Alternadelegate

I'm the alternate Obama delegate for my tiny little district in Newark, which means that if my friend Josh and the other delegate, Steve, can't go to the state convention, I'll be representin'. And you never know what might happen for the national convention in Denver this summer!

Today's job is less exciting; the dog insists that I hold his bone while he chews it, so I am currently trying to figure out how to type with one hand.

Flower Girl

Poppy likes to approve each of my floral arrangements for class. Here she is with yesterday's corsage and boutonniere, as well as with last week's arrangement, which has held up beautifully.

Arranging Flowers

I decided to go light on the coursework this term, so I'm taking "Flower Arranging for Beginners," and you know, I'm not sure if there's an advanced class, but I'd sure like to take it. Every class I take at UD is "my new favorite class," so this is my new favorite class. :) I made a topiary at the first class, last week, and successfully defended it from the lioness at my house, who thought it was a groovy new cat toy.

Yesterday, I made two arrangements that would go nicely on a tabletop for an event, were the flowers not from the supermarket (he was making a point about quality). One is symmetrical, and one is asymmetrical.

At any rate, The Poppy Communications Brand has now officially expanded. Poppy Cakes, the catering arm, is booked for two events in February, and Poppy Design is available for all of your garden, floral, and even graphic (note: incredibly limited skill set) design needs. Plus, we work for free! Heehee.

Happy New Year

I'm supposed to be participating in a daily January blog-off with my friend Dulcy Gregory, but so far, it's day 9, and I've done nothing.

Here I am to redeem myself to myself. December saw a silver medal on the part of Dazzle, my synchronized figure skating team, pictured above. The same day, Fairfax earned his jacket from Guiding Eyes, and now has service dog privileges most places. He's learning to greet people more calmly and get through a shopping trip without incident. Occasional slips are made; I had to buy a "Barnyard Buddy" at Concord Pet last weekend after he helped himself to the treat bar as I was paying for his dog food and handsome new red collar.

Christmas was spent in Maine, snowshoeing and enjoying my first White Christmas with Superman's family. SuperCute Cousin did a phenomenal job handling Fairfax; she, like her cousin, is a Dog Whisperer, and her cat, Sweetpea, taught Fairfax to lie down when he interacts with cats, which he now does at home.

New Year's was spent, once again, at Longwood Gardens, this time with Superman's brother Dave and a few of our friends. We headed to D.C. on New Year's Day for what was probably only the second day of the year (Christmas being the first) without traffic in the city. We went to the Udvar-Hazy annex to the Air and Space Museum first, then drove into town to see the Natural History and American Indian museums. We attempted to get dinner at our favorite place in Woodley Park, the Lebanese Taverna, but they were closed for New Year's Day, so we headed home through Chevy Chase and Bethesda to have a home-cooked meal.

January has started off well; plenty of work, a flower-arranging class, more ice skating and more puppy classes, and achievable New Year's Resolutions. I am kickboxing at the UD gym twice a week, swimming four days a week, strength training three times a week, ice skating, and walking the dog. I hope to be Bionic by February. :)

Happy 2008!

Rock and Roll Superstar

I met Bob Mould, my punk rock idol, a few weeks ago at a great show he did at World Cafe Life in Philadelphia. We went with neighbor Mike, and not only was the trip up smooth, parking was easy and well-lit, and the venue was hands-down the nicest place I've ever seen live music (although UD's theaters come really close). We had a fantastic dinner and great wine/beer before Bob's Q&A session, watched him do a combination acoustic/electric set (I just get weak in the knees when he busts out that blue Fender Stratacaster), and then enjoyed his new DVD, Circle of Friends. The boys, apparently more aged than I, were chomping at the bit to get home to bed (true, it was a school night, and I do have a more flexible workday), so they dragged me kicking and screaming out of the theater to buy my DVD and have Bob sign it. Not only did he sign it, he shook my hand AND took a picture with me! My life is complete...I met Bob Mould. He has no idea what an inspiration he is to people...not only is his entire body of music lyrically significant and musically unique, but his intelligence as a blogger and speaker really make him stand out as a public figure. Bet you didn't know he wrote the theme song for The Daily Show. Buy his stuff--Husker Du, Sugar, and his solo albums. If you heart punk rock and alt. rock like I do, you won't be sorry.

Rebuilding New Orleans, Two Years After Katrina

While I was in New Orleans for Matt's Soil Science Society of America conference, I had an opportunity: join four other UD folks and the St. Bernard Project (http://www.stbernardproject.org/) to work on a house in St. Bernard Parish. My friend Jen Gilbert, determined that the brain and muscle power attending the conference should be dedicated to a good cause while in New Orleans, had attempted to organize a larger volunteer project in conjunction with the conference. There was a group that volunteered before our UD contingent arrived, but Jen wasn't going to let the opportunity to slip by while she was in the city. She got on message boards several months before the conference, asking which organization people recommended we support. The St. Bernard Project got glowing reviews, so Jen signed us up, rented a van so we could get there from the French Quarter, and reminded everyone what to bring.

On Wednesday, November 7, we left our hotel at 8am and drove to St. Bernard Parish. As the St. Bernard Parish Project explains on its website, the community is adjacent to the Lower Ninth Ward, and 100% of its residences and businesses flooded when the levees failed. As we drove into the area, my heart sank and my throat constricted. Almost every single structure had a huge X on its front, with the National Guard Unit number and date they checked the building. At the bottom was the number of dead found inside the building. We only saw zeros, but of course we all know that there were fatalities.

The Wal-Mart wasn't even open yet, but some businesses were open, and some homes had clearly been rebuilt. Many homes were under construction, FEMA trailers parked in the yard or driveway. But then there were the sadder sites--parking lots right on the main road filled with FEMA trailers, themselves filled with entire families and even pets. Two and a half years after a national disaster, how are people who have worked all their lives still living in trailers?

When we arrived at the office of the St. Bernard Project, we learned that the organization was begun in August 2006 when a couple visiting from Washington, D.C. observed "the overwhelming need for rebuilding assistance" and started the group to rebuild and renovate homes. The organization had a piece of butcher paper on the wall that said 83 families in the community are now back in their homes, and 21 houses are under construction. The organization raises funds for building materials and overhead, recruits volunteers, and builds home. Our UD crew was heartened by the simplicity of the organization.

On Tuesday 11/6, I had read an article in the New York Times about how haphazard and even risky much of the rebuilding in New Orleans is. My take-away was that it's all well and good to talk about how the re-build might have been done, but that should have happened in September of 2005, and plans should have been drawn up immediately, allowing a systematic method of rebuilding and re-homing of survivors. Instead, nothing was done...for two years. I really don't care about some New Urbanist architect's vision of how New Orleans should be rebuilt, unless that person has a plan to make it happen RIGHT NOW. Even as a fledgling landscape designer, I think the residents of St. Bernard Parish should get into their homes ASAP.

Matt and his colleague Brandon, the son of a master electrician, went to the home of a nice Filipino lady who took their pictures (she takes the pictures of all her volunteers, she told them). She told Matt and Brandon that after the flood, she stayed in fifteen shelters before getting home six months later. Another man in the neighborhood, who had served in the U.S. Military and is a retired police officer, told them that he had spent six days on the roof. On the second day, he assured his neighbor that the U.S. Military can deploy anywhere in the world in three days and that they'd be there momentarily. Instead, it was the Canadian Mounties that rescued them, days later.

Jen, her boyfriend Sean, and I went to another home in the neighborhood, that had been re-wired and had plumbing installed. We insulated almost the whole house, a grueling job that can't even compare to what the family has been through. They had already moved some of their things into the house, and the bathroom was even decorated, though it had no walls yet. I found myself choking up as I observed the small refrigerator, bike, and bathroom rug.

A woman from down the street popped in, smiling brightly as she took stock of our work. Cheryl had been on her roof for four days after the flood (she said it took eight minutes for the water to get from her ankles to her chin, and she was swept away by the water, but fortunately climbed onto her neighbor's roof). She and her husband got cholera from diving into the water to try to rescue one of their dogs. She is back in her house, now, after some time in Texas, and always makes sure to tell the volunteers how much the residents love them and that they can come to her house and use the facilities and see her trailer. I asked her about her trailer--did FEMA have a date by which people had to give up their trailers, like the hotel rooms? She said there had been a deadline, yes, "but now, with the formaldehyde issue, they don't care anymore."

At the end of the day, we drove around the neighborhood a bit more, with another volunteer from Brooklyn, NY. Mike, a musician and frequent visitor to New Orleans, came down this time to volunteer for two weeks. "It's not long enough," he said. "I should have come for the month." I understand his feelings. We felt like we should come back the next day. One day was something, but not nearly enough. We have the strength and energy to really make a difference there. I plan to return when Matt attends the American Chemical Society meeting this spring and work every day.

The feelings I came away with were mixed--I have great sadness and empathy for the families who are still living out this tragedy, whether they're back in their home, struggling to re-create the community that is still devastated; in the midst of rebuilding, having to take help from strangers when they've never had to before; living in a FEMA trailer in a parking lot; or in another state, trying to create a life somewhere they didn't ever expect to be. I also felt great hope, as I was waved to by neighbors and thanked by Cheryl. After all this, people have hope. They've come home. Volunteers continue to move to New Orleans to help, or even give just one day. People donate money, two years later.

The thing that hit home the most was that the story I felt I got from media accounts of the events was that the Lower Ninth Ward became a wasteland, and all of New Orleans was desolate, destroyed, and crime-ridden, without hope. In contrast, St. Bernard Parish, arguably the hardest hit, is still the middle-class community it always is, though hard-hit and reeling from the destruction. People are back, they are rebuilding, and they are trying hard to keep their community intact. The story in New Orleans is really one of survival and hope. I encourage those who have the means to get down there to volunteer or to send a donation to any of the wonderful organizations working to help people there to do so. We have the opportunity to help make this right, and we should seize that chance.

A Week in Crescent City

I've been in The Big Easy this week--Superman's entire research group, and much of the College of Ag. and Natural Resources, attended a conference here, and many spouses tagged along. The weather has been lovely, and we're staying at the pleasant Maison Dupuy hotel in the French Quarter.

The area around the New Orleans Convention Center has turned into quite the posh little stomping ground, and the Garden District remains gorgeous and inspiring.

I have also hoofed it around the French Quarter quite a bit, enjoying the historic buildings, European feel, quiet blocks, and pleasantness of morning.

Tuesday, after walking Superman to the conference, I walked along the river, pausing to visit the New Orleans Holocaust Memorial, which was beautiful and innovative. I continued on to Jackson Square, where I visited one of the state museums. My next stop was The 1850 House, followed by a visit to my new favorite cafe, Royal St. Coffee. I attempted to tour another restored house that the NY Times has lauded, but the timing was off, so I returned to the hotel to relax and work a bit.

That evening, we went to a UD/VA Tech mixer and dinner at the original House of Blues with the gang. Who knew, but it's hard to find vegetarian food in New Orleans, so I've eaten a lot of salad and indulged in some treats.

The animals here are a kick--all these very friendly, mellow cats and dogs. There is a Cockatiel around the corner that says "hi" when you walk by, and if you stop and talk to the bird, it will climb up the iron door it sits in and then slide down it! When we clap, it bows for us. It's really cute.

I could live here easily--the more we get out and about, the more friendly people we meet. The climate is so mild and the people so friendly, it's easy to see how badly people wanted to get home after Katrina. Yesterday, we volunteered for the day in St. Bernard Parish, a very meaningful and transformative day for me. I'll write more about it in my next post.

Laissez les bons temps roulez...and carpe diem.

Punkin Chunkin

The annual Punkin Chunkin (that's the WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP Punkin Chunkin to all you rookies out there) took place last weekend. Mary and I entered the baking contest; she baked pumpkin cupcakes and frosted them with cinnamon buttercream, while I baked Susan Carney's pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.

Let's just say I should have worn that themed outfit.

The cookies turned out great, but the baking contest was much more sophisticated than Mary or I had envisioned. People threw it DOWN. We're talking fall tablecloths, real pumpkins, pumpkin confetti, pumpkin plates and napkins--one woman even served her "white chocolate pumpkin hot cocoa" out of a pumpkin soup tureen. Complete with leaf ladle.

"These are things you wish you had right now, but would never use otherwise," I whispered to Mary.

Despite any "points for presentation," Mary won third prize for cakes and desserts, scoring herself a ceramic pumpkin to use next year. I left armed with a plan for next year's decorations, but prize-free. I content myself with the fact that one of the chef-judges gave props to my chocolate chips (organic, from the Co-op). Another judge asked, "what else is in here besides the typical cookie ingredients and pumpkin? I'm detecting another flavor."

"Uh, cinnamon?" I hazarded.

That seemed satisfactory.

The chunkin itself was hilarious. Matt and Dave watched air guns for a while (if a pumpkin explodes upon being shot, everyone shouts, "Pumpkin pie!"), and Mary and I caught the chunkin of the "Yankee Siege" trebouchet (or however you spell that).

It was quite a day. We were all so tired that night that Fairfax put himself to bed during dinner, and Dave crawled in with him.

And another Halloween season comes to a close.

Mum's the Word

I have a ghost on my street...or, more likely a pre-Halloween reveler needed some curb appeal. My chrysanthemum has been kidnapped!

Superman said tentatively over breakfast, "I have some unfortunate news."

"Yes?" I responded, concerned that he'd read something terrible in the news.

"Your mum has been stolen. They left some flowers on the sidewalk." An offering? A diss? A sign from God not to plant annuals? I don't know.

Good thing my Halloween jack-o-lantern pot is safe inside on the sun porch, and good thing I moved my cute pot with flowers and geranium to the back porch!

Passersby will have to be content with the limited curb appeal of my pumpkin lights until tomorrow, when I will be putting new pots out with new flowers.

It's a lovely day here, and I have seen some funny sights...a witch working in the Employee Wellness Center and two women in elaborate costumes walking downtown...seems like the adults are having more fun than the kids are!

Happy Halloween!

Happy Howloween

The Great Pumpkin Bake-Off

Stacie's mom's chocolate chip pumpkin cookie recipe has been accepted for the annual Delaware Punkin Chunkin Bake-Off! I'm entering that, Mary's entering pumpkin bars, and we're working on cupcakes together. We get judged next Saturday, which means we have to be down in the middle of nowhere, DE, by 11 am on a Saturday, with enough pumpkin treats to feed a crowd. Sweet. I'm tempted to wear a themed outfit but will try to restrain myself.

I should add that the Bake-Off is a lesser-known aspect of the one, the only, the annual World Championship Punkin Chunkin: http://www.punkinchunkin.com/

Folks come from all over to watch pumpkins get "chunked" as far and as effectively as possible. More on that when I actually see it.

This month and next feature trips to NYC (yesterday, for a client product event), Huntington, PA (tomorrow), New Orleans (next Sunday, for a few days), Cali (aaah Thanksgiving), and then we stay put until Christmas, when we go to Maine.

Fairfax will be dressing up as a skeleton for Halloween. His best gal pal Peyton is going as a princess. Stay tuned for photos...

It's Fall

The humidity temporarily leaves Delaware these days, and I am psyched. Some warm fall days feel just like the best days in San Francisco. Luxurious.

We traded Fairfax for his brother, Ferris, a few weeks ago, because he needed to go on a "home switch" and get more exposure. He is a thicker version of Fairfax, basically. He snores louder than most humans and is darling, but huge and strong, which means Superman has to muster all his superpowers every time we go on a walk (three times a day, to wear Ferris out). We'll have him again next week, and Fairfax will go to a nice UD student who's new to our group.

Zinnia the stray cat has been spending time in our flowerbed, among the zinnias! Too cute! And the groundhog is also a permanent resident...we keep catching him under cars and in the garage.

In other animal news, Nomad, the newest Guiding Eyes puppy in our region, is about as cute as they come. We think he'll grow into his ears and paws eventually.

Also, SuperCute Cousin has welcomed Sweetpea, a four-year-old black cat that we can't wait to meet. Sweetpea turned five last week. Happy birthday, princess!

I spent Labor Day weekend with Supermom, Superdad, and Superbro in the glorious Green Mountains of southern Vermont--such a treat.

September also featured the Newark Oktoberfest, dinner at The Whip Tavern in Coatesville, PA, "Terror Behind the Walls," a top-rated haunted house at the Eastern State Penintentiary in Philly, and, last week, my discovery of the Newark Reservoir (it only took a year).

Am enjoying my many (yay!) wonderful (yay!) clients and my Landscape Design class, which is my new favorite hobby. Drawing for a few hours a week? Sure!

A Little Light Reading

Why my dog likes Michael Connolly so much, I don't know...

Fairfax Goes Canoeing

We took Fairfax canoeing on the Brandywine River last weekend. He liked being at the front of the boat.

Groundhog Day

I caught the groundhog on camera the other day, and just after photographing him, I got a shot of Zinnia (stray cat adoptee #1). Edgar Allen Poe (stray cat #2) was on the front doorstep (!) the other night but didn't stay for a visit. Unfortunately, I've got some sad news regarding the duck around the corner...we went by to see her last week, and she didn't come out. We looked in the bushes, and all we saw was one abandoned egg. I hope she and the other eggs are OK, but I fear that perhaps a nocturnal critter got her--I hope the critter wasn't human. We're sending her good thoughts and feeling glad that at least our backyard animals are healthy and happy. The possum family hangs out in the holly tree at night...

What I Did on My Summer Vacation

It's been a whirlwind...Cape May...NYC...NY again for the Guiding Eyes for the Blind Regional Conference...now home to the cute pets (oh, and work). I've posted a picture of Cape May, a picture of the baby puppies at the GEB whelping kennels, and a cutie of Fairfax. More to come!

Make Way for Ducklings

Duck update: She's guarding six eggs. That's why she jumps out of the bushes every time Fairfax passes by--she's afraid he's going to steal her eggs. Why she chose foot-deep bushes (not juniper; not sure what they are) in downtown Newark, I'll never know. But now I have to worry that once the ducklings hatch, they're going to be wandering town in search of a pond, vulnerable to the psychotic local drivers, not to mention the cats, possums, and groundhog that live at my house. Come to think of it, why didn't she choose my house? Everyone else does!

I know there's an organization called Tri-State Bird Rescue in town; I suppose I'll call them. Why I feel compelled to be Mrs. Animal Rescue I don't know; perhaps it's the same compulsion that motivates me really fond of police officers. I'm old, I'm no longer particularly cool; I have nothing to lose by trying to make things right in my community. The more pets I get, the more of a soft spot I develop for animals, too.

Good luck, Jemima Puddleduck; we'll be keeping an eye on you.

Why I'll Never Be on the Food Network

Superbro used to say that if a meal had more than three ingredients, I wouldn't be able to cook it. This isn't completely accurate; I can bake, which prepares me well for my destiny as the grandma who bakes cookies and cakes and pies, just like the one in The Gingerbread Man.

However, it is true that I'm completely ADD when I try to prepare anything other than baked goods. The other night, I started sauteeing some squash from our garden, then forgot about it when I moved on to make pesto. The squash burned, so we had to start over. I say "we" because when I screw things up in the kitchen, Superman has to take over and fix dinner. Good thing he likes to cook.

Superman enjoys telling the story of how he used to get home from work and find me cooking dinner in an attempt to make his life easier as he finished his Ph.D. As soon as he walked in the door, however, I would typically greet him, then hand him the spatula and walk away with the phone to call someone, usually Supermom. Superman, in fact, often cooks for our dinner parties, if there's any chance of the food not being table-ready before the guests arrive, because I can't talk and cook at the same time. Something will suffer, and it won't be the conversation.

I also break things--for example, a ramekin and a cute red bowl bit the dust, one after the other, several weeks ago.

I have accepted my limitations. I make a lot of enchiladas, lasagna, and pasta dishes for guests, which have relatively simple ingredients and can be prepped ahead of time, leaving me plenty of time to concentrate on the cooking process and work slowly--so that all the dishes remain intact.

I do make great salads, if I say so myself--often with as many as five ingredients! I *am* the salad queen in our house.

However, clearly, I will never be the star of my own Food Network show. I can't imagine trying to tell people what I'm doing and actually being able to execute it--never mind being engaging and perky! Now, I know that often food is prepped ahead of time on those shows, but even still, I just picture myself starting to talk to the audience, then getting distracted and falling silent, or walking off the set with my spatula to go make a phone call. I am very impressed by Amy, the "gourmet next door" who just won a role as the next new Food Network host. Go Amy...better you than me, sister.

Just Ducky

A duck startled Fairfax and me on our walk this afternoon. Next door to the skate shop, one of the downtown businesses has juniper bushes, and I have seen this particular duck, a female mallard, emerge from them before. However, I certainly didn't think she resided there. Rather, I assumed she had flown to downtown Newark by mistake, from a pond somewhere, perhaps. Apparently, she is a permanent downtown resident. As Fairfax and I strolled past the bushes this afternoon, a major rustling occurred in the foliage. The duck leapt out, hitting me as she did so. I'll admit that I screamed. Then I started laughing. Fairfax and I took a moment to watch the duck. She wandered down Haines street, in front of several cars, who were laughing just like I was. Fairfax didn't seem to find it terribly unusual.

It's definitely Friday the 13th. Either that or God is trying to tell me to become a veterinarian.

In other news, Wonder Dog is up to his usual tricks, sneaking upstairs to steal the cat's toys and play with toilet paper, vacuuming up everything that comes near his mouth, and testing what happens when he hops onto the furniture and gets cozy. We took him to Longwood Gardens last weekend to expose him to a new environment; he loved it. An added bonus was seeing the century plant, which only blooms once and then dies. It's blooming this summer only.

Happy Friday the 13th!

Fireworks

The July 4th fireworks here in Newark, DE, were high-quality. Definitely among the top ten fireworks displays of all time. Which makes me want to make a list, so here we go:

Top Ten Fireworks Displays of All Time

1) Longwood Gardens, Kennett Square, PA, New Year's Eve, 2007. Add thousands of colored lights, the gorgeous conservatory, hot chocolate, sugar cookies, and an array of people having a great time, and you've got the recipe for a great show. The fireworks last about a half hour and are right above the audience. There's hardly anything like it.

2) Shoreline Ampitheater, Mountain View, CA, pretty much any 4th of July. The San Francisco Symphony plays a variety of music, and the fireworks go off above the audience. I've watched it for free outside the ampitheater, too.

3) Coronado, CA, July 4, 1988? I must confess, I like pop songs along with my fireworks display, and San Diego radio had that goin' on. There was a good parade that morning, too, to get us in the Independence Day spirit.

4) Boston, MA, 1999? Again, not sure of the year, but I got to BBQ with BostonErin 7/3 and spent 7/4 on the Esplanade with Wonder Woman and Green Lantern. Don McLean sang. Good times.

5) Lake Tahoe, CA, 2001 (?) from Marta's boat. Why do the years all blur together after you turn 30? Michael Milken shot these off. Proof that you can go to jail for white-collar crime and still be too rich for your own good. At least I got to enjoy a little piece of it...

6) Newark, DE 2007!!! Twenty-five minutes of firework bliss, made even sweeter because we thought they might get rained out. We could see everything perfectly from Kelly and Gina's house on Kells Ave. It was the perfect dessert #2, following a smashing BBQ and epic trifle.

7) Frost Ampitheater, Stanford, CA, July 3, 2005. Superman and I joined legions of Palo Altans to cop a squat on the lawn of the Oval and watch the fireworks for free. We did miss the Preservation Hall Jazz Band, but those fireworks were excellent.

8) View from Los Altos Hills, CA, July 4, 2004. Superman and I met that night (cue violins). He had to leave before the fireworks shows to take someone to the airport. Fortunately, we re-met two weeks later. We could see fireworks from around the Bay Area, very small.

9) Bastille Day 1990, Biarritz, France. I was staying with my host family in their uncle's very hip pad in Biarritz. We were down on the beach after dinner celebrating Bastille Day, and the fireworks were the perfect cap to a unique day in France.

10) "The Neighborhood Dads Firework Show," a real hometown affair, back when fireworks were legal most places. We used to gather the neighborhood and have a block party in front of our house. Every family would bring a box of fireworks, and the dads would set up two ladders and a board. We'd start with sparklers, move on to those snake things, then amp up with a few groundflowers. Things really got going after that. Piccolo Peets, rockets, you name it. Sometimes they'd really go wild and shoot off a pinwheel at the end. One year, a tweaked groundflower leapt off the board and into the crowd. Schoolchildren screamed as the groundflower maniacally burned holes in several beach towels (my pink balloon towel included) before getting doused with water by a savvy mom. I think fireworks became illegal in town soon afterwards, but those were Fourth of July parties to remember.