Winners and losers: It's not just about March Madness

Oh dear.

Contests may be few and far between on this here blog.

I discovered this weekend that I am a BAD judge.

I just wanted to give everyone a prize for even caring enough to write a comment.

See how much I love you?

Co-dependent, more likely.

Anyway, here are the entries.

A couple of people wrote captions for this photo, even though I didn't ask for it.

Bonus points!

Ellen wrote: "I'm sure Timon never had Mondays like this..."

And Nicole (or her husband Max) suggested: "Praise peanuts! Hallelujah!"

Which took me a while to get, but then, aha, he does look a little prostrately worshipping!

Supposing that meerkats eat peanuts....

And now for the real competition.

Ellen: "What does a meerkat have to do to get a decent manicure around here?"

Lindsay, who is never short of a witty comment: "Dang, I'd make one SEXY stole..." and "Whoever wrote 'Muskrat Love' never snuggled with a meerkat..."

Lindsay earned extra points for even knowing the song "Muskrat Love", which was one of my fave 70's songs.

Lisa, being a bit of an overachiever: . . . between a rock and two furballs . . .

Are you freakin' kidding me?
But Mom, I couldn't find the nailclippers!
Is that dessert you have there?

I think she was looking for extra points on that last one!

Nicole (Max): "Your hide would make a fine poncho."

And Jenny the Pirate: I hear there's a casting call for Les Mis! I am Jean Valjean!

Jenny gets extra points for managing to slip in a little French reference.

And, finally, the real extra point candidate, the Three Lemurs.

Ellen, of course.

Being just a tad competitive.

"Davey, Davey Crocket. King of the wild frontier....wait, what?"

BTW, Ellen, Crockett has two "t's". 

Just thought you'd like to know.

Well, it's a tough one, but I have to go with the captions that elicited actual belly laughs.

Maybe Ellen and I have spent too much time together, because it is she. 

Plus, you know, all the extra points.

Now, for all of you, um, losers, just remember this:

In the words of Casey Stengel, American baseball icon,  Without losers, where would the winners be?

And, as Christopher D. Furman (who, as far as I can tell, is only famous for this quote) wrote, If you want to be a winner, hang around with winners.

So, I'll catch you all later, over at Ellen's place! 

Oh, except then we'll be hanging out with losers.

Hmmmm. How does that work?

I probably should be quiet now.

We're going to the zoo, zoo, zoo, How about you, you, you?

Shortly after we arrived at the zoo on Saturday, we were lucky enough to catch a Close Encounters show at the Wild Wonders Outdoor Stage. 

An outdoor stage with a roof over the seating area.

This is the Pacific Northwest, after all!

First was Tilly the aardvark, who has no doubt already endeared you to her charms.

Then there was a bald eagle, a kookaburra (yes, really, and she laughed on demand), a clever dog named Herall, and Stella the hornbill.

Stella played fetch with the zookeeper and was all kinds of cute.

I love this kind of an animal show, laid back and humourous. 

Dang. British spelling is starting to look erroneous to me. What shall I do?

PDZ&A is a very hands-on zoo. Tilly the aardvark goes for regular walks around the zoo, meeting the patrons, as do many of the other animals who have been raised by and imprinted on humans.

The aquarium has a few glorious sights. 

One of the sea otters lay with this thing on its stomach the whole time I stood and watched. The other otters were active and playful, but this one just lay there, grooming its face and catching the few watery rays that beamed down from the sky. It looked perfectly content, but I was a bit worried about the disc thing. It seemed to be resting heavily on the stomach of the otter; you can see the imprint in its fur.

Very strange.

I was determined to outlast the otter and see what happened when it decided to swim away, but alas, the otter was the better man of us two. 

Or woman.

Whatever.

Outdone by an otter.

The lemurs were in the children's section. As we were leaving I caught this shot of them snoozing with their tails wrapped around them.
Another caption-worthy photo?
Maybe some extra points?

We closed down the zoo (literally) and went to visit some old friends who live close by. Brett and Jeannine  were really friends of Bethany and Chris but we kind of adopted them and they are part of many fond family memories. They have three cute little girls now and are forging their way in the world with gusto. They treated us to dinner at Steamers, which is almost worth the three-hour drive all on its own. I can't resist posting this photo of their two oldest girls. 

Little peas in a pod.

And then we went home.

Meerkat love

I'm in a baking mood.

And I'm killing myself running again.

Belly fat + running = people laughing at you when you run.
I'm not kidding. It really happened.

So, let me bake for YOU.

On Saturday, we went to one of my favourite zoos, Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium.

I took the kids there several times when they were young and it turns out Jeff never went with us. So, you know me, any excuse for a trip to a zoo!

Hence, the aardvark.

And now, the meerkats.

There is an awesome children's section where you can sit and watch the meerkats' antics to your heart's content.

Unless you are accompanied by your restless husband.

Some of my favourite shots:

I saved the best for last.

I just know that somewhere in that last picture is a funny caption.

But I'm very bad at thinking up funny captions.

So, whoever makes me laugh the hardest will win a batch of something delicious.

I'll give you till Friday midnight.

If the winner lives in the US I will deliver or mail it.

If the winner lives in New Zealand, hand delivery will occur in April.

For my lovely English readers, and that strange fellow in Doha (just in case he reads it) I guess you would have to settle for notoriety. No, come to think of it, I should be in England by autumn. But Mark might have to come see me again.

Game on.

House of glass

Our house is made of glass...and our lives are made of glass; and there is nothing we can do to protect ourselves. Joyce Carol Oates.

Well, don't pay too much attention to that; I gave up reading JCO's novels a few months ago. They are beautifully written but she is too gloomy by far. 

I've wanted to visit the Tacoma Glass Museum for several years.

Boom! Another one off the Bucket List.

We stopped in on the way to our hotel on Friday. After figuring out our free parking and the free light rail, we rode to the 19th and Pacific stop and this is what we saw.

We crossed the street between Union Station and the State History Museum...

...and walked onto the Bridge of Glass.

This was designed by Dale Chihuly, the father of modern glass art, and contains many of his works. Chihuly has an instantly recognizable style and has been a leader in the American glass art scene for decades. He learned the team approach to glass-blowing while on a Fulbright Scholarship in Venice in the 60's and subsequently adopted it as his own. Chihuly directs his assembled team in the creative aspects of the glass-blowing and makes the ultimate decision on whether or not the finished piece is a "keeper". I assume that this approach is what enables his prolific output.

This suspension bridge is off to the right. It was a grey day still, so difficult to get an inspiring photo, but it is an imposing structure.

As you walk under the covered area, your eyes are drawn upwards and you immediately start to look like a dork. You cannot look away from all the luscious colours and sensuous shapes of the Chihuly glass, which is perched tantalizingly on top of the glass ceiling.

I'm thinking, a few million dollars of glass art in this here covered bridge.

Seriously.

I could have stayed in there, walking to and fro with my head tipped back, for a long time, but, you know, Jeff was with me.

Yes, there he is, moving impatiently ahead.

Meanwhile, I'm still under cover, gazing at the ceiling.

Glorious, isn't it?

Then, on to the next section which has glass displayed in cases on each side.

There is something about glass that is very tactile. I have to touch it to get a complete sense of its beauty. These enclosed cases drove me nuts!

There are several art installations on the grounds of the museum.

This is Water Forest, by Howard Ben Tre.

Fluent Steps, by Martin Blank, contains 754 individually sculpted pieces of glass. I love the fluid motion of the sculpture as a whole and the ethereal transparency of the individual pieces.

Phew. 

There's my fancy-shmancy art review for the day.

We paid our admission for the museum.

I was less than impressed with most of it, with a couple of exceptions.

Glimmering Gone is a collaboration between two artists, one in the US and one in Sweden. It is quite gorgeous and innovative. 

The Hot Shop, which is inside the cone in the photos, was interesting. You can watch visiting artists actually blow and form glass pieces. 

No photos allowed, anywhere in the museum.

You can imagine how I felt about that!

Much of the art is very avant garde and a little too weird for my taste. 

Peculiar, even.

I prefer my art to be beautiful rather than interesting.

Plus, it really puts me off when I read artists' pseudo-intellectual comments on their own work, as if it contained answers to life's greatest questions. Phrases like "central to the human condition" and "silent internal dialogue" just leave me cold. I want to tell them to get over themselves.

Sorry if I upset anyone with that opinion. In many ways, I am too pragmatic for my own good.

My recommendation on the Glass Museum, unless you're dying to visit the Hot Shop, is to save your money and soak in the free sights outside.

Just down the terraced steps from the museum is a shop that sells works from many of the artists who are displayed in the museum. 

Like this piece.

Gorgeous.

Jeff and I decided this artist must be quite popular, because the price tag....wowee!

I would have bought at least one smaller piece of glass, but Jeff was giving me no encouragement, so out we went again. The shop is worth a visit. I preferred it to the museum.

UP the steps again, where we got the other side of Union Station. 

What a grand building.

I will leave you with this.

I don't know the name of the sculpture.

But I LOVE IT!

Had we been in a more adventurous mood, we would have checked out Union Station (where it looked like some more glass resided) and the history museum.
But it was starting to rain and we were chilly and tired.
So we went on to the next hotel.
Towne Suites, by Marriott.
Functional but uninspired.
The feather pillows, however, were to die for.

Tomorrow, a contest.

Thirty-one years and counting

I know you're all dying of anticipation, wondering what we did for our anniversary.

Thirty-one years.

Sometimes, it seems like an eternity.

Sometimes, only yesterday.

Nah, I'm kidding.

I can actually hardly remember life before Jeff, although every time I go to New Zealand it all comes back to me. In a good way.

So, here's the scoop. 

In excruciating detail.

I planned a long weekend, with the first night being spent in a luxury boutique hotel in Portland: the Hotel Monaco, which was 5th Avenue Suites Hotel until several years ago, when it was transformed into its present state. I found a half-price deal on Travelzoo, which included a continental breakfast but not, unfortunately, free parking.

Let me just say that I do not pay $33 a night for parking. Ever.

We parked in the Smart Park facility a few blocks away, which ended up being $13 for the night, which is within my comfort zone. It was a little inconvenient when we forgot to bring our toilet kit into the hotel, but Jeff just popped out in the morning to get it.

I was delighted by this fellow playing the beat buckets just outside the parking structure.

I put a couple of dollars in his tip bucket and asked him if I could take his picture.

He, in turn, was delighted by the suggestion.

The interior decor is an exotic mix of Anglo-Chinois influences.

Whatever that means.

All I know is that this bed with its soft linens and down comforter was incredibly comfortable and, more to the point, so was my pillow.

Because, wouldn't you know, I forgot mine.

But I didn't forget my camera!

One could request a goldfish for one's room.

Of course I did.

Why did you even have to ask?

His name is Gillis.

I said so.

Animal print robes are there for the wearing, but we didn't bother. 

They were stiff and unappealing.

But aren't they exotic?

Would someone tell me why these higher-end hotels feel compelled to place a nice large refreshing-looking bottle of water by the side of the bed?

With a sign on it that say "$5"?

It is one of my nightmares that one day I won't see the outrageous price tag and I'll drink it.

Ack!

And this sweet bear that was sitting on the bed, with a $35 price tag.

Oh, I forgot to mention, we watched True Grit on the way into Portland. 

Fantastic acting, but some of the gruesome scenes are etched into my brain for evermore.

And the ending was crap.

So, if you're at all impressionable, like me, give it a miss.

Jon said, What did you expect from the Coen brothers?

Friday morning after breakfast, we headed up into the West Hills to the Japanese Gardens. The gardens have been almost fifty years in the making and it shows. Every view is gorgeous.

Once again, too many photos, so hopefully you won't be bored by this slideshow. I recommend watching it on full screen, but let it preload some before pressing the play button.

It was beautiful even though the day was grey.

I love the graceful shapes of the bare tree branches.

Because it was such a dismal day, I had to boost the colour and contrast quite a bit on most of the photos. They were very flat and almost monochromatic in their raw state. I'd love any constructive comments from you awesome photographers out there. My little camera is fairly limited in its capabilities, but maybe some pointers on editing?

Tomorrow, the Chihuly Glass Museum in Tacoma.

A is for Aardvark

And this...

...and this...

...and this...

...and this...

...and this...

...is why I want one!

Well. Mebbe not quite the end.

A few remaining thoughts about Haiti.

I find myself, when people ask So. How was your trip? feeling a little conflicted.
I search my prodigious vocabulary for the appropriate adjectives.
And none come to mind, so I use a few lame, generic ones like Awesome, Amazing, Great.
And then I feel as filled with angst as I have ever been, because I spent a wonderful week in Haiti.
And then I got to come home.
While the Haitian people, who this was all about, have to stay there, with all of the poverty and hunger and ignorance and disease and corruption and crime that was there  before.
So then I am sad.

Let me tell you a few things that I learned, although I don't claim to have any answers.
The Haitian people are beaten down. Many of them are trying to better their lives, but so many factors are working against them. The earthquake and hurricanes just make a complicated situation worse.
Most Haitians see foreigners as a way to get something. I mentioned in an earlier post that any interaction with a Haitian will usually include, at some point, a request for something.
Let me tell you a story.

Late one afternoon, I decided to move the pile of topsoil that was in the vegetable garden over to a different area so that we could plant in the vacated space. I started filling up the wheelbarrow and lugging it to the other side of the yard. After a few trips, Junior, Jason's son, came over and helped me. I shoveled, he lugged. We had a lot of fun, laughing at each other and he teaching me the exact pronunciation of sa bon and a few other necessary Creole phrases. Creole is mostly a spoken language and Haitians are very picky about the pronunciation. I thought to myself How nice that he came to help.


About two thirds of the way through that pile of dirt, Junior started saying laptop and making typing actions with his fingers. I wasn't quite sure why he was saying it, so after a minute or so he gave up and we got back to work. A little while later, Lucien came over to talk to him and I asked Lucien to ask him why he was talking about a laptop. Lucien and Junior has a short conversation, in which I was not included, and that was it. I was none the wiser and we carried on and finished the job.

The next day, it dawned on me that Junior was asking me for a laptop and that Lucien probably read him the riot act for doing so. I was disappointed that there was more to Junior's kind act than met the eye. It wasn't the last time that I would be hit up for supplies by our Haitian workers, even though they live in a veritable lap of luxury compared to most people in the area.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about this problem. On the one hand, I understand why they do it. Their problems seem to be insurmountable; the fact is, there is no other way for them to get certain things. The clinic has to have almost all of their supplies sent from the US. Everything is expensive, from food to conveniences like toilet paper ($2 a roll), but many needed items are just not available for sale in Haiti. On the other hand, it does no good in the long run to just give handouts, because it intensifies their dependence.

So here's what I think.
Haiti is a beautiful country, in spite of the strife that has been visited on its mountains by natives and foreigners alike. Some of the best people in the world are in Haiti. People like those who are working at MamaBabyHaiti and Mercy Corps, who have long-term strategies to help the Haitian people towards financial independence. Please read Doctor Sarah's latest blog post here. If you have loved reading about MamaBabyHaiti, would you take a few minutes and go here to donate to the cause? Mercy Corps is also doing good work in the south part of Haiti and you can donate to them here. It doesn't have to be a large amount to make a difference, if we do it together.

Also, if you blog, I would love it if you could somehow pass this along. Feel free to copy any of my content on the topic. My contribution in Haiti was tiny, but together we could become a formidable force for good.
So that, someday, all of the babies in Haiti will be as fat and happy as Carjioly.

Thank you.

And don't forget the like button.