Satasha Thompson

Soaked to the bone

2010-11-11T20:36:00.004-05:00

The wettest I’ve ever been was the night of my 38th birthday. It was the same day that my husband, parrot, and I moved to our new town. We arrived after dark the day before we were to get the keys to our new home, checked into a hotel room, and headed out for dinner. Our parrot loves to travel in the car but hates hotel rooms, so we took her with us so she could sit in the car.

Dinner was a random selection from the GPS that turned out to be a French / Vietnamese place within walking distance of what would become our new home. Throughout dinner we heard thunder, but by the time we realized it was a serious storm the rain was coming down in torrents and the thunder was loud, fast, and frequent.

We were worried about our little nervous bird. It had already been a long, difficult day for her, so headed out into the rain. At first we had the luxury of dashing from awning to awning, but when we reached the corner of the building there was nothing but open parking lot. My husband took off. He was wearing running shoes and looked like a cheetah as he vanished into a fog of rain. I was in flip flops.

I was already dripping wet, and after stumbling through a few puddles I realized it wasn’t possible to get any wetter. I resigned myself to a slow jog. Life moved in slow motion as I trotted toward the dry zone. I must have been really slow because when I finally got to the car the Cheetah asked why it took me so long. Even the parrot looked confused!

The next morning our wet clothes were still wetter than if they had just come out of the washer!

Running

2009-09-06T19:13:00.000-04:00

OK, remember back when I said I didn’t get into running to race, and "I don’t want to run a marathon…" Well, somewhere between one friend’s challenge, another friend tricking me* into a 7 mile run, and Runner’s World issue, I find myself (Chris included) signed up for and (here’s the surprising part:) looking forward to a half-marathon this fall. I’m still not sure if I’m crazy, stupid, or actually enjoying it. As with all running, it isn’t until I stop running, stretch, and shower that I realize that running is not the most idiotic thing I’ve ever dreamed of doing. So, I’ll let you know my conclusion of the half-marathon somewhere around Thanksgiving. Either way, I’ll be thankful for the holiday. I’ll be thankful that it’s over or thankful that I’ve done it.

*"tricking me" means I forgot my watch and was reliant on my multi-marathon running buddy to give me mileage. We were so busy chatting that I forgot to check the mileage part. Some would argue it wasn’t so much a trick as fate.

Back in school

2009-08-25T19:38:00.000-04:00

Who would have thought that, more than a dozen years after finishing school (the second time), I would be back at it?

This time, I’m testing out the community college scene. It’s hard to say if the curriculum is less challenging at this community college than at a university, but it certainly feels a lot easier. Maybe that’s because it is easier, or maybe it’s because I’m more grown up. (Lower your eyebrow. “More grown up” does not mean “grown up”!)

So, if you’ve been wondering why these postings have been few and far between…thank you for your loyalty to my little musings. It's because, as the old saying goes, “cobbler’s children have no shoes”.

I’m enjoying school. I got started in this as a way to delve into something I’ve been curious about for a long time, and maybe as a way to meet new people in a new place. So far, I’ve learned a lot about web design…

Mosquito

2009-05-08T21:46:00.000-04:00

It happened tonight. I was outside tending my rain-weary pansies when I saw the first one land on my arm. I felt it and thought, “Ah-ha! Got ya!”, and in a very winter-like attitude, I blew hard on my arm to make the mosquito fly away.
Wait. What was I thinking?! By the end of my pansy patch, I had four mosquito bites and was screaming up the stairs for the Cortaid. I think the only thing that made the whole episode worthwhile was when I asked my husband for some help with the one bite that was in a hard-to-reach spot on my back, and he rubbed in the anti-itch cream into the bite for at least 20 seconds. Ah! Now that was sinfully satisfying, yet not something that would have garnered the admonishment of “STOP SCRATCHING!” from a grandmother.
But...aren’t we supposed to see fireflies before mosquitoes?!

Spring has sprung

2009-04-18T21:38:00.000-04:00

In March, the Robins began screaming through the trees in clusters of threes and fours fighting for the hen of their dreams, while subdued Cardinal couples bounced around the forest floor gathering fallen dogwood berries. And plump squirrels scavenged for nuts and twigs as if they, like I, were not convinced winter would ever end.

Spring taunted us. Two days of warmth, ten days of chill…a day of sun, three days of gloom…wind, rain, cold, hot…. The first signs of spring were subtitle, as they always are. Even though it was still cold, the plants knew. A crocus here, a paperwhite there…then a daffodil sprout, bulges on tree branches where leaves wanted out. And then, all at once, spring was announced by an explosion of cherry blossoms, daffodils, tulips, forsythia, pear blossoms, dogwoods, and budding azaleas.

Even so, it wasn’t until today that it really felt like we had broken winter’s grip. It was 77 degrees under a brilliantly blue sky, and the nursery was hopping. I bought my weight in flowers and herbs and spent the rest of the day arched over my gardenette (it really is small), tilling up worms in black soil, brushing aside bugs, and marveling at the prospect of warm summer nights, annoying mosquitoes, and the season’s first firefly.

The much-anticipated spring is here.

The Ides of March

2009-03-14T19:55:00.000-04:00

It’s hard to believe that we’ve been in Virginia for a year now. The time has gone so quickly; it feels like just yesterday I was updating “3,000 miles and a Parrot”, as we drove those last few miles through that long tunnel under the Chesapeake Bay into Virginia Beach. And it feels like just yesterday we were watching the flowers peek out from their winter slumber (daffodils, dogwoods, pears, cherries, azaleas…) in the wonderment of a new world.

A spring, summer, and winter have passed, and I am watching the spring flowers peek out from their winter slumber again. This year, I have endured the winter and can truly appreciate their coming. Dark, morning runs at 20, 9, & 15 degrees; blustery afternoons when the wind bites unprotected ears; and the tease of recent 70-degree Saturdays that fuel my spring fever.

With the Ides of March tomorrow, I know that the tug-of-war between winter and spring will soon be over. March came in like a lion, with 9” of snow on March 1st. I hope it will hold true to proverb and go out like a lamb.

(go back to our site)

Looking back on 2008

2008-12-19T22:28:00.000-05:00

2008 has been a year of change for us. After more than eleven years in San Diego, we moved back across the country this spring.

With Holly’s travel cage belted in the back seat, we set out on a 3,000-mile journey from the Pacific to the Atlantic.

We arrived in Virginia Beach at the bloom of a brilliant spring. Summer reacquainted us with thunderstorms, mosquitoes, fireflies, and warm summer nights. Throughout our time in Virginia Beach, we took several road trips (usually with Holly) to see family, friends, and explore southern towns.

At the end of the summer, we moved to Washington DC, arriving just as the leaves were beginning to change colors. Our neighborhood was designed with many trees, so we were surrounded in autumn color and, eventually, in piles of crunchy leaves.

We’re enjoying the area; there are miles of wooded walking paths, a small lake nearby, and a village center offering everything from a pharmacy and a Moroccan restaurant to a grocery with shelves of Asian chili pastes and Mexican cheeses. To top it all off, a twenty-minute drive gets us into the nation’s capitol. There is so much to explore in 2009!

Here’s a song that looks back on 2008 (to the tune of the Twelve Days of Christmas)…

On the Twelfth day of Christmas, I made this song for you…
Twelve short months passing,
Eleven years of So Cal,
Ten months of East Coast,
Nine days of driving,
Eight family visits,
Seven months of beaches,
Six neighborhood dogs,
Five miles of sand*,
Four new addresses,
Three different homes,
Two vagabonds,
And a green parrot in the back seat

*We ran a five-mile foot race through a course full of obstacles, mud, and deep, soft sand. You can see it’s not your average course and participants get pretty filthy by the end, but it was fun and we took a refreshing dip in the Chesapeake (shoes and all) afterwards.

The Kindness of Strangers

2008-11-25T18:25:00.001-05:00

During Chris’ April 2007 trip to Korea, he discovered Korea’s national dish: Bibimbap. More specifically, he discovered dolsot bibimbap. Words can’t do it justice, but to point you in the right direction, Bibimbap is a bowl of warm rice usually topped with sautéed veggies, gochujang* chili pepper paste, an egg, and thinly sliced meat (usually beef). The dolsot part refers to the hot, stone bowl or pot in which it is served. The stone bowl is so hot that it actually continues to cook the rice so it’s crisp when you get to the bottom. Mmmm…

Chris fell so in love with the dish that he carried home two stone bowls. When I picked up the bowls, I knew he was serious about this new dish. They’re heavy!

Our first attempt to purchase the ingredients for dolsot bibimbap included many of the struggles of grocery shopping in another land. So many of the sauces in the Korean market we visited were in…well, Korean…that we had to ask for help finding the sauce. We couldn’t figure out how to pronounce “gochujang”, so we pointed to it on our list of ingredients. If our eyes had trouble with the Korean version, no doubt the Korean we asked felt the same about our English. Eventually he found someone who spoke enough English to decipher our request and point us to the sauce.

*Gochujang is a fermented soybean paste seasoned with Korean chilies, rice powder and honey. It’s hot, sweet, salty, savory and sour. What could be better! It was love at first taste.

Last weekend, we drove to Annandale to try bibimbap at one of the many Korean restaurants in our new city. Part of our excursion was to also find more stone bowls. We want to expand our dolsot (stone bowl) collection so we can share this dish with our family and friends. We asked our waitress where we might be able to find the bowls. There was much discussion between members of the staff and a neighboring table that we couldn’t understand. And then there was discussion with us that we didn’t understand. In the end, our waitress explained that when we were finished eating, someone would give us the address to a place where we would find many to choose from.

Just as we finished our last bites, the entire staff sat down at a large table and began to eat. It was like a family sitting down to dinner. We hesitated to act like we were done, because we didn’t want to disturb them, but our waitress noticed and brought us the bill. When we had paid she said, “She will show you the way to the place” and pointed to the a woman who had been involved in our bibimbap bowl discussion.

“But she’s eating.” Chris protested.

“I don’t know, maybe she needs to buy something there.” Our waitress assured in broken English.

She lead us to the Seoul Department Store, walked us in, pointed out the bowls, offered her opinion on what was good, and translated the salesman’s tips on caring for the stone. We thanked her, and she disappeared.

She didn’t need to buy anything there. She was just being kind.

Lake Anne

2008-10-14T21:23:00.001-04:00

We just moved to a home near a place called Lake Anne. We knew there was a lake nearby, when we rented the house, because we could see the blue blob on the map. Our expectations ended at water, and maybe a place to launch a canoe.

Our first evening in town (the Tuesday of my birthday), before we even picked up the keys to our new place, we drove by the house to see it again, and then we asked our Garmin for "food". Garmin lead us to a little place the head of Lake Anne. This little place turned out to be an entire village (restaurants, independent groceries, a tax guy, a florist, a pharmacist, some clothing and accessory shops, a chocolatier...even an art gallery).

We were surprised by all the good stuff inside this little plaza and wanted to explore, but Holly was waiting in the car and we were tired, so we stopped at the first restaurant and ordered some food. Before we were finished dining, a storm rolled in: thunder (my favorite), lightening (Holly’s favorite), and rain. Rain like I haven’t seen in years, rain like I hadn’t been in my entire life. But we couldn’t wait; we had to get to our terrified parrot.

There was no chivalrous alternative; we both had to make the torrential run. By the corner of the building, Chris’ sneakers were well ahead of my flip flops. By the time I sunk into the first puddle, I realized that I was as wet as a person could ever be and I still had a parking lot to go, so I slowed to a shuffle. By the time I got near the car, the rain was pouring off my eyelashes with such force I couldn’t see the car, ran several feet beyond it, and had to circle back (Chris thought this was worthy of much teasing).

All was redeemed by the relief on Holly’s face when we were both safely in the car. (OK, for all you non-bird people, think: dog with ears pinned back, tail between his legs…turning into a dog with tail wagging and body wiggling. It’s basically the same thing. Cat-lovers: sorry, try to relate to a dog this time.)

We moved in on a Wednesday and made our second trip to the village center that Saturday to “check out” the farmer’s market. The weather was storybook perfect, and the farmer’s market was more than we expected. We came home with 6 bags full of veggies, meats, apple cider, and fresh goat cheese. Yes, we had just moved and didn’t have any food in the house, but it all looked so good we couldn’t pass it up for grocery store stuff! As a matter of fact, it was so good, we returned the next Saturday for more veggies, apple cider, and some fresh lamb.

The farmer's market ends in two weeks, and we're not sure what winter will bring (except for Santa-on-a-Barge in early December), but Lake Anne is a little gem we didn’t know we were getting when we fell in love with our rental and it make us even happier with our new home.

Here are some visuals to help you out...

It isn't much to look at in this direction (it's 30 years old), but look over here...

Moving

2008-10-06T22:57:00.000-04:00

Lessons Learned...

...About Moving

If you don't want the movers to load it, hide it at the neighbors.
We ended up unpacking several things that belonged to the rental house in Virginia Beach. Luckily, our former landlord was cool about it.
If you want the food in your refrigerator, it's best to load it in the car when you leave.
We left all our condiments, olives, cheeses (even my prized Norwegian goat cheese), Chris' peppers, Mom's zucchini relish etc behind. Hopefully our former landlord found something he could use.

...About New Houses

Just because you can open a door from the inside doesn't mean it's UNLOCKED!
We learned this lesson two hours, a locksmith fee, and a new doorknob later.
Just because there's a light switch, don't expect it to control a light OR a plug outlet.
There are a few I just can't figure out. I think we're turning on the neighbor's disposal.
Gravity makes moving things upstairs really hard.
Moving into a 3-level home isn't easy, especially when it comes to moving stuff to level 3.

Moving

2008-09-28T00:31:00.000-04:00

If you're reading this, you probably already know that we're moving again. We spent the day hauling boxes out of the attic and getting things ready for the movers. Tomorrow will be more of the same. By Wednesday, we'll be in our new home trying to find a place for everything. My back hurts just thinking about it!

It Has Begun

2008-07-15T23:58:00.000-04:00

Our cucumber plants are so prolific right now that we can't keep up, so we gave our neighbor a few on Saturday. Yesterday, Chris’ coworker brought him two tomatoes, and Chris took a cucumber donation to work today. This afternoon, another neighbor gave us some tomatoes and a cucumber from his garden. And just like that, the season of exchanging the overabundance of homegrown vegetables has begun. In the end, I’m not sure any of us will have fewer vegetables than we started out with, but we will have more friends. And isn’t that really the whole purpose of planting vegetables?

My Veggie Garden

2008-07-09T22:14:00.000-04:00

My mom's been bragging about her Earth Boxes for a couple of years. She would tell me how fast her garden was growing and how easy it was to take care of, and sometimes she would even tell me how many inches her plants had grown that week. The rate of growth always seemed a little unbelievable (even though I saw the pictures), until I planted a few Earth Boxes of my own:

June 7 - Planting Day

June 23 (16 days after planting)

July 2 (9 days later)

July 9 (7 days later)

I don't know what to give the cucumbers (middle) to climb on next.

Thugs

2008-06-17T23:54:00.000-04:00

Tonight from my dining room window, I watched a band of thug crows in action. After a few minutes of a Three Stooges-style quarrel over a stolen pecan, Larry jogged over to my vegetable garden containers. Without hesitation, he hopped up on my pepper planter, pecked at and rub on my cherry pepper plant, plucked out the plastic ID marker, paraded around the pot a few times (as if to show his buddies), and then flew away with it. Curley, Moe, and the rest of his band of thugs flew after him, like he had just robbed a convenience store and the first ones back to the tree got the cigarettes.

This is going to be a long summer...

The Firefly

2008-06-04T22:13:00.000-04:00

The first firefly of summer drifted through the twilight this evening.

It brought with it a flood of memories. Memories of warm evenings in my grandmother endless back yard, chasing little yellow flashes until it was so dark that their light was nearly all I could see.

I stood in the silence of my front porch tonight, watching this lone firefly dance through the air. It seemed to whisper “summer is here”, and then vanish into the neighbor’s yard.

All creatures have a purpose. The firefly’s must be to make us smile.

(None of these photos are mine. The last one, the one in the golden light, can be credited to National Geographic, but the others were just out there on Google.)

Rabbits

2008-05-28T21:45:00.000-04:00

We have rabbits.

I had rabbits when I was a kid, but they were of the soft, colorful, caged variety. These are scratched-up, clover-eating brown rabbits that live under the shed in our back yard.

"Peter" is the name for whichever rabbit is in the back yard at the time. It's not original, but it works. Peter is also the name of a specific rabbit. The one with an earring. There is also smaller rabbit with a bum back foot, and a blemish-free, clean-looking rabbit. I call them Paul or Mary, depending on my mood.

Is that an earring?!

We also have neighborhood ducks. The neighborhood ducks are just normal-looking, green-headed ducks, but the lady across the street has a duck I've never seen before.

I don't know what our neighbor calls her duck, but we call it Jimi...as in Jimi Hendrix (maybe in his graying years).

That's the fauna update for my neighborhood, at least until the next visit to my next door neighbor's wildlife park, I mean house!

The Herb Garden

2008-05-24T20:43:00.000-04:00

The Herb Garden: Week 6

The Herb Garden: Week 4

The Herb Garden: Week 2

Holly is supervising the first harvest

The Herb Garden: Week 1

Seems that whenever my mom and stepfather visit, I end up with a new garden. Sometimes I have to do the planting, but they always buy...which makes planting seem like peanuts!

A couple years ago, they bought the plants for a sage garden we'd been wanting. We ended up with about 10 different sages! The garden was our pride and joy...and then we moved across the country and had to leave it behind.

In our new home, we were in sore need of an herb garden (ours went the way of the sage garden)...so they bought us an herb garden. And the pots we needed to house the little garden.

Tornadoes

2008-04-28T20:32:00.000-04:00

Tornadoes struck our area today, killing at least one person and injuring hundreds. Afterwards, we watched the footage on the news, just like after any other disaster. But tonight I looked at the pictures differently, because those black clouds had been outside my own window. I had seen the leaves whip through my backyard in an eerie, counter-clockwise swirl. And I had thought about my emergency plan, while people just 15 miles away were putting theirs into action.

http://hamptonroads.com/2008/04/least-200-injured-tornado-suffolk

The Pink Mouse

2008-04-25T22:26:00.001-04:00

Our San Diego house had a little room we called "Hell's Kitchen", partially because it was lower than the rest of the kitchen, but mostly because its journey from an ill-designed laundry room to a proud kitchen space caused us many headaches. (It all began when the gas line leaked. Then the electrical shorted out. We tore out the walls, rerouted gas, electric, and water; resheetrocked, textured, painted; and then tried to find cabinets that would match the rest of the kitchen. Eventually, it was transformed from a weird laundry space to our much-loved bar/butler's pantry.)

Before Hell's Kitchen was a laundry room, it was the garage, so the foundation and walls weren't clean and finished. Near the doorway into our TV room, the stub wall foundation wasn't square. Where the drywall met the foundation wall, there was a bit of a mouse hole. The rest of the space seemed clean and finished, and then there was this dark cob-weby hole with a little chicken wire visible. I always thought it was a bit of an eye sore, so a couple of Thanksgivings ago, my mom suggested that I put something in there, like a mouse, to make fun of it. We had a few glasses of wine in us, and it was good for a few laughs.

For Christmas that year, we received a funny-looking little pink mouse with a gold bell at the end of its tail and a card that read "maybe it was one too many glasses of wine, but it sounded like a good idea at the time". We thought, for sure, she'd lost it. Maybe she found this little pink rope mouse one evening after one too many glasses of wine or something. I mean, how else could you explain a pink mouse and that note? After a few days of laughing at this mouse, I got up the courage to ask "So, about that mouse?", and I found out that the laugh was on me.

Now we have had so much fun laughing at ourselves for laughing at the mouse, that it has become a central part of our lives. It was important to me that the mouse find a satisfactory hole in our new home. As it turns out, it wasn't all that hard to find. Old homes just have creepy holes that need to be lightened by a little pink mouse.
Thanks, Mom!

Dinner at our house

2008-04-25T22:16:00.000-04:00

We had our first dinner in front of the fireplace the other night.

Lamb stew on TV trays (ok, in a bowl on TV trays).

We've had lots of dinners in our dining room.

I think this was our first.

And even a few in our living room.
Holly eats on a TV tray, too.

As long as wer're talking about our first meals, I should mention the pink mouse. For those of you who know the story of the pink mouse, you'll be happy to know it is brightening a mysterious, creepy hole in our new house.If you don't know the story of the pink mouse, you're not missing out on much. But if you're curious...click here.

The Hawk Flies

2008-04-25T21:42:00.000-04:00

My Hawk flies again...

Before:

After:

Link back to our site

Time Flies!

2008-04-19T21:48:00.000-04:00

We’ve been in our new rental house for two weeks. The time has gone quickly, and most of our free time has been devoted to unpacking and finding the right place for our stuff. Funny things happen when other people do the packing…you get aerosol can lids (no aerosol cans…they can’t be shipped), random bits of string, jars of hot sauce with an eyedropper of contents, and every spare rusty nail that might have been laying about in the garage. Unpacking has been a bit like Christmas, with a sense of humor!

Our rental house is nice, and it reminds us a lot of our home in San Diego ~except that it’s on a very quiet street and the neighbors keep stopping by to say “welcome to the neighborhood”. Spring here has been amazing. It seems like people try to fill their yards with as many spring colors as possible, as if to reward themselves for the long cold winter. (I don’t think winters are that long and cold, but ask me again this time next year!) Just on our block, there are pink, red, purple, and white azaleas; white and pink dogwoods; purple redbud trees; luscious white cherry trees; orange-red tulips; purple irises; and then plane ole trees with colorful green, purple, and red spring foliage.
The bird has been enjoying my new schedule of working from home. I think she feels grown up getting to go into “the office” every day. She likes it so much that she doesn't care if I'm there or not. For example, today (Saturday) she begged to go in...even though I wasn't going there.

Our San Diego house finally rented. We tried hard to rent it to a nice, small family or a young couple, but in the end it rented to three young guys in a rock band. They say they don’t practice late at night and that the band has its own studio for weekly practice, but it sure sounds like a recipe for angry neighbors! We're keeping our fingers crossed.

That's it for now. Things here are good. Summer is coming, and we're excited for warm, mosquito-ridden nights with the top down on the Mustang. Work continues to go well for both of us. Holly, too, if you count the hours she logs "in the office".

We miss you all.

The Sound of Freedom: Week 2

2008-03-19T21:07:00.000-04:00

The Sound of Freedom has been relatively quite this week, possibly due to the turbulently windy days we've had (some with 30-40 mph gusts).

Most of this week has been spent getting into a routine. We started running again, I started back to work, and Chris has been cooking for us every night. There were a few smoke-filled moments earlier in the week as we learned to cook on electric, after 10 years with gas.

For those of you who know Chris well, you won't be surprised to learn that he found a grill near the apartment. Last night we had ribeye and asparagus off the grill. It's not easy cooking on a park grill, but after two weeks of cooking on electric, I think fire made him feel at home.

Monday evening, when I opened the door for Chris, a wide-eyed tabby who seemed to think he lived here burst into our apartment. Holly's never seen a cat in her living room, but it was clear she knew it was something to be concerned about. Luckily she was in her cage, and the tabby was friendly enough to be scooped up quickly. No harm, no fowl. I mean, foul!

After the tabby incident, we visited a house we were interested in renting. It was as close to perfect as our money will get us, so we made a verbal agreement with the owner, and we'll submit our application tonight. It's similar to our San Diego house: three bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms, hardwood floors, and a large backyard. And, now that we think we have a place to live, we can get down to the business of exploring this new region of ours...

The Sound of Freedom: Week 1

2008-03-14T07:50:00.000-04:00

We've been here most of the week, and I'm beginning to get a grasp on a couple of the major routes around town. Don't get me wrong, I still have a map and the Garmin out and ready anytime I leave the apartment. I love GPS! Having the Garmin makes me remember how found my way around San Diego when we first moved there: I circled help wanted ads, wrote down addresses, plotted addresses on the map, decided which order the map dictated I visit them, wrote directions to each place in the most linear fashion...

Other than local roads and how to calm a frenzied parrot, I have learned that I've been spoiled by living in a house my whole life. Here, I need to take my trash to one of the two giant trash compactors on the premises. The closest one is 2/10 mile, round trip (and ours is one of the closest buildings). It's not about the walk; I like to run (ok, I jog, but you get the point). It's about walking 1/10 mile with my garbage!

The weather's been beautiful all week, but it's supposed to rain this weekend; our official welcome to the east. I think my favorite part so far is that we made it just in time for the break of spring. There are trees full of white blossoms and baby leaves, and there are golden daffodils everywhere!
We're getting settled in the apartment. It's comfortable and quiet, except for the Navy jets taking off from the nearby Naval Air Station. Apparently, Chris read my shock (at the noise) when the first one flew over Monday evening, and he cheerfully exclaimed, "That's the sound of freedom"!

Holly doesn't appear to be bothered by the Sound of Freedom. She watches the seagulls flying overhead, but it seems that jets aren't something a parrot needs to worry about. She likes to look out the window to inspect the resident mallard and plump red-breasted robins in the grass below, and she's very curious about the apartment. I carry her from room to room (there are only 2), so she can investigate her new surroundings. It's magical to watch her eyes brighten with curiosity. I'm convinced that cat owners beat parrot owners to the curiosity quote ("...killed the cat"). Parrots are intensely curious creatures!

Satartia

2008-03-14T07:01:00.001-04:00

A little more from Satartia, Mississippi Satartia Post Office

Video of Hwy 3 into Satartia

The general store in Satartia

An old house at the edge of town

A few (other) pictures from our drive into the delta

(Illustrated) 3000 miles and a parrot

2008-03-12T17:40:00.000-04:00

The moving vans pulled out of the driveway around 2 pm on Saturday. We finished cleaning the house, ran a few errands, loaded the car, and hit the road.

(Holly took the trip well)

We spent our first night in Yuma in a spruced-up, '60's-style roadside motel call Best Western. The room was way too small for two adults and a parrot, but it was comfy and clean.

(The famous saguaro cactus ~somewhere in Arizona)

We spent Sunday on the road in a giant dust storm. The winds made our '07 Mazda whistle like an old VW bus. We made it to El Paso feeling a little gritty and exhausted from dodging flying cardboard boxes and suicidal tumbleweeds.

(I'm still finding dust in the crevasses of my car!)

(suicidal tumbleweed, but not the 4' one that attacked the car)

We drove across desolate west Texas in more strong winds and blowing snow on Monday. Fortunately, there was no sand...just snow and hail. The scenery was more exciting that I expected. There are spectacular mountains that extend hours east of El Paso, and there was snow over much of the higher elevations of west Texas.

(snow & sleet in west Texas)

(probably the Sierra Juarez range, striped with snow)

We arrived in San Antonio in time for a hearty spaghetti dinner with family. We'll spend a few days here, before continuing eastward again...

(my brother and sister)

. . .

...We spent two warm, sunny days in San Antonio with family, and then began our travels again by driving northeast through Texas on back roads. The small towns passed the time quickly, and I never knew there were so many different shapes of cows! After a BBQ stop in Nacogdoches, Texas (all those cows must have slipped into our subconscious), we picked up the interstate in Louisiana and headed toward our day's destination (Jackson, Mississippi).

We spent another wonderful evening with family in Jackson and hit the road Friday morning under the threat of snow. Good sense told us to beat a path to Memphis -or beyond. But we had been looking forward to spending this day in the Mississippi delta and so, after giving the winter storm warning careful consideration, we made a back-up plan and headed for the delta anyway.

Our first stop was Satartia ~pronounced "Satasha" (yes, this is where I get my name). Satartia is a very small town along the Yazoo River; downtown has a cotton gin and a small general store. There are a couple small churches and some scattered houses on the wooded approach to town. After passing the cotton gin, the road curves, crosses the Yazoo River, and flattens out into the agricultural fields of the delta.

(The general store in Satartia)

(This sign used to hang in the question mark-shaped holder in the picture above)

For lunch, we happened upon a great meal of cornbread, fried okra and catfish. While we were eating, it began to sleet, so we hurried the rest of our day…as much as one can hurry in the delta. We followed the main delta routes in the snow, directly to Memphis. The rarity of snow in Mississippi kept most people indoors this day, and the snow added a hazy layer of gray over the barren winter fields, making them appear desolate and cold.

(The Mississippi Delta in winter)

We reached Memphis without any trouble, but it soon became clear we wouldn't leave until Mother Nature cleared the roads. We found a restaurant within walking-in-the-wind-and-snow distance from our hotel.

(Snow outside of our hotel room)

(The snow is license plate deep!)

By mid-morning, the main roads were clear enough to meet an old friend for breakfast, wash off the 5" of snow from the car, and hit the road. We spent the next two nights enjoying great food and conversation with San Diego friends who have just moved to the mountains of Virginia.

(Fun with friends!)

(Man, it's cold out here!)

We arrived in Virginia Beach around 3:30 Monday afternoon, unloaded the car, and headed for our favorite crab cake dinner (crab cakes and broccoli, with an appetizer of broccoli and crab soup).

(One of the tunnels coming into the city)

************
We already miss San Diego...

(San Diego)

...but we're excited about our opportunity here.

We'll keep you posted.

Link back to our website

We have arrived!

2008-03-11T12:15:00.000-04:00

The last week has gone quickly, but we've enjoyed the journey and have just about settled into our tiny apartment. Since I last wrote, we've traveled from San Antonio to Virginia Beach and seen all the family, friends, and bad weather we could catch along the way.

We spent two warm, sunny days in San Antonio with family, and then began our travels again by driving northeast through Texas on back roads. The small towns passed the time quickly, and I never knew there were so many different shapes of cows! After a BBQ stop in Nacogdoches, Texas (all those cows must have slipped into our subconscious), we picked up the interstate in Louisiana and headed toward our day's destination (Jackson, Mississippi).

We spent a wonderful evening with family in Jackson and hit the road Friday morning under the threat of snow. Good sense told us to beat a path to Memphis -or beyond. But we had been looking forward to spending this day in the Mississippi delta and, after giving the winter storm warning careful consideration, we made a just-in-case plan and headed for the delta.

Our first stop was Satartia ~pronounced "Satasha" (yes, this is where I get my name). Satartia is a very small town along the Yazoo River; downtown has a cotton gin and a small general store. There are a couple small churches and some scattered houses on the wooded approach to town. After passing the cotton gin, the road curves, crosses the Yazoo River, and flattens out into the agricultural fields of the delta.

For lunch, we happened upon a great meal of cornbread, fried okra and catfish. While we were eating, it began to sleet, so we hurried the rest of our day…as much as one can hurry in the delta. We followed the main delta routes in the snow, directly to Memphis. The rarity of snow in Mississippi kept most people indoors this day, and the snow added a hazy layer of gray over the barren winter fields, making them appear desolate and cold.

We reached Memphis without any trouble, but it soon became clear we wouldn't leave until Mother Nature cleared the roads. We found a restaurant within walking-in-the-wind-and-snow distance from our hotel. By mid-morning, the main roads were clear enough to meet an old friend for breakfast, wash off the 5" of snow from the car, and hit the road. We spent the next two nights enjoying great food and conversation with San Diego friends who have just moved to the mountains of Virginia.

We arrived in our new city around 3:30 Monday afternoon, unloaded the car, and headed for our favorite crab cake dinner. Today, our "new" life begins...

3000 miles and a parrot

2008-03-06T11:19:00.000-05:00

Moving across country...

The moving vans pulled out of the driveway around 2 pm on Saturday. We finished cleaning the house, ran a few errands, loaded the car, and hit the road. We spent our first night in Yuma in a spruced-up, '60's-style roadside motel call Best Western. The room was way too small for two adults and a parrot, but it was comfy and clean.

We spent Sunday on the road in a giant dust storm. The winds made our '07 Mazda whistle like an old VW bus. We made it to El Paso feeling a little gritty and exhausted from dodging flying cardboard boxes and suicidal tumbleweeds.

We drove across desolate west Texas in more strong winds and blowing snow on Monday. Fortunately, there was no sand...just snow and hail. The scenery was more exciting that I expected. There are spectacular mountains that extend hours east of El Paso, and there was snow over much of the higher elevations of west Texas. We arrived in San Antonio in time for a hearty spaghetti dinner with family. We'll spend a few days here, before continuing eastward again.

Holly has been a trooper. She even managed to hold on to her perch twice during heavy braking (once for a cardboard box and once for a car). She doesn't like riding at night, but appears happy during the day.

We'll be in touch again as we make our way across the east...

Rude Awakening #8576

2008-01-19T01:28:00.001-05:00

Rude Awakening #8576: I am not cool.

About six months ago, my uncle sent me an invitation to join Facebook. Of course I’ve heard of Facebook…NPR did a story on it a year or so ago when it’s creators sold it ~or were talking about selling it.

And then, two days ago, an old friend emailed, and in her closing wrote: “Oh, give me your BLOG ADDRESS!!!” OK. At least I have a blog address, but I don’t write in it enough to let other people know about it!

And to top it all off…yesterday, I received an invitation from a friend to join Facebook. Remembering my uncle’s neglected request, I registered, found my friend, sent her a quick message, and looked for my uncle. No luck.

This morning I checked my email before hopping into the shower and had a reply from the message I sent my friend on Facebook. I got in the shower thinking, “I am so uncool. I don’t have a MySpace account, I just registered with Facebook, and my blog is pitiful.”

So, tonight, I updated my web site, and I’m writing this blog entry about how skimpy my blog is.

Running

2007-06-23T13:04:00.000-04:00

We’ve been running together now for about a year. I got into running as a way to get thirty minutes of physical activity three to five times a week. I didn’t get into it to race; I don’t want to run a marathon, and I don’t care how fast I am.

For the first nine months or so, I really hated running…at least, right up until the point that the running stopped, and I caught my breath. And it is that feeling that gets me up before dawn to do it again tomorrow. That, and as the days get longer I am rewarded with a postcard view: the dawn sky glowing sapphire and green, increasingly distinguishing itself from the black of the mountains to the east.

Somewhere around month nine, we started gearing up for the World Famous Camp Pendleton Mud Run. My husband was signed up, and he wanted me to join him if a spot became available. The Mud Run is a 10K through the muddy obstacle course of the Camp Pendleton Marine Base. I was not interested. I didn’t like the idea of mud in my shoes and shorts.

To get him ready (and me too, he kept insisting), we challenged ourselves to hilly long-distance runs. I was surprised to find that I enjoyed these runs, and before long I had comfortably surpassed the mileage I’d have to run in the Mud Run. I still wasn’t interested. Then one morning, word came in that someone had dropped off the team and I could join. After months of resisting, I was overcome with excitement. I questioned it, slept on it, tried to resist some more, and finally gave in. It was done. My check was mailed, and my t-shirt was ordered.

Then my running partner pulled a muscle and had to stop running. He assured me he’d still run on race day, but he didn’t plan to run again before that day. I knew he could sit out for two weeks and still power through the run, but I was worried I’d wimp out along the course, if I didn’t keep working. So, I ran…alone for most of the next two weeks.

Race day came, and I was still excited. Is something wrong with me? Why am I excited about running 6.2 miles, scaling climbing walls, wading (or crawling) through mud pits, streams, and a lake, trudging through soft sand, jumping hay bales, crawling through a culvert, and stepping through a tire obstacle? I still don’t know why I was excited, but it was more fun than I could have imagined, and I can’t wait to do it again. And yes, I still don’t like mud in my shoes and shorts.

This morning, I ran a 5K with some coworkers. It was my first official “race”. (The Mud Run is, well, mainly about getting muddy.) I decided to go into today’s run with the mindset that I was out for a morning jog with a bunch of people.

What an experience to be on the road with a hundred or more runners, joggers, and walkers (dogs & kids included). There were traffic cones, angry drivers screaming about blocked intersections, and motorcycle police directing traffic ~and us. And then there was the finish line. Wait. My morning runs do not have a big blue FINISH banner; I just run to a crossroad or a local landmark like the dog up the street.

Suddenly, it was no longer just a morning jog with a bunch of strangers and a few coworkers. A big time clock under the FINISH banner ticked off the seconds as I approached, and it made me run faster to beat some imaginary time. Strangers were cheering for me, and there was music and food. I took fliers for upcoming races and read them to see which ones we might fit into our schedule. Maybe I do like this race thing after all.

See pictures of us from the Mud Run

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Welcome to spring

2007-03-23T23:57:00.000-04:00

It took years of living in (what most call) the land of eternal summer to recognize the subtle indications of spring. Now that I recognize it, it seems as obvious as the first purple Crocus breaking through the snow.

It begins about the same way every year. We have a week or two of gloomy skies just before the time change (even this year when the time change moved); and then one morning, the clouds break, the sky is brilliant, and the morning air is soft. Within a week, rose leaves spring from their woody stumps, baby leaves illuminate the backyard trees, and the gardens begin to grow again…even this year, when freezing temperatures leveled many of my beloved plants.

We exchange the small room heater in our bedroom for a box fan, and we leave the windows open late into the evening because the air feels good, not because we seared a steak without the exhaust fan on. It’s subtle, but it all happens within weeks.

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Rain in the desert

2007-02-11T20:19:00.000-05:00

"Rain" in the desert is usually just a drizzle by most other regions' standards. It doesn't come often so, when it does, we celebrate. Everyone celebrates in his or her own way. Some celebrate by complaining about the weather, a luxury we don't often get in Southern California. Today, I celebrated by staying in, drinking hot chocolate, and cooking a few weeks' worth of parrot breakfasts. Rainy days are one of the few occasions where staying inside seems acceptable, when you live in paradise.

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It’s freezing out here! Literally.

2007-01-15T19:15:00.000-05:00

Last night, for the second night in a row, temperatures dipped into the upper 20s. Snow flurries were reported in El Cajon and other parts of the we’ve-never-seen-snow-before sections of San Diego County three days ago.

My garden sprinklers went off at 4 am today, and by 6:15 when I left for work, the sidewalk was coated in a bubbly sheet of ice. My plants? Well, they looked like I employed the same tactics as the citrus growers.

Tonight, my garden is full of little ghosts. Sheets and towels cover everything that proved itself not hardy enough for sub-freezing nights. These ghosts are almost symbolic of the loss of life I fear in my beloved gardens.

It feels silly to say I’m attached to a plant, but I am a sentimental person and many of my plants have sentimental meaning. Like the pot-bound, waterlogged Jade we rescued from the back yard. It was finally making a comeback.

And the Aeonium clipping from our last home that had grown (exponentially) into a mounded knee-high pile of green. Today, they look like a pile of cooked collards. Or the Costa Rican sage my mother and I planted just last summer to cover the ugly shed in the back yard. It had reached a proud 4 feet and was a nice distraction from the rusting, faded, metal building. Today it is just a stalk of withered leaves.

And, the Giant Bird of Paradise Chris lovingly bought me to soothe my disappointment after someone stole mine right out of the garden of our last home. Now, the black-brown leaves drooping from the stalk look more like a vulture warming itself in the desert. The list goes on, and so does the cold.

I covered everything I thought couldn’t take it another night, and I apologized to the rest. I hope my little symbolic ghosts turn out to be just that…symbolic. In the mean time, Holly and I have snuggled in for a long winter’s night. San Diego-style.

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Super Bowl XXXVII: Raiders vs. Buccaneers

2003-01-22T21:26:00.004-05:00

On my walk into work each morning for the past week, I have watched the progression of "Super City" sprout from parking lots, the back of trailers, and seemingly nowhere. Old beer umbrellas on sidewalk cafes have silently been replaced with new ones, fresh flowers have been planted, buffet tables set up, shuttle vans appear in front of hotels, and a dirt construction lot paved, fenced, and converted into the NFL Experience. The parking lot I cut through to get to work each day has been fenced off. There's a big, brown, puffy, air-filled XBox tent; food and drink stands; and a giant stage in there now.

The streets of the Gaslamp District are teaming with life...fans, residents, news media, football stars, football families, bright lights, signs, and T-shirt shops. Without exaggeration, every store (in the 8-block walk between my parking garage and work) that normally sells anything other than food has moved their normal inventory aside to make room for Super Bowl XXXVII, Raiders, and Buccaneers T-shirts, ball caps, tank tops, sweat shirts, sweaters, jackets, shot glasses, beads, posters, mugs, stuffed bears, footballs, bumper stickers, and flags. This even includes the wig shop, an art gallery, and a few previously-boarded up warehouses. The "Wine Bank" has resisted the T-shirt frenzy, although they have moved their champagne up front! Le Travel Store is not participating in the Roman numeral sell-a-thon, except that we have moved our "Raiders map of Oakland" and a Tampa guidebook up front to show our support.

Downtown San Diego is looking her best. The sidewalks have been steam-cleaned, manhole covers painted, Raider- and Buccaneer-colored balloons decorate bars and restaurants, and the Marriott --down by the bay-- is sporting a 30-floor banner welcoming the Super Bowl to San Diego. Bright halogen lamps dance blue, green, yellow, and white lights across the sky at night; and the main street of the Gaslamp District, Fifth Avenue, has large white gates every block with directions to beer, food, festivities, and, of course, a list of corporate sponsors.

And that's only a 16-block section of the city --and a few out-lying parking lots. The Bud Bowl (what would football be without the Bud Bowl!) is bringing food, music, and, of course, beer to the beach areas; and the stadium has had it's own hectic schedule of meet-the-press --and, probably a little football.

There is a HUGE fireworks show scheduled for Saturday night. The promoters haven't (yet) called it the biggest one on earth --ever, but they are letting us know to expect a dazzling show. They'll be setting the fireworks off for 30 minutes from barges in the bay --I guess they figured the smoke wouldn't clear by kick off Sunday, if they did it any closer to the stadium! We have dinner reservations with friends from out of town at a restaurant on the waterfront. We're hoping for a front row seat to the show.

As for the whole reason for this hoopla (oh yeah, the game!), may your team win (since our team didn't make it), and may all the commercials be worth the wait.

Happy Football!