Deep in the Heart of Texas

$20 to check baggage.
No free nibbles.
Turbulence.
Chatty Cathy, cut the string!
Love my new neck pillow.
Miles between gates at DFL.
Rain.
I have arrived.

"Did you ever see Dallas from a DC9 at night?"

Torch of Friendship and Hemisfair Tower, San Antonio

So sang Jimmy Dale Gilmore, a true Texas troubadour if there ever was one. I don't think I'll be on a DC9, but I will be flying over Dallas at night when I go down to visit Rosenbeans and take in a bit of Fiesta San Antonio. It's been three years since my last visit, and five since I last went to Fiesta, so I'm quite psyched.

Rosenbeans will be my personal San Antonio Tour Guide (she's a certified professional). We've been working on a spreadsheet for the trip with her suggestions and some of my ideas. I want to take advantage of her expertise and knowledge of All Things San Antonio, so I thought we should do the Texas Star Trail, a 2.6 mile self-guided walk around the historic downtown, starting and ending at the Alamo. We'll take a river taxi from downtown to the San Antonio Museum of Art, where Rosenbeans is a docent, to see an exhibition of psychedelic art. SAMA is housed in a former Lone Star Brewing factory, and nearby, a former Pearl Brewery has been turned into the Pearl Farmers Market -- we'll be checking that out as well.

We've chosen several events from the Fiesta schedule -- some old favorites, including the Fiesta Arts Fair and the River Parade, as well as a couple of new-to-me things, including a Charreada and a tour of a Victorian house.

I'll be taking my mini laptop so that I can blog a few times from Casa Rosenbeans. And I may even be able to upload some photos to Flickr while I'm there. Be watching the internets for more about our adventures.

Cosmic Shift

I know it's not down to global warming or a change in my diet, so it must be that the stars and planets are somehow realigning. For years I've been an avowed non-joiner, but lately I've found myself signing up for activities. Not just any activities, mind you, but ones that involve exercise and/or participating with people I don't (yet) know.

First came the Pilates lessons, and then the hooping classes, which I'm going to keep doing. I've roped another pal into coming to hoop class with me this coming Sunday, and I'm trying to twist the arm of another pal.

The latest is that this week I became a charter member of the Northampton Camera Club. Six people attended the initial meeting of the club, and we agreed to try to meet on a monthly basis to share and critique photos. We may do some assignments that we can work on in between meetings, or we might have some group photo rambles. The whole thing is pretty much TBA at the moment. No one else in the group uses Flickr, so my task is to walk them through the process of getting an account. And I'm to set up a Flickr group for the club.

And if this wasn't enough, I'm thinking of joining an almost-weekly knitting group that meets in one of the downtown Noho pizza parlors. I don't know what's gotten into me with all this joining.

Deep Midwinter

It's cold here. Really, really cold. It would be one thing if we had lots of fluffy, white, snowy loveliness to look at from inside our warm houses, but no. We haven't had a proper snowfall in weeks, and what we've got on the ground is in dirty, frozen blobs at the side of the road. All this cold makes it physically and psychologically hard to do much of anything but watch tv (I'm almost through all of Six Feet Under and am just beginning Season 1 of Glee), knit and play around on the internets. Each night when I settle down on the sofa with my knitting, I ask myself, "What shall it be tonight? A funeral or a musical number?"

I finished my big, warm cardigan a couple weeks ago and then quickly made some yoga/pilates socks for myself. Turns out that they are also the perfect thing to wear to my Hoop Fit and Flow class as they keep me warm and stop me from sliding all over the wooden floor when I'm trying to hoop. The folks at Hooping Harmony had a sale in January on their super bling hoops. I couldn't resist, and bought a birthday prezzie for myself. The hoop and the socks are actually closer in color than this photo would have you think. I might not be the most physically coordinated hooper, but at least I'll be color coordinated.

When I got home from hoop class, I tossed my socks on the bench next to the back door. They landed next to this striped fleece beanie and I realized that the colors are nearly a perfect match. So, back I went to WEBS to buy more yarn for a scarf to wear with the beanie.

This Sunday is the annual Super Bowl Escape at WEBS. All afternoon, knitters who want to get away from football will gather at the store for knitting circles, door prizes and nibbles. I'm looking forward to going with a few of my pals and meeting some other Noho knitters.

I hear that another winter storm is going to slam into the Middle Atlantic states this weekend. Everybody stay warm out there -- or stay in and knit yourself something warm.

Hoops

No, not basketball or rolling barrel hoops with sticks. Hoops as in hula hoops. I recently took my first Hoop Fit and Flow class -- I survived and I'm here to tell you about it.

First, let me put this in context. My first experience with any kind of movement class was a disaster. I was five years old, and my mother signed me up for ballet class. It was soon clear that I was lagging far behind the other five-year-olds and wasn't having any fun. So, after six weeks, the teacher spoke to my mother and counseled me out. Gym class throughout my school years was also a miserable experience. I was a bit smarter about it by the time I got to college, where I completed my PE requirement by taking duck pin bowling and archery, both of which involve eye-hand coordination but not much in the way of gross motor skills or grace.

Fast forward to 2010. Why in the world would I want to take a hoop dance class, you ask? Not knowing if this would turn out to be a good idea or something resembling an I Love Lucy episode, I went to a free demo. I found I was able to do the basic moves without embarrassing myself too much, and I actually liked it. So, I signed up. The classes are taught by Laura Marie and Ariana from Hooping Harmony and are held at The Fix in Northampton, where I take Pilates lessons.

The class was everything they said it would be -- you burn calories, get your heart rate up, gain coordination, build skills and have fun. Of course, I dropped the hoop about a zillion times and, when doing arm and hand stuff, sent it flying across the room. But I was better at it by the end of the class and I didn't hurt myself or break anything. Classes are every other Sunday, from 2 to 3:15. I'm hoping some of my mates will come along and hoop with me. If I can do it, anybody can.

Finishing Just Under the Wire

I didn't start 2009 with any New Year's resolutions. I never do -- it would be an act of utter futility. But I did come into the home stretch of the year with a bunch of things I wanted to finish up. And I did. Here's what I managed to get done since Thanksgiving:

• Finished uploading London photos to Flickr.
• Finished uploading North Carolina photos also.
• Put postal code tags on all the photos in the London Street Names group that were missing said tags.
• Knit three pairs of yoga/pilates socks and about a dozen flower or leaf bookmarks for my pals' crimbo prezzies.
• Entered donations in the donor database of the women's org I volunteer with; exported list for next mailing.

While I don't plan on making any resolutions for 2010, I do have a few ideas floating around in my head of things that I'd like to accomplish in the coming year:

• Get back to working on the heavy sweater I'm knitting and have it done while it's still wicked cold outside.
• Knit a few other things in my Ravelry queue, especially things that will help me to de-stash because it's getting a bit difficult to get into my storage closet with all the bags of yarn from Webs everywhere.
  
• Start some theme threads for the London Street Names group.
• Read the excellent new books that people gave me -- Mrs. Woolf and the Servants, Walking London, Offshore, The Secret Language of Knitters and the London Knowledge card deck called What Happened Here?
  
• Start planning the next trip to wherever.
• Take hoop exercise classes (well, take a class and see if I survive before committing myself to more classes).

Here's wishing the best for 2010 to all my mates. I hope that your wishes come true and that you reach your goals, however modest or grand they may be. And I hope to see many of you in the new year, either in person or on the internets.

My clogged drain and sore ankle

Yup, those things are related. I admit to having had two (small) glasses of wine before embarking on this folly, and I seem to have taken a large dose of stupid. This all happened Monday evening. First, I shoved a bunch of stuff -- broccoli stem peelings, egg shells, coffee grounds and onion peels -- into the garbage disposal. (That was Stupid #1) It seemed to be happily chewing up all this stuff, though, but then I saw that the water was rising in my sink, so I shut the disposal off. I reached into it to feel around to see if there was something stuck -- nada. I got out the little Allen wrench thingie and put it into the hole on the bottom of the disposal -- it turned around just fine. So, I brilliantly thought I should use the plunger. My first attempts were futile -- standing in front of the sink, I couldn't get enough leverage to push the plunger down. I pulled one of the wooden bar stools up to the sink and knelt on that. Still no leverage. Now, here's where Stupid #2 happens: I stood on the bar stool, pushed on the plunger, and I went flying to the floor. I landed with my weight on my right foot before I toppled over onto my side, bruising my elbow and left knee in the process. Much, much arnica and ice later, I'm walking ok but it hurts a little to flex my right foot when I go up or down stairs. Stupid #3 was putting half a bottle of Drano down the disposal. It didn't work. I've called the plumber, and he will be making a house call ($70/hour) tomorrow.

The Little Differences, Part II

My mate Maggie reminded me the other day that it's been a while since I've written about my observations on the differences between the UK and the US. Here are some things I noticed on my recent trip:

• At Heathrow Airport, you can actually buy tasty, healthy, reasonably-priced food to eat as you while away the hours before your plane takes off. In addition to the ubiquitous pre-made sandwiches in triangular boxes (my favorites are egg and cress or tuna and sweet corn on brown bread for about £2.25), you can buy real Greek yogurt with sliced bananas, honey and grape nuts for £1.85. For bevvies, there are various kinds of juice, vitamin water, or coconut water in addition to all the sweet soda crap. When I was in the Minneapolis airport back in May, I walked about a mile down the concourse in search of something edible that wasn't full of sugar, carbs and fat before settling on a pasta and pesto chicken salad that was overpriced and not very good. Similarly, in the Atlanta airport I recently forked over $8 for a Wolfgang Puck turkey and pesto sandwich, also not very tasty and with nearly enough calories to meet my daily requirement. America is seriously in need of better airport food options.
• On the other hand, I couldn't find saline nasal spray in a little squeeze bottle (about $3 at any pharmacy or grocery store in the US) anywhere in London. After my long flight, I landed with my sinuses totally dried out. I wasn't stuffed up and didn't need a decongestant spray. I just wanted to soothe and rehydrate my sinuses and prevent nose bleeds. I went to two Boots stores and spoke to the chemist in each. The only thing they had to offer me was a big can of aerosol stuff for £6.85 -- too much quantity and too much to spend for what I needed. My next stop was Revital, the health food store in Belsize Park. I though surely they'd have something like little packets of salt and a squeeze bottle, but no. The woman there looked at me like I was nuts and finally said, "We don't need that here. It's always humid."
  
• When your mates in the UK greet you, they often ask "Are you alright?" My immediate reaction to this was to think I must have an open wound on my head or look like I was totally stressed out. I then realized that this is shorthand for "How are you doing? Are things going well?" and just replied, "Yes, thanks. I'm having a lovely time."
  

I'm sure I'll think of more little differences and will update this list from time to time.

Firsts

When I was visiting the swamp, I kept reading of various firsts. New Bern lays claim to quite a few, including:

• It was the first permanent seat of the colonial government of North Carolina; later it became the first state capital of NC.
  
• The first printing press in NC was set up there in 1749, and the state's first newspaper published two years later.
  
• The first free public school in North Carolina was established there in 1766.
• It held the country's first celebration of George Washington's birthday.
• The world's first practical torpedo was assembled and detonated there in the 1890s.
• First Jewish synagogue and RC church in North Carolina.
• The Masonic Theater is the oldest theater in America in continuous use.
• Pepsi-Cola was first concocted there in 1898.

Nearby Washington boasts of being the first town in America named after George Washington (when he was just a general and yet to become the first president). And Bath touts itself as North Carolina's first town, first port, and the location of the first public library in the state.

Now I can claim a personal first that took place in New Bern: my first time in a kayak. ScribeGirl told me we'd be taking the kayaks out on Brices Creek, so I came with various bits of gear that I'd need. I usually avoid pursuits that require special gear (and strenuous activity, particularly if it makes you sweat), but I was game to give this a try. So, I took Spooner's advice and bought nylon pants (capris that I got off the half-price end-of-season rack at The Mountain Goat, a shopping trip that took all of 15 minutes) because he says to avoid cotton clothing when boating. ScribeGirl said I'd need waterproof shoes -- not flip-flops because, if the boat flipped over, they would flop off my feet -- so I brought my stylish sling-back Crocs. And knowing of Rosenbeans' various mishaps with electronics landing in the drink when kayaking, I got a super waterproof pouch for my camera. We were out on the creek for about an hour, paddling past trees with Spanish moss waving in the breeze. It was pretty fun, as exercise goes. Perhaps my first time kayaking won't be my last.

NC Backwaters

View NC Backwaters in a larger map

On Sunday, ScribeGirl and I climbed into the big-ass truck and hit the road for a day trip through the cotton fields and low country, visiting three little towns on the water. We passed a lot of interesting rural decay -- houses with porches falling off, barns with roofs caved in, rusty and crusty autos and farm machinery -- but we don't have any photos to show of this stuff. As ScribeGirl pointed out to me, when the house falls apart, the people move into a trailer on the property. So, while the buildings looked abandoned, there were usually people nearby -- and where there are people, there are often hounds and shotguns that we reckoned would make an appearance if a stranger came into the yard. So we stayed in the truck.

We did make stops in three small towns along the water -- Washington and Bath, along the Pamlico River, and Oriental, the sailing capital of North Carolina (and also a commercial fishing harbor). Our plan was to start with a visit to the NC Estuarium in Washington, but unfortunately it was closed. The whole town of Washington looked pretty deserted (was everyone in church?), but we found a cafe that was open and had a leisurely breakfast there before roaming the empty streets in search of photo ops.

Back in the truck, it was a short drive to Bath, another sleepy little backwater town that has a ton of history. Here, the visitor center was closed so we couldn't get a copy of the self-guided walking tour, but there are historic markers everywhere to point out the 18th century houses and church. The town is only three blocks long and two blocks wide, so we probably saw most of what there was to see.

Our next stop was Oriental, a lovely little town further down the coast. There we found The Bean Cafe, which had good ice cream and free wifi. Friendly townsfolk greeted us as we walked onto the porch of The Bean and, since this is the South where the livin' is easy, no one rushed us out of the cafe or limited our time on their wifi. In the fading afternoon light, we explored the fishing docks and found some excellent photo ops before heading back to New Bern (photo by ScribeGirl):


BTW, ScribeGirl has started a blog called Croatan Chronicles, which she promises to fill with tales of her relocation to the flatland of eastern North Carolina.