilogy who were deeply in love with eachother.

We had dinner in the Spanish Patio which is quite lovely.  It was cloudy, and we just beat the rain.  As we were finishing, drops began to fall.  I zoomed to the room for my swim suit and then zoomed to the hot tub, because I love to get in hot tubs in the rain.

We ate dinner quite late.  Earlier, we had a martini in the Presidential Lounge (find the other post and read the history – this was built for TR) and watched the lights start going on inside.

Here’s a random photo.  In the lovely pedestrian area on one side of the hotel, there is an outdoor ice rink!  I don’t know how many days or when it is operational, but it’s a nice touch.

Stay tuned for tomorrow night – the Mission Inn at night.  3.5 million Christmas lights in one place!  This was the spectacle I came to see.  And my husband, wonderful man that he is, gamely agreed to come although I am sure it wasn’t his first choice of activities.

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Gift for the grandkids – I’ll never outdo this one


2010
12.26

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I must say, I was inspired this year.  I doubt I’ll ever think of a gift as good as this one for my grandkids.  I started by thinking that gift cards were the most useful gift, and although not boring to get, they are boring to give.  So what could I do to fix that?

Being a photographer (at least in my mind), I of course thought photos.  And personalizing, so I took a look at Shutterfly and Kodak to see what they were offering this year in the way of calendars.  I found desk calendars, and just like that, a thought was born.

These were for the Bakersfield Seven, so I made each one a “page.”  First was Danny, the oldest.  To see each page better, click on the photo to enlarge it and then arrow back to the main page.

This was the plan, then.  Line each page with photos from events during the year that had been memorable or fun, and put a gift certificate on each page.  For example, on Danny’s Page I wrote something about it being cold outside so go get some hot chocolate at Starbucks.  Each kid got exactly the same gift cards on every page.

February was “Ali’s Page.” I said to get something sweet because Valentine’s Day was coming up, and put a Coldstone gift certificate on.

March was Sarah and itunes to put a little music in your life.

April was Daxton’s page and a Ross gift card.  Remember, every grandkid got every gift card.

May was Sophie and the movies.

June was Joe and Barnes and Noble.

July was Xavier and Jamba Juice

Uh oh, I had run out of Bakersfield grandkids – so I started going through the families.

August was the Smith/Castellanos’ and a Target gift card for school supplies.

September was the Constantine’s and a Dick’s Sporting Goods gift card.  I tried to match card to month.  In September, it’s getting ready for sports.

October was the Davies and Subway.

November was the Davies Four and Michael’s for a little holiday creativity.

And December was Gramser and Gramp with a $20 bill to help with Christmas.

This was so much fun – and I wanted to share it so you could all use this idea on somebody.

And there was a cover.

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Small treasures in the rain


2010
12.22

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After three days and three nights of rain in a row, we had a day without.  Then it rained again.  But it hasn’t been cold, and it’s been so exciting to run around in the rain and get wet! We have a yearly average of 4.6 inches or something pathetic like that.  Once I got over huge puddles turning into lakes, I started to notice small things like drops of rain.  I took pictures, all in our yard.

I think that the plants are happy to feel water and get washed clean after the dry dusty summer.  They must feel rejuvenated.

It’s amazing – the infinite number of photo possibilities in the same little group of berries, or seeds, or whatever the little brown balls are.

The leaves are gone except for the lone brown leaf trying to hang on.  And the green – what’s that about?

The rain drops give a new look to old things.

It would be interesting to follow fall across the country.

Or maybe just follow it in my own backyard.

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Last vestiges of first fall in my neighborhood – and my yard!


2010
12.13

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Most readers will say, “What? Fall ended long ago.” But not in Bakersfield, CA, where actually we are experiencing a heat wave.  What can I say? That’s southern California.  Since we moved in the spring, we had no idea what the trees in the neighborhood would look like in fall.  We’re in a small gated community and I think we had the most spectacular entrance in Bakersfield.

Fall is exhilarating even though it depicts the end of the cycle.  The plants are getting ready for winter, which they do by shedding the very thing that gives them life – the leaves.  Then they steel themselves against the cold. The only danger in our backyard is the occasional frost, but even then, the plants have struggled back.

Winter is not attractive here.  It’s gray, damp, foggy, and dull.  That’s not exciting weather.  Oh, we might have a storm or two but nothing to get excited about.  Just when you think you can’t hold out any longer against that dull gray nothingness (except that not holding out is hardly an option), spring starts to tease and the baby greens start to show.

The night we celebrated Chanukah with our friends – December 5 – there was a big wind and rain storm, and that started the leaves falling.  The morning after leaves littered the ground.

I’ve never seen so many colors in one tree.  I think the color depends upon weather somehow but whatever it needed, we got it.

Now for the best surprise of all.  Down one side of our house we have two Japanese Maples.  This is the one I see out of the kitchen window.

But THIS is what I see out the living room window!

It’s so gorgeous I can barely believe it.

Looking out the window.

Now that I know what to expect, I can savor the arrival of next year’s fall.  I’m learning the seasons of my backyard.

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Decorating for Christmas: Dickens’ Village, Gurley candles and more


2010
11.29

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Second to last day of art every day month.  Y’all won’t have to see posts from me EVERY single day unless Gwen Bell is doing Best of Blog.  I’d better check.

Decorated for Christmas yesterday and today.  I’m calling it art of sorts so I can share as this post.

This is something my SIL (Jen’s husband) made for us year’s ago.  YEAR’S ago and I use it every year.  I think it’s called a Swedish Christmas Tree? This year it’s the centerpiece at the dining room table.  We’ll probably never sit there so it won’t be in the way!  I’m using a gold shawl as a runner – something I bought at Olvera Street last year.

These funny things are candlesticks my sister bought years ago as she was rummaging and reselling on eBay.  I wish she was still doing that except I bought too much of her stuff and she gave me too much.  But I use these every year.  They are different, that’s for sure.

Raise your hand if you remember these.  Gurley candles – they were so inexpensive when we were kids and to think we didn’t appreciate them because they were a dime a dozen, almost literally.  My sisters find these and buy them.  These were an Xmas gift from my Alaska sister years ago.  I just love them.  Nostalgia.  I’d like more.

Cost Plus World Market has been selling these little nutcrackers for several years and I’ve bought the ones I can find from places we have traveled.  I have Italy, France, China, Alaska, Mexico and England.  Next year I hope to get Hawaii.  And I hope we’ve gone someplace new also.

A couple of years ago I bought a giant pack of ornaments at Costco.  It just seemed like a good idea.  So I wrote each family member’s name on an ornament with puffy paint.  Cant’ really read them b/c I had to hang them high in the new house.  I used to put them on garlands up the staircase.  It was nice to have a staircase to decorate for nine years, but I am so happy to be on the flat land now.

More collecting: Dept. 56 makes various villages for collectors and I have been building a Dickens’ Village and the North Pole.  We used to have a theater in town called The Great American Melodrama, and my youngest daughter was cast in The Christmas Carol several times.  During those years I believe I had the entire play memorized.  When I became aware there was such a thing as Dept. 56 and they manufactured Dickens’ village pieces, another collector was born.

Starting from the left – because the display now takes up lots of room – we have Williams’ Coal Works and the house of Ebeneezer Scrooge.  I seem to have lost the light for Scrooge’s house but that’s fitting, isn’t it?  He probably wouldn’t replace anything that stopped working.

Moving along to Thomas Mudge Timepieces and the poulterer’s stand.  The little boy is standing there – he goes to buy the turkey for Scrooge at the end of the play and when Scrooge asks does he know which one, he says “The one as big as me?”

There is a coal wagon making a delivery to Mudge Timepieces, and next door is Scrooge and Marley’s Counting House.  On the right is Fezziwigs.  Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig are standing in front celebrating their anniversary.

Fezziwig’s delivery wagon is heading out past the town square.  The Chocolatier’s wagon is making Christmas deliveries also.  You can barely see the newstand in front of the park.

People are gathered in the town square, which needs maintenance because the sculpture on the statue has lost her head. Alas, she will remain that way.  People are sitting on benches visiting, and Father Christmas is making his way with a sled full of toys.

In the foreground, Bob Cratchit is pulling Tiny Tim on a sled.  Behind them is the knife sharpener. The Royal Stock Exchange is in the background.

Next to the stock exchange is a building of flats, and I think Fred lives there.  To the left is the East Indies Trading Company and to the right is the fire station.

This is the Old Globe Theater.  Some folks are riding in a one horse open sleigh.

Writing this has inspired me to check out what pieces might be available this year.  Oh my.  Perhaps tomorrow I’ll finish the month with the North Pole.

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Reflections Image and Word: She Killed the Moon


2010
11.28

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Art Every Day Month – Day 28.  That means after today, we have two days left! How did this happen? What seemed so difficult to keep up with is almost over, gone in a blur.

I am putting in another pairing from the Reflections – Image and Word exhibit at the Arts Council of Kern.  I took the photo to go with LisaAnn LoBasso’s poem.  I blurred it a bit on photoshop and deepened the color, but it was a spectacular moon night when I took this.  If you click on the link you can see the photo in its original state.

She killed the moon by  LisaAnn LoBasso

Today she is two percent.

Waning crescent. I cannot find her anywhere.

Two percent exists in the dark sky.

She seems invisible.

I wonder if she is searching for herself, like I am now.

Is she dead?

My husband says I killed her when I took his keys, his wallet—his heart.

Shoes, his only asset.

In this blacktop day.

I want to fly into the sky like Imrryr, like a bird

Shooting, like a star, shooting like

My father, on the ranch.

I want to profess. I didn’t kill her! I didn’t, I didn’t kill the moon.

But then I realize as the day hides beneath her shroud,

And the cowboys come home.

I did kill her. Yes, now, tonight

At the early break of light, I am trying to find that sliver.

Of us both.

Yellow, waning, two percent.

A crescent ready to unfold and open.

Full.

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Fun in Alta Sierra: Sledding and Skiing only 1.5 hours from Bakersfield


2010
11.27

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Yesterday was a fine day to have fun in the snow – since our cabin is in Alta Sierra, which is having unseasonably low temperatures like much of the West Coast.  And with the temps comes more snow than usual also.  So while we were up for Thanksgiving, I took advantage of the location to do photo journals for Art Every Day Posts.   And you know what? It’s Day 27 and I haven’t missed once.  That takes discipline, something I often find in short supply.

So on to the fun.  Everyone skedaddled to sleds as soon as possible.

I don’t think the temperature got above freezing once but that didn’t deter anyone.  But me and Jennifer.  We were deterred.

We’re on our third year owning our cabin and that white truck hasn’t budged once.  What they are all walking on? That’s our street, Connifer.  Right.  Doesn’t look much like a street – it’s not plowed, and the snow just grows and grows all winter long.

We also use our next-door-neighbor’s driveway when he’s not in residence.

Sledding always gives way sooner or later to combat.

Snowball fights.

Friday morning most of the group headed out for Alta Sierra Ski Park just a hop and a skip away from the cabin.  Everyone wanted to go tubing but as it happened, the tubing wasn’t open but neither was the park!  Opening day was today.  By some miracle, however, Benjamin, Sophie and Joe ended up skiing.  For Benjamin it was old hat.  Sophie and Joe had never been on skis before but they ended up having a lesson (perhaps the park staff used it as part of training day) and it was sure good PR because they are hooked.

Look how rapt Sophie is.  Both she and Joe took right to it, skiing down the slopes with no problem.  Alta Sierra has seven slopes from ultra-advanced to easier and I’m sure Sophie and Joe were on the easiest.

Sophie is on the lift, which she said was on her bucket list – riding a ski lift.  I don’t know what to think of a 13-year-old with a bucket list but I guess it never hurts to know what you want to do.

Now she has just gotten off the lift like a pro – first time.  Joe has already landed there on the left.

They each had an instructor – three kids, three instructors.  What a deal.  This photo looks down from the top of the lift.

And this photo looks up.

Sarah just watched.  She’s recovering from strep and mono and although she’s been cleared to do whatever she feels like, her  energy goes only so far.

The Three Skiers – the twins and cousin Benjamin – had a wonderful time and we know much more skiing is in their future, for which their parents are gearing up.

By the way – all you Bakersfield readers – did you know that barely 1.5 hours away you have seven ski runs, two lifts, and a tubing and all-terrain park?  Check it out. Don’t miss out on the fun in your own backyard.  It’s snowing now and more is predicted for tomorrow.  Aunt Anne from Anchorage said we have more than they do right now -  so take advantage of it.

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