Easter

I hosted Easter at my place again this year, with 15 people all told. We were on borrowed chairs and floor cushions as well as my normal accoutrement of stools and chairs, clumped around cobbled-together tables. It was a blast.

Jee brought some eggs she'd hand-dyed with organic dyes; I'm glad I checked with her about whether they were primarily for eating or decoration. Turns out they're hard-boiled and very much needed to be refrigerated. To save space, I put them in with my 3 regular eggs:

Although I have to admit their original "nest" was pretty cool:

I decorated the mantel with care, but I knew the Easter Bunny was not going to make it down the chimney this year. The eggs in this picture were a gift from my mom many years ago; let's just say, these eggs are purely decorative. She blew them out while they were raw, then glued fabric on them. Pretty darn cool. She also made the fabric -- and slightly cubist -- bunny rabbit on the left.

What I didn't realize until well into the evening was that my Easter Island heads were actually rather appropriate to the occasion as well! Here's another closeup of eggy gifts from my mom:

This was a gift from Seth many moons ago, on his return from New Zealand. He had insisted on meeting me for lunch the day after he got back -- but was so jetlagged that he was an hour late! The waiter gave him heck for it, which I thought was awfully sweet. I also liked the sheep (even though we didn't have lamb this year).

The menu was Cuban ropa vieja (traditional beef recipe from Oprah's magazine O, but I threw in a sweet potato as well just for kicks), chicken ropa vieja (from allrecipes. com), and chickpea masala (also from O). People loved the beef dish, but only the chickpea masala dish was finished up. Then again, I did cook 7 pounds of meat - there was no way my guests were finishing all that in one evening!

U-chan and E-san lingered after everyone else had gone, and it felt like the party was just beginning! It's so good to spend time with friends.

Hamlet

Of my two live operas this season, I definitely preferred tonight's Hamlet.

I have to confess I'd lazily assumed it was a Verdi opera (heck, he wrote Macbeth, Otello, and Falstaff - all of which I love), but it was by a French composer, Ambroise Thomas. Oops.

It was lovely - powerful performances, enough drama to make up for the discomfort of the nosebleed seats.*

The women (Gertrude and Ophélie) were especially good. The role of Ophélie was originally to be played by Natalie Dessay, whom I'd seen in Lucia di Lammermoor, and that was one of the reasons I chose this opera. Her replacement, Marlis Petersen, was amazing as well.

I might sèche mon cours on April 24 to see this again in the movies.

FN* After the pleasure of watching the simulcast of Carmen at BAM -- such comfortable seats! such a great view, with no one blocking me! and backstage interviews w/ Renée Fleming! -- it's even harder to put up with the rather painful Family Circle option. I now suspect it's the intense physical discomfort from the ergonomically-incorrect seats, compounded by the strain of trying to see the distant stage around or over the person in front of me, that has caused me to get so drowsy when I see operas in the Family Circle.

Stations of the Cross

We have stations of the cross every day in New York City, most notably during rush hour. There's always someone cranky on the platform, trying to shove their way into a crowded train when they're already late for work. And people running pell-mell down the stairs and sprinting up to the closing doors, which then slam in their face as the train pulls away.

But this is Holy Week, so let's talk about stations of the Cross. This is a little different. The path from Pilate to the crucifixion itself has been broken down into XII steps, set up as XII separate stations for people to stop and engage their sense of touch as they meditate and pray on the sins, suffering, and grace on that path.

You start at Station I, with a bowl of water and a small towel to give a sense of Pilate washing his hands of the matter as he handed an innocent man over to suffering and death. Later, you touch rough sand and stones as Jesus falls for the first time when carrying the heavy load. At another point, you can hold (and take as a souvenir) a small metallic cross which is quite light -- no comparison with the real thing -- but is a trigger for the mantra "May I carry your cross?" At alternative stations, we are to pray the Lord's prayer. Station XII is a picture of Jesus dying on the cross, and we are asked to think again about the sacrifice.

I went through the stations rather quickly and quietly so that I would be done before the hordes came in. Even so, I was able to get a sense of how powerful this experience is. Next year I'll just go as a worshiper and take my time on each station. I almost want to create my own stations - there should be wood and thorns as well, I think.

My Very Own Indoor Wading Pool

Yesterday I awoke at 3 a.m. to the sound of an intense rainfall seemingly all around me. From the sound of it, it was raining on my ceiling and in my walls. I got to the lightswitch just in time to see water streaming out of the electrical outlet in one of my internal walls. It eventually stopped, and it dried quickly, so I went back to bed.

An hour later, the adventure repeated. This time, I thought to take pictures and video with sound. I wanted the plumbers (or whoever) to understand what had happened. Now there was also water seeping through the top of the wall at the ceiling in three locations.

When it seemed to be slowing or even stopping, I grabbed some bedding and went to snooze on the couch in the wonderfully dry and quiet living room. Instead, there was a knock on my door. My downstair neighbor wanted me to come look at the water streaming down her walls. I told her it wasn't necessary; I had my own interior rainstorm, thank you very much. So she came in and looked at mine.

I let my upstairs neighbor sleep in until 8:15 a.m., then I went up to make sure he knew about this (his bedroom is on the opposite side, so he might not be aware until he went in to make coffee). I imagined the worst - skylights broken, buckets around to catch the drips, pools - but his apartment was A-OK. Great.

All day at work, I waited to hear when the contractor could be there. Finally heard at 5 pm that he'd be here today at 8 am. I worried that maybe I'd made a big deal over nothing -- it could have been a one-time thing due to the unusually intense rainfall.

This morning at 4 am, it sounded like water was simply pouring through my interior wall. I got up and checked the floor - just a small stream, like yesterday. No biggie. Tried to go back to sleep. Around 5:30 or so, I got up and checked the guest room. Uh oh. I had my very own wading pool.

Since then: Mop and bail. Throw down old sheets and towels until they are supersaturated. Despair as the rain shows no signs of letting up, and the water keeps gushing through. Talk to neighbors. Repeat.

Around 7:30, however, although the rain continued, the gushing stopped. Hallelujah! I was able to remove the pool, and start draining my sheets and towels in the bathtub. Turns out my ground-floor neighbor's room was flooded, and he thought of a clever stop-gap solution. Literally: he stopped up the gap.

Now we are just waiting for the contractor. If he can fix this quickly and permanently, he will be the most popular person in the building.

Palm Sunday

I was genuinely moved by the anthem that preceded the litany of parting at today's service: "Hosanna to Our Savior King," by Sondra Tucker. We had a combined choir of children and grownups; the grownups were able to sing in counterparts, which I love. The adults did one stanza a cappella, which was lovely, and the children did a good job on their stanza as well. Then, toward the end of the piece, a handful of the soprano voices suddenly soared up with full power -- a genuinely thrilling moment. Then they did it again. I almost gasped, it was so beautiful. In general, I prefer not to applaud during a worship service (it's not entertainment), but it's nice to make an exception for the kids -- and even more so when I'm moved nearly to tears.

We had a nicely secular Easter party at the church yesterday for about 25 kids from the Bronx (ages 4-13 or so), culminating in an Easter egg hunt in the sanctuary. The bouncing castle was a big hit, of course, but the sleeper hit was a bunny-themed hopscotch game. The kids got such a kick out of doing it; or at least they did while I was there to call out the jumps as they made them and praise them for their various techniques. I'm inclined to think that the greatest gift we gave these kids was not the free trip to Manhattan, or the abundant fresh fruit (they LOVED the grapes, but left the apples), or even the crafts and games, candy, chicken nuggets, etc., but rather the opportunity for one-on-one attention and praise that they may or may not get on a regular basis in their daily lives.

This is also the secret, I think, behind the PowerLunch reading program. My reading buddy is so happy when I rearrange my schedule so that we don't have to miss a week. Or when I take a taxi to get there after missing the bus. These things say to her, more clearly than any words, that she is important. Which she is. She's a smart, sweet kid, not perfect, but she's still finding her way. Aren't we all?

One more thing that's been on my mind this week: I was unfortunately right about Z. If our friendship is not dead, it's at least unconscious and bleeding. I need to listen to those small misgivings rather than subjecting them to rational analysis. Most people just aren't that rational; we're massive bundles of sensitivity wrapped in a thin veneer of self-confidence.

The bad news is that I find it difficult to keep more than 2 or 3 people in my prayers, but the good news is that I mostly have been keeping them in my prayers. Always the same 2 or 3, for the last few weeks. In all honesty, my prayer muscles (like my physical muscles) are flabby from under-use. None of this is easy. I feel like if I start exercising more - and praying more - and getting rid of a lot of extra unneeded stuff - I will regain a lot of energy. It's the small daily disciplines, perhaps, that make life worth living. (Quadrant II for you Steven Covey buffs.) So why are they so hard?

Spring Skiing

It was 8 hours from Manhattan by bus & car to a ski resort in New England this weekend. (Not really the fastest way to get there, but I didn't want to drive the whole way.) I was open to the possibility of skiing, but wasn't really expecting to ski -- I brought ski clothes & goggles just in case the conditions were super-tempting, but did not bring my skis or ski boots. It turns out there was plenty of mud and grainy snow, but the grooming machines were working hard to redistribute huge mounds of snow across the slopes. My dad felt they were pretty successful.

My nieces went skiing on Saturday and Sunday. Lee apparently is confident on her favorite green slope, but is not taking any chances on the blue slopes. (I think my dad is kicking himself for teaching her the color scheme.) They both had fun scrambling around in the snow on the edges of the ski slope before their second tour de ski.

Clara climbing up:

Lee sliding down:

The one day that really would have been nice was Saturday, with spectacular sunshine and temps in the 60s, but we arrived too late to take a run. Sunday and Monday were much cooler and overcast -- that didn't really make me want to rent skis or buy a lift ticket.

Lee posing:

It was good to get away from the city and relax a bit. I'd have liked to do a bit more hiking, but it was good at least to lose a few games of Scrabble and Mille Bornes, enjoy some delicious home-cooked food and nice conversation. I also managed to buy a pair of snow pants -- after 10+ years of not finding any snow pants that fit me, I found 2 pairs that fit. I bought the cheaper pair (on sale for $70) although it was a bit looser than the other.

Weekend at Killington

I went with about 14 NEXT Ministries folks to Killington, VT for the weekend. We had spectacular sunshine, decent snow (except for the spring slush at the bottom of slopes on certain faces of the mountain) and good company. It was a high-spirited group, with many different skill levels represented. We played games, enjoyed delicious baked ziti and lots of junk food, and were very merry. One of the ringleaders somehow dragooned us all into going out dancing Saturday night; my theory is that his in-house karaoke/dance performance didn't offer him a sufficient audience. Although the outbound trip involved an inauspicious encounter with an obnoxious BMW driver and stop-and-go traffic all the way to the GW Bridge, the return trip was enlivened only by a stop at P.F. Chang's - the curried lamb was really good - and I was home by 10:30. Calves sore, but happy.

Sanibel Videos

Dolphin:




Turtle Moves head:



Turtle Walks:

Spring Break Redux

OK, so it's not really spring break; it's still winter. And none of us had off from school (in fact, most of us are not even in school). But still.

Day 1

Before I realized my camera batteries were running low, I took some pictures from the plane. (Contrary to my preference, I had a window seat; so why not take advantage?) I liked the way this one came out:

Day 2:

After dinner, we went for a walk on the beach:

Of course, when small children are involved, there is no such thing as a quiet walk on the beach. Everything becomes a game of "Chase me!" (at nightfall) or "Come see what I found!" (in daylight):

Though the weather was unseasonably cool, with some threat of rain, this resulted in spectacular skies:

Day 3

I went skating solo in the morning, with the chance to listen to the new mix of songs on my new iPod (it's got a lot more memory) and saw two immature ibises and an immature anhinga or cormorant.

Later we went to the pool. C loves the water, but she is still learning to swim. What she was doing in the pool made me think almost of a reverse evolution (rather than a water creature using its fins to learn to walk on land, we have here a land creature using its arms to learn to walk in water):

In the afternoon some of us went for a small bike ride. This bird was just hanging out in the little pond in someone's front yard, near several turtles.

On the bike path behind Rabbit Road, we saw this alligator, though the jury's still out as to whether it's real or not. It was not in the water, but instead at the top of a hill near some houses, and we didn't see it move - and unfortunately could not see its eyes (which might have given the game away).

C found a shell at the library; this one is definitely fake:

Day 4

This morning three of us went bright and early to the Ding Darling Wildlife Refuge. We forked over $1 each to bike through. We were lucky enough to meet up with a USF&W person at the first big viewing point. She was cataloging the red knots who were passing through, but she let us look through her high-powered scope and told us about some of the birds we were seeing. (She had been using the scope to read the green tags on the legs of some red knots who were passing through.) She told us about the tide control in the refuge (they're keeping the water on the left side of the drive at low tide right now for the migrating birds), and mentioned that -- unlike flamingoes -- the coloring of the roseate spoonbills is genetically determined (reflecting age rather than diet). In this area, we saw three roseate spoonbills at different stages of development. I liked this one:

The one on the left is apparently the youngest of the three:

One of my all-time favorite plants, the mangrove:

We again ran into an inter-species gathering of white birds, squawking up a storm and in constant motion. A few still photos may help give a sense of the commotion:

By the cross-dike area, it was a lot more contemplative:

Brown pelican in the tree:

Here, we had the pink and black (more roseates, but perhaps with cormorants among them - I couldn't quite tell what the black birds were):

A fisherman landed this fish as his first catch of the day...

But I found myself asking, who watches the bird-watchers? There were quite a few people -- all men, I believe -- with some pretty serious cameras, waiting for the perfect shot. The hunting instinct never entirely dies, does it? They're just shooting the birds with film or pixels now.

I kept looking for alligators in all the ditches along Wildlife Drive, especially toward the end where we've often seen them before. Didn't see any this time, but I loved this reflection of sun & clouds:

Things only got better when we got to the beach later on. There was a dolphin close to shore, which even rushed at us for a bit, apparently hunting. Plus we saw some stingrays - if you look closely, you may see the tips of the rays' fins sticking up on the left side of this photo:

L and C were enthralled with the rays, the dolphin, the sunshine & the warmth (the hottest day so far) and had a great time:

Afterward, a multi-tasking Yahtzee player is able to accommodate two girls during a fiercely contested game:
Yahtzee was not part of my childhood growing up, but it was part of R's childhood, and L absolutely loves it (especially when she rolls five of a kind!). The game is very individualistic, in the sense that each person depends on his/her own luck and skill, and opponents cannot interfere with one's chosen strategy. But it also seems to be educational, and I see that L is practicing addition and getting a sense of probabilities. It's cool to see that although L is naturally disappointed when she doesn't do well, she is showing good sportsmanship and actively wishing other players well.

Day 5

This turtle was in the bike path. His face made me think of the tin man from Wizard of Oz:

5 a.m. Farewell

Didn't get to take a picture on the spiral staircase, but I snapped two parting shots. Let's just say we were all deeply tired, but alert and watchful:

Still have videos to upload, those will have to await another time. It was so good to be in Florida again; just to be in one another's presence and have time to enjoy skating, biking, and relaxing, to read Narnia stories and the Hobbit out loud (or listen to other grown-ups reading them!), to observe the interactions and see how much the girls have progressed. I'm so proud of everyone. And I just love that C spontaneously counts in French from time to time -- even though L is the one taking lessons.

Brooklyn Botanic Garden

Another magical visit (and my eighth post on the garden so far). There was green in the park, along with the stark black and white -- rhododendrons and bamboo, in addition to the various pines. Also ivy; it was climbing up on the southern exposure of tree trunks, which is the sunnier side. The north side was not only bare of ivy but usually had snow that the sun's rays had not managed to reach. It almost looked as if the ivy and snow were battling for control of the trunk, each trying to creep around to the other's turf.

A few tracks in the cherry orchard, with a little snowman:

Rising above the gate to the Japanese hill-and-pond garden:

The frozen pond:

The color coordinated sign says "DANGER THIN ICE" - but I suppose it's ok for those who can walk on water:

I liked these backlit:

Can these be the first spring buds? Surely it's too early and too cold for that!

I thought my picture-taking was all done, but then I saw this sculpture-like tree: