The manner in which we've entered cities has developed significance for me. Leaving Portland was reminiscent of arriving as Bobby and I lugged about 200 lbs of luggage up and down hills. I ran ahead to stall the bus while he made circles, slowly bringing our luggage forward in groups. This seemed to reflect my experience with getting around in Portland as a whole, despite their intricate bus system...work was a 2 hour commute, often in chilly rain, one way.
Entering New Orleans was automatically easier because we were driving my newly re-purchased, salvaged, now-a-bit-banged-up Saturn! Perfect for street parking during Mardis Gras - go ahead and hit it, we don't care!
I digress...entering New Orleans, although in a car, was not exactly easy. Torrential downpour and tornado warnings gave the area a very volatile feel, as if the whole area was unstable and unpredictable.
We were arriving during the height of Mardis Gras, as evident by a bunch of college boys dressed as women standing outside of a bar at the end of our road. Later that night, another group decided to celebrate their drunken manliness with Indian war whoops in a little circle in front of our bead-decorated house.
The next day, my brother and sister-in-law arrived and we headed out the the parades. How do I describe Mardis Gras? The sheer number of people lining the streets excites you, and the feel of party wafts through the air. The freeway heading into the city is backed for miles and beads are found in the most unexpected places...strung on telephone wires, in tree branches, and through rod-iron fences. Celebrating supersedes work, by a LOT, in this town.
We picked our way through the chairs and grills and began walking through the streets, when all of a sudden a tidal wave of vendors, pulling carts with cotton candy or hats and toys, came rushing towards us. I knew something was about to begin when a vendor brushed off little girl trying to purchase a wad of cotton candy in his rush to get away from...something. We found a front row spot (literally, this was so close that I was millimeters from being hit by a spinning baton and cymbal on two different occasions). We waited. A limo flanked by police cars blowing their horns drove through. We waited. More police cars. Waited....then came the police on horses. About eight of them sat for about 10 minutes and when they finally moved, everyone cheered. The parade had begun.
And then the horse pooped directly in front of us. And then, the parade began in earnest.
Our Mardis Gras mission was clear - we, and the people pressing to our right and left, had to warn the parade dancers, musicians, and others passing by. It went pretty well, until we saw the approach of the marching band spanning the length of the road and knew they were doomed. But Mardi Gras goes on, even as the poo got spread and trampled further and further. The noise of the trumpets and drums in your ear; the sparkly costumes of the steppers with their pompom boots, and of-course the bead-laden floats. They probably could solely keep China in business. The amazing part is, how much excitement they can generate in you to want to capture these beautiful shiny brightly colored bead flying through the air, which will serve absolutely NO purpose once you get them home. Not so much the average beads, but every once in a while, they'll throw out special beads...ones with rubber skulls strung through, or grotesquely over-sized ones. These go to the loudest, or closest, or cutest parade-attendees. Most valuable of all, perhaps, are the Zulu parade's coveted painted coconuts. You'll hear people yelling "coconut" or go up to policemen on horses with sacks full of goodies, begging for a coconut. My own moment of glory came when I made eye contact with a floater (person throwing stuff from a float). I maintained the eye contact, knowing that he would throw me the prized non-bead object in his hand if he looked too long (out of guilt, probably). He did, and it was a golden coconut! Seconds after getting it, people cheered and the girl behind me offered to buy it from me. One floater was supposedly willing to trade two Heineken for a coconut. You think I'm being overly-dramatic, but they really suck you in with the noise, decorations, and lights. Bobby and Andy had me so loaded with beads one night that my neck was hurting and I was begging them to stop.
It is fun though.
The other side of Mardis Gras has to be the costumes. On Fat Tuesday, if you're not dressed oddly (and age does not negate this fact) then you will be out-of-place. Anything goes, although down in the French Quarter, the weirder and more creative the better. There wasn't really a theme for costumes...men dress as women, women as fairies...I found Waldo, Obama, A Hooters Girl (man)...it didn't matter.
What perhaps surprised me most was that, although their were lots of publicly open alcoholic drinks, the majority of Mardis Gras really was a family affair. Children played football in the streets and were hoisted on parent's shoulders when the parades began. Family's camped out and grilled all day. Granted, Bourbon Street had a bit of a different feel, but I didn't see one female exposure (at least from the front). Had we stayed out much later than 9 pm on Fat Tuesday, that may have been a different story. Only the partiers with the most endurance or strongest chemical "enhancement" would have lasted through five full days of partying and kept going into that night.
I'm sure they're all fasting for Lent now...
Friday, March 11, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Portland, Oregon: The City of Niceness
It really is the city of Niceness, I tell you. It's similar to Portand, Maine, in that people are down-to-Earth, active, and outdoorsy...but here people are over-the-top nice. If you tell them that, they'll just say that you must be putting it out there to receive it. How sweet!
Well, there's a lot that I've missed since my last blogger. We left Duke, visited snowy ole Syracuse for testing (they already have had 70 inches this year up there, I hear), then proceeded to return to PA for the holidays where we wrecked one car and took the other one to the shop 3 times. Needless to say, we decided not to drive across country as originally planned.
Instead we bought one-way plane tickets, took a light rail, bus, and hiked almost a mile carrying mounds of luggage. I thought my arms were going to fall off at the elbows.
Christmas was nice though...mainly it was filled with playing games with Kt and Phil and the rest of Bobby's family as well as some of the stress of looking for a new car (post-poned that). We've graduated from Pitch onto the threshold of feisty card games like Bridge and Canasta or Pinnacle....I have no idea of their names, nor how to play them (yet) but I know that I associate most of them with smoking older women with Brooklyn accents.
Anyhoo, this is an exciting time for us because the final leg of our journey is here. TWO more rotations to go and our dreams of an income and our own place and no more living out of boxes and suitcases will be realized! I'll be able to have a garden and spices and a sound night of sleep....and all my clothing available to wear. Little as they seem, these are some of the things I miss. And Bobby will know which drawer the silverware is in (you start mixing it up after so many houses). So, we're putting out applications and praying.
Portland will be a different sort of rotation, since we're living with a lady and her early-20s son and don't have a car (already annoying). Lots of the people here are into board sports, like even the cardiac surgeon is an avid snowboarder, and there's that laid-back Western "go for it" attitude that I love. Portland is clean. It's evergreen and house dotted hills, landscaped by a couple of volcanic snow-covered mountains melting into the sky. It's the perfect place to start experimenting with soups and rustic breads from scratch...mmm. I'm interested in cooking more than ever right now (thanks, KT, my fearless inspiration!). Yep, made my first beef soup yesterday and it was good!
Well, I suppose that I will leave off there.
Sorry I've been so MIA and hope you all are doing well.
K&B
Well, there's a lot that I've missed since my last blogger. We left Duke, visited snowy ole Syracuse for testing (they already have had 70 inches this year up there, I hear), then proceeded to return to PA for the holidays where we wrecked one car and took the other one to the shop 3 times. Needless to say, we decided not to drive across country as originally planned.
Instead we bought one-way plane tickets, took a light rail, bus, and hiked almost a mile carrying mounds of luggage. I thought my arms were going to fall off at the elbows.
Christmas was nice though...mainly it was filled with playing games with Kt and Phil and the rest of Bobby's family as well as some of the stress of looking for a new car (post-poned that). We've graduated from Pitch onto the threshold of feisty card games like Bridge and Canasta or Pinnacle....I have no idea of their names, nor how to play them (yet) but I know that I associate most of them with smoking older women with Brooklyn accents.
Anyhoo, this is an exciting time for us because the final leg of our journey is here. TWO more rotations to go and our dreams of an income and our own place and no more living out of boxes and suitcases will be realized! I'll be able to have a garden and spices and a sound night of sleep....and all my clothing available to wear. Little as they seem, these are some of the things I miss. And Bobby will know which drawer the silverware is in (you start mixing it up after so many houses). So, we're putting out applications and praying.
Portland will be a different sort of rotation, since we're living with a lady and her early-20s son and don't have a car (already annoying). Lots of the people here are into board sports, like even the cardiac surgeon is an avid snowboarder, and there's that laid-back Western "go for it" attitude that I love. Portland is clean. It's evergreen and house dotted hills, landscaped by a couple of volcanic snow-covered mountains melting into the sky. It's the perfect place to start experimenting with soups and rustic breads from scratch...mmm. I'm interested in cooking more than ever right now (thanks, KT, my fearless inspiration!). Yep, made my first beef soup yesterday and it was good!
Well, I suppose that I will leave off there.
Sorry I've been so MIA and hope you all are doing well.
K&B
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Relax (sort of). Week Twooooo
Week Two: an improvement upon week one, aside from one minor incident, which I will get out of the way first...
I took my landlady's business association travel mug to work, went window-shopping afterward, and lost it (what can I say, "Like Tornado, like daughter"). I retraced all my steps and still couldn't find it. I PRAYED, and then retraced all my steps again the next day, got redirected by someone who happened to hear from someone that a mug was found, and FOUND IT! Thank you, Lord. Because we want everything to go smoothly from now on...
and for the most part it has! The two cats that we're house-sitting love us. I met some new people at work, whom I really like. Bobby's already getting excellent reviews on all his cases. Our church is rocking. We finally got another tennis racket and are playing whenever possible. I'm cutting back on spending by planning out exactly what I'm going to buy from the grocery store and how much it will cost. I set the limit at $35 per week for food, but quickly realised that this was probably $15 too little, because I noticed that we started grabbing food while we were out. So, I'm going to tweek the amount until I find that perfect balance that allows for Bobby's lunches, our meals, as well as a few snacks around the house. I've learned that it's best for our waistlines and wallets to just not buy that much food because the more we have, the more we'll eat.
Halloween weekend was super relaxing for us. Believe it or not, it was the only weekend left in the whole rotation during which we don't have plans. We decided to make it a little special by buying some hot wings with celery and blue cheese, and watching scary (ok, funny) movies while waiting for tricker-treaters. When 9:00 pm rolled around, we were sort of disappointed that none had showed up to our house, but we consoled ourselves by eating more of their candy. It was nice. The only problem was that the next day, Sunday, the pastor said "Happy Halloween" (he then went into how it was "All Saints Day") and all the clues began to add up that we had celebrated Halloween a day too early. There's something about Bobby and I...especially with dates. Oblivious? It definitely tranfers into Trivia...(transition)
Yesterday, we found a Trivia game, "Play It Smart" and had to make up new rules that whoever gets 3 right first, wins, since it would take way too long for us to get five in one category like the rules say. I feel like I had been exposed to many of the answers to the questions, it's just that I have no memory for random facts like that. That's why I write: to not forget my life. Peoples names and dates allude me; however, words in Spanish were so easy for me to memorize because I could relate them to something. I digress. So, in the middle of this game, Bob-the-cat, comes walking into the dining room and begins meowing. He doesn't usually ask for attention like that, so I thought that perhaps he didn't realize that I had set out his dinner while he was outside. So, I went into the kitchen and called him in. He came in after me, and continued to meow. I looked over and saw that he had a gray mouse in his mouth! I yelled for Bobby and Bob put the mouse, who preceded to shake and run (it was still completely alive), down. Unfortunately, as Bobby was shooing Bob (bare with me, it's confusing with the similar names) away, and I was acting girlie in the corner, the mouse disappeared somewhere into the house. We searched, (which is scary, because in the movies when you search for a rodent, as soon as you shine a flashlight under the couch, they dart full-speed at your face) but didn't find anything. There was a little crack behind a board under the kitchen island, so Bobby thinks he went under the floor and was probably able to escape from there. I guess we'll know he wasn't if we begin to smell something foul. Reminds me of the time that a 5 foot snake randomly slithered through the kitchen at my Mom's house, but that's a whole other story, for a different time...
farewell, and hope you all had a Happy Halloween, remembering the Saints of old.
I took my landlady's business association travel mug to work, went window-shopping afterward, and lost it (what can I say, "Like Tornado, like daughter"). I retraced all my steps and still couldn't find it. I PRAYED, and then retraced all my steps again the next day, got redirected by someone who happened to hear from someone that a mug was found, and FOUND IT! Thank you, Lord. Because we want everything to go smoothly from now on...
and for the most part it has! The two cats that we're house-sitting love us. I met some new people at work, whom I really like. Bobby's already getting excellent reviews on all his cases. Our church is rocking. We finally got another tennis racket and are playing whenever possible. I'm cutting back on spending by planning out exactly what I'm going to buy from the grocery store and how much it will cost. I set the limit at $35 per week for food, but quickly realised that this was probably $15 too little, because I noticed that we started grabbing food while we were out. So, I'm going to tweek the amount until I find that perfect balance that allows for Bobby's lunches, our meals, as well as a few snacks around the house. I've learned that it's best for our waistlines and wallets to just not buy that much food because the more we have, the more we'll eat.
Halloween weekend was super relaxing for us. Believe it or not, it was the only weekend left in the whole rotation during which we don't have plans. We decided to make it a little special by buying some hot wings with celery and blue cheese, and watching scary (ok, funny) movies while waiting for tricker-treaters. When 9:00 pm rolled around, we were sort of disappointed that none had showed up to our house, but we consoled ourselves by eating more of their candy. It was nice. The only problem was that the next day, Sunday, the pastor said "Happy Halloween" (he then went into how it was "All Saints Day") and all the clues began to add up that we had celebrated Halloween a day too early. There's something about Bobby and I...especially with dates. Oblivious? It definitely tranfers into Trivia...(transition)
Yesterday, we found a Trivia game, "Play It Smart" and had to make up new rules that whoever gets 3 right first, wins, since it would take way too long for us to get five in one category like the rules say. I feel like I had been exposed to many of the answers to the questions, it's just that I have no memory for random facts like that. That's why I write: to not forget my life. Peoples names and dates allude me; however, words in Spanish were so easy for me to memorize because I could relate them to something. I digress. So, in the middle of this game, Bob-the-cat, comes walking into the dining room and begins meowing. He doesn't usually ask for attention like that, so I thought that perhaps he didn't realize that I had set out his dinner while he was outside. So, I went into the kitchen and called him in. He came in after me, and continued to meow. I looked over and saw that he had a gray mouse in his mouth! I yelled for Bobby and Bob put the mouse, who preceded to shake and run (it was still completely alive), down. Unfortunately, as Bobby was shooing Bob (bare with me, it's confusing with the similar names) away, and I was acting girlie in the corner, the mouse disappeared somewhere into the house. We searched, (which is scary, because in the movies when you search for a rodent, as soon as you shine a flashlight under the couch, they dart full-speed at your face) but didn't find anything. There was a little crack behind a board under the kitchen island, so Bobby thinks he went under the floor and was probably able to escape from there. I guess we'll know he wasn't if we begin to smell something foul. Reminds me of the time that a 5 foot snake randomly slithered through the kitchen at my Mom's house, but that's a whole other story, for a different time...
farewell, and hope you all had a Happy Halloween, remembering the Saints of old.
North Carolinaaaaa: Week One
Well ya'll (I'm trying to blend in down here so I don't get any more backlash for being a Yankee), I have some catching up to do. Technically, it's the 3rd week, but I'm going to recap...so faaaade out to week one....
We drove into Chapel Hill, NC, toting a (little did we know it) TORNADO along in the backseat of our car. The tornado whirled through the house (which by the way, is beautiful: granite countertops, paintings, sculptures, and pottery covering each room...big, over-sized but tasteful pieces, and a secluded outdoor dining area with a twinkle-light covered trellis spattered with roses in a quiet wooded neighborhood...how's that for a run-on?). So, the tornado whirled through the house, sucking up dirt, trash, and dirty laundry in her path (along with a few of the landlady's pretty-little-napkins and roasted garlic olive oil). But then, inevitably, the 200 mph winds began to do what they can not help but do: create destruction. It began simply enough, "The window won't shut."
Bobby - "Tornado, You're pushing the lock the wrong way"
"Why's the frame crooked?"
"It's okay, we can fix that. We just need a ladder"
Then, I hear a CRASH in the next room. Oh no, Tornadooooo! Pieces of pottery on the ground....a sugarbowl, no, only the spoon to the sugarbowl...looks hand-made. Okay, good idea- the Tornado is looking for a replacement online. We look for about an hour. Bobby comes home. In five minutes, he's located a replacement...sort of. $80 starting bid for a similar replica. It's a collector's item.
I start checking around. Is there any other damage about which we're unaware? A marble pastry board used as a cutting board? Some of the landlady's food devoured? A ripped seat cushion?
Ok, Tornado...Thank you for your help, but now we want you to just be a guest. Just relax, we will serve you. Please don't do anything; don't touch anything...
So, that began our week in NC and struck fear into my heart as to what the rest of this rotation will hold. Well, that and the fact that I was already seeing some signs of cultural clashes at work. My first day on the job, I was introduced as coming from up in Maine and New York (significant looks given). The response by one girl was, "Oh, so we've got a..." Would you like to finish that? Perhaps with 'Yankee'??
Then, I got talked to by my manager because a client complained that I had made eye contact with her and not greeted her. In my defense, I have no memory of doing this wicked thing whatsoever...most likely, I was under mounds of clothing desperately searching the store for where they went while 2,078 other garments were being discarded onto the rolling rack. You're welcome for filling in for you on my first day in NC on the busiest day of the week.
Other than that, things went well. We played a lot of 5-Straight...great vintage game. I went with my family up to my Grandmother's 80th surprise party. It was lovely (first time I'd spent more than a day away from Bobby...didn't miss him too terribly, but felt sort of shy when I saw him again, like a first date). Bobby's KILLING it, as usual, in the OR (not literally). The city is clean and everywhere feels like country because they keep up a lot of trees down here.
BTW, I love the Tornado. She is very helpful, and I'm sorry that I gave her a hard time because she's the best and I love her just the way she is...200 mph winds and all! In her defense, the broken spoon incident is taken care of and all of her pottery lessons are finally paying off!
We drove into Chapel Hill, NC, toting a (little did we know it) TORNADO along in the backseat of our car. The tornado whirled through the house (which by the way, is beautiful: granite countertops, paintings, sculptures, and pottery covering each room...big, over-sized but tasteful pieces, and a secluded outdoor dining area with a twinkle-light covered trellis spattered with roses in a quiet wooded neighborhood...how's that for a run-on?). So, the tornado whirled through the house, sucking up dirt, trash, and dirty laundry in her path (along with a few of the landlady's pretty-little-napkins and roasted garlic olive oil). But then, inevitably, the 200 mph winds began to do what they can not help but do: create destruction. It began simply enough, "The window won't shut."
Bobby - "Tornado, You're pushing the lock the wrong way"
"Why's the frame crooked?"
"It's okay, we can fix that. We just need a ladder"
Then, I hear a CRASH in the next room. Oh no, Tornadooooo! Pieces of pottery on the ground....a sugarbowl, no, only the spoon to the sugarbowl...looks hand-made. Okay, good idea- the Tornado is looking for a replacement online. We look for about an hour. Bobby comes home. In five minutes, he's located a replacement...sort of. $80 starting bid for a similar replica. It's a collector's item.
I start checking around. Is there any other damage about which we're unaware? A marble pastry board used as a cutting board? Some of the landlady's food devoured? A ripped seat cushion?
Ok, Tornado...Thank you for your help, but now we want you to just be a guest. Just relax, we will serve you. Please don't do anything; don't touch anything...
So, that began our week in NC and struck fear into my heart as to what the rest of this rotation will hold. Well, that and the fact that I was already seeing some signs of cultural clashes at work. My first day on the job, I was introduced as coming from up in Maine and New York (significant looks given). The response by one girl was, "Oh, so we've got a..." Would you like to finish that? Perhaps with 'Yankee'??
Then, I got talked to by my manager because a client complained that I had made eye contact with her and not greeted her. In my defense, I have no memory of doing this wicked thing whatsoever...most likely, I was under mounds of clothing desperately searching the store for where they went while 2,078 other garments were being discarded onto the rolling rack. You're welcome for filling in for you on my first day in NC on the busiest day of the week.
Other than that, things went well. We played a lot of 5-Straight...great vintage game. I went with my family up to my Grandmother's 80th surprise party. It was lovely (first time I'd spent more than a day away from Bobby...didn't miss him too terribly, but felt sort of shy when I saw him again, like a first date). Bobby's KILLING it, as usual, in the OR (not literally). The city is clean and everywhere feels like country because they keep up a lot of trees down here.
BTW, I love the Tornado. She is very helpful, and I'm sorry that I gave her a hard time because she's the best and I love her just the way she is...200 mph winds and all! In her defense, the broken spoon incident is taken care of and all of her pottery lessons are finally paying off!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
North Carolina: Week One
It's all a bit of a blur. I posted pictures on facebook to "say a thousand words" to capture the last two weeks at Maine, which were filled with the company of friends and family: steaming up lobsters, playing flag football, walking through downtown Portland in the rain, interacting with Moose and chipmunks, going to the arcade at the beach, and swinging at the nearby park. Since then, we've visited our PA people and my family in NC on our way to our rotation at Duke University, where we are now settling.
The house that we're renting comes complete with two quite-large cats and is filled with artwork of all kinds and surrounded by rose bushes and woods. Even though the neighbors are within sight, it feels secluded and peaceful. However, for some reason, I'm a little more afraid of this rotation. This was the area that we wanted to go to most, and I've had this dream of settling in the south for some time. However, it may be just me, but it seems that things aren't off to the smoothest start ever, and I just have this feeling...
I'll keep you posted.
p.s. (I'll feel a bit safer when my Mother leaves. I LOVE her to death, but she has this way of creating "boon-doggles" as my Dad calls them. Somehow, the most innocent act can turn into disaster with her. lol) The "jury's out" on this rotation, and I'll keep you posted with more information.
The house that we're renting comes complete with two quite-large cats and is filled with artwork of all kinds and surrounded by rose bushes and woods. Even though the neighbors are within sight, it feels secluded and peaceful. However, for some reason, I'm a little more afraid of this rotation. This was the area that we wanted to go to most, and I've had this dream of settling in the south for some time. However, it may be just me, but it seems that things aren't off to the smoothest start ever, and I just have this feeling...
I'll keep you posted.
p.s. (I'll feel a bit safer when my Mother leaves. I LOVE her to death, but she has this way of creating "boon-doggles" as my Dad calls them. Somehow, the most innocent act can turn into disaster with her. lol) The "jury's out" on this rotation, and I'll keep you posted with more information.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Maine: Week Two & Three
Aaahhh...home again. Funny, we have so many places that feel like home now. When we traveled to Syracuse this weekend, it was like my insides breathed a sigh of relief...here are Adam and Harrison Street. Wanna go out to eat? I know a place. If I need to shop or meet up with a friend, I know where to go and who to call. Yes, Syracuse felt like home. But, guess what? When we returned, so did Maine. I equally breathed a sigh of relief to return to our little apartment above the garage because here is our routine; here is our peace and quiet, and here is where there is just us. This is home, for now.
Nevertheless, our five day, eight hour trip back to NY for Bobby's Perfusion Conference was just a great time. We sprung our arrival on the Butterfields only a week in advance (sorry!), who opened their beautiful home, accented with Lindor Truffles and mints in the bedroom, graciously for us, even calling us the "perfect house-guests." Well, they were the perfect hosts, then. They felt like family and we sat and chatted for hours whenever our schedules allowed, which wasn't often with everyone working, including me. Bobby was at school from morning till night helping with the conference, working on his presentation, and catching up with colleagues. Meanwhile, I filled in at a group home for girls with disabilities, and put in a good 23 hours. (Thanks, God!)
One of the highlights was the dance that I attended for people with mental disabilities. SO. Much. Fun. How can I describe it...? It was like a club, but in a church gym, complete with a live Elvis impersonator and DJ. People in wheelchairs were dancing their shoulders and knecks out. A heavy set couple with Downs-Syndrome were swaying happily to the romantic songs. One of my favorites was a middle-aged woman with half of her teeth missing who enthusiastically kept asking me, "Do you know how to clap?!" and then proceeding to clap her heart out in beat to the music. I saw break-dancing, some good, some not so good; sexy hair tossing, by a girl with unbelievably large hips, and a "train" with three men making up the compartments.
Upon entering, I was approached by a 6"3 gangly boy whose upper lip did not make it over his crooked teeth. He lingered in front of me, staring, until I said, "Hi, I'm Kara," and held out my hand. I decided to redirect him, because I could tell that he was looking for a serious love relationship, not just friendship, and introduced him to "Sarah", a large-toothed sweet girl from the house, who's generally much more interested in girls than boys. But what incredible teeth their children would have!
They hit it off right away, moving right into a hug after the handshake that "Ryan" (names are changed to protect privacy) didn't want to let go of. They linked hands and jitterbugged and shared one of the longest, most intimate good-bye hugs that I'd ever seen at the end of the night. Now, Sarah calls him her boyfriend, even though she continuously forgets his name (that's okay...three days in and she's still asking for mine).
After I had successfully pawned off Ryan, I was approached by a staff member who informed me that I was the only girl in the room with which his crutch-bound client would dance (the "Belle" of the ball, huh?). I encouraged him that I would be a good sport if his client could gather the courage to come out to the dance floor. Meanwhile, I continued dancing with "Gia", who, for her limited verbal and physical abilities, got really into it - clapping and standing in front of me so that I would shake her hips and move her arms for her. After two unsuccessful attempts, my crutch-bound suitor finally braved the floor, flanked by his two 6" tall staff/friends. None of them were dancing. Did they expect me to do a little dance for him while they all watched? Because that's not in my job description. I wasn't sure, so I danced closer to him with Gia, but felt a little shy as well. It all sort of fizzled out like a Middle School drama with him leaving, and me dancing away with my happy client. But the girls had so much fun and I'm sure that my hopeful dance partner's leg will heal and a suitable beauty will catch his eye again. There's so much more to say about it all - the dynamics of this particular house were truly fascinating.
However, I'll conclude by saying that it was a great, productive weekend. Bobby nailed his presentation. Although he woke one night with anxiety, his prayers paid off because he ended up seeming as calm as a clam (Maine reference) and fielding the questions from other perfusionists as if he had prepared and researched for each specifically. My smartie-husband, everyone seems to love him! I DO.
One sad event occurred on the way to the "Meet-and-Greet" at the hotel. A dred-locked man, supported by his parents, entered the elevator with us. He shuffled like a 90 year old and his face was shocking - half of it was swollen like a bloated gourd and deep, fresh tears scaled his skin, as if he'd been raked with a claw, from forehead to chin. His arm was also in a sling. I remember that he had pale yellow socks with rubber flip-flops over them. They told us that he was in the recent double-decker bus accident. The driver took the wrong exit and ended up crunching the top of the bus into a low bridge on Onondaga Lake Parkway. It was an international tour bus and the incident made world news. Four died and this man was one of the 27 who were seriously injured. He spoke quietly and seemed so weak and childlike - still in shock. Life is fragile, but the Bible says not to fear sudden disaster or the ruin that overtakes the wicked, because He will be our confidence and keep our foot from being snared (devos this morning).
So, those were glimpses into our third week at Maine. Four more to go.
By the way, our second week was fairly uneventful, aside from the fact that I began working at the Loft and we did a phone interview to be on Jerry Seinfeld's show, "The Marriage Ref". I think that we blew it since the issue that we were debating is no longer present. Namely, my husband decided to leave his rotting old sleeping bag/obsessive-comfort-blankie named "Ribbie" at his Mom's house. I Win! (...and lose, since we could've gotten a free cruise had it all panned out.)
Oh well - my minute on Jay Leno will have to be enough.
Have a great week!
Nevertheless, our five day, eight hour trip back to NY for Bobby's Perfusion Conference was just a great time. We sprung our arrival on the Butterfields only a week in advance (sorry!), who opened their beautiful home, accented with Lindor Truffles and mints in the bedroom, graciously for us, even calling us the "perfect house-guests." Well, they were the perfect hosts, then. They felt like family and we sat and chatted for hours whenever our schedules allowed, which wasn't often with everyone working, including me. Bobby was at school from morning till night helping with the conference, working on his presentation, and catching up with colleagues. Meanwhile, I filled in at a group home for girls with disabilities, and put in a good 23 hours. (Thanks, God!)
One of the highlights was the dance that I attended for people with mental disabilities. SO. Much. Fun. How can I describe it...? It was like a club, but in a church gym, complete with a live Elvis impersonator and DJ. People in wheelchairs were dancing their shoulders and knecks out. A heavy set couple with Downs-Syndrome were swaying happily to the romantic songs. One of my favorites was a middle-aged woman with half of her teeth missing who enthusiastically kept asking me, "Do you know how to clap?!" and then proceeding to clap her heart out in beat to the music. I saw break-dancing, some good, some not so good; sexy hair tossing, by a girl with unbelievably large hips, and a "train" with three men making up the compartments.
Upon entering, I was approached by a 6"3 gangly boy whose upper lip did not make it over his crooked teeth. He lingered in front of me, staring, until I said, "Hi, I'm Kara," and held out my hand. I decided to redirect him, because I could tell that he was looking for a serious love relationship, not just friendship, and introduced him to "Sarah", a large-toothed sweet girl from the house, who's generally much more interested in girls than boys. But what incredible teeth their children would have!
They hit it off right away, moving right into a hug after the handshake that "Ryan" (names are changed to protect privacy) didn't want to let go of. They linked hands and jitterbugged and shared one of the longest, most intimate good-bye hugs that I'd ever seen at the end of the night. Now, Sarah calls him her boyfriend, even though she continuously forgets his name (that's okay...three days in and she's still asking for mine).
After I had successfully pawned off Ryan, I was approached by a staff member who informed me that I was the only girl in the room with which his crutch-bound client would dance (the "Belle" of the ball, huh?). I encouraged him that I would be a good sport if his client could gather the courage to come out to the dance floor. Meanwhile, I continued dancing with "Gia", who, for her limited verbal and physical abilities, got really into it - clapping and standing in front of me so that I would shake her hips and move her arms for her. After two unsuccessful attempts, my crutch-bound suitor finally braved the floor, flanked by his two 6" tall staff/friends. None of them were dancing. Did they expect me to do a little dance for him while they all watched? Because that's not in my job description. I wasn't sure, so I danced closer to him with Gia, but felt a little shy as well. It all sort of fizzled out like a Middle School drama with him leaving, and me dancing away with my happy client. But the girls had so much fun and I'm sure that my hopeful dance partner's leg will heal and a suitable beauty will catch his eye again. There's so much more to say about it all - the dynamics of this particular house were truly fascinating.
However, I'll conclude by saying that it was a great, productive weekend. Bobby nailed his presentation. Although he woke one night with anxiety, his prayers paid off because he ended up seeming as calm as a clam (Maine reference) and fielding the questions from other perfusionists as if he had prepared and researched for each specifically. My smartie-husband, everyone seems to love him! I DO.
One sad event occurred on the way to the "Meet-and-Greet" at the hotel. A dred-locked man, supported by his parents, entered the elevator with us. He shuffled like a 90 year old and his face was shocking - half of it was swollen like a bloated gourd and deep, fresh tears scaled his skin, as if he'd been raked with a claw, from forehead to chin. His arm was also in a sling. I remember that he had pale yellow socks with rubber flip-flops over them. They told us that he was in the recent double-decker bus accident. The driver took the wrong exit and ended up crunching the top of the bus into a low bridge on Onondaga Lake Parkway. It was an international tour bus and the incident made world news. Four died and this man was one of the 27 who were seriously injured. He spoke quietly and seemed so weak and childlike - still in shock. Life is fragile, but the Bible says not to fear sudden disaster or the ruin that overtakes the wicked, because He will be our confidence and keep our foot from being snared (devos this morning).
So, those were glimpses into our third week at Maine. Four more to go.
By the way, our second week was fairly uneventful, aside from the fact that I began working at the Loft and we did a phone interview to be on Jerry Seinfeld's show, "The Marriage Ref". I think that we blew it since the issue that we were debating is no longer present. Namely, my husband decided to leave his rotting old sleeping bag/obsessive-comfort-blankie named "Ribbie" at his Mom's house. I Win! (...and lose, since we could've gotten a free cruise had it all panned out.)
Oh well - my minute on Jay Leno will have to be enough.
Have a great week!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Goodbye Rochester, Helloooo Maine!
We loaded up our clothing, lickety-split (?) and headed out for the 1,000 Islands to camp with Bobby's family. Bobby was sent off with exceptional reviews from Rochester, and promises of plenty of connections for when he needs to job search. Dreams of waterskiing, tubing, wakeboarding, and floating up to restaurants in cute little towns were dashed when Phil's boat broke down and the guys' troubleshooting efforts were of no avail. We supplemented with playing Big-ball volleyball at least twice a day and toasting exotic s'mores using coconut, strawberry, and chocolate-swirl marshmallows over a campfire at night.
Bobby and I were tested when I happened across a 2-carat diamond ring with platinum band on the ground. Probably a once-in-a-lifetime find. I did turn it in to the authorities, and that same day Bobby found out that his application for NY state residency was accepted, which will save us about the equivalent to what that ring was worth!
Saturday morning we were scheduled to leave the Islands, but my car just wouldn't start, even after some heavy jumping. So, Maureen and I drove into to town to get a battery, came back, only to find that Bobby got it to work by flooring the gas (engine must have flooded somehow). So, we were on our way- a little late. The 11-hour drive through the Adirondack Mtns. was worth every extra hour that we added onto it by getting lost and having to use an old-fashioned paper map to renavigate (Bobby broke our GPS by slamming the end in the glove compartment door, and I refused to borrow his Mom's b/c I think we need to be more self-reliant). We drove around countless little lake towns, and past country homes that looked home-made. We went through the posh little town of Lake Placid that had huge ski jumps that looked like they'd shoot you to the moon and great big Olympic training facilities. The atmosphere changed into a wintery, pristine, nostalgia as we headed into Vermont, which was packed full of little artisan shops and signs boasting "Vermont Maple Syrup". The town of Woodstock charmed me the most, as each house was beautiful looked like it would be occupied by a stately old gentlemen who loves to read a good book and invite you to have some tea or coffee. The only remnant of the hippie-vibe from the well-known festival was one VW van that Bobby spied on the outskirts of town.
Which brings me up to the present....
Maine.
Bobby already lost me once in our 2 bedroom little apartment that sits above a garage in the little city/town of Saco. It's not big, but it is for us. He said that it seems like it will be more difficult to impress people at the Medical Center here because they don't ask as much work from him or have as exotic of cases as in Rochester. Still, the variety of experience that he had in NY already helped establish him a little. So far, we haven't seen too much of Maine yet...just the little roads from here to Portland and to Walmart (where we tried, unsuccessfully, to return the extra car battery). I did, already, buy clams and steam them up myself. Who can resist clams at $3.50/lb and lobster, $5.00/each, at the local farmers market??? Lobster will be my next murder victim. I have to admit that I'm not much of a killer. The mud clams up here have these long blackish/brown necks that stick out of the shells. I prodded each one to make sure they were still alive by watching them withdraw like a turtle in it's shell. But it was tough to see those necks crane out so far when I submerged them into boiling water as they tried to get some air and hold on to life. Bobby's aunt said that she'll never cook lobster again because the last one she boiled let out a high-pitched sort of scream when she put it in the water! agh.
On a similar note, I do really like dissecting things that are already dead. We have cable here, and I've been watching back-to-back episodes of "Dr. G", a lady who examines dead bodies to discover their cause of death. It really is a reminder that God's order of right/wrong is able to be seen everywhere...even in death. When the bodies are opened, many of people's flaws are discovered, even if the outside looks good. So many of the untimely deaths were a result of people's choices. What would your insides say about you if we could see? Some people died just because they just wanted to ignore and dismiss the problems in their body, others were more blatant: alcoholism causing black esophagus or other problems, cocaine leaving holes in noses, plaque build up...etc.
OH...one last thing....Baby Evan was born to Stephen and Angela Stello! Aunt Kara and Uncle Bobby!! I'm so excited to meet the little guy and want to call Angela and Steve allllll the time. Babies, babies, babies!
:)
Have a great week!
Bobby and I were tested when I happened across a 2-carat diamond ring with platinum band on the ground. Probably a once-in-a-lifetime find. I did turn it in to the authorities, and that same day Bobby found out that his application for NY state residency was accepted, which will save us about the equivalent to what that ring was worth!
Saturday morning we were scheduled to leave the Islands, but my car just wouldn't start, even after some heavy jumping. So, Maureen and I drove into to town to get a battery, came back, only to find that Bobby got it to work by flooring the gas (engine must have flooded somehow). So, we were on our way- a little late. The 11-hour drive through the Adirondack Mtns. was worth every extra hour that we added onto it by getting lost and having to use an old-fashioned paper map to renavigate (Bobby broke our GPS by slamming the end in the glove compartment door, and I refused to borrow his Mom's b/c I think we need to be more self-reliant). We drove around countless little lake towns, and past country homes that looked home-made. We went through the posh little town of Lake Placid that had huge ski jumps that looked like they'd shoot you to the moon and great big Olympic training facilities. The atmosphere changed into a wintery, pristine, nostalgia as we headed into Vermont, which was packed full of little artisan shops and signs boasting "Vermont Maple Syrup". The town of Woodstock charmed me the most, as each house was beautiful looked like it would be occupied by a stately old gentlemen who loves to read a good book and invite you to have some tea or coffee. The only remnant of the hippie-vibe from the well-known festival was one VW van that Bobby spied on the outskirts of town.
Which brings me up to the present....
Maine.
Bobby already lost me once in our 2 bedroom little apartment that sits above a garage in the little city/town of Saco. It's not big, but it is for us. He said that it seems like it will be more difficult to impress people at the Medical Center here because they don't ask as much work from him or have as exotic of cases as in Rochester. Still, the variety of experience that he had in NY already helped establish him a little. So far, we haven't seen too much of Maine yet...just the little roads from here to Portland and to Walmart (where we tried, unsuccessfully, to return the extra car battery). I did, already, buy clams and steam them up myself. Who can resist clams at $3.50/lb and lobster, $5.00/each, at the local farmers market??? Lobster will be my next murder victim. I have to admit that I'm not much of a killer. The mud clams up here have these long blackish/brown necks that stick out of the shells. I prodded each one to make sure they were still alive by watching them withdraw like a turtle in it's shell. But it was tough to see those necks crane out so far when I submerged them into boiling water as they tried to get some air and hold on to life. Bobby's aunt said that she'll never cook lobster again because the last one she boiled let out a high-pitched sort of scream when she put it in the water! agh.
On a similar note, I do really like dissecting things that are already dead. We have cable here, and I've been watching back-to-back episodes of "Dr. G", a lady who examines dead bodies to discover their cause of death. It really is a reminder that God's order of right/wrong is able to be seen everywhere...even in death. When the bodies are opened, many of people's flaws are discovered, even if the outside looks good. So many of the untimely deaths were a result of people's choices. What would your insides say about you if we could see? Some people died just because they just wanted to ignore and dismiss the problems in their body, others were more blatant: alcoholism causing black esophagus or other problems, cocaine leaving holes in noses, plaque build up...etc.
OH...one last thing....Baby Evan was born to Stephen and Angela Stello! Aunt Kara and Uncle Bobby!! I'm so excited to meet the little guy and want to call Angela and Steve allllll the time. Babies, babies, babies!
:)
Have a great week!
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