For The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge: Culture, I chose this photo from the Kecak Dance at Uluwatu in Bali, Indonesia. The dance, performed primarily by men, is still a very important part of Balinese life, and from what we understood from our tour guide, all Balinese boys learn the Kecak dance from a very early age; it is a matter of pride to perform in the local village’s dance, and even more so to perform in a sacred place like this world-famous temple.
Today’s my day off for good behavior from the April A to Z Challenge, so I thought I’d look to The Daily Post for something fun to do. Sara Rosso asked for a photo that means “up” in Friday’s edition of the Weekly Photo Challenge, and I immediately knew which folder to visit in my photo archives.
My husband and I were driving home from a day trip in October 2011 when we spotted a whole army of hot air balloons rising up from the English countryside. We pulled into a roadside parking area directly in their flight path and waited as they floated nearer, the dragon’s roar of their burners clearly audible above the whoosh of passing cars. This was my first close-encounter with hot air balloons, and some of their antics conjured up all sorts of horrific accident scenarios, prompting me to pat my back pocket to ensure my cell phone was handy (not that I’m a nervous Nelly or anything). There were a few anxious moments as some balloons struggled to maintain altitude near the high-voltage power lines, but all safely crossed with a few feet to spare. More than one balloon was forced to land prematurely in sheep-strewn fields (intentionally? lack of a favorable wind? pilot error?), but luckily well back from the busy highway, and almost all were able to regroup and rise again to continue on their southward journeys. One balloon in the flotilla was poised to drift directly overhead, so I readied myself to capture the gaping mouth of the beast, feeling a bit like a rabbit analyzing the silent approach of a hawk.
The message in this shot screams “up” to me, from my craned-neck perspective of the underside of the basket, to the painted bird soaring across the envelope’s cobalt background, to the word “sky” lettered on the nylon skin. If I’m ever lucky enough to take a ride in one of these graceful giants, I’ll be sure to collect some photos for a companion post entitled “Down!”
Nearly halfway through the April A to Z Blogging Challenge, and since I’ve posted every day, I get Sunday off (with no assigned letter) for good behavior. Earlier this week, I came across a feature, called Sunday Night Chit-Chat, while surfing through some of the other April A to Z Challenge blog postings, and bookmarked it to use today. I found it on Allison’s site, Duct Tape Holds My World Together and Coffee Fuels My Soul…, and she links back to the original creator at My 1/2 Dozen Daily. Here’s the premise:
Seems like a simple, stress-free way to end a hectic week, so here goes…
What are you…
…reading? Beach Music by Pat Conroy
…watching? With the hubby, the newest seasons of Survivor, Amazing Race, American Idol, and The Voice. When he’s at work, as incentive to do the ironing, I’m watching recorded episodes of my favorite British comedy/drama, Stella.
…listening to? A bunch of old music…it’s time to update the iPod!
…cooking/baking? Nothing fancy this week…just tried to use up leftovers before our long weekend getaway.
…happy you accomplished this week? Got four blog postings drafted so they could be automatically published while I was away.
…looking forward to next week? My mom is coming to England to visit on Thursday!
…thankful for today? A Dutch stamp in my passport, thanks to a long weekend in Holland with my husband, my favorite traveling buddy.
Now it’s your turn! What are you…
You’ve being exiled to a private island, and your captors will only supply you with five foods. What do you pick?
My favorite prompt this week comes from The Daily Post. I loved it because I’ve been on a 1200-calorie-per-day diet since January and have become totally obsessed with daydreams about food. I thought it’d be easy to pick five foods that I’d want from my captors, but as usual, I’ve overthought the whole thing, and now am not sure what foods to request. Am I locked up, or free to move about the island? Are the captors providing me with five ready-to-eat foods (i.e. prepared dishes) that I just dig right into? Or are they providing me with five raw materials to cook any way I choose? If I’m my own chef, am I exiled to an island with a fully equipped kitchen, or am I cooking in a salvaged tin can over a campfire that refuses to stay lit when it rains?
If I’m free to wander but only get five ingredients that I can then cook for myself, I want:
1. Chicken
2. Potatoes
3. Apples
4. Bread
5. Butter
I’m confident I could manage all of these ingredients in a full kitchen or over a fire, and that I could keep my taste buds engaged by foraging for other fruits and maybe some herbs on the island. I’m also not a bad fisherwoman, so I could add variety to my protein intake that way. (How am I gonna catch fish, you ask? Trust me, MacGyver’s got nothing on me. I’ll scavenge the beach for washed-up bits of net, pull the hem out of my pants and tie on a repurposed bobby pin for a hook, sharpen a tree branch to use as a spear… I’m nothing if not resourceful, and doubly so if I’m hungry.)
If my captors are offering me only five ready-to-eat foods in a jail cell, then I’m ordering:
1. Mushrooms on toast
2. Pizza with pepperoni, sausage, green peppers, onions, mushrooms, and tomatoes
3. Oatmeal with cinnamon and raisins
4. Chef salad with ranch dressing, hold the hard-boiled eggs
5. Rib-eye steak, medium, smothered in sautéed mushrooms and onions
I think there’s enough variety here to maintain a healthy diet and rotate some different options for breakfast, lunch, and dinner (assuming, of course, my captors believe in three square meals a day).
I notice that chocolate is not on either of my lists, and wonder about that omission. I can go for long stretches without eating chocolate, unless I know it is not available, and then I crave it to the point of madness. For the sake of my sanity and for the safety of my captors, I wonder if I should replace one item from each list with a Hershey bar? So many doubts and questions for such a simple prompt…
“Remember — they’re relying on you!” Churchill’s propaganda ensured no rebellion from patriots evicted by war.
Victory achieved, vague promises broken; we never returned.
Today, betrayal blows in the wind as rain batters our beloved Tyneham’s ruins.
Silly me, thinking the three extra words granted in this weekend’s Trifextra: Week 60 challenge would make life easier. I had no problem incorporating the three assigned words, rain, rebellion, and remember, into my piece, only creating the impact I desired in 36 words. Still not sure I achieved it, but ready to walk away for today. If inspiration strikes in the middle of the night, I’ll be back to post a revision.
For a brief history of England’s lost village of Tyneham, check out the article on ForteanTimes.
My favorite writing prompt this week comes from The One Minute Writer, and they simply asked if I had a “go-to” mug or cup. This notion is sort of a running joke in my house, so I thought it was worth a response!
For a couple of years now, I’ve teased my husband about only drinking from one coffee cup, day in and day out. It’s not as if we don’t have a dozen sizeable mugs, plus the boring old cups that match the dishes, lined up in the cabinet and ready for use. No, his Starbucks mug is used after dinner every night, filled with water and left in the sink at bedtime, and hand-washed the following afternoon in preparation for its next use (he has no time for coffee before work in the morning, or I’d be hand-washing the cup twice a day). Every other mug we own goes in the dishwasher immediately after use, sits there until the dishwasher fills up, and sometimes doesn’t return to its shelf in the cabinet for a week. The only time my husband’s cup can go in the dishwasher is if all of the following conditions are met: 1) he has finished his evening coffee, 2) the dishwasher is full and ready to be run immediately upon adding the cup to the top rack, and 3) my schedule allows time to unload the clean dishes before the cup is needed again. A few times I tried presenting the evening cuppa joe in a different mug, only to be met with a wounded look and a pitiful, “Where is my cup?” and finally decided it wasn’t worth the guilt trip to avoid hand-washing a single mug. I send up a daily prayer that I not be the one to drop this beloved mug on the unforgiving tile floor…
I, on the other hand, couldn’t care less which mug I use for my cup of hot cocoa or herbal tea after dinner. We’ve got an extensive collection of large Starbucks mugs from every Asian city we visited while living in Japan, and I am perfectly happy to just rotate through them, so as not to subject only one or two to excessive trips through the dishwasher. However, this winter I’ve formally adopted the English custom of afternoon tea, usually drunk while I’m trying to dream up a blog post, and I’ve noticed that I habitually reach for one of two plain glass mugs we bought during some move, when our own dishes had not yet arrived and we could no longer tolerate the deprivation we felt drinking from the dainty six-ounce tea cups in the loaner set of tableware. The glass mug is nothing special…just a utilitarian Anchor Hocking mug which can be found on the shelf of any Walmart store in the US. Yet something about this mug is like inviting an old friend for afternoon tea–it’s comforting and familiar, and makes no demands, a perfect foil for the blinking cursor on the screen before me. It’s a heavy mug, with glass thick enough to take an occasional whack without complaint, but well-balanced, with a handle that sits comfortably in my grip. More importantly, there is just enough headroom to make twelve ounces of tea (my preferred volume) and carry it upstairs to my office without spilling along the way.
I’m still happy to use whatever mug I pull down from the cabinet for my evening beverage, but my unpretentious afternoon tea mug now sits in the sink beside my husband’s Starbucks mug, waiting for its daily hand-washing. There is decidedly less teasing on my part, while the prayers for protection from an unfortunate demise on the tile floor have doubled.
In rage and disbelief, I followed them, my Nikon capturing irrefutable proof for my client. A stone’s throw ahead, the faithless husband paused and passionately claimed my wife’s willing mouth with his own.
Ever a glutton for punishment, I’m pushing the minimalist limits by accepting Trifecta‘s weekend challenge, the Trifextra for week 58. The instructions were simple…write a 33-word story featuring the word “stone,” using any definition of the word. Constructive feedback is appreciated!
Things I See and Know 