Cinderella Lucinda

2011-11-27T14:18:00.001-08:00

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Blowout on I-105

2011-08-31T14:43:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we blew a tire on the highway. In the 20 years of being on the road traveling for our business, this has never occurred, and it happened just a few blocks from where we live. The quirkier things got the more blessed we became. How does that work?

Thank God for cell phones and AAA! With a tow truck on its way, Groom and I squeezed out of the vehicle and stood in the median to wait as people refused to slow down even with a stranded vehicle blocking one lane. They zoomed past, some swerving last second. What, were they texting and didn’t notice a completely stopped vehicle with its hazard lights on??

A police officer responding to another call rolled up behind us with his flashing lights and officially blocked the lane. Huge sigh of relief! But as he approached the vehicle, I was momentarily concerned he was going to give us a ticket for interrupting traffic or standing in the middle of the highway or breaking some other law.

Immediately another car experienced a flat right across from us, stopping traffic in her lane. At this point, the three lane highway was reduced to a single lane during rush hour. With the addition of a second police officer on the scene, gawkers from the opposite side of the freeway slowed oncoming traffic to a crawl. In other words, traffic was affected in both directions. Oh, the joys of being a temporary spectacle.

Next, an ODOT (Oregon Department of Transportation) truck magically appeared with its flashing lights, cones and arrows. The scene just kept getting bigger. The opinions of the police officer, the ODOT gentleman and the tow truck guys were that it hardly ever happens that two vehicles in the same stretch of road at the same time get flat tires unless somebody has purposely thrown or accidentally dropped sharp blowey-outy tire things.

With the addition of the ODOT truck, the police officer helping us was able to give Groom a ride home because we had a client waiting on our front steps for a design consultation, wondering why we had stood her up. I tried to walk home earlier but the policeman would not allow me to put myself and other motorists at risk by walking down the highway. Hey, I was just trying to keep my appointment.

Since I was the one with the AAA card, I then waited by myself for the towers. When they had the van safely loaded on the truck bed, I was able to talk them into stopping at our house, helping me unload the van full of groceries (picture the frozen foods starting to melt), and then take Groom to Les Schwab for new tires. Yes, we definitely tipped them for their kindness and willingness to go the extra step.

I then was able to design a pair of earrings for a woman who is leaving for Europe next week.

Before, Groom and I believed that someone being blessed meant that nothing disruptive ever happens to them. But after this experience, we have a new definition. While I was scared for a little bit, I mean, it is unnerving to suddenly stop mid-high speed traffic, everyone was safe and we were immediately taken care of by AAA, the police, ODOT, the helpful towers, and they made it to Les Schwab just before closing time at 6pm. Everyone was kind, understanding and we have brand new tires.

So perhaps being blessed means all’s well that ends well.

A Date in California

2011-08-26T16:04:00.001-07:00

Hello from sunny California! We're currently in the Bay area for the Palo Alto Festival of the Arts this weekend.
Our big thrill of the day was finally finding fresh dates, pre-shrivel. They ARE as delicious as they were described to us.
To all of you on the storm impending East Coast, or with loved ones there, we send thoughts of love and safety while waiting for Irene...

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Full Steam Ahead

2011-08-18T09:49:00.000-07:00

Groom knew there was something terribly amiss two days ago when I stopped talking. He became alarmed when I refused to eat. He knew to call the doctor when I didn't want my back gently rubbed for soothing.

But even a misadventure to the “ER” didn’t keep this fashionista-at-heart down for long because how could I miss last night’s “Full Steam Eugene Fashion Show?!” A cat walk full of varied-skilled models wearing steampunk inspired clothing handmade by local designers was worth the effort.

Admittedly, I ran out of gas before the show ended, so I missed the finale, but getting a sneak peak of the Fall Fashion line up was inspiring and I can’t wait to play dress up!

Near Life Experience

2011-08-17T12:34:00.000-07:00

I almost died on my half-birthday yesterday. At least that’s what it felt like was happening. The day started out like any other including an early morning walk with Groom, a camera in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

We were savoring the light, the shift in late summer flowers, noticing the bounty of growing squash in neighborhood gardens and having a great conversation.

But within 30 minutes of coming home, my throat started to swell and I was having trouble breathing. I could barely swallow and each attempt was excruciating. I could not eat and certainly could not speak.

Without insurance, things that would be scary enough under any circumstances tend to take on diabolical dimensions. My experience was abnormal and medical attention certainly needed. Groom called my doctor, even though I have not seen him in years (uninsured, remember?). Unfortunately, his office is in the midst of being relocated.

We were given the option of seeing another doctor later that afternoon out in Thurston or going to a walk-in clinic immediately here in Eugene. In between crying from the pain, trying to catch my breath and learning very quickly not to swallow, I made what I thought was a fiscally sound and life-affirming decision: The walk-in clinic.

I didn’t know if I would be around long enough to be seen late in the afternoon and when Groom called the clinic, they told him no one was in the waiting room and there were two doctors on staff so to come on down. We made sure that it was not the ER and we were assured that the ER had moved to RiverBend.

Fifteen minutes later when we walked through the door to the clinic, it was not empty. Several scary looking people, yes, scary, in various states of drug impairment were crying, yelling, coughing and one woman was complaining there was blood on the chair. Another man was taking a taxi to the Mission. This only confirmed that this was a “we see everybody” clinic.

Throughout the entire ordeal, I asked every person I encountered, from the check in person, the man who took my temperature and blood pressure, the nurse, the doctor, to the X-Ray technician how much these services were going to cost as I was uninsured.

Each person told me, “don’t worry about it.” Then added their own special deflection, “That’s not my department,” “I make sure not to know about the financial end of things,” “you’ll have to ask the front desk,” the front desk told me I’d have to ask billing, billing told me they had to wait for the coding which could take up to fourteen days.

Afterwards, to allay my concern (she says bitterly) they said I was being charged for an emergency visit. Plus a hospital room (you mean that little curtained cubicle?), plus the services of an ER doctor, plus emergency X-Rays, the strep culture, medications (liquid steroids to calm the swelling so I could breathe).

What? On a Tuesday mid-morning? This was a walk-in clinic. This was not after hours, this was not on the weekend, this happened in the middle of the day during the middle of the week. The billing clerk estimated the charges as several thousand dollars. For someone to look at my throat and peer into my ears?

I am almost speechless. After all my asking about the cost of services before I accepted them, why could they only tell me that on my way out the door? How is it that nobody could or would answer my questions so I could make an informed decision, but acted as though they had no idea until it was too late?

By the way, in case you’re curious, negative on the strep, normal blood pressure, no temperature.

But imagine this if you will. Moments earlier, my 80-year old father was painting his bedroom. He set the paint can on top of the ladder. He bumped the ladder, paint fell down went boom. All over his clothes, all over his shoes, all over the carpet, all over the plastic covered furniture.

My mother hears from the other room, “No. No no no. Nooo.” She enters the room to see my father covered in white paint. Next, they are squatting on the floor (not easy to do in my 40’s!), scooping up the paint with spoons. Retaining their renowned senses of humor, my mother asks dad, “Hon, was this on your list for today?”

He replies, “Of course it was. Was it on yours?” Then the phone rings on their end. Groom is calling to tell them about the near miss with their youngest daughter while we wait for my emergency room prescribed Rx. They don’t miss a beat, don’t bother to tell their son-in-law that they are covered in paint, they just lend their ear and support.

So if I didn’t die yesterday, but am not yet totally excited over that fact (too tired, bummed about the looming bills), then I can certainly at least look for the life affirming lesson and possible gift from this whatever it might turn out to be.

20/50

2011-08-14T12:35:00.000-07:00

My father pointed out that in terms of miles driven from Oregon to Utah and back, Groom and I traversed more than half way across the country. No wonder we’re tired!

We also celebrated 20 years of marriage and his 50th birthday while on the road. Celebrated might be too strong a word for riding 10 hours in the van that day, but hey, at least we spent it together.

Yes, we’ll be thinking of something imaginative to do for our milestone, but as we’ve already been blessed with a trip to Mexico and New York earlier this year, it won’t have to be over the top.

We would have posted more from the road, however, Internet reception for our laptop or phone was not very good (okay, practically non-existent) in the 7,000 feet above sea level.

Home to the Sundance Film Festival and the 2002 Winter Olympics, Park City is also a fertile training ground for athletes because it is darn difficult to breathe that high up when a person t’aint used to it. By the time a human body acclimates and can perform a sport impressively, then when back to playing on home turf, boy, can that athlete fly!

Speaking of home turf, we’re back on ours for a brief moment to create more stock and then head for California.

Thunder and Lighting

2011-08-07T14:19:00.001-07:00

After 17 hours in the van spread over two days, we finally arrived in Park City, Utah this afternoon just in time for a good old fashioned thunder and lighting storm. I took photos of the drive including the menacing sky with my 35mm which is why this gorgeous blue sky and white snowy peaks of The Three Sisters are featured here instead. This one was taken yesterday closer to home with my phone.

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Park City or Bust

2011-08-03T16:03:00.001-07:00

Today is the first of our two day drive through the desert to Park City, Utah. First stop was Sahalie Falls which was so lush and green I got a moss-stache. Then came Sisters, Bend, Burns, Juntura and Vale. We have reservations in Boise, Id for tonight. We've been in the car for over 9 hours so far, but Groom and I have kept each other laughing all day so it's going by quickly.

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Our Summer in the City

2011-07-29T20:12:00.000-07:00

While most of the country has been ensconced in a heat wave, the Pacific Northwest has been under a cool spell; apparently our corner of the map is where spring likes to summer. I’m not complaining, mind you, as Groom and I have spent day after day down in the dungeon, I mean basement studio making jewelry.

With the festival in Park City, Utah just around the corner of next week, we’ve had to remain focused on our work and been happy the weather has not lured us astray.

Wednesday, however, produced the kind of evening that is so beautiful it hurts a little. A friend came over for dinner and then we all walked downtown to participate in our community’s “Summer in the City” program. You know, concerts, outdoor movies, dodge ball and the like on the Ken Kesey Plaza.

This week’s activity was an art marathon. Fully clothed models posed while a bunch of us sketched with live jazz in the background. The poses were held for one, five or ten impossible minutes. Don’t know how they held their positions, but it was certainly fun for us.

All ages participated as well as all skill levels. It was a relaxed, charming event and we’d love to do it again.

Crow Girl

2011-07-22T17:23:00.001-07:00

Today was Gem Faire Day. While hunting for treasures a woman told me I looked like a "crow girl." Since I don't know what that is, I'm hoping it's a stylish cousin to the magpie, one who is attracted to rusty things.

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Let There Be Light

2011-07-21T17:37:00.001-07:00

After two days spent discussing what we should do (go to Portland to hunt for treasure? - among other ideas), preparing (ice for refrigerator, thermos full of hot water for coffee and tea, laundry done, batteries charged and etc.), the electricity went out at precisely 9:34am this morning. The men working outside our window apparently didn't want to electrocute themselves while making some neighborhood improvements. Here's Groom working by camp light. And within one hour everything was back on. Ha ha. All that fussing for nuthin'.

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Electric Avenue

2011-07-19T19:35:00.001-07:00

When we returned home from a walk this afternoon after snapping a photo of this Magnolia grandiflora in our neighborhood, we discovered a notice left on our doorstep by our local water and electric company informing that due to some "improvements" our electricity will be temporarily shut off on Thursday. What? No lights to work by, no computer, or jewelry tools usable in the basement studio. No cooking, hot water, or refrigerator usage. This is a precious work day needed after a successful Salem Art Festival so we can prepare for Park City. Ai carumba, we have no choice but to figure it out.

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Cats and Dogs

2011-07-17T09:40:00.001-07:00

Sprinkles make it sound like cupcake toppings. It is not sprinkling, it is downright pouring rain in Salem for the Arts Festival.

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Thinking Outside The Booth

2011-07-15T18:17:00.001-07:00

What's more American than baseball, apple pie, and stir fry noodles? An art fair, of course. We're coming to you live from the Salem Art Fair and Festival, where the sky is blue (at least for now), the people are fun and the music good.

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I Heart Rust

2011-07-14T15:35:00.001-07:00

We stopped at a metal boneyard on our way to Salem before setting up the booth. It's amazing how beautiful rusty parts can be when struck with scrap fever. Tetanus shot with a coffee chaser anyone?

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Our Busman's Holiday

2011-07-13T12:21:00.000-07:00

I think I’ve mentioned before how tuning in to the all-work channel can make a person dull, so Groom and I took last Friday off to go to the Oregon Country Fair.

The number one question we’re asked: do we sell our jewelry there? The answer is no way, Jose! Not because it isn’t a great venue, it is after all, one of Oregon’s premiere events, the numero uno anticipated event of the year.

We don’t even apply, never have done because if we got in, then we’d have to work! The OCF is so fun, it would be torture to sit in our booth all day long while the crowds, dressed in their costumes, frippery, finery and plumage passed us by.

Nope! It’s the rare time Groom and I get to unshackle ourselves from the responsibility of minding the store and wander aimlessly throughout the dusty paths covering 80+ wooded acres, eating and visiting our way through the event.

And while we had a great time, the clock has struck midnight and this Cinderella couple finds themselves back in the studio, working overtime to prepare for the delightful Salem Arts Fair and Festival coming up this weekend.

Ma Ma Ma My Corona

2011-07-05T21:05:00.000-07:00

The heat is on, in terms of summer temps and queries from people wondering why there haven’t been any blog updates lately. Imagine me exhaling a puff of air here, my bangs (if I had them) lifting off my forehead, whilst I sigh. Anybody got some extra time for sale?

Well, what have we been doing? Gotta think. We participated in the Lake Oswego Festival of the Arts during the last weekend of June and experienced a stunning solar corona, halo, or whatever the perfect ring around the sun is called. The show was brilliant and we’re happy to have done it.

Our 4th of July was spent in the studio making jewelry for the upcoming Salem Arts Fair and Festival and we forgot it was a holiday until the rocket’s red glare and loud explodey noises reminded us at twilight’s first gleaming.

Silence May Be Golden, but It's Quirky Too

2011-06-23T15:08:00.001-07:00

We're currently in Portland, having just finished setting the booth up (in record time, I might add) for Lake Oswego. Two hours flat in case you were suffering from severitas curiosimus. That's faux Latin for severe curiosity. Here's another picture from the lost voice expedition I've been on.

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Graywolf

2011-06-22T15:30:00.000-07:00

Happy beginning of summer everyone! My speaking voice is finally back, just in time to take our traveling gallery to the Lake Oswego Festival of the Arts in the Portland area this weekend.

The last few weeks have been very interesting following a visit from a tribal leader, Graywolf, up in Spokane. I don’t know if the two are connected, but one did happen right after the other: I became sick and lost my voice.

What I discovered, however, is that when I wasn’t diffusing my energy with words, words, words, I found my voice in other ways. My photography has taken a curious turn as has the jewelry. Thanks, Graywolf!

More photos to follow in the next few days.

Simple as Cherry Pie

2011-06-12T19:21:00.000-07:00

Alignment, Harmonic arrangement, Things lining up. In playing the slot machine of life, what’s better than seeing three cherries (or bicycles) in a row?

Because I mention it often enough, it’s no surprise how much I delight in alignment, such as the date yesterday. Opening for the Eugene Saturday Market started April 2 which made yesterday, 6/11/11 the eleventh Market of this season. Alignment!

Yesterday morning Groom grabbed the camera and snapped this photo shortly after we arrived. I was not aware he had it aimed in my direction, so he caught the moment I noticed somebody I liked and hadn’t seen for awhile.

Often, it’s the simple things that gratify us, from the way the light hits something and makes it even more beautiful to interacting with friends.

Simple, uncomplicated, easy. Jackpot!

Visual Silence

2011-06-10T14:51:00.000-07:00

I lost my voice in Spokane and I still don’t have it back. It was raining all week, or all year apparently according to the locals, including Thursday when we had to set up for ArtFest (oh the many, many joys of setting up a booth in the rain…).

Fortunately, the sun came out Friday and lasted the entire three days of the show. So did the pollen. You see, I learned that pollen needs to be dry in order to do its thing, so with the first warm, dry day of the year, every pollen-bearing flower, plant, shrub, tree, hedge and bush let go with a celebratory whoosh and covered everything. Did I mention everything?

I must have had an allergic reaction to the stuff if my sudden coughing, sneezing, wheezing, hacking, sniffing, dripping and stopped up nose, headache, sore throat and loss of voice are indicative factors.

Why tell you about it? Because I’ve had no voice now for several days and it’s been an entirely new experience to spend time in virtual silence; quite unusual for this talkative spirit. But as always is the case for me, I am learning something new from it, and I’m feeling comfortable in my solitude, expressing myself visually with pictures instead of all my words words words.

Ogling The Gargoyle

2011-06-09T10:59:00.000-07:00

The last few weeks for us have been about Washington. We went to Seattle for the U-District Street Fair and turned right around and drove to Spokane for ArtFest.

ArtFest is one of our favorite shows to do. Set in a beautiful park, surrounded by stunning Victorian architecture, it is a camera addict’s dream.

On the first day of the show, I met a budding photographer and we instantly hit it off. Groom watched the booth while she and I ran away from the circus with our cameras and practically drooled over all the turrets, transoms, and entablatures.

The next day we did it again, ogling the gargoyles, gables and cobblestones.

What felt great about the experience (besides playing hooky from the booth), is that we were both open to how the other one viewed the world. The lens was our magic door. I watched what animated her while she noted what sparked my attention.

There was no competition, only pure inspiration at play.

While I can’t speak for her, I feel that she helped me raise my game, and for that I offer a Thank You.

Eating Like There’s No Tomorrow

2011-05-20T21:06:00.000-07:00

On the eve of what has been predicted to be “May 21 Judgment Day,” we’ve actually planned more for the U-District Street Fair, which also starts on Saturday, than to be caught up in an end-of-the-world scenario.

However, if today is the last day of life as we know it, then Groom and I spent it eating as if there was no tomorrow.

Based on the recommendations of people who live here and are in the know, we walked for miles today (well, at least for blocks and blocks), eating our way from neighborhood to neighborhood.

We started near the University of Washington (Husky Territory) and walked to Green Lake. On the way, we stopped at Irwin’s Bakery and tried one of their apple and pecan scones.

The footpath circling the lake charmed us and folks were in a collective good mood, something we attributed more to the first sunny day in Seattle to climb the mercury ladder hitting 70 degrees(according to the news report) than to people struggling to fit one more day of exercise before the impending apocalypse.

The sky dazzled blue, the sun took center stage and we continued from Green Lake to Ballard where we feasted on quiche, chocolate croissants and coffee at the beloved Café Besalu.

Leaving our vehicle safely parked in the hotel’s garage, we also used Seattle’s great bus system to get around in addition to bi-pedding it. From the Ballard neighborhood we cashed in our transfer tickets to catch a ride to Fremont where we took Kimmmm’s advice and sampled chocolate at Theo’s. We figured what have we got to lose (except all the extra calories) and bought the ghost chili pepper chocolate bar. So hot, it can turn one into a ghost. Sounded like a perfect day for such a claim.

I don’t know if this will be our last post or if there will be anyone left to read it, but it’s sure been a good ride. If we are here tomorrow, well then come on down to the street fair and say hello.

Hair of the Goat

2011-05-19T21:39:00.000-07:00

We made it safely to the Emerald City this afternoon, what Seattle has been nicknamed since the early 80’s. The first thing we did after checking into our funky U-District flat was to hunt for something to eat.

Following the tantalizing aroma to Garam Masala, an “exotic Indian cuisine” restaurant on University Way, what else could we order but goat curry? It was mighty delicious. And this sign, also recently spotted, is pretty funny in light of our controversial lunch choice.

From the Ave we met up with friends and they took us to Ivar’s on Lake Union where we sat outside near the water, sipping coffee, catching up and watching the boats sail by. Some days I love my job.

The weather turned on the charm and behaved perfectly, bringing out the smiles in everyone we passed in this heavily populated area of what is also known as “Rainy City.” Hey, I thought that was Eugene!

Lucky Number 13

2011-05-18T17:08:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, we’ve been remiss. It’s been days since either Groom or I have written an entry, but if we had, it would look something like this…

Dear Diary, we packed the van.

Dear Diary, we unloaded the van.

Dear Diary, we’ve laundered the clothes, cleaned the house (again). Made more jewelry, rinsed the dishes, prepared for our housesitter, bought groceries, packed up our stuff, loaded the van.

Well, you get the picture and see why we would never bore you with such snoozy details.

In case you’re still awake, we’re almost ready to hit the trail again, heading for Seattle this time to sell our jewelry at the U-District Street Fair, where as you can see by this sign, you can find anything including “Psoriasis and Exzema.” Apparently it is free and lasts forever.

And with the iffy-mixed weather reports, all I can do at this point is invoke the well-worn and beloved ancient Saturday Market incantation, “sun, oh sun, sun I hope.”

Queen Mums For a Day

2011-05-08T11:50:00.001-07:00

Happy Mother's Day to all of you who are moms, have moms, or know a mom ... be sure to treat her like a queen today.

We are combining our mom visit with Medford's annual Art in Bloom festival. For the next few hours you can find us in our traditional location on the plaza by the Ginger Rogers Theater - so far the weather is holding out, but you may want to make it quick!

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Whatever The Weather

2011-04-30T16:57:00.001-07:00

What do moms, kids, and shopping have in common? Mother's Day is a good guess, but that's next weekend. If you add art, rain, and the OSU campus to the list, you get Mom's Weekend. Those proud parents of educated Beavers converge upon Corvallis, and spend the next couple of days visiting frats or sororities, attending a variety of events, and generally getting to sample a bit of life on the quad.

One of the events is the annual Art Faire, and thus, here we find ourselves as well. Kudos to those who braved the less than appealing weather and browsed the booths, and fie to those who didn't (did I mention this used to have a Rennaissance theme?).

Anyway, this is our first on-the-road entry for the season, but don't fear - I'm sure things will get more interesting as the weather improves...

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Our Wicked Journey

2011-04-24T13:21:00.000-07:00

After seven years of anticipating, and four missed opportunities in New York, last night the secrets of Elphaba, the future Wicked Witch of the West, and Glinda the Good were finally revealed to us in Wicked, the longest-running show in Broadway’s history.

The beloved musical opened in 2003 and by the time Groom and I had our first chance to visit New York together in 2004, it was completely sold out. Disappointed!

In 2005, while I assisted at a Fashion Show, training for platform work there was not one moment available to see any sites, much less spend three hours sitting in a theater, as I spent all of my time in the Big Apple at the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center. Drats!

In 2008, when Kimmmm and I took Manhattan, we could have seen the show, but I made a deal with Groom that since he was sweet enough to stay home and take care of things while I tripsed and traipsed, I would not see Wicked without him. Aaaaaah…

A couple of months ago, when he and I were standing at the Broadway ticket kiosk at Times Square we could have seen it, but by that time, we already had tickets for the touring company coming to Eugene.

Suffice it to say that last night’s performance at the Hult Center was a highly anticipated event. The morning began with sunshine and a lovely day spent at The Eugene Saturday Market.

Loading our booth structure back in the van, we washed the dust from our hands and just had enough time to make our dinner reservations with friends at The Excelsior Inn Ristorante by 6pm. Fairly adventurous eaters, we tried Black Squid Ink linguine (yes, pasta made from the black ink of a squid) and Wild Boar. Belch. ‘Scuse me.

Walking into the performance hall with five minutes until show time, I managed a long-lined trip to the ladies’ lounge and then found my seat just as the lights went down. Phew! That was close.

Even with the pressure of high expectations, the cast of Wicked delivered. The costumes were so gorgeous they almost made me weep. I wanted every single one of them plus the shoes. I think I turned as green as Elphaba with clothes envy.

Which leads us to this morning. Happy Easter! A girlfriend of mine is moving today and I loved this quote from her email, “Excited about moving some things and getting the keys. As one of my funny friends said, Jesus moved from His home (the cave that day too).”

So maybe an even better celebratory greeting for today would be, "Happy Moving Day!"

Shoe Biz

2011-04-20T14:33:00.000-07:00

First came the invitation, then the R.S.V.P-ing, then lining up behind the red velvet ropes, and finally, after actually being on The List, ushered in.

What on earth am I prattling on about? Well, I must back up a moment. Nicknamed Cinderella for a reason, me likey shoes. Regardless of what anybody says (evil stepsisters included), I think I have great taste in footwear.

A woman at the Eugene Saturday Market recently asked me where a great place to buy shoes in Portland was. My answer was the brand new John Fluevog Store of course! So imagine my surprise when she replied, “Oh, is that where you and your friends get your clunky, old-lady shoes?”

Insert the loud sound of a vinyl record being scratched here.

My what? Did she say clunky, old-lady shoes? I had a minor heart flutter. And then I burst out laughing. Not for one second have I ever thought of my designer shoes as invoking images of either clunky or an advanced age bracket. No, no, no. Young, hip, stylish maybe, but definitely not what she said.

But to answer, yes, the Fluevog Stores in New York, Seattle, San Francisco and now, finally closer to home in Portland, are the places where Groom, my friends,and I buy our funky (rhymes with clunky), quirky, and colorful shoes.

And we were invited to the Launch Party! What’s a four-hour round trip drive when the opportunity to meet Himself is presented? We spent yesterday in Portland, hanging out with friends, enjoying the sun and rubbing elbows with the creative genius, John Fluevog.

Secretly, I was hoping for one of those posh gift bags, or a special sale, or some form of contest that would provide the winner with a pair of groovy shoes, but facing the longish drive home, we opted not to stay very late, so we don’t know how it ended.

But while we were there, oh what fun. Loads of great Fluevog shoes on display and even more on the feet of all the guests. It was one big gawk fest, everybody admiring what everybody else was wearing.

We were provided with refreshments and a D.J. in the corner kept the music flowing. One distraught man spilled red wine on one of the brand new leather display tables. Betcha that’s gonna stain. In his case, no matter how cool they were, we did not want to be standing in his shoes.

Hailing from Vancouver, B.C., John Fluevog has “provided unique soles for unique souls since 1970.”

Before I ever tried on my first pair (Thank you Kimmmmm!), I was drawn to his humor and philosophy.

Question: “Are John Fluevog Angels really satan resistant?”

Answer: “You’re wearing Angels right now, right? Look around - do you see him? Nope! I guess they are resistant. (Good thing, too. I heard he was asking about you.)

My philosophy? Shoes should make you smile!

April Shadows

2011-04-16T12:40:00.000-07:00

Our internal alarm clocks woke us up at 5:30 this morning. It was still dark outside and ugh, also raining. The desire to remove our bodies from the comfort of the warm bed and set up the booth in the cold, wet conditions was very low. So low in fact, it didn’t happen.

We are playing hooky from the Saturday Market. Can you hear me giggling?

Instead of standing outside in the damp environs, we decided to sleep in, read, sip coffee, snuggle with the cat and play at making jewelry at a more casual pace, in the spirit of plenty.

So for all the brave vendors and staff who faced the elements and showed up to create today’s Market, we say Bravo! For all the customers who came down to lend their support and buy things, a hearty thank you.

And these photos taken this morning B.C. (before coffee) reveal our soft, tender mood today.

A bientot. See you later.

April Showers

2011-04-15T19:06:00.000-07:00

April has fangs. The month, not a person. When I consider the fourth month of our calendar year, pastel colors, fragile blossoms and fragrant raindrops spring to mind. And kittens. Kittens with razor sharp teeth and knife-like claws that slash and bite. The fantasy of April is much kinder than the reality.

First of all, the weather is completely unpredictable, mood swinging from twinges of sun to petulant clouds to downright nasty skin-soaking rain and revengeful hail. Apparently I am not alone in my suspicions of April, as T.S. Eliot once wrote, "April is the cruellest month." And my hunch unfortunately was correct, April statistics reveal it is also the month with the highest suicide rate.

So far, April has been an over-the-top month for many people we know, fraught with health issues, heart break, and unfortunately, anniversaries of suicide. I'm not intending to be dark or morbid, in fact, quite the opposite. When all is swirling and overwhelming, it's important to remember to breathe.

And while remembering to breathe, I was inspired to make this over-the-top necklace. Like I've said before, my philosophy about emotions is to decorate them with food and art. I've done the art part, now it's time for dinner.

In a Blaze...

2011-04-08T11:35:00.000-07:00

Well, another week has flashed by, and by flash, I mean streaked naked in such a blur that I had to ask, “What on earth was that?!”

The opening of the Saturday Market was nothing to call home about, so in fact, I did not call home about it. My parents bless their hearts, after 20 years of Groom and I selling our whimsical jewelry designs on the Park Blocks, are still interested in each week’s report.

I told them that it rained, it hailed, and the sun peeked out: In other words, a typical April day in Eugene.

This photo is of me and another vendor on opening day last Saturday. I found these delightful sock monkey hats at a kiosk in New York, just around the corner from Trinity Church and Ground Zero. After a sobering visit to that area, the sight of these silly hats struck the right note and got me in my smiley place.

I won’t burden or bore you with the painful, feels-like-it-aged-me-ten-years difficult week we had (oh, lament, lament, the grief of loving others who are sick and in pain), but as a take a break moment, we were invited to join friends in Portland on Tuesday for our first NBA basketball game at the Rose Garden Arena to watch The Golden State Warriors take a rubber hose to the Portland Trail Blazers 108 – 87. Ouch! They were neck and neck for the first two quarters and were tied at half-time, but quarters three and four were brutal.

Coach Nate McMillan was quoted as saying, “A bad game. This is one of those games where you burn the tape and move on.”

We didn’t just get to sit in the bleachers, which would have been awesome, but we had the privilege of sitting in a swanky private suite, a deluxe sky box where they wined and dined us. The view was spectacular, the food delicious and the experience an incredible treat.

It never occurred to me how much the tickets might’ve cost as it was one of those businesses scratching each other’s back deals, but on a whim, I decided to look up prices for tonight’s game and I almost choked on my coffee. The cheapest ticket (per person) starts at $115 and goes up to $2,784. Sheesh-a-ma-leesh!

A bad week. This is one of those weeks where you burn the tape and move on.

Tomorrow is week two of the Saturday Market and I hope it prompts me to “phone home.”

Lookin’ Like a Fool

2011-04-01T10:46:00.000-07:00

Is it a prank if you can see it coming? Today is gorgeous, about the second nice day we’ve had in awhile. The sky is the color of rare, which we call blue here instead of normal, which is smudgy gray. The mercury is climbing to the lofty height of 66 which is where the April Fool’s joke comes in. Forecasters in the area are predicting a plunge of about 15 points for tomorrow with rain. For opening day at the Saturday Market. Am I supposed to laugh or cry?

In the spirit of foolhardiness because today is April First, here’s a little fool’s wisdom.

I wasn’t born a fool. It took work to get this way. – Danny Kaye

Talk sense to a fool and he calls you foolish. – Euripides

No one but a fool is always right. – David Hare

Only a fool tests the depths of the water with both feet. – African Proverb

It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt. – Mark Twain

And my favorite foolish reference is by Larry Platt, the 62 year-old man fed up with the boys wearing their baggy pants below the underwear line. Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, lookin’ like a fool with you pants on the ground. (That must be why this guy opted to wear his pants on his head…)

The Day After Tomorrow Turns 20

2011-03-31T14:40:00.000-07:00

If you’ve noticed that we haven’t been posting quite as many entries over the last week or so, there’s been a good reason. It’s because our official 20!! show season starts the day after tomorrow. Today being Thursday and Saturday Market’s opening day is, well, Saturday means everything begins the day after tomorrow.

The Day After Tomorrow has ushered in, gulp, twenty seasons and did you notice how perfectly the year aligns for us to celebrate this milestone? Since January first, it’s my habit to write our current blip in history of Two Thousand and Eleven with exclamation points instead of numeral ones.

We started our business of designing jewelry in 1991 when Groom and I were newly weds and college grads. As if to punctuate our 20th anniversary, the year of our Lord thoughtfully became 20!!

I enjoy words for groups of things like a murder of crows, a smack of jellyfish or a deceit of lapwings, but I’m not quite sure what the right one is for a group of many things that must be done: A nuisance of errands, a riot of hurdles, a siege of tasks?

Our “to do” list is longer than Santa’s scrolls of naughty or nice. The 8’ X 8’ wooden booth must be located, de-cobwebbed, tweaked, waxed, the fabric washed and re-fireretarded, the panels refurbished, the van repacked, all the accoutrements found and organized and there’s something else to do niggling at the back of my mind. What is it?

Oh yeah, stock to be made. Ha! I’ve been living on Fantasy Island for the past three months, studying and playing in Mexico in January, celebrating my birthday and Fashion week in New York during February and obsessing about my hair in March. Well, that’s another story, but I must confess, it’s been lovely to be at home these last few weeks, slowly getting into the swing of things whilst playing with friends and luxuriating in our final free weekends until Christmas Eve. Aaaaaiiiiieee, I’ve been a slacker!

Now the time has come and we must be ready. The house and studio are fairly tidy, we’ve made a few new pieces, but we’ve got to be more focused on designing NOW. With our newly emerging style and fresh jurying slides, we’ve been accepted into far more shows than rejected, so while that brings us tidings of joy, it also sets a little fire of panic, I mean motivation under our seats, so I’m off to get ready for a dinner party tonight, I mean, create more necklaces…

Sueno

2011-03-22T16:00:00.000-07:00

We’ve all heard references to the expansion of the Universe and the gathering momentum at which time seems to be accelerating, especially during these mythical, mystical months heading toward the unknown events of 12-12-12.

But I just experienced it. The time warp, that is. I dreamed that it was next year already, thanks in part to Richard and Jane Salley, the rock star jewelers that I’ve written about here a time or two. You see, while I’m still processing the new techniques we learned from them in Mexico in January they’ve already planned next year’s retreat and sent out the invitations.

So, dear amateur therapists out there, I need some assistance with dream interpretation. Ready?

It is the first day of spring in Oregon, which means a cloudy morning followed by a wink of sun and a temper tantrum of hail. Through the grey bars of rain I can see blurred pinks and greens of blossoming things.

Suddenly I am in Mexico at the Hacienda Mosaico. The sun has charmed the flowers into full blush and the breeze tickles our ankles and cheeks. The sound of salt melting on the margarita glasses followed by cheers and clinks make me smile as the participants reunite. And this time, Lola has joined us!

Dead giveaway cowboy boots, we hear Richard and Jane sauntering up the stone path before we see them. Cheers erupt and there’s a flurry of hugs and shoulder claps and how-you-doings as we sit poolside nibbling, noshing and catching up.

Sascha is wearing the necklace she won a Blue Ribbon first prize for in the Ajijc Society of the Arts Annual Judged Show. Congratulations, we’re all so happy for her!

With us egging her on, Lori slowly inches up her pant leg to reveal the impressive scar she recently acquired from knee surgery. Ouchey wah-wah!

David is holding a copy of Best of America Jewelry Artists Volume II and casually flips to pages 45-46 to show us some of his work. After the group expresses the appropriate number of ooh’s and aaah’s, I subtlety cough under my breath, “pages 61-62” and what do you know, there’s some of our jewelry in there too! The group raises a glass to our 15 seconds of fame as well.

Then we get down to business. Richard and Jane pull out examples of the new techniques we’re going to learn over the next five days and then –

And then I wake up. Noooooooo. It was warm. It was beautiful. I was happy and about to start creating again with interesting people in the lush environment of the Hacienda Mosaico.

So, gentle analysts, what ever could this dream mean?

Luck of the Irish

2011-03-17T11:11:00.000-07:00

Top o’ the morning to ya.

Today is St. Patrick’s Day, a day the Irish have been celebrating for over 1,000 years. When I think of March 17th, images of shamrocks, leprechauns, rainbows and pots o’ gold spring to mind. And wearing green of course so as not to get pinched, and kissing the blarney stone for eloquence.

Growing up, Groom thought he was Irish as people were always putting an “O” in front of his name and volunteering him for things. “Oh, Don’ll do this, Oh, Don’ll do that.” Yep, he thought his name was O’Donnell.

In the spirit of the day, here’s a bit of Irish wit and wisdom.

You’ve got to do your own growing, no matter how tall your Grandfather was. – Irish Saying

All money is tainted, tain’t none of it mine. – Thomas Francis McGuire

I spent 90% of my money on women and drink. The rest I wasted. – Soccer superstar George Best

Sign on a Kinsale, Ireland shop: Out for lunch. If not back by five, out for dinner also.

I often take exercise. Only yesterday I had breakfast in bed. - Oscar Wilde

A limerick packs laughs anatomical
Into space that is quite economical.
But the good ones I've seen
So seldom are clean
And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

I gave up women and alcohol – it was the worst twenty minutes of my life. – George Best (again)

Yes, but do Leprechauns believe in you?

Slainte!

Fragile Beauty

2011-03-14T12:21:00.000-07:00

On the day of the Japanese earthquake, 3-11-11, we had a vase full of tulips sitting on top of the piano. A loud, rumbling truck idled in front of our house while waiting for the traffic light to change. The vibration knocked a petal off and the beauty and comparison of the fragility of life cut deep. I saw the world as a bouquet of countries and Japan just had a piece of itself die.

In response to the quake I feel, "Watashi no kokoro wa zutazuta desu." My heart is broken or is in tatters.

On the other hand, friends know just the right thing to do or say to make things better. God's Minion just sent this photo to us from the Bahamas. In case you can't read the sand writing it says, "Love you Cindia and Don." From one end of the globe to the other, love really does make the world go 'round.

Japan

2011-03-11T12:47:00.000-08:00

All day yesterday I be trippin’ down memory lane because on March 10th of 2009 Groom and I flew from the Left Coast of America over the International Date Line to arrive in Osaka, Japan on today’s date of March 11th. Many of you were reading the blog and might recall us sending brief entries whenever we had access to computers, which was a lot less than we thought considering where we were.

Since the memories are still fresh, Groom and I were tossing back “Do you remembers?” all day yesterday. This morning we woke up to the news that Japan is suffering massive earthquakes and tsunamis. My heart is breaking.

You see, part of the reason we went to Japan was for closure. I had to visit the grave of a dear, dear friend and say goodbye. Places and people to which I grew attached had gone missing in the devastating Kobe earthquake of 1995 and walking through familiar paths and seeing what survived and what had been demolished was tough and the reunions with folks still alive and accounted for brought such immense joy, but now to watch the “live reports” and videos of the current damage just sends shockwaves through my being.

So please join us in sending love, prayers and blessings of light to those experiencing this great upheaval first hand. Thank you.

Show and Tell

2011-03-10T11:02:00.000-08:00

Oh we do have something to show and tell!

Way back in the early 90’s, when Groom and I had been making our whimsical stamp jewelry for a year or two, a vendor at the Eugene Holiday Market displayed a book on his counter, a collection of photographs featuring cool, groovy jewelry artists and this vendor’s work was included.

I remember picking up the book, staring at the professional jewelers represented within its pages and sending out a wish (a longing) to the Universe that someday our work would be in a book like this. New to the business, the inclusion in such a book screamed validation to me, a “you are worthy” visa stamped in my passport of the approval trip I was on.

Well guess what? Last year we were informed that our work was going to be included in a book called Best of America Jewelry Artists volume II. We didn’t tell anybody. No, that’s not quite true, we told our enameling teacher last February.

A year later the book finally came out and when we came home from New York last month, we discovered that we are featured on pages 61 and 62.

The irony, of course, is that we have been transitioning into a different style of jewelry and what is in the book is not what we are currently focused on. Groom commented that it would have been better to have our new stuff in there. I nodded my head in agreement, but then later it occurred to me that’s not what I visualized all those years ago.

I clearly saw our stamp jewelry in the book. And, it’s kinda perfect to have the book in our hands on the 20th anniversary of our business.

And, of course, in the Wisdom of the All Knowing Being we call God, the validation, the stamp of approval from outside sources does not come until we no longer need it. While I think this book is sweet, I am no longer in the place where I think this is IT, the end all, it’s just a lovely thing to have happen.

And by no means, do we feel that we are “the best of America Jewelry Artists.” There are fantastic jewelers right here at the Eugene Saturday Market and at every show we attend and at the retreat in Mexico (in fact, one of the participants we worked with is on pages 45 and 46), and then there’s Richard and Jane Salley and Keith Lo Blue and …

Pssst, but between you and me, I have to admit I’m a little jazzed to have this book on our counter when the 20!! Show Season starts.

Spring Swing

2011-03-07T14:37:00.000-08:00

A quick follow-up to a reader question about using coffee grounds in the shower as an exfoliant. No, unfortunately, it does not turn your skin brown as that would save many of us from looking so pale during these winter months, but it does wreak havoc with the tub. It’s a messy, messy endeavor and you’ll have “fun” cleaning up afterwards.

If you use fresh coffee grounds and you’re partial to the smell, then you’ll get a refreshing charge out of the experience, but I recently discovered leaving them in the plastic container for more than a day or so, they can start to smell a bit more ash-trayish.

So when you rinse, then no, you won’t smell like coffee, but you’ll have a light layer of an oily residue left over and that’s a good thing as it’s supposed to be good for skin.

R. A. I. (Research According to the Internet) tells us that using coffee grounds as a scrub helps to smooth the appearance of dimply cottage cheese thighs, so that’s a bonus. Plus, it brings the blood to the surface, well, not all the way to the surface because then you’d be scrubbing too hard, but it tends to turn your skin red momentarily from increased circulation.

But on to other things.

I’m suffering from an overwhelment of paper. Like many whose weakness is chocolate, carbs or bread specifically, I’ve recently recognized that Hi, my name is Cindy and I’m addicted to paper.

I picked up so many business cards, brochures, playbills and the like while in New York, my luggage weighed in several pounds heavier at the airport on the way back than at the start. Ha, similar to my body. I’ve decided to try a Eugene-inspired Nirvana diet in the attempt to find “thinner peace.” Give it a second, ‘cause that’s funny.

There are two areas in our studio that remain completely wild and untamable, my beading table and work table. It’s absolutely frustrating to want to sit down and start creating but not be able to until I’ve dug myself out of the mounting piles of PAPER!

I’ll organize, sort, file or recyle mounds of the stuff only to wake up the next morning to more. Gaaaaah, I don’t know where it comes from. Groom has recently started calling me Lady Sheafs and Reams, Duchess of Ephemeric Chaos. Great.

Shifting topics once more, we attended Clay Ball again on Saturday. Clay Ball is an annual benefit for the Salem Art Association and we were invited to donate jewelry for the silent auction. We were wined and dined and entertained and hopefully they raised lots of money to continue supporting the arts.

This year’s theme was “Spring Swing,” and I wish I had paid more attention to the fine print because many of the attendees dressed up in 1920’s attire complete with flapper dresses and feather headbands and as most of you know, I love fashion and playing dress up, so I felt like I missed an opportunity.

On the other hand, my first impression of the swing era is the 1940’s, so I would have showed up in a vintage hat with netting and been off the fashion mark by two decades. With my new fairly severe bob, my hair did fit it and got several comments (as did my dress, shoes and jewelry…), so all’s well that ends well.

Before I sign off, it is my intention to clean my workspace (again) and actually get to work. After all the fun and travel during January and February, the March clock is ticking and wagging its finger at me, clearly signaling that jewelry needs to be designed and made for the rapidly approaching opening of the 20!! show season. I say this out loud for accountability and I hope to have something new to show and tell pretty soon.

Riding the Lion

2011-03-02T19:07:00.000-08:00

We have still hardly scratched the surface of our amassed photos from New York (more than 2,800), but came across this shot of A.J. O'Rourke singing atop one of the lions in front of the NY Public Library. You may recall from an on-the-road post that he climbed up there at Groom's insistance... He was very entertaining in person, and as a bonus, it turned out that his CD was pretty good after all. Who'd a thunk it?

Birthday Blob

2011-02-25T13:16:00.000-08:00

My mother called what I write a “blob.” She asked me yesterday, “Have you written any more on your blob?” I’m still laughing.

And today is her 80th birthday! She just informed me that she is no longer responsible for anything she says because she’s going to play the “old lady” card from now on. One of the things I love best about my mom is her sense of humor and her ability to make me laugh.

Speaking of aging gracefully, to borrow a much overused phrase from Britney Spears “Oops!...I did it again,” I just got my hair cut. Again. To be fair, the last time was in September, but as you know, I’m always changing my hair. One day short, the next day long, I like being a brunette, trying out the whole red-head thing, curious if blondes do have more fun…

Back to the salon: My stylist also just returned home from vacation, a three week trip to Costa Rica and Guatemala. While in Costa Rica, she visited a coffee plantation. There, the owner asked her how old she thought he was. Taking a hard look, he appeared anywhere from his late 40’s to early 50’s, so she settled on the median age and answered 50.

He laughed and told her he was in his late 60’s. His skin was beautiful. “What do you Americans do with your used coffee grounds?” the youthful plantation owner asked her next.

“Um, compost or throw them out.”

“Not anymore,” he told her. “From now on, put your used coffee grounds in a lidded plastic container and while you’re in the shower dip your hands into them and use them all over your face and body as an exfoliating scrub. It’ll do wonders for your skin.”

My stylist tried it with great results and now Groom and I are doubling our pleasure in the shower by recycling those coffee grounds (um, the first pleasure is drinking our favorite beverage!) and applying them to our epidermises, epidermi? hides, pelts, fur. No, scratch that, trust me, you do not want coffee grounds in your fur.

I just thought I’d pass along that beauty tip ‘cause you know I’m all about the coffee, and the hair, and the shoes and the –

Whoa, it snowed here yesterday, did it where you are? We had a fun walk in the flurry and then Groom grilled surrounded by the cold, fluffy white stuff. He’s like the mail service; rain, snow, sleet or hail, it doesn’t keep him from the barbeque.

Happy Birthday, Mom, we love you!

Gadget Girl?

2011-02-24T17:17:00.000-08:00

Most people afflicted with my fear of flying would have the good sense to stay home. But noooo, my love of travel has the deciding vote with 51% ownership of my body and I’m forced to power through my fears each time I embark on an adventure.

I’m often asked the question, “but doesn’t it get easier?”

Nope. Nyet. Nein.

But once I land safely on terra firma, my spirit comes back to life like a rehydrated sea-monkey. You see, I crave art and museums and attending the theater and glimpsing different cultures and collecting unexpected dining experiences. I like trying new things, listening to live music and gawking at unusual architecture, something other than strip malls and chain stores. I love learning and am so dang curious.

People have commented that I’m an old soul, but I don’t buy it. Everything still seems brand new to me and just about everything surprises me, including new fangled technology. Before this trip, I would have told you that I was not a gadget girl, but now I must contradict myself.

You see, three years ago, in February of 2008, Kimmmm and I went to New York for my birthday. We each had a camera and that was it. I called Groom each evening from the house we were staying (flat rate phone plan), to catch up on our days and say goodnight.

This time, when Kimmm joined us in New York during Fashion Week this February it was a whole new game. She and I were each carrying our cameras for the “arty/documentary” shots, but that wasn’t enough. Without saying a word, we each proceeded to whip out our Smart Phones so we could take pictures to post on Facebook and our respective blogs. We were uploading this, sharing that and it required twice as long to shoot anything. And we texted each other on the days we weren’t together or during the times were planning to meet up.

Three years ago life was simpler. I didn’t have a cell phone, didn’t know what a blog was and Facebook what?

On the subway rides home, I noticed how many people now had cords coming out of their ears, wires hanging down from their faces in the shape of a Y, connected to their mp3 players. I was kind of mentally making fun of how plugged in everybody was until I realized that I had my iPod with me. Pulling it out and sticking the buds into my ears, I was soon rocking back and forth, lulled by the rhythm of the train and relaxing with my personal music choices.

And speaking of choices, traveling often presents a dilemma for me - physical comfort or spiritual renewal? At home, I can select clothes and shoes from my closet which are appropriate for the weather and context and I can leave heavy items in the car if need be.

Living out of a suitcase, however, I must wear what I packed and once we left our Brooklyn Brownstone for the day I was stuck with whatever I put on. This included my coat, hat, gloves, shoes, bag and camera. If I wanted to bring anything else with me, I had to carry it all day.

We quickly discovered there were only two temperatures in New York this visit, icy cold or sizzling hot. As it was below freezing most of the time, we had to bundle up, but riding the subway was very warm and there was neither room nor time to disrobe to the comfort level in between stops. And buildings, including our apartment, were heated with the old fashioned steam heat. One temperature: sauna.

I describe all this because while traveling, from suffering the airplane nerves to the aching muscles, tired bones, heavy clothing, and sweaty chills, I was physically uncomfortable the entire time. My head and forehead itched from wearing wool hats every day, my skin rebelled from dehydration and wearing cosmetics, my innards seized into a stubborn ball, well, you get the idea.

But, but, but my spirit was so happy! My internal being soaked up the environment like a sponge, absorbing the pulsing electricity that is New York City, while my external being felt every bruise, knot and irritant.

When I return home, I am suddenly physically at ease again. I can sleep in my own bed, snuggle with my kitty kitty and blissfully return to comforting routines, yet…I am looking at the same old pit in the ground across from the library, the same kids spitting and swearing on the corner, the same dudes holding cardboard signs.

Hmmm, physical comfort or spiritual renewal? I guess that’s why I love going away and love coming home.

Running out of Gas

2011-02-21T13:33:00.000-08:00

I suppose it will come as no great surprise to any frequent fliers out there that our plane was delayed in San Francisco due to "weather" which put our return to Eugene into the wee hours of Saturday morning -- but we were surprised to have our flight routed the looooong way round from JFK to SFO to avoid major turbulence. When the pilot announced that we would be flying over Amarillo, Texas to reach California, the flight attendant's smiles all turned upside down. What was a five hour flight heading East became an eight hour flight coming back. Oiy! That's a long time in a small space...

We had intended to take the day off to get some rest, but continuing our love of theater we headed out immediately for Cirque de la Symphonie with Daniel Meyer as the Guest Conductor. This should have been easy, especially compared to taking the subway back to Brooklyn at midnight on the weekend schedule after seeing Billy Elliot at the Imperial Theater on Broadway.

We even laughed about it at the time. Standing there in the frenetic, craziness that is Times Square, trying to figure out the best way to get back to our night's lodging, we commented on the ease of attending events at the Hult Center. We can easily walk home or if it's cold and too late at night, friends drop us off.

But not this time. As four of us climbed the steps to watch acrobatics set to music, we realized that two of the tickets were missing. Our friend immediately grabbed his date's hand and jumped back into the car to race home and look for them. Meanwhile, Groom and I headed for the box office to see if there was any chance of ticket replacements. Yes! For a $4.00 surcharge they would reissue the misplaced ones.

Thankfully our friend answered his cell phone and immediately turned the car around. As it didn't take long, we figured they'd be back within minutes, enough time to enjoy the show.

Tick tock.

Finally, they popped back into the center for the performing arts at the last minute. Guess what? They had run out of gas and had to walk!

After two hours of listening to the Eugene Symphony play well known songs from Carmen, Swan Lake and Masquerade while a juggler juggled, a girl hoola-hooped and a bare-chested man in tight, white pants flew over the audience by hanging onto two white curtainy lengths of white fabric, we headed over to a local restaurant for dinner.

There, Triple AAA was called and they sent a man to put gas in the tank while we ate. All's well that ends well.

The running out of gas metaphor is incredibly accurate and reflective. We had an adventure, were entertained, ate good food, ran out of gas and managed to get back home unscathed. So, while it might seem odd that we need a vacation from our vacations, it really is time to refuel. I'm off to catch some much needed Zzzzzz's.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

2011-02-18T06:03:00.001-08:00

In just a little while, Groom, Ken and I are heading to the airport from Brooklyn to fly back home. I sure hope I don't have to pay extra for the bags under my eyes. Oi! have we ever packed in adventure after adventure. You know it's been a good trip when I requested sleep for my birthday, that or I'm feeling every bit of my 32 years. Ha ha ha.

We spent yesterday at the Museum of Natural History and then had a truly fantastic meal at Saraghina's Italian restaurant here in the Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood. In fact, the best food we ate during our entire trip has been here in Brooklyn. This is the friendliest area and we'd stay here again in a heartbeat.

We only encountered two unpleasant people and they were in Manhattan. Both were living on the streets and were tossing out verbal grenades as folks walked by. I'd love to tell you what was said because they certainly had a way with words. Ironically, I had my camera slung over my shoulder and WAS NOT taking any photographs when the lady aggressively instructed me to do things with it I had never, ever considered.

Another gentleman, a street musician using a new guerrilla marketing technique, was trying to force us to buy his CD. When we would not engage, he used the most creative form of the F-word that I have ever heard and it's still making me laugh. I wish I could use his phrase here, but I shall refrain.

Okay, time to leave for the airport. Hopefully, you'll be hearing more from us when we arrive home safe and sound. If you're reading this while we're up in the air, please say a little prayer for the nerves. Thank you!

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Birthday in the Big City

2011-02-16T05:51:00.000-08:00

With all of the fantastic things leading up to today, it's hard to imagine just what the day will bring...but, I already feel loved, and that's hard to beat!

We started yesterday with a yummy breakfast in the Park Slope area of Brooklyn, and wrapped up the evening with not one, but two, fun shows. While in line for tickets to Billy Elliott, we were invited to the taping of David Letterman. So much for that leisurely dinner before our second Broadway show of the week, but what a hoot!

Billy Elliot was a great show to see on Broadway, and the cast even received a standing ovation (which, unlike at home, does not happen at every show here). I have to say one thing, though - I now have a whole new appreciation of the Hult Center in Eugene. The sound, seating, and quality of the road productions staged there rival what we are seeing here. How lucky are we?!

Ken continued his string of surprising antics this AM by stringing up Birthday banners in the kitchen,which made that first cup of coffee even better (and we all know how much I love my coffee). Off now to enjoy the further fruits of the Big Apple.

A Happy Valentine's Day

2011-02-14T21:29:00.001-08:00

Every date should arrive bearing flowers, but especially so on Valentine's Day. This Ken with flowers was in a box in Times Square this afternoon, while our Ken (as usual) was outside the box when he left dinner unannounced and returned with a dozen roses for our sweetie-less waitress. He is a fellow who knows how to make someone's day!

He also made ours when he suggested seeing Mama Mia on Broadway. A lovely way to cap off a day that included a visit to the Guggenheim and a trip into Mood Fabrics (which will not need to be explained to you Project Runway fans out there).

A couple in love, good friends, and the most exciting city in the country - what could be better than that? We hope yours was happy, too.

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The City May Never Sleep, But...

2011-02-13T19:01:00.001-08:00

It is amazing how far you can walk in a day while meandering around in this town. I'd tell you all about it, but our Brooklyn bed is beckoning. Starting the day at the Blue Note for a jazz Sunday brunch was pretty cool, though...

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The Naked Cowboy!

2011-02-12T18:39:00.001-08:00

We heard about the "Naked Cowboy" doing his thing in Times Square before leaving on this trip, but thought that there was not a snowball's chance he would be out there this time of year... Well, he must have snow balls after playing out there today! Seriously - he acted like it was 70 degrees on a summer day, rather than mid-30's and light snow flurries (with a wind chill making it feel like 40 below at times). And he must be doing something right if he managed to be a high point of entertainment on another great day in the City.

We started the day at a coffee shop in the Dominican section of Brooklyn (how we wound up there is anybody's guess) with the best prices in town - $4 for ham and eggs with home fries and toast! Good eats, too. From there we entered the magical mystery tour that is the subway schedule on the weekends, and found ourselves at Trinity Church, rather than our original mid-town destination. Better to pop in there and hear the soloist than stress over a change in plans.

Since we were in the neighborhood, a quick browse through Century 21 Department Store was in order (right across the street form Ground Zero, where construction on the memorial is well under way). A brief consultation with a kindly local got us on the train uptown, where we eventually met up with Kimmm at Bryant Park to begin a jaunt through the Fashion District (where much of Project Runway takes place).

Ken's approach to life continued to rub off on us, as today Groom got in on the act and convinced a singer in front of NY Public Library to climb up on one of the big stone lions and perform a number. Groom claims it was the guy's own fault, as he had a line in his previous song about "riding the lion." He was so good natured about it, we now have a CD in our possession that I'm sure will make for interesting listening.

After a fine dinner at the Green Table in the Chelsea Market, we were drawn to the hubbub around the Standard Hotel, where figure skater Johnny Weir was taking part in Elise Øverland’s fashion event. Ken kicked into high gear once again, and made the night of a perfect stranger in the crowd of admirers (who was too shy to approach Johnny) when he took her by the arm and marched her right up for a photo op. Ken was rewarded a kiss on the cheek for his efforts by the appreciative fan.

With that being just a sampling of today's adventures, who knows what tomorrow may have in store for us?!

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Emboldened in New York

2011-02-11T20:08:00.001-08:00

If you have seen a runway fashion show, you probably know that the designer's name is usually displayed at the front of the stage. This is me posing there right after the show today, before we went backstage and I got a photo with John Crocco, the designer for the Perry Ellis line. (I didn't get that shot with my phone, so will have to post it later...)

I am either being influenced by Ken's approach to life, or something in the water out here makes you bold, but I am shocking even myself by talking our way not just into a celebrity event, but now an invitation-only fashion show!

For some reason I didn't let the news that we hadn't actually gotten our names on the official list stop me from heading into the big tent at Lincoln Center and talking the keeper of the List into letting us into the standing room line. Who would have thought I'd have the cajones?

If that wasn't exciting enough, after being let into the venue, we were ushered into actual seats - and in the third row, no less!

I thought that enjoying the show from these great seats and snapping the above pic was a pretty good start to the day, but Ken insisted on going backstage to check out the scene, and snagged the designer himself for another terrific photo op... What a morning!

The rest of the day was spent soaking up some of the many pleasures of midtown Manhattan, and capped off by a fabulous dinner at Peaches restaurant in Brooklyn. Perhaps I'll be tired enough tonight to override the wired and get some much needed sleep.

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Project Tim Gunn

2011-02-10T20:08:00.001-08:00

Here is a great story about a small world, the plus side of the power of the internet, and the combined powers of determination and visualization.

After eating at an Italian restaurant with a Polish waitress in NYC, we were browsing at a French store when we received a text from Kimmm (after a Facebook update) that Tim Gunn was heading to Stella McCartney's fashion week PETA event (not too far uptown from where we were).

We immediately hopped in a cab and went directly there. At the door Cindy was not going to be deterred by its being an invitation only party, and much to the surprise and delight of Groom and Ken, she was soon ushered inside. (It will come as no great surprise to anyone who knows him that Ken was able to talk his and Groom's way in, but this is out of character for Cindy.)

Emboldened by having clearly visualized meeting Mr. Gunn for quite some time leading up to this trip, not only did we get to be at the same party, but got the opportunity to meet him and snap this photo. He is as pleasant and gracious as you would expect him to be from watching Project Runway.

Tomorrow, due to a different Facebook connection, it looks like we will be attending the Perry Ellis runway show at Lincoln Center. We'll keep you posted!

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Snow Coney Island

2011-02-09T13:37:00.001-08:00

Talk about going from one extreme to another! At the beach in Mexico we had to be careful of sunburn, while at the beach here we have to worry about frostbite... We may have discovered the least crowded place in all of the greater New York area.

Tomorrow, Manhattan!

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My Suitcase Runneth Over

2011-02-07T16:53:00.001-08:00

Clearly I am going to have to pare down my layering options for the Big Apple... Trip preparations are in high gear, but I'm not even finished packing. Yipes! This doesn't seem like me at all, but I'm taking a new approach to things these days. We'll keep you posted as to how this works out.
Wish us luck!

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Test Entry - Anniversary Sale

2011-02-05T10:56:00.001-08:00

As we are getting ready to hit the Big Apple, and want to post from the road, here is our inaugural entry from our new fangled phone!

The photo is of the nibbles selection (to sustain the power shoppers we expect to come out for our big sale).

Who would've thunk 20 years ago when we started doing this we'd still be going strong?

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Viva Mexico - The Nature of Art

2011-02-04T11:15:00.000-08:00

I recently read or heard an insightful quote about the inspiration of art. But I can’t quite remember what it was. It had something to do with all art being religious or, ahem, feminine and masculine in nature shall we say.

These two photos are examples of just that, both taken in Mexico. I love this one of Groom’s, how he managed to frame the subject matter - pointy, male leaves in front of lady spirals – and all that color. He’s showing us the birds, the bees, nature, plus human-made art layered with fractals. Every day, I seem to fall a bit more in love with him as he reveals yet another facet of his personality.

Meanwhile, the next photograph is one I took in a beach-front cantina. When Groom looked at it on the computer screen when we got home, he tried to rotate it 180 degrees so it would be right side up, but I stopped him, telling him that’s how the saint’s painting was hanging.

So whether or not you agree or disagree on the themes of art, go out and make some today.

Twenty Years?!

2011-02-03T16:47:00.000-08:00

Groom and I started our whimsical line of art jewelry in 1991 and by my calculations that’s 20 years! Every February we host an anniversary sale, an open house when we put our jewelry on sale (30 – 75% off) for one day only and invite our loyal customers and friends. It’s this Saturday, February 5th, from 10am – 4pm, so come on down.

We nosh, nibble, sip and kibitz. It’s a fun day to reveal new designs, sell some of last year’s items and prepare for the coming season.

Aah, the house is clean, the yard is spruced up and colorful spring flowers are planted. Groom’s in the kitchen baking away and the aroma of fresh pumpkin bread is wafting to where I am sitting at the computer, teasing my nose. Fortunately, or unfortunately, however you look at it, he made brownies earlier, so I just scarfed one down with a delicious cup of coffee. I asked him to hide them, so I would not be further tempted and he just looked at me and said, “Woman, control yourself.” Funny!

The sky here is blue today with the sun shining and the birds singing. With Valentine’s Day around the corner, I feel compelled to write this blog as a Valentine to life in general, to the beauty that surrounds.

Years ago, my mother began writing every day things that she felt gratitude for and my father, he is one of those (rare?) men who can actually say “I love you,” out loud and he is very forthcoming with his appreciation. I am lucky to be blessed with such examples.

Picking up the tradition, I keep an Alignment Journal. I write down at least eleven things everyday that I am grateful for, appreciative of, and happy about. I chose eleven because it is such a powerful number for me personally, one of my favorites and it also happens to be 20!!

I also write down things that line up, for example, I looked at the clock today at precisely 11:11am. Anytime I notice “coincidences” and synchronicity, I try to make a note of it. In other words, alignment. The more I notice, the more they show up and it’s so much fun to look back, even a few days later, and realize how bountiful life can be.

Pets, friends, loved ones and customers are mainstays in my life and I want to make certain each and every one of them know just how much I love and value them.

Viva Mexico - Zolo Ma cheese mo

2011-02-02T18:47:00.000-08:00

“Deep down I’m very superficial.” - Ava Gardner

While traveling, I’m always riveted by the sights, sounds, weather, and experiences of wherever I am and part of that includes people watching. Or people watching me. At least that’s what I thought was going on.

Let me set the stage. Groom and my traveling companion to Mexico, the person who made it possible for us to go by receiving a week’s stay at a resort as a business-related incentive, and used his accumulated airline miles to get us there, is nicknamed Zolo. For those of you haven’t heard this part yet, he misread my handwriting and interpreted the date of 2010 as Z0l0 and he’s been known as Z0L0 ever since.

To say Zolo is a character would be underselling things. For those of you who have met him, you know what I mean. He’s got a booming voice, a white beard and his personality is larger-than-life. He often wears patchwork pants and whether he’s being compared to Santa Claus, Popeye or a Sea Cap’n, people gravitate to him like a magnet.

Now, I know he’s friendly and very popular here in our town, we can’t go anywhere without people calling out his name and saying hello, but quite honestly, I didn’t know how his style was going to be received within a different culture.

Ha! No need to worry.

Let me take us back to the beach, on our first full day there, when the three of us went sightseeing in Puerto Vallarta. We’re sauntering along the boardwalk with the ocean on one side and interesting shops lining the other. I’m trying to take it all in, including the people.

I can’t help but notice how many smiles I’m getting. As I walk by I take note of all the staring and friends punching each other on the shoulder to get their attention and pointing my way. Well, why not? I’m looking not so bad, I’ve got on a nice outfit, oversized sunglasses, I’m feeling so happy and excited to be there, why shouldn’t folks notice the beaming American girl?

After quite a bit of this, I wave to the next group of people who are smiling at me. But they don’t wave back. And that’s when it hit me. Nobody was looking at me. All that attention was going straight to our 63-year old friend! Then I started laughing, relieved nobody knew what going through my head.

I asked Zolo if he realized he was causing a stir and as soon as he looked up and realized it, men and women came out of the woodwork to talk to him and have their photo taken with “the rock star.”

We sat down at a beach front restaurant and hadn’t even ordered water yet when one woman came up to him and told him how darling he was and they started chatting and exchanged email information. While we were in class one day, he went on a “jungle tour” and by the end of it, a woman had slipped him a napkin with her contact info on it.

Oh, my goodness, he danced and flirted his way through Mexico. They loved him down there.

And on a related note, today is Groundhog’s day. Rumor has it Punxsutawney Phil did not see his shadow so predictions for an early spring are in the air. This is good news, considering all the snow blanketing much of the country. A week from today, the three of us are supposed to be in New York for Fashion Week and to celebrate my birthday. Hmmm, will those patch pants end up on the catwalk?

Viva Mexico - The Frida Edition

2011-02-01T15:58:00.000-08:00

Mexico brings to mind many images: The warm sun, beautiful beaches, kind people, palm trees, and color, but for me, nothing says Mexico more than Frida Kahlo (1906-1954).

Most of you know that I have long been accused of reminding people of the notorious artist, so one day I decided to dress up like her, augmenting my eyebrows in the process and the rest you could say, is history.

Kimmmm bought me a Frida finger puppet to match hers from Nick and Prestons Imaginarium when we went to New York together in 2008. At this writing, we are supposed to go there a week from today, but with all the ice and storms, we have no idea if it will happen. It’s a nail biter…

But back to Frida. For the last three years, little Frida has traveled in my purse, going on various adventures together. How could I deny Mini-Me a trip to her homeland?

Frida hangs with her peeps.

Sombrero rooftop view of the Malecon.

Hmmm, check out all the hombres in this place, Que Lindo!

Uh-oh, it didn't feel like I had too many...at the time.

More images of me, me meeeee!

Banderas Bay, baby.

"You are the wind beneath my wings..."

Frida made a fun friend with Aqua Junko Artworks

Frida is overcome by Sascha's hommage necklace.

Mwa ha ha, Frida with Lori's skull.

Love love love love love love love this!!!!!!

Frida getting into more trouble at Le Bistro Jazz Club

A Frida inspired necklace Cindy made in the "Fun with Dick and Jane" workshop at the Hacienda Mosaico.

Frida sunbathing with new amiga at the Villa Del Palmar Resort in Puerto Vallarta.

Viva Mexico - Shutterbug Fever

2011-01-31T12:28:00.000-08:00

Groom and I differ in how we go after a photograph. He notices the direction of light, waits patiently for the right scene, sets up a shot carefully. Me? I point and shoot. One can usually find me with a camera in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. My approach is, well, rather casual.

I take 2-3 times as many pictures as Groom because I don’t have the patience. If it catches my eye, it triggers my finger.

I’m a documenter. I like to capture moments like this when we got our bill from the beach-front cantina. It was a simple, torn piece of paper written in pencil and deposited on our damp table, held in place from the tropical breeze by a dirty salt shaker.

Most of the people shots I take are in the moment. I try to capture what I see, not spoil the moment by walking up to them, interrupting the tableau and asking permission. When I’ve tried that, most are quite cooperative, but then they pose, giving me their camera faces. I want the real scene. That’s why some of my shots are blurry, like this one of the little girl staring at me on the bus.

I shoot while I’m walking, parasailing, in a taxi or on a bus, so I don’t always have the most steady hand. I don’t get to set up the shot or have time for a “redo.” But even if they are a little blurry or dark or too bright, I have the memory which brings back the feeling I wanted to save in the first place.

These photographs are a few in the people series and I hope you enjoy a peek into the second-hand window of our cameras.

Viva Mexico - La Comida!

2011-01-30T12:58:00.000-08:00

It happens before every trip. At least one person will express fear and trepidation about ever going to a foreign country without speaking the language. I guess I’m lucky, because I went on my first overseas trip to Japan as a teenager and had not one word of Nihongo under my belt.

But no worries I soon discovered, people who must traverse the language barrier often have more meaningful conversations than those who share their mother tongue. Why? Because we have to listen, try harder and incorporate body language, hand signals, humor, smiles and graciousness.

Everywhere we’ve ever gone, we travel as guests. We understand that it is a privilege to enter someone else’s country and do our best to quickly learn the phrases of politeness, such as Bonjour Madame before ever asking a question, or Buenos Dias, Senor before launching into any attempts at conversation.

We have discovered that with even the slightest attempt at speaking their language, most people are patient with us and are more than willing to interact. In other words, it has not been necessary to be fluent in order to travel agreeably.

And, with many phrases being used situationally, it is easy to pick up the necessary meanings or gist right away. For instance, La Comida. I’m not sure if it means the food, the lunch, the supper, or the meal, but I’m pretty sure it has to do with edibles.

And this is what today’s entry is about, one of my favorite subjects, food! I love to eat as you can see by this truth telling photograph, and while that large glass looks like it be filled with a margarita, that, my friend, contained the most delicious fresh squeezed grapefruit juice.

Groom and I think we are fairly adventurous eaters, but haven’t worked up the nerve or the appetite to try say, roadkill or anything with brains, intestines and the like. We try not to eat at chain restaurants, instead preferring to discover out of the way restaurants and immersing ourselves into the local cuisine.

We have a pretty good knack for finding great places to eat and this trip was no exception. The only thing I have to complain about is that we could not find anything spicy. Groom and I love to eat food that is muy picante and caliente. My effort at saying very spicy and hot. En fuego. On fire.

But as for having eggs and refried beans for breakfast, that was not unusual. We often have beans for breakfast including today. Oh, we’ve been known to eat spicy quesadillas for the first meal of the day at home or roasted jalapeños so we had no fear of either the food or the water. We mostly sipped the bottled stuff, but drank tap water from our room sink that had a “filter.” No problema.

We love our coffee and the stronger the better. We giggled at having found some “Legal” coffee and wondered what the illegal stuff might taste like?

These are just a few of the pictures we took of food. Don’t be surprised, later on down el camino, the road, if you don’t find some more mouth watering images posted here.

Via Con Dios!

Viva Mexico - I Did What??!

2011-01-29T14:08:00.000-08:00

A week ago was one of the best days of my life. I can hardly believe that last Saturday, I woke up in sunny Mexico at the Villa Del Palmar Resort. Groom and I had completed our jewelry making workshop and we had one day remaining of our vacation, the only day in which we could just relax and not have to be anywhere.

Like we did each morning while there, we took our coffee to the beach and watched the sun rise, the light kissing the waves, the many-hued rocks, the palm fronds. Such things soothe my soul and invigorate my spirit.

We positioned our lounge chairs and umbrella by the water’s edge and settled in for the day. I brought the excellent book I was absorbed in, The Help by Kathryn Stockett, excited that I would finally get the long awaited fantasy to unwind and read on a tropical beach.

That was not meant to be.

Local vendors selling everything from squid-on-a-stick to gum-wrapper purses and straw bags to wheel barrows filled with candy (we counted at least 34 different items being hawked), would stop by and interrupt my napping or reading in intervals of every three minutes or less.

“Practically free,” they’d say, offering me a “special American price,” of $100.00 for a bracelet. Ha! Special American price indeed. “Buy now, pay later,” they’d push.

I realized immediately that I could read when I got home and that the real show was happening all around me. Men in fedora hats and speedo trunks (yes, on the same couple) made my eyes pop out as did the variety of sizes and shapes pouring out of bikinis.

And then I saw it. A brightly colored parachute on the beach. Hypnotized, it seems now, I got up from my comfy chair and with arms practically stretched out like a sleep walker, headed over to where it was. Two gentlemen, “professionals,” they repeatedly told me, were just opening up business for the day.

Parasailing.

The wind was perfect they said, wouldn’t I like to try it? My stomach lurched, a storm of butterflies suddenly rising from nowhere. Gulp. I had wanted to try it for years. The added incentive was that my Uncle (God rest his soul) and Aunt had tried it on one of their vacations long ago. I figured if the older set could do it, so could I.

Now, this next part is where you might conclude I am rather slow or dimwitted and honestly, I wouldn’t blame you. I had it in my mind that parasailing was a cousin to waterskiing. That instead of hanging onto a rope and being pulled behind a boat on skis, which I have done successfully, I imagined that I would be pulled gently behind a boat hovering over the water a few inches, maybe even at an altitude of all the way to 50 feet. I pictured it exactly like waterskiing, only air skiing. I could do this.

So we gathered our last pesos and threw in a few American dollar bills and showed it to the “professionals,” and asked them to count it and see if it was enough. They whispered and conferred with each other and then grinned, nodding yes.

Then they put me in the diaper harness. Once they did that, there was no where to go but up. Quickly. I had imagined a casual incline, a simple hovering over a few feet of water, but noooooooo. I went from terra firma to 700 feet straight up in the air lickety split.

On this speed launch to the moon, there was this sickening moment when I thought, “Lord, what have I done?” There was no turning back, no way to get down; I was in it for the duration.

I’ve been in airplanes, and even though they fly higher than seven hundred feet, I’ve only had a few inches of window viewing and there’s been a ceiling overhead and a floor to stand on. I’ve stood near the top of the Empire State Building in New York, on top of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, at the top of Himeji Castle in Japan, and the Acropolis in Athens with a panoramic view, but I’ve still always had a fence or a window or a wall as some sort of barrier to shield me and something solid beneath my feet.

The experience of being so high up in the air without much support but an old-timey playground swing tied to a piece of cloth and tethered to a motoring boat is something I shall not soon forget.

I saw a bird fly by and thought, is this how you feel? To see the world at every angle, the sky above, the water below and a 360 degree unobstructed view?

I wish I could tell you that I let go of the reins and free-floated without a care in the world, surrendering to the moment, but I would be lying. No, I was shaking so dang hard I couldn’t even hold my camera steady to look through the viewfinder for while, but shot free range. Any picture I got was pure luck or else God looking through the lens for me.

There is no word that adequately sums up what I felt. Although Groom was on the ground taking photos of me, the man in the motorboat knew where I was and the two “professionals” were waiting to help me land, I felt completely and totally isolated, so alone. Not lonely, but just far, far away from any human contact. I could see no one. I was no longer connected to the earth.

It was just me. And the bird, and the sky and the beauty. And my fears and my joy. I found myself making the oddest noise, somewhere between a wailing and a whimper. A very sad noise because I was so scared.

But as intense as the frightening part was, the exhilaration, the freedom, the epic nature of the beast was pure bliss. Both contained in the same moment. It was the scariest thing I’ve done and the most exciting thing I’ve done.

When I finally landed, I was so proud of myself for taking the risk. The guys upon seeing my “happy face” told me to go have a shot of tequila which I did not because I wanted to enjoy the natural high.

As if that wasn’t enough enjoyment for one day, more was still to come. Another fantasy of mine came to fruition: We got massages on the beach.

As I said, last Saturday was one of the best days of my life. So far.

Viva Mexico - Fun with Dick and Jane

2011-01-28T14:59:00.000-08:00

There are not many, if any, comments on the blog itself, but I receive quite a few emails from readers personally, through our website and on Facebook, and the next thing most people are interested in hearing about is the jewelry workshop. So that is where I’ll start today.

We had the privilege of studying with Richard and Jane Salley, two incredibly talented and innovative artists at the mind-boggling artful retreat, The Hacienda Mosaico. I say mind-boggling, because everywhere a person looks, there is a thing of beauty, either designed by the owner Sam (pictured here with me) or designed by God, i.e. natural beauty.

I say Sam is the owner, but between us, I really think it is Estela, her adorable puppy-child.

While the soundtrack in Mexico, at least in the parts where we were, was a lively mixture of dogs barking, workmen singing and playing traditional tunes on static-ridden radios, hammers banging, saws scritchin’, lots of yelling, horns a honkin’, the gas delivery truck’s megaphone jingle, and one, loud very persistant fan belt, inside the walls of the Hacienda Mosaico, we were in our own little world.

Groom and I arrived each morning, Monday through Friday, at 9am to eat breakfast with the other participants by the pool. The food was so delicious and bountiful, there is not room enough here to show you, so I’ll wait for another time. Food in Mexico is an entire topic unto itself.

The first couple of days, when we didn’t know where we were yet and my sliced toe was swollen and painful, we taxied. After that, we walked the rest of the time and enjoyed noticing the regular routines of the locals. Again, that could be a whole other posting.

The Hacienda Mosaico offers two complete studios. The first day we spent in the one located inside on the second floor (aren’t these steps leading to it stunning?). The remaining four days we worked in the second studio outside, under an awning.

Including both instructors who were from New Mexico, there were about 15 of us. The participants came from all over. Three lived in Mexico, at least two from Canada, Montana, Chicago, North Carolina, Florida, Maine… we were the only ones from the west coast.

I can’t even begin to describe to you the synergy and inspiration that develops in such an environment. Working in a tropical atmosphere, with talented people who share similar interests (travel, jewelry design, art, food), is a dream. Everything we wanted or needed, in terms of fresh mango juice, coffee or tea, and the right tool and helpful instruction came together to provide the most nurturing experience.

We all shared found objects, Milagros and images to incorporate into our design pieces and then took turns using the torch or whatever equipment was in high demand that day. At the end of the class, Jane commented that our group played particularly well together. We even took a field trip to the hardware store one afternoon and shared a dinner together in downtown before the Art Walk.

I get all moony just thinking about it. Our cold, dark basement studio is, let’s face it, just not as inviting. So while I am inspired to take what we learned and translate that into our style of jewelry, I am more motivated to start visualizing a studio like that of our own…

Hasta la pasta, baby!

Viva Mexico - Uh-oh, Where's My Purse?

2011-01-27T15:45:00.000-08:00

When we first found out we were going to Mexico and excitedly told people about it, their first reactions across the board were, “You’re going where? Why?” Everyone warned us about the potential dangers, but we felt at peace and figured most of the current trouble involved the border towns.

Puerto Vallarta is a tourist destination and is located in the middle of the coast line. We were not driving there, but arriving by air. Now I’ll ask you to take a close look at this first photo of me. Do you notice my expression? What do you think I might be thinking or feeling at the moment Groom snapped this shot?

I was shocked when I saw it, because at the time I was thrilled. We had just discovered this gorgeous restaurant called Le Bistro situated along the river not far from the ocean. It was the perfect fusion of all things Frenchy dropped in the middle of Mexico. It was elegant, charming and a delightful mix of two things I adore: France and the tropics.

So I was in heaven, blissed out and this is what my face looks like?? Yes folks, apparently this is my happy face. So, imagine if you will what my getting-on-the-airplane expression must be. For those of you not familiar, I do not care for any mode of transportation except for walking. Flying for me is one of the scariest things ever. I get verrrry quiet, practically shut down. Most flight attendants ask me if it’s my first time flying as they walk down the narrow aisle checking if seatbelts are on and trays are in the upright position.

This time, our flight attendant brought me wine from first class without even asking. She could tell I needed “medicine.” I tell you this because scary rumors about Mexico could not compare to my anxiety about flying. Once we landed safely, I felt like a fiesta!

Yesterday I wrote about leaving my purse on a bench along the Malecon. I had taken it off for the briefest of moments while posing for a picture (vanity is a cruel mistress) and forgot to retrieve it. You can actually see the moment when I am putting it down.

A little bit later, having gone further along the boardwalk, I noticed something felt different. When I realized my purse was gone, which contained everything – money, credit card, passport identification, drivers license – well, suffice it to say I had a bit of an apoplectic tizzy. Panic, fretting, looking around, images of identity theft and not being able to return home, left stranded without funds, being financially wiped out flashed through my mind in a nanosecond.

Retracing my steps, it finally occurred to me where I had left it. Waddling swiftly, I came upon the bench and dare you guess? It was still there! A man came up to me and told me he was watching it and was on the lookout for me. Isn’t that incredible? Nothing was touched. Everything was still in there.

I felt safer everyday in Mexico than I do my own neighborhood. I took this photo of a “predator set” which is a fancy term for security windows. We have ours at home covered in predator sets because our special location in downtown Eugene requires it. I could never imagine leaving my purse somewhere around here and having it still be safe and intact when and if I found it.

The people we met while there were very unhappy with the bad press Mexico has been getting. Businesses have been hit hard and the economy is suffering. Everyone asked us to assure people back home that most places in Mexico are safe, especially Puerto Vallarta. The crime rate is astonishingly low, practically non-existent. So, if it has ever crossed your mind to take a trip, now is an excellent time.

I’ll see you tomorrow!

Viva Mexico - A Bloga-novela

2011-01-26T16:16:00.000-08:00

Wow, where to start? Groom and I have just returned home from Mexico after taking a week long workshop studying new jewelry-making techniques with Richard and Jane Salley. I wrote about the magical way this trip unfolded in the blog entry Woo Hoo! Goin’ to Mexico…Thanks in Part to the Kalliope Artist Fellowship just in case any of you are interested in catching up.

We took 2,252 photos during the nine days we were gone. Within the first 24 hours I had used up my camera’s memory card and had to purchase a new one. So it is with great difficulty that we’ve been sorting through our photos, wanting to post the ones we feel might be of interest to you.

My tea bag came with the perfect wisdom tag this morning, “The purpose of life is to enjoy every moment.” Well, let’s just say that we definitely lived our purpose on this retreat.

To tell you that the expedition south of the border was amazing would be trite because it’s such an overused word, but from start to finish, this experience has touched on all the superlatives. It wasn’t just great, it was the greatest. We didn’t just have fun, we had the most fun. Well, you get the idea.

But who wants to sit in the January chill reading about somebody else’s tropical adventure? Even though we are giving this the big thumbs up, there were a few exciting moments here and there, like some blood and guts, our traveling companion falling on the rocks, slicing my toe and having it get infected (I had terrible visions of losing it, or my foot, or my leg…), seeing the immediate aftermath of two serious wrecks (uh-oh, we were riding the bus and one of the accidents involved a bus. Boy, did I ever have a Frida Kahlo moment…), and leaving my purse with everything in it – cash, credit card, passport identification on a bench along the Malecon, and not getting any sleep.

And as long as I’m in the confessional, we also met Jesus, and this next part is so embarrassing to admit, but what I learned about Mexico’s geography comes from watching The Love Boat as a teenager in the 70’s. I remember the Pacific Princess docking in exotic Puerto Vallarta, one of the cruise liner’s port o’calls.

Most of you probably already know this, but it was a new fact to me. Apparently Puerto Vallarta became a household name because of John Huston’s famous movie Night of the Iguana, starring Richard Burton, Ava Gardner and Deborah Kerr. It became a symbol of Hollywood glamour.

Puerto Vallarta is located on the Pacific side of Mexico about half-way down the coast, mas o menos (more or less). If you drew a straight line on a map from this resort city in the state of Jalisco to the United States, you’d run straight into New Mexico, so we had to move our watches forward two hours.

Situated on Banderas Bay (or Bahia de Banderas if you prefer), and surrounded by the Sierra Madres, the ideal location can boast, depending on who you talk to, that it is either the largest bay in Mexico or the second largest bay in the world. But no one seems to have the final word on that either. Poking around, Bengal Bay in the Indian Ocean claims numero uno while Hudson Bay vies for second place.

But whatever the case, it’s spectacular.

There is no way we can write and post everything in one day. So the plan is to make it simple; for you and for ourselves. Today was just the introduction and we intend to post more photos and episodes in the coming days, a bloga-novela if you will, so stay tuned.

Until then , que tengas un buen dia (have a good day!).

Happy 60th Anniversary!

2011-01-14T11:57:00.000-08:00

Although it happened exactly one month before Valentine’s Day, it doesn’t make it any less romantic. 60 years ago today, my parents got married. To each other. We tried to buy them a special card, but to our shock and amazement, the store only carried anniversary cards up to the Golden 50th. Apparently, with divorce rates and other considerations, the greeting card companies no longer feel the Diamond wedding anniversary a viable risk.

So we had to shop around. When we finally found a store that carried them, there were precisely two to choose from. But enough about that.

On January 14, 1951, my parents were 19-year old college kids. My dad asked my mom what she was doing for the weekend and when she shrugged, indicating nothing in particular, he asked her what she thought about sitting across the breakfast table from him every morning for the rest of their lives.

Their engagement lasted 29 ½ hours, the length of time it took them to pack my dad’s dark green 1939 Ford coupe and drive from the Bay area to Reno, NV, almost killing themselves and their witness on the wintry, icy roads. Did I mention they were 19-year old kids? Only knowing them as fairly serious adults, it’s difficult to imagine them ever as spontaneous or impetuous.

In fact, I just now learned how they got together in the first place. During an initial conversation, they both expressed interest in visiting New York City. Dad wanted to see the famous landmarks and mom wanted to walk barefoot down Broadway in the rain. They agreed to go together, and that was the beginning of their lifelong romance.

It took them 13 years to make it across country and by then they had three kids, including me, the youngest. I went on my first trip to New York City when I was four months old. And my next one to the Big Apple is planned for, ooops, I’ll write about that later.

For now, I want to wish my parents a very Happy 60th Anniversary and to tell them I love them. And how I appreciate the fact they are still good friends and enjoy each other’s company after all these years.

Woo Hoo! Goin’ to Mexico…Thanks in Part to the Kalliope Artist Fellowship

2011-01-12T11:20:00.000-08:00

I’m writing this on 1-11-11, although it’s starting to look like it won’t be finished until tomorrow. But how cool is the date? And here’s some extra alignment. This morning, I open the book I’m reading and the quote for the day is “Pack my bags, going to Mexico.” – Steve Miller Band.

Why is that alignment, you might ask? A few entries ago, I mentioned that Groom and I were dreaming of a white Christmas…in Mexico, and that there would be a story to tell at a later date.

Today is the later date.

Let’s just say that Santa Claus was verrrry generous to us for Jesus’ Birthday and slipped an all-expense paid trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico in our stocking. A friend’s humorous response to us when she heard the news was, “Well, it’s obvious you have a much better relationship to Santa than we do.”

I laughed and thought that’s not exactly Whom we have the relationship with. I know I’m a bit of a maverick believer, but it puts a smile on my face and a giggle in my heart when I think to myself (or say aloud sometimes), “Jesus wants me to have this new pair of shoes!” or “Jesus would like me to have a trip to Mexico,” and naturally I’d hate to disappoint Him.

Why do we have plans to visit Mexico? Last October, Groom and I attended a class with jewelry-guru Richard Salley. At the end of the day, Richard invited us to the inaugural workshop he’s teaching with his wife, Jane, who is also a talented artist. The name of their week-long class? “Fun with Dick and Jane.” Love it.

We immediately wanted to say Yes! and join them. The thought of spending time in warm Puerto Vallarta during the chilly month of January, learning new jewelry-making skills delighted our sensibilities.

But how??

Funny enough, I was listening to Mike Dooley’s audio book, Infinite Possibilities, gifted to us by God’s Minion and he says, “Don’t worry about the how.” Oh, okay.

The phone rings. A friend tells me about a grant opportunity. A woman wants to give money to an artist for “for travel, enrichment or the development of new ideas.” Shazam! Going to Mexico to thaw out winter bones and learn stuff certainly qualifies. We filled out the paperwork and jumped through hoops. Then it was time to wait.

In the meantime, I’m still listening to Mike Dooley. He suggests “acting as if.” Well, I could act as if we were going South of the Border. I purchased a 20!! calendar and marked out when we’d be gone. I looked up flights and took note of the routes. I went shopping, sifting through racks of clothes, imagining a wardrobe that would be perfect for both torch enameling and sipping margaritas on the beach at sunset.

Groom and I created a vision board, photoshopping ourselves in the tropics and included a picture of Richard Salley and his wife Jane, with descriptions of the workshop. We oohed and aaahed over the online images of the beautiful hacienda where the class will be held. We booked a housesitter.

The day of the grant award arrived. Alas, we were not the recipients (it was a basket maker). From the moment I heard the news until a coffee date with a girlfriend, I had 15 minutes to process the loss, as I did not want to bring my disappointment to the café with me. So during that 15-minute walk downtown, I had a conversation with myself in which I made peace with it. By the time I was sipping a cup of French roast, I had released it.

The next day, I receive a phone call from a friend. The first words out of his mouth were, “Boy, is it a good day for Cindy.”

It is?

Oh yes, he continues, and what follows is the rest of the story…

It’s at the end of the year (December 2010), and his business is just about to close for the Holidays. He receives a phone call from a vendor wanting to unload a bunch of raw materials. Our friend neither wants or needs it, especially as it will just sit there without purpose and count as inventory.

A few hours later, the vendor calls back. The guy really really wants to sell his product and offers it at a discount and throws in an “incentive.” Our friend gets a sudden “gut feeling” and agrees. Within minutes of buying it, his office phone starts ringing off the hook. He receives four, last minute orders that eats up everything he just purchased.

If he had received the orders first and then bought the goods to fill them, he would have paid full price and not been bribed. There was only one hang, he said. The incentive, a beautiful condo, was only available for one particular week in January, but did Groom and I want to go to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico? Oh, and he had more than enough frequent flier miles to get us there from buying all that material.

Hmmm, let’s see. We were invited to Puerto Vallarta in January. We didn’t know how. A grant opportunity arose. We applied. We listened to Infinite Possibilities. We acted “as if.” We did not receive the grant, but kept a positive attitude. We were invited to Puerto Vallarta in January, all expenses paid the NEXT day.

Oh, we’ll have to think it over, I told him. NOT. Ha, there was certainly a lot of whooping and thanksgiving and joyful celebrating in our household that day. Thank you Jesus!

“Pack my bags, going to Mexico.”

All In A Days Walk

2011-01-05T14:49:00.000-08:00

While your eye may suggest this is a fish darting about in a tide pool, it is really a speedy little bird caught in mid-flight...
The bark and moss of the tree trunk make it look kind of other-worldly.

I think we'll call this one "Red Door, Blue Door"

Dark Angel, Light Angel - Spiderman, Silver Surfer - perhaps the meaning of art is in the eye of the beholder.

Well, this one pretty much speaks for itself, doesn't it?

1-1-11

2011-01-01T16:04:00.000-08:00

Today, as I transferred important dates from my Zolo calendar (such as birthdays and travel plans) into my 20!! calendar, I ran across this quote scribbled in the margins and thought it in perfect alignment for 1-1-11.

"Open to a new understanding
a new vision
a fresh perspective
an inspiration
an illumination.
Send out this light to all who are in resonance with you and who you will meet in the coming year. Standing radiant, imagine this light clearing the path, opening the new, bringing inspiration throughout the year to come. This will bring a deeper understanding of your purpose, more compassion, an awakening heart, and a greater feeling of connection to your inner self and to all life.”

Adieu Zolo, Hola 20!!

2010-12-31T15:37:00.000-08:00

Oh I just love a good New Year’s mystery. Groom and I perambulated this afternoon with our cameras and these photos were taken today, the last of 2010. When we arrived at the post office, there was a package waiting for us. Inside was a book titled The Art of Good Living by Svevo Brooks.

The manila envelope displayed an unfamiliar address and no name, nor did it have any kind of a note. We have no idea who sent us the book, but we’d like to thank you. The interesting thing is that Groom and I were talking about the kind of year we’d like to create if 2011 came with no limits. We were discussing the “art of good living,” and then, as we walked back toward home, amazed by the mystery book, we saw God’s name written on the sidewalk.

I just wrote a couple of days ago about how quickly time flies, including a video of a cartwheeling clock, so I won’t spend any more words today concerning that aspect of the current year ending and the new one arriving.

To briefly recap, 2010 became known as Z0l0 when a friend misinterpreted my handwriting. Sad to see the year of Zolo passing, it occurred to me to give thanks for all the blessings that occurred within it and instead of giving 2011 the cold shoulder because it’s new and hasn’t proved itself yet, to actually set an intention to be more welcoming and anticipate the adventures that await.

Inspiration floated in the other day while considering the possibilities for 2011. Suddenly I saw its potential expressed as 20!! and have decided to spell it by substituting two exclamations at the end instead of using the traditional symbol for eleven. Coincidentally, the exclamation point and the number one is located on the same keyboard button, it just requires a simple shift.

Hmmm, a simple shift. Shift happens.

In our household, we don’t make resolutions. I mean, I could say that I’ll lose the extra 10-pounds, join a gym, promise to be a better human being (we heard a cockney accent pronounce it “hoo-man” the other day), and be more generous of spirit, but why lie?

I’ve discovered that starting out the year listing all my faults is not a good incentive for change; it just makes me feel bad. Instead, Groom and I started a new tradition last year and this evening we get to continue it.

A year ago on New Year’s Eve, we took some time by ourselves and wrote out a list of things we either wanted to achieve personally, see or experience. I don’t know what Groom wrote and vice versa. We agreed that a year from then, which is today, we’d pull out our lists that we kept in a very special place and take note of how many of them came to pass.

Then, we’ll write out another set of intentions and see how our lives grow, develop and expand by the end of 20!!

We hope all of us, you most definitely included, are here together next year. We extend our blessings that it is a year full of good health, safety, humor, fun, joy, bonding, prosperity and well-being.

Thank you ZoLo and we bid you adieu. Hello 20!! Welcome.

Happy New Year!

Doin' the Time Warp

2010-12-29T19:54:00.000-08:00

Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so. – Douglas Adams

I’ve always been suspicious, similar to the animated Toy Story movie trilogy where the toys come to life when the humans aren’t looking, that clocks either move forward or backwards when we’re not watching them.

For example, at work, the clock can stand perfectly still, imitating a statue, but when people are having fun or nod off to sleep the clock speeds up because we all know we didn’t get eight full hours when that darned alarm goes off.

On Christmas Day, just before our dinner, we were all discussing how quickly time flies. A heartbeat later, I hear Groom exclaim as he pointed to the clock. We all looked up in shock as the hands, behaving as usual a moment before, started spinning rapidly around its face, hour after hour passing before our eyes in an instant.

None of us could believe it, but there it was - time flying - and we caught it in the act. I grabbed my phone and Groom used the video feature to capture half a day going by. “Experts,” whoever they are, have warned that in 2011 and 2012, time will speed up even more. After what I seen, I’m a believer.

Which is probably why Benjamin Franklin said, you may delay, but time will not. Or why Albert Einstein suggested that the only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.

As most of you know, I just love a good quote, so I’ll leave you with a few more.

We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they’re called memories. Some take us forward, they’re called dreams. – Jeremy Irons

Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday. – Proverb

Time is more valuable than money. You can get more money, but you cannot get more time. –Jim Rohn

And my favorite of this batch…There is only one you for all time. Fearlessly be yourself. – Anthony Rapp

Solstice of the Eclipse

2010-12-21T11:58:00.000-08:00

The future Sun King of France, Louis XIV, was born in 1638. Charles the First was King of England and Delaware became a colony. On June 25th of that same year, a lunar eclipse was the first astronomical event recorded in the U.S.

Shakespeare missed it, having already been dead for 22 years, but Galileo might have seen it from his little house in Italy, had he not gone totally blind the year before.

For the first time in almost four centuries, a total lunar eclipse coincides on the Winter Solstice for a cosmic occurrence: Today the sun, the earth and the moon are all aligned.

While it might be the shortest day of the year, it is a mighty one, filled with all kinds of cosmic and human activity. With less than 100 hours remaining until Christmas, I’ll wish you a Merry One.

While visions of sugar plum fairies dance in our heads, we’re also dreaming of a white Christmas… white beaches in Sunny Mexico, but that’s another story.

Bright Lights, Small City

2010-12-17T11:29:00.000-08:00

Psssst…We discovered Santa’s secret. Did you know he really lives in a small trailer with Donner and Blitzen on the outskirts of the Pole? But more on that in a moment. First I have to ask, what happens if you wake up one morning and don’t understand your own culture?

That’s kinda what happened to us yesterday. I realize that we live in a bit of a bubble, a snow globe of our own, designing jewelry at home in our studio and then going out in public to sell it. But the public we mingle with are folks who attend art fairs and alternative festivals.

But yesterday, Groom and I did our annual day of Christmas shopping. I know, I know, there are people who can hardly believe that we only pop into the mall once a year, and even then it was for less than 15 minutes yesterday; two stores for specific wish lists. We usually shop at the Eugene Saturday Market and locally owned shops, so we are very spoiled.

But as we buy for those on our Obligatorium list (see Obliga-what? 12/10/10 ), we must venture out of our small, comfortable world and see what the other homosapiens are up to. It wasn’t all that pretty. We saw somebody write in purple ink on a napkin, “Big, Fat Slob,” and stick it under a windshield wiper. I guess it was their way of spreading “holiday cheer.”

After a full day of semi-fruitful shopping, we were picked up by a friend to join six others in a brand new, 2011 stretch limousine to gawk at Christmas lights for the evening. But we didn’t just see houses whose electric bills alone could finance a small country, we saw all kinds of larger than life inflatable characters and that’s when we discovered Santa’s downsized living conditions.

In spite of the commercialism, I heard a great line today from an audio book I’m listening to. Someone asked, “I need help, how do I connect with God?” Answer. “You are the connection point (as opposed to something or someone outside). Don’t try to be spiritual, just be yourself.”

Goat Romance

2010-12-15T14:12:00.000-08:00

I told this story to a vendor at the Eugene Holiday Market last Sunday and she started tearing up, saying there was hope yet for good relationships out there. Her response made me consider sharing it with you, although tears are optional because it made me laugh as well.

For those of you just tuning in, friends in Southern Oregon have a couple of kids. Nothing unusual about that, except the “kids” are goats. And by goats I mean hairy beasts with pointy horns and cloven hooves. So what? Lotsa people have goats.

Yes, but in their homes? Goats that lounge by the fire chewing cud or sit on the couch watching television and cuddling with their human “parents?” How many goats you know that have their own Santa stockings hanging from the mantle or wear leopard print customized diapers? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Because 150-lb goaties that dwell indoors take a lot of work, Goat Papa decided to take Goat Mama on a romantic holiday come Christmas. Last August, after he discovered that her favorite musician, Italian tenor Andrea Bocelli, would be in Las Vegas for a one-night only concert, he knew his challenge, should he accept it, would be to get her to that concert without her knowing. In other words, a surprise.

But a very important piece of information is that Goat Mama, while human, is more like a dog with a bone. If she even whiffs of a hint of a plot, she’ll dig and dig AND dig until she unearths it. Goat Papa knew who he was up against and decided to take her on.

Formulating his plan, the first step was to throw her off the scent. Concocting a story about winning free tickets to a Barry Manilow concert in Vegas, he managed to invent an email to himself from the “radio station” that she would stumble upon. Because he kept the free concert fable under wraps, Goat Mama thought she discovered something she wasn’t supposed to and when confronting Goat Papa with it, he acted all disappointed that his “surprise” was ruined. She was cackling, pleased to have discovered his secret.

But did she? Mwa ha ha.

Of course, Groom and I were in on it from the beginning, so we managed the appropriate combination of glee, horror and happiness for a convincing response when they told us about their plans of flying to Sin City to become “Fanilows” for an evening.

His mother was also in on the plot. She purchased the spendy Andrea Bocelli tickets using her own credit card so there would be no paper trail for her blood hound of a daughter-in-law to chance upon.

And then there was the inevitable moment when Goat Mama learned that her beloved Bocelli was appearing in Las Vegas, for one night only on the very same evening as the “stupid Manilow concert.” Oh the lamenting. Of course, she had to check into ticket pricing and was even more disappointed to discover that at this late date only the very expensive seating remained (uh, gulp, like $2,000 a piece).

Up to the final minute, when the limousine picked them up from their Luxor Hotel around 7pm this past Saturday evening, December 11, 2010, she still had no clue. As their swanky ride headed toward The MGM Grand Garden Arena, Goat Papa played the offensive and commented how few signs there were advertising the Manilow concert. A little sulkily, she mumbled that it was because he was no big deal anymore. Ouch!

Cuddling in the back seat of the stretch, he handed her a card in which he professed his ever-present love and finally, after months of plotting, planning, close calls and hand wringing, gifted her with the real concert tickets. What, no Barry Alan Pincus Manilow after all? In an instant, her desire became manifest… great seats to hear the blind, enigmatic opera singer, Andrea Bocelli. Oh gracious, the water works. I hope they got flood insurance for the limo.

Of course, we heard about this blow-by-blow as texting is an easy and convenient way to convey quick messages such as “in the limo now.” But we also received a phone call right away, as soon as she had those hot tickets in hand. Phew! So glad the cat’s out of the bag.

Although Andrea has a gorgeous voice, personally, it also would have been fun to hear, “Her name was Lola, she was a show girl with yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there…” on the strip from the man himself.

Whatever your tastes, you can’t argue with love.

Obliga-what?

2010-12-10T11:11:00.000-08:00

A brand new word just floated into my brain from the ethers this week. I always believe (for about 10 seconds) that I made it up, but then, thanks to the power of Google, I’m always amazed that somebody else has thought of it, too. And first.

It’s similar to having one of those vocabulary building calendars that teach you a new word each day, but without any print or paper. More like subscribing to a “Celestial Download” word-of-the-week club. And it’s free!

So, for the teensy span of time, between the fresh word floating down from the sky like a feather and me looking it up online, I feel this excitement of having just invented something new. “Groom,” I say enthusiastically, “I just made up another word!”

“What is it, dear?” he asks faithfully, knowing in a few minutes I’ll lament the fact that my new shiny word is already listed in the Internet dictionary.

In my imagination, before presenting it to him like a gift, a drum roll precedes the fanfare, although I am the only one who can hear it.

“Obligatorium,” I say with a flourish. Sometimes I curtsey.

“That’s a curious one,” he says. “What does it mean, is it a place?”

Oh yeah. Hmmm...good question. I search around in my mind, and it feels like a humorous word, a real yet not real place, kinda like a guilt-trip. It’s an emporium to shop for people on your Christmas list that you really don’t want to buy for, but would cause hurt feelings if you didn’t. “I think I’ll pop down to the Obligatorium and pick up that present for Uncle Pervie and Aunt Gossip.”

It’s the warehouse for all the stuff we have to do, but don’t wanna, the ties that bind, the long hours we put in, anything that has to do with obligations. When I looked it up online, three words defined it: obligation; a bond.

I don’t really have an ending to this entry, but if feels odd to just stop so I’ll mention the photographs. They were taken at the Eugene Holiday Market last Sunday, December 5, 2010. If any of you have curious words to share, we’d love to learn about them. However, we’ve had many people email us or tell us in person that they’ve tried to leave a comment, but some curious technical hitch is in the giddyup and hasn’t allowed it, so don’t get discouraged. Thanks!

Let Them Eat Cupcakes

2010-12-08T10:43:00.000-08:00

The vendor across the way at the Eugene Holiday Market makes these giant cupcakes. Only they are made of candle wax. Lately I feel like I’m burning the cupcake at both ends.

Yesterday, Kimmmm and I went out on a girlie date for her birthday. Coincidentally, she chose a delightful bakery that serves gluten-free, can you guess? Cupcakes! The slender boy behind the counter began his recitation of flavors, but he only got as far as “chocolate lavender,” before both us of said yes at the same time. Jinx.

Unfortunately, he meant two different flavors, one being chocolate and the other lavender. I was momentarily disappointed, my tastebuds excited to try something exotic and new. However, memories of a lavender mousse shared at an outdoor café in Provence, France, inspired me to select the purple cupcake.

This was not a well thought out decision. It looked good. I peeled back the biodegradable paper liner and sank my fangs into the spongy confection. Uh-oh, it tasted exactly like I was biting into my microwavable heat pack.

You see, it’s kind of chilly at our house during the winter, so to keep warm I use a lavender/flax seed filled neck pillow, the scent of which is activated each time I heat it. Experts say smell is the number one access to memory and all I could think of when nibbling my cupcake was that I might be sleep-eating my neck pillow! Yeah, it didn’t taste good to me.

After I tried to scrub my tongue and then wash away the association with a strong cup of coffee, we went to The Bijou to watch Heartbreaker, a French comedy starring Johhny Depp’s wife, Vanessa Paridis.

And as if that little vignette about choosing the wrong cupcake wasn’t enough excitement for one day, here’s a photo or two (or three) of our latest jewelry pieces.

Shodding in The Market

2010-12-01T10:47:00.000-08:00

I’ve always looked at shoes as being immensely beautiful things. – Graham Coxon

Oh goodness, I must be tired. Groom and I started out for a walk and we managed to get part way down the block before he stopped and pointed. “You’re going to wear those?” he asked. I hadn’t even noticed that I was still wearing my pink slippers!

One of the most famous elements of Cinderella is her glass slipper. Part Cinderella myself, I fancy exotic footwear and my camera is often drawn toward the floor to see what others stand on. Los zapatos featured in these photos were all taken at the Eugene Holiday Market last Sunday, November 28th.

The symbolism for shoes includes wisdom and “understanding,” because they are actually under our standing. Shoes represent our foundation, what we stand on, our walk in life, our movement forward and how we carry ourselves.

Of course, their primary function is to protect tender soles (souls?) at the connecting point to the earth. An important part of any spiritual walk is being both connected and grounded, an important balancing act if we want to stay upright in the frenzy of 21st century life.

While it might not be sound advice to make friends simply based on tootsie wraps, shoes do have a way of revealing facets of personality. I wonder what my slippers reveal about me? Whoops, never mind.