Off to the Glaciers

We're leaving tomorrow for Seattle, where we're going to board a cruise ship and sail to Alaska.  Or that odd strip of Alaska that seems like it should be part of Canada, where Juneau is, except we're not going there.    The Inside Passage, various glaciers, fjords, and small towns is where we're headed.

Here's my suitcase (yes, another new one!):

This replaces my Ross roller bag, which lost its handle on our recent trip.  Never again.

I'm packed.  Jerry is not:

 

Note the butterfly net, book on baseball, and Dramamine, everything you need for a cruise.

Here's the suitcase my sister and I found in our Aunt Phyllis's apartment when we cleaned it out after she died:

 

You have to carry it.   That seemed quaint until I realized I didn't own a suitcase with wheels until 2006.  How did we do it?

I'll be posting here while I'm away, if you want to see what we're up to.

Mabry Rides to the Rescue and Other Thoughts

Cheerful, helpful, and without graph paper

After hitting the wall on my current quilt (no pun), I put in a call to Mabry, who makes beautiful, complicated quilts.   Could she come over and trouble-shoot?

"Sure," she said.  Pause.   "Do you have any graph paper?"

Aaargh!  For 15 years, I've avoided graph paper--don't own any, don't want to know.  This is how serious quilters, adventurous technicians in my eyes, work out constructing a quilt, making a plan, cutting out pieces to scale and working out how to sew them together.

Simple strips are my friend

I deal with triangles, squares, strips, and rectangles in simple patterns.  Let the fabric provide the interest and complexity is my motto.  I've never, ever made a quilt that required graph paper.

When Mabry showed up on Saturday morning, she'd forgotten the graph paper.  No problem, because after she took a look at the quilt, she confirmed what I'd already thought:  I'm going to have to wing it.  Choose some consistent points to line up when sewing squares together, and take it from there.

I'd been a bit too rigid trying to come up with a consistent MO.  Yes, "rigid" was the word that came up.

I proceeded.  Have now sewn one vertical row.

                                                                                 -2-

After we nailed own the quilt problem, Mabry and I talked about travel.  She's just come back from southwestern France, which she loves, and Paris.  Compared notes.  Told her about Switzerland. Scribbled things down.

After she left,  I turned on NPR to quilt by and listened to back-to-back programs on climate change, how Bill

Guilt-inducing oil burner

McKibben, the writer, charges his electric car from solar panels on his house, and I began to hang my head.  Cruise ships, like the one we're about to take to Alaska, burn a lot of oil.  So do planes.

 I strode into Jerry's study and announced that there'd no more travel.  We have to get solar panels and two electric cars.  He looked bemused.

Not to be, I think

I thought about living micro rather than macro. Do I really need to see the Norwegian fjords?  Cutting back travel may be one of the necessary limits of life in the 21st century.  There's plenty to see around the Bay Area.  We could take public transportation to the Oakland Museum that very afternoon to see the newly renovated Natural History Gallery.

But of course, we didn't. 

                                                                                   -3-

We loved the new Natural History Gallery.

Part of the exhibit about the Cordell Bank, a marine sanctuary off the California coast (more inspiration for current quilt project)

Even Jerry liked it, and  he was a good friend of the man who planned the first version of that gallery, in the 1960's.  The lay-out's been changed--it's an updated, less rigidly organized (that word again) format that focuses on seven areas of the state, including Oakland, and their habitats and the problems that humankind has caused in each.

It invites a friendly wander.  I especially liked the ersatz cabin in Yosemite--the actually room is full of landscape paintings of Yosemite, the porch furnished with rustic rocking chairs and tables with iPads full of information.

Some of the original display cases are still there, left from when they illustrated the transect of California from the earlier version of the Gallery, and so is one of the dioramas, of Ruby Lake, in the Sierra.  Jerry remembers when that location was a favorite lunch spot for entomologists doing fieldwork, among them Don MacNeill, his friend who hired by the OM to design the original Gallery.

Display cases from the former incarnation of the Gallery

                                                                                 -4-

A few hours later when we happened to turn on the TV, I was shocked to hear the verdict in the Trayvon Martin case.    I expected at least a manslaughter verdict,  although given Florida's hunting-license-type stand-your-ground laws, maybe the jury had no choice.

It breaks my heart that Martin had Skittles and a soft drink with him; he'd just made a run to a convenience store for treats.   What's the future for some many of the adorable African American boy toddlers I see at the Berkeley Food Pantry?

                                                                                  -5-

On similar note:  The Supreme Court's decision on the Voting Rights Act.    Many people seem to think that it's reasonable to ask voters to show ID when they vote.  We all carry ID, right?  No big deal. 

But working at the check-in table at the Pantry has opened my eyes to how many people do not carry ID, or not one that reflects their current address.  So many of the clients have chaotic lives, pushed this way and that by personal emergencies, public policy, and just plain bad luck.  Many have their purses or wallets stolen.  Many move often, seeking safer, better, cheaper housing.

Changing the address on a California  driver's license or ID card costs $26.  Renewing a license costs $32.  That's a lot of money for people who stand in line at the Pantry because they can't afford to go to the grocery store.  I feel as though the Supreme Court has disenfranchised a slew of people, casually and misguidedly.

                                                                                 -6-
Okay, enough rants. (Haven't even touched on Texas .)  We're off on a hike near Nicasio, in Marin County, that Jerry spotted in the SF Chronicle this morning.  Gotta get outta Dodge.

Putting Together This Damned Quilt

I just got back from See's, where I bought two pieces of California Brittle (two pieces, not two cups, I want to make that clear).

This is due to the fact that I couldn't face getting down to business with the current quilt on the wall in my studio, which is turning out to be a bitch to sew together.


Here 's what it looks like:

Variety of background prints

But will it ever be sewn together?

I found the marine-type fabric in the home dec section at Britex in San Francisco.  Bought a bunch.  Had fun carefully cutting the squares around shells and creatures.  Along the way, I decided to stick a background of various black/white/gray prints up on the wall as a background.  Seemed simple.

But it's much easier to applique something like this (hand sew the squares on by on top of background) than to piece around each square so it looks like they're on top of the background.  If you don't quilt, trust me--it's tedious and arithmetically challenging.  Also, intriguing.  I'm making it up as I go along, so no one can rescue me (just like life).

Ann and Mabry in my quilt mini-group, when told of this daunting task, came up with a technique that would be much easier.  Ann was all set to come over to my house to show me, but then I mentioned that  there are 49 squares, and she looked dubious.

I'm forging ahead, but how many pieces of California Brittle is it going to take and how much gas to get over to See's?  I can't buy more than two pieces at a time (oddly, the woman behind me in line today did just the same thing, drove over for two pieces).

The goal is to finish this quilt in time for it to be included in the East Bay Heritage Quilters show next March.  We'll see.

Just to make it more challenging, I'm incorporating bits of tea towels I bought at Kew Garden while we were in England, plus one I bought at Darwin's House in Kent.

Yes, it's supposed to be upside-down

Recent Reads

I'm reading more because of my anti-insomnia routine (turn off the TV!), but I rarely borrow library books because I have allergies to pet dander and dust mites, and often library books are loaded with both. 

Here are some good recent reads:

I'm a big TC Boyle fan, but I don't think I would have picked this up if Jerry, Mr. Never-Read-Novels, hadn't read it first--the cover and title are off-putting.  But Jerry bought it because it's about the Channel Islands, where he's done a lot of field work.  It's the National Park Service vs. animal rights, and I found it riveting, both plot and characters.  Jerry says it's also an accurate account of the history of these islands off the coast of S. California.

The cover's so clever that you can't read it:  A Hologram for the King, by Dave Eggers.  An angst-ridden, divorced, and broke middle-aged man goes to Saudi Arabia as part of a team to sell technology to the Kingdom.  It's funny and tragic, I thought.

I found this book compelling, the story of a Bangladeshi woman who marries an American she meets online.  Her adjustment to the U.S. and to marriage isn't easy, but I thought the author did a good job portraying the complexities of marriage (any marriage, not just one between two such obviously dissimilar people).

A refugee and her son emigrate to England after World War II, their bond so tight that it made me squirm a bit, but also completely understandable after what they've been through.  She marries what seems like a solid, hard-working guy, but the marriage is complicated (see above).  The end feels right.

An entertaining thriller about a young mother who's a CIA agent (and whose husband doesn't know) who follows her spouse to Europe after she quits her job, where Intrigue Ensues.  Her kind of dull husband turns out to be more interesting than she thought, and another couple seems not to be who they're trying to say they are. 

Why not?  It's summer.

Another thriller, the story of a kidnapped child, set in England.  Some harrowing pages near the end, but it kept me engaged.

An Anniversary and Trying to Resist Rick

Yesterday was our wedding anniversary, which always surprises us.  Wow!  How did we get to Year Whatever It Is?






 Here we are 36 years ago yesterday:

 And last month in Switzerland:

We look just the same, right?

leftovers for lunch

Last night, we had reservations at a restaurant in Rockridge in North Oakland, but we bagged it because I didn't feel good and why spend the money on a nice dinner?   

So we changed the reservation to tonight and made a pizza with a Boboli crust, which was pretty good.  There were almost no dishes to clean up (two plates and a cookie sheet), and I wondered why in hell we don't just eat this every night?  Minimal clean-up and all the food groups. 

We're off to Alaska in a week and a half, on a cruise from Seattle up to Sitka and then down the Inside Passage.  It feels way too soon after our last trip.

Here's  what our cabin will look like:

I'm wondering if we're going to share the one small table like we did in Switzerland:

In hotel room in Switzerland:  Jerry checking a map so he can plot where he collected butterflies (in tiny boxes).  To the right, my scrapbook and other travel ephemera.  We shared this one small table each evening.

Or toss a coin over who gets the desk.

I saw part of a Rick Steves marathon on PBS the other night (it was seeing him in a Sound-of-Music-type meadow that motivated us to go to Switzerland), and I thought, "Tell the truth, Rick!  What about security lines, bad seat assignments,  flight delays,  too many train rides, cab drivers in Rome who try to rip you off, having to pay to pee in London, trying to do a wash in a combo-washer-dryer in London that thrashes your clothes for about two days and they're still wet?  What about all that?"

It's Rick-in-a-meadow and this kind of photo that seduces me into booking trips:

Will I ever learn? (Yes!  And my hairdresser says the glaciers are dirty.

Six planes, innumerable trains, and one pair of thrown shoes later:  documentation from our last trip.  Top to bottom:  two scrapbooks of travel ephemera, one printed-out trip journal, photo albums, and  a file of stuff that wouldn't in the scrapbooks.

Babies, Classic Cars, Ice Cream Bars

This afternoon, we walked several blocks to Albany's Memorial Park, which was teeming with families.  Long lines for the climbing wall, pony rides, and throwing-a-ball-to-dunk-a-guy (didn't get a picture of him, but he was about ten, game and shivering).

 

Couldn't get close enough to the Diaper Derby to catch a race, but I caught this adorable girl, who was too young to crawl for a prize.

Then we spied the Classic Cars, which made us feel more comfortable with our demographic:

1947 Lincoln Coupe

1955 Chevy Sedan (above and below)

 

 

 

 

1967 VW Bug (how I remember riding around in these!)

1967 Ford Mustang (ditto)

A quick stop for an ice cream bar:

And a walk home, past a patriotic house and a beautiful rose.

Stranded in a Transit Zone

Moscow's Sheremetyevo Airport

Edward Snowden, former National Security Agency subcontractor and leaker of classified documents, is apparently in limbo in an international "transit zone," at the Moscow airport.

I was in an international transit zone once.  In 1980,  I flew from Sydney to San Francisco, and the plane stopped for refueling in Honolulu.  Passengers were allowed to get off to stretch their legs.  We never officially passed into Hawaii because we were corralled in a big room with plenty of chairs and windows and a bathroom and not allowed out.  We never went through Passport Control or Customs.  It was good to be on the ground, good to look out the windows at the ground, but pretty boring.

That was 30+ years ago.  What's a transit zone like these days?  And, more interesting, what's the nitty gritty of living there? 

A reporter at the Huffington Post, Maria Danilova, also wondered about what the hell the transit lounge at Moscow Airport was like and managed to get this picture:

The transit zone at Moscow airport

Comfy-looking, isn't it?  It is "essentially a long corridor, with boarding gates on one side and gleaming duty free shops, luxury clothing boutiques and souvenir stores...on the other."  There are restaurants (whew! There weren't any in Sydney).  The reporter found no sign of Snowden, but there are  "dozens of small rooms, some labeled 'authorized personnel only,'  where one could potentially seek refuge with support from airport staff..."  I can only hope these rooms have couches.

I wonder what Snowden thought was going to happen if he disclosed the documents.  According to The New Yorker, he could be in prison until approximately 2043 if he returns to the US and faces espionage charges.   Would only a young person do something like this?  Someone who's a) never been in a transit zone and  b) thinks he has a lot of years ahead of him?

The Guardian, the British newspaper that released the Snowden documents, reports that the record for living in an airport is held by Mehran Nasseri, an Iranian refugee, who lived in a departure lounge de Gaulle airport in Paris for 18 years.  My God!  Another Iranian refugee spent ten months at the Moscow airport.  They might as well have been in prison.

And if Snowden is granted asylum somewhere, will he be like the Duke of Windsor? Wandering around, not allowed into the country where he'd really like to be?  But the Duke of W. got to live in a mansion in Paris and go to parties in New York.  Living in Bolivia (possible) or Cuba (no response) would not be like that.  I notice that Snowden hasn't approached North Korea, the one place I can think of that would probably be even worse than a transit zone.