Casting shadows in the light.

Look what I bought for the courtyard! They were made by Lisa Furner of Mariposa Avenue in Salt Lake City. They are number 10 recycled food cans in which she cuts holes and are then powder-coated. Mine are in a rich bronze color and cast a beautiful patterned shadow on the wall when its dark.

Pedro gives update on Courtyard.

Dilemma.

Writing a blog presents one with a whole new set of questions. Why do I write? Does anyone out there read my blog? Is everyone out there reading my blog? Also the people who I don't want to read my blog?
Did my friends really mean it when they said, we know nothing about your life? Why don't I write them letters anymore? Am I the only one I know who doesn't watch TV and so has time to write? What do I write about?

"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing." Ben Franklin

My answer lies in the above.

Since I have started writing my blog I feel far more connected to the people I know. I enjoy sharing the perhaps insignificant things that are important to me. I have a need to communicate and even this one way exchange allows me to experience my life differently. Not in a deep way, but it is still meaningful enough to give an enhanced pleasure in the things that make up the fabric of my day to day life. The writing inspires me to do things that are perhaps worth writing about.

I have dreams and aspirations to fulfill, interests, travels, hobbies, books, music to experience so that I can share what impresses, astounds, amazes and stirs me.

I hope you stay with me on this incredible journey called 'life'.

(Photo: A little Platespinner and Table Mountain, Cape Province)

Frances wins the California Staffing Professional 2008 Award.

You can believe that I am as proud as punch that Frances, our El Centro Branch Manager has been awarded the California Staffing Professional of the Year 2008 for Southern California. Everyone who knew about her nomination and that she was the winner (including Erik, her husband) managed to keep it a secret from Frances. When her picture came up on the large screen, Frances blinked, realized what was happening and gave me a little slap on my arm. As she stood in front of the audience holding her trophy some hoots of joy and shouts of victory caught her attention. The little group in the back making a lot of noise were Judie and Nydia, two of her staff members, Rosie, Kristy and Marco from Head Office and of course, Erik her husband.

Frances and I stayed for the rest of the convention and had a really nice evening at our hotel, the Hilton Resort in San Diego. The Austrian chef of the restaurant served the most delicious dishes and we had a perfect view on Mission Bay while we watched the fireworks. ate and chatted (we are both very good at that).

Jungle drums.

On my way up to visit with J&M&F last week, at around 9, I decided to find a hotel. The trip takes 10 to 12 hours of steady driving depending on traffic in Los Angeles. If I zip through L.A. then I shave off an hour or so of driving-time. As most of those around me know, I am not fussy about hotels. Actually I seem to have a preference for cheap ones, especially when all I am doing is going from A to B. I need a bed and a shower and all they need to be is clean, that's it! I can put up with clanking plumbing, fuzzy T.V. sets and even turn a blind eye to a lost cucaracha as long as it does not get too close. I have slept in too many evil little rooms on my travels not to consider Motel 6 as quite luxurious.

I asked for a single on the ground-floor at the desk and the gentleman informed me that he only had a double with two beds at $ 75.00. I asked what a single would cost and he said, "$65.00". I raised my eyebrows and said, "I am not paying $10.00 for a bed I won't sleep in. Are there any other motels around? I am heading North". He bobbed his head, didn't look happy and told me about Motel 6 just a few miles away.

As I opened the door of Motel 6 the delicious smell of curry wafted its way to my nostrils. I asked for a single and the young man said that he only had doubles available but he would give me one at the price of a single. Good enough. He was friendly as he went through the motions of the paperwork, and said, "You have a preference for ground-floor", nodding his head from side to side.

It made me smile and he smiled back. The jungle drums had already announced my arrival.

Chalk & Cheese.

Although I would never admit it, my mother is always right. No let me change that to 'often right' because otherwise I am setting myself up for trouble.

We are as different as chalk and cheese. She always practical and I more with my head in the clouds, looking down to see my mama with a firm grip on my ankles preventing me from floating too far away from reality.

'What your eyes can see, your hands can make' she would say, as she made a tent for 4 people so that we could go camping.

My mother is precise, I am far more slapdash.

She taught me to be prudent but not afraid, to wear flip-flops in hotels, not to sit on unfamiliar toilet seats, to pack light, to be aware of what is going on around me and to take care of my money, but she also taught me to enjoy the freedom of seeing new places and meeting new people.

'I want to email you, show me how', and she mastered the computer in her late 70's when I moved to the U.S.

She taught me that it's okay to relax on Sunday mornings in my pyjamas, and that good books should be a regular pleasure. She taught me how to crochet, knit, embroider, sew and re-use things that others just throw away.

'Grandma Moses did it, so it's not impossible' and off she went to drawing and painting classes at 74.

She taught me never to let her cut my hair. She could be ruthless with my bangs. She taught me that jealousy is not worthwhile because you are not going to get something by being jealous. That most tears are tears of self-pity and to dry them and move on. That change in life is inevitable, so accept change and make the best of it. Try something new, you might like it.

'Tomorrow everything can be different', she often says and so true. Everything looks different when it has settled for a while and I add my own wisdom, 'things look different after you have eaten'.

She taught me to make great soup, and that a house without plants and flowers looks like you will be moving out soon. I would never know how to make a fire outdoors, if my mother had not shown me. She showed me too, what it means to be business-savvy and that a woman can be an entrepreneur too.

Being chalk and cheese, we do not always see eye to eye and a couple of years ago when visiting my mother, we decided to take a road trip for a week or so. This particular day we were tired and my mother was already finished eating after the first course, which turned out to be a complete meal for her. It upset her that she would have to return the second plate untouched and was definitely not happy about this. We sat in silence for a while each contemplating where else one could be but here, when my mother took a sip from her mineral water.

Now I need to tell you that in Holland they often serve mineral water in very high and slim glasses.

As my mother put down her glass, the suction in the glass cause the water to drop back suddenly and an enormous drop of water erupted out of the glass and into her eye. For a second she stared at me with one eye closed and the other bright blue, twinkling with amazed mirth and then we both collapsed in a fit of the giggles. We could not stop. Every time we looked at each other we would start again and even a semblance of composure was impossible. After a while the chef peeked out of the kitchen and smiled while my mother and I doubled up again, with tears running down our cheeks, laughing helplessly.

Large wasp on Milkweed.

It looks like my mail won't be delivered the next couple of weeks. Twice a year my Milkweed plant is visited by rather large wasps. I have never experienced any problem with them and I have made pictures of them and get really close. They look scary I suppose if you are afraid of insects but all they do is drink the nectar and fly around the plant. The lady who delivers my mail said that I should have them exterminated. I opted to have to pick up my mail at the Post Office for a couple of weeks.

The entrance and enclosure.

Courtyard shaping up nicely.

The Courtyard Phase 3

It is going so quickly. Plants out, cement in. It looks much bigger than I thought it would be.

Courtyard Phase 2

No more turning back. I love the curve Azarias has made and we all agree that because of the mature trees the courtyard will look good.

The Making of the Courtyard Starts

They have started breaking up the cement for the courtyard. This picture was taken through the window. I wanted to make sure my toes didn't get in the way.

Moonie over your hammies.

Girls. Atlas Mountains, Morocco

Shopfront in Sidi Rabat, Morocco

Entrance to Mosque. Morocco

Our travels in Morocco stay with me still. I am starting one of my largest projects yet. I will build an inner courtyard at the front of my house. The many elements of northern African life return in the Mexican culture thanks to the Spanish Conquistadors. That is one tiny postive aspect of cruel colonization. I intend to incorporate the colors that both cultures use with such delicious abandon and the shapes of Arabia and transplant them to the Sonoran desert.

Melon market. Rissani, Morocco

Taking a breather. Fez, Morocco

Bored in the Oasis. Meski, Morocco

Where is she going? Morocco

Boy in Atlas Mountains, Morocco

Frozen Fountain

My fountain still is not finished. When we first moved into the house almost 12 years ago (!) I could just see this fountain by the front porch. A Mexican fountain, like the ones I had seen in Oaxaca. Large as a bathtub and tiled with azulejos of blue. Several years ago I started building one with the help of Camilo, my Sancho Panza. We seldom agree on anything, and especially not on what we consider a straight line. Camilo has some difficulty with his right eye, although he will not admit this, certainly not to me, but he had to agree that the rectangular foundation we had planned had come out as a slab of cement in the form of a trapezium. Not to worry, it adds to the charm and gives it all an organic touch. I like the word 'organic', it covers up a lot of my not so successful endeavours. Since then I have made a mosaic on the fountain out of small glass tiles, a painstaking process that can only be done if I work at least 4 hours in one go or else the glue doesn't set the tiles as I intended. Before the Summer heat sets in (it's already 30 degrees most days) I have to have the fountain finished and have posted the final result on this page.

Rocket Dog

No more teething problems. Athena has developed into a Rocket Dog. When I let her out off-leash at night, and I call her, I can hear the thump-thump-thump as if there was a racehorse coming at me at full speed. As the sound gets louder, I hold my breath and wait because in a split second a low flying rocket will speed by close enough for me to feel the air as it passes.

Athena

Sometimes I get it all wrong. Never was a dog person until I decided to buy a puppy from under a tree. Later I read that one should never do that. Sometimes others get it all wrong. Athena has added so much to my life, never before have I scooped poop, now a daily task or filled in holes just where I don't want a plant. I know all about kibbles and teething rings. Not that Athena needed teething rings because shoes, expensive dog beds, wooden sculptures brought home carefully from trips to Africa and anything else that happened to be within reach would do. She really wasn't too particular about her chew toys.

Small world, long arms.

Recently, when updating my email address and letting my family, friends and contacts know, I realized how many people are in my life and how little they know about it. I don't particularly want to put all my business out on the internet but I thought that perhaps a blog, for those who are interested in my work, ideas and opinions might be a way to connect to the people who are important to me. When I say 'work' I really mean my photography, writing, silversmithing and most of all the additions I make to my home. I have no fear of wielding hammer and power tool, though I admit I have stayed away from saws that have a cord attached. I remember only too vividly when I first found myself having to face home-improvement projects on my own. Two cats were telling me that I needed to put a cat-door in. Now wood I understand so I thought lightly of the job, not realizing that the door was reinforced with metal. Of course I didn't remove the door from it's hinges. The tears I shed while attempting to cut a somewhat square hole in the door could fill a bucket. I never thought that if I was unable to do it, I could ultimately just buy a new door. To my amazement the cat-door fit and hid the jagged edges of my handiwork. It looked just fine, and I dried my eyes and picked up the 14 broken saws and went on with my life.