Cut and Color

Jolene colored and cut my hair! This time she did blonde highlights and burgandy lowlights with a pixieish cut.

Jolene has been cutting my hair since college. She's made it curly (yes, permed!), then platinum with burgandy and red lowlights, then blue, then deep red. It's been all shapes of short hair, from shag to bob.

We always watch a silly movie or show during the haircut. Today's feature was Jem and the Holograms! Remember them?

You're from out-of-state, aren't you?

I bet you didn't know that you can't buy liquor in Georgia on Sundays! We certainly didn't. In this picture, Jess is dumbfounded after the checker asks, "You're from out-of-state, aren't you?" See the wine? We didn't get to take it home, and it was a lovely Shiraz from Austrailia!

Apparently, alcohol isn't sold on Sundays, except in restaurants. So, there went our plan for a lush evening. ;-) Instead, we consoled ourselves with some Ben and Jerry's Dublin Mudslide - Irish Cream Liqueur Ice Cream with Chocolate, Chocolate Chip Cookies and a Coffee Fudge Swirl!

Note: We're in one of the first Super Targets in the nation, which is made Super by the inclusion of groceries. This is after we went to see Ice Princess for 99 cents each.

Adventures in Southern Suburbia

Jolene and Pat and Dad bought a big, new house in Braselton, GA. They have a yard, but no large trees. They've had several trees planted, that will hopefully make it through the three feet of red Georgia clay. It's about 45 miles NE of Atllanta proper and one to three hours of driving, depending on traffic.

A half mile in one direction and we get to a new shopping center (no coffee shop). A half mile in the other direction and we're in a lightly wooded area with fields (previously pasture) heading down to a small river. Yet another half mile in a third direction and you're on the highway.



They were the second family to buy a home in this subdivision - The Falls of Braselton. (There is a small falls down in the small river.) Many of the houses are still under construction or not yet built. This is an environment that I probably would never have otherwise found myself in. I admit that my first reaction was, "They live here?" I'd been working for the past for years for an organization whose mission is to prevent sprawling development like this in the SF Bay Area. So, I admit my prejudice.

My second reaction is to see if I can come to understand why they live here.

The closer into Atlanta one gets, the more money it takes to buy smaller houses in shabbier neighborhoods. They lead a quiet life of working, cooking, eating, working out, walking their chow-mix dog Skanky, and watching movies and TV. A night out is usually just a half hour drive to the $1.99 movie theatre in Duluth. (Yesterday, we went to see Ice Princess. Because it was a matinee, it was only 99 cents for each of us.) They don't go out to eat much (maybe once a month), because they're being careful about what they eat (and it's cheaper). Dan manages parts of three hospitals, which are all off the highway that's a half mile away. Jolene and Pat both have part-time jobs that are nearby. They have a lot of comfortable space to live in. I can see why they've made this choice, but I don't think that it would work for me.

Rockin' the Suburbs

This is Jessica. She's rockin' out - and entertaining Jolene and I with a great game - Name that Tune!

This is how it works:

1. Only Jessica can hear the music on her "Puddin' Pod."
2. She does little dances and sings snipits of the songs for us - usually the chorus or the melody, if it's a classical piece.
3. She bets on which one of us - Jolene or I - will guess the artist and song first.
4. Unless it's the Beatles, Jolene and I together probably only get 75%.
5. Jessica laughs at our ignorance, then cheers us on with "You'll definitely know this one!"
(It only got old after 45 minutes or so. Then, I really needed some real music. So, I put in The Blo Kings first release "Crown Jewels." The School House Rock medley was a hit!)

If we're lucky, we'll get to play again tomorrow!

Thelma and Louise Drive Miss Daisy

So, Jess and I drove to Georgia with her 84-year old grandmother, Mrs. Lois Vader (inspired the Darth Vader line). It was a pretty drive. We took Hwy 55 south out of St. Louis. The countryside is green, rolling hills (think spring sierra foothills with no mountains) covered with trees, dotted with cows and billboards advertising tatoo removal, country sausage and Carhartt clothes (don't miss them at the next exit!).

The sky is big. After dark, the bugs and stars were out in full force. Sometimes, the lighting bugs were so thick it seemed like the stars were on the side of the highway. Then we got to Nashville and the stars really were on the side of the highway! =) After Nashville, we headed into the Smokies, which from the interstate, were larger, green, tree-covered rolling hills, dotted with fast food ghettos, wal-marts and fireworks stands.



We're headed to see Jolene, Dan and Pat. Jolene and Jessica are sisters and two of my best friends. I lived with them for three years during college and have known them since we were in junior high school. Pat is their mother. Lois is Pat's mother. Dan is Jolene's husband.

Grandpa's Tool Box

Grandpa has a John Deere tractor. It's rather old, beat up and held together with duct tape in places. For some reason, a pair of wrens think this is just great and build a house somewhere in it each year. Last year, it was in the cab of the tractor. This year it was in the old toolbox hanging precariously from the side of the tractor. Which was rather inconvenient for Grandpa, because he needs to use his tools and take the tractor out to disc and shred and other things that tractors do. So, he carefully removed his tools, put them on the floor of the cab, and took the toolbox off of the tractor.

The wrens haven't decided if they like this new arrangement. I hope they do, because it would otherwise be seven sad little eggs. But, from what I understand, the male wren makes several nests and the female decides which she likes best. They almost always ignore the wren boxes that are up, in favor of other types of shelter - like the lawn house or the tractor. Wrens also have several coops a year, so even if these first seven don't make it, it will still be a productive summer. At the end of the day yesterday, Grandma and I were watching the male wren check out her four-wheeler. It looks like the wheel well will make a great spot for the next nest! Grandma told him to go back to the lawn house, but I'm not sure he heard her...

731 East High Street

731 East High Street is a grand house with a colorful history. It was built in the late 1800s and was one of the first houses on this block. The house has 12 foot ceilings, 7 foot windows, hard wood floors and plaster walls that are about a foot thick. It's two stories, with 7 rooms on each floor, not counting the basement. During prohibition, it was probably a speakeasy because of the dance floor and convenient cubbies in the basement. Sometime in the fifties or sixties it was divided up into apartments.

We came into possession of it in 1991 for a pittance. Of course, it was on the "bad" side of town and had been vacant for a couple of years after a fire inside the front door. It was nothing a little paint wouldn't fix up. So, that's what we did. Well, Dad did most of the work, but my youth was definitely taken advantage of and put to hard labor! Imagine me, if you will, up on about 18 feet of scaffolding in our main entryway holding up a piece of sheetrock with my shoulders, while Dad nails it to the ceiling.

Last July, there was another fire. The first and second fires were both set by tenants, which probably contributed to Dad and Terri's decision to make it a one-family home once again. Around September of last year, I lost track of the changes they said they were making during the remodel. So, coming home this time was almost like coming home to a completely different house. It's a beautiful, happy house.

You may have noticed that you can't see most of the house for the trees. That's all Dad. He loves to garden and will soon run out of yard! There's only about a quarter of what we started with left. The rest is taken up with hostas, Jap maples, roses, evergreen bushes, day lilies, wisteria and many other flowers I can't keep track of. (I'll post more pictures of his garden later.) Amongst Dad's wild vegetation, there's two decks, three patios, two hammocks, and a gazebo complete with goldfish pond.

Of an evening, one of my favorite things is to sit on the deck off the (yarn!) spinning room (which used to be my room), enjoy the warm evening air (no sweater required) and watch the fireflies come out. This evening, I helped Dad finish putting the sides on that deck. The hard labor just never stops! ;-)

Strawberries!

Today was berry picking day out at Grandma's. Grandma and Grandpa live in Sandy Hook on a bluff overlooking the Missouri River. Sandy Hook is a town so small that it has never, in my memory, had a population number on the sign. It's also a "town" where I'm related to at least half of the people.

Picking and eating berries right from Grandma's patch is one of the greatest pleasures in life. They are extremely sweet, soft, juicy, and make a happy popping noise when you're picking a perfectly ripe one. (These are the best ones to eat!) I've never had any others quite as good as hers. Maybe it's the special Missouri fertilizer... ;)



When I took this picture, Dad and I had only picked half of the patch!

Wool Shop 101

Yesterday, we spent most of the day in the (cellar) wool shop, starting at about 11:00 when FedEx dropped off a new box of wool from Washington for us. This was, of course, after moving the rest of my stuff out of the wool shop, distributing my books throughout the house, and opening the windows for the season.

We washed the new fleeces twice (sheep are dirty) and then dyed them spruce, yellow and a chocolate. To wash wool, you have to let it soak a while in nearly boiling water to cut the lanolin oil. To dye wool, you have to cook it in big pots with water, dye and vinegar (think Easter Eggs) over a gas stove until it boils. Then it is spread over large drying racks.

After the wool is dried after dying, it has to be "picked" or "carded." The picker is a very dangerous machine that looks something like a medieval torture device with lots of Extremely Sharp Spikes. The wool is Carefully fed into the picker which, as the name suggests, picks it apart for spinning. Yarn spun after the picker has the nice curls and textures typical of Dad's yarns.

OR the dried, dyed wool can go into the carder. The carder divides up the fibers much finer than the picker. When you take the wool off the carder, it looks a lot like cotton candy, especially the Very Pink batch I did today. This makes for a more even textured yarn.

While we were waiting for the wools to cook, Dad had me wash and "block" the latest batch of yarns he'd spun. They're called Night Sky because of the many shades of dark blue, sprinkled with white silk and sparkly mylar that does a good imitation of the stars. Absolutely gorgeous. Skeins of freshly spun yarn have to be washed to set the fibers in the new twist. Then they have to be unwound and rewound to prevent tangles. (No, I didn't get tangled.) This is called "blocking." I haven't quite figured out why yet.

We took a break somewhere in there to bike downtown to Coffee Zone for a greek salad and hummus lunch. I also had a Cherry Italian Cream soda. Yum!



This is Dad at the picker in the wool shop. You can see some of Night Sky in the basket on the table.

Waffle House

We're not in the Bay Area anymore, Toto!

Just to make sure I knew I was in Missouri, I had us go to Waffle House for dinner after I got in Tuesday. There was smoking in the restaurant and no real butter, but the All-Star Breakfast was still good. The All-Star Breakfast includes: eggs, bacon, grits, hashbrowns, toast (only choices were raisen, white or wheat), and a waffle with margarine.

Movin' on up!

I'm moved to San Francisco! It went very smoothly, especially for me not thinking about it more than two days in advance. This kind of procrastination (ala Brian) is, for me, very unusual. Maybe, just maybe, this means that I don't need to plan things as much as I have a tendency to do... Nah.

Well - Thank you to everyone who helped!
Scott for helping load Justin's truck twice and adopting the chair and coffee table.
Justin for letting my borrow his truck (which I never would have been allowed to do in high school!)
Nanette for tolerating my mess while I crashed at her place for the last six weeks and for adopting my dining table and chairs.
Shannon for adopting one of my other chairs and groceries.
Nadine, Sara and Rafi for babysitting my car for the next two months.
Jana and Chris for babysitting my bookshelf and dresser til I get a place in SF in September.
And Mark for storing the rest of my stuff and being so supportive during all of these major changes in my life.

I'm ripping the last of my CDs I'm going to rip before I go to the airport in 10 minutes. It's The Beatles, Past Masters, Volume One - which I'm pretty sure means the entire Beatles collection is on my computer! Sweet!

Cheerio!

Happy Friday the 13th!

Friday the 13th is one of my favorite dates. (Much preferrable to Monday the 13th, which is almost always difficult.) And today has been an exceptionally good Friday the 13th.

Today is the first day of my new unemployed state. I'm not sure I fully realize yet what this means, but so far I'm excited. I spent the past four years working for Committee for Green Foothills. It is an exceptional organization, made exceptional by exceptional people. I am lucky and grateful to have contributed. I will definitely miss the people that I've worked closely with over the last several years, but I am comforted by knowing that they will always be a part of my life and a part of who I've become. They have all contributed to the vast amounts of growth and learning during my tenure at CGF. I came to CGF fresh out of college and am leaving with the confidence of a woman who knows her strengths.

I began and finished packing today too! In four days, I fly to Missouri for two months. I've packed all of my colorful skirts and tank tops in preparation for gloriously hot, humid Missouri summer weather. I've packed everything up from Nanette's to deposit at Mark's, and thankfully there's not too much stuff.

Then, I went shopping and bought TWO new pairs of shoes - some New Balance and a cute pair of black Dansko sandles. This is big news for me. Such successful shopping moods only happen about every three years.

And lastly, but not leastly, I've eaten only favorite foods today, including: fruit/yogurt/granola parfait, a mocha from Sam's, leftover thai food, miso soup, a big salad, beer and chocolate cake with white icing.

I'll top it all off with a soak in the hot tub.

Life is good.

Lennon

Last night, Mark had a great surprise for me. He took me to see "Lennon," the new musical about the life of Jolene's favorite Beatle. It was Awesome, told through the words and music of John, himself.

Who played Lennon? I bet you're asking. "I am he, as you are he, as you are me, and we are all together." So, nine men and women - of various ages and ethnicities - played Lennon.

Marcy Harriell, a short African American women with wild curls and a booming voice, sang "Women is the Nigger of the World." That was one of the times (out of probably half a dozen) that I teared up. Every time she sang, I had goosebumps.

The whole show was beautiful.

Thank you, Mark.