Men at work

No, these guys are not learning how to crawl, mining for loose change or praying to "the one and only God". Year-end repairs and improvements have been going on for the past weeks in the complex and these are the hard-working construction workers who are rebuilding what they have just been told to demolish!

These men must have one of the most challenging jobs – imagine if you screw up laying the bricks and realize it after the cement has settled? You’re dead, break it up and start all over again or finish with stucco? Despite all the barricade and caution signs, paw prints and footprints would have permanently decorated our sidewalks if they didn’t fix it in time. I’ll stick to crocheting or knitting. If I mess up, one tug and the whole sweater is undone, yet I get to reuse the same yarn.

My neighbor Philip has ushered me to the male-dominated world of construction, not Lego blocks or Erector sets, but that field where some of the terminology I can’t even pronounce. Philip knows his fascia, overhang, lintel, expansion joints and that sort of thing which I try to learn thru his “show and tell” teaching method. Yesterday, we walked over (he actually bribed me with some pastries from the bakeshop of his girlfriend Susan) to one of the construction sites in the complex, where everything to me looks like cement, bricks, limestone and debris from the demolition. I'm thinking our poor lawn suffered much from being trampled on. In details he explained the purpose of this and that, making sure I understand that it is “slurry” not “silly putty” and you say “gauge” not “thickness”.

If you knew Philip you can guess how long we were standing in front of all this mess, admiring how straight the lines are, the pitch just perfect for water drainage and all that jazz; then just like a nutty professor he summarizes what was said to reinforce everything. He’s one compulsive lecturer, nothing wrong with that, he’s very smart, but I’ll freeze my butt if he doesn’t get to the point quick! I just realized the word “pitch” can mean so many different things, look it up if you don’t trust me, and if you already knew this, then my excuse is hey, English is not my mother tongue, so shush! I doubt if I can do better in my native language.

If he’s looking to me to inspect this project while he is at work, he’s in for disappointment, all I can promise to do is ask stupid questions or take lousy pictures of the wreckage. No one expects me to do this; I’m just a volunteer here but I’m sure my brother would be so impressed if he hears me using these big words Philip taught me.

What have I learned from all these? First, hats off to all mason workers - their job is not a piece of cake. Secondly, Philip knows his stuff and is an excellent teacher. So long as he doesn’t make me climb the roof to learn all about "pitch" and "pond", we shall remain good friends.

O'Cello

Ignore the post date, this took place on Friday, October 3rd.

The scene was the shuttle station from Grand Central to Times Square. Rose, Chong & I just left the Grand Central area where Ped treated us to huge bowls of sizzling hot Peking duck soup. Three pieces of shu mai, noodles , strips of bok choy leaves and what looked like quarter of a duck swimming in a tasty broth (I'm sure MSG-rich) filled our hungry tummy. Holy cow, or maybe holy duck, duck was so good! What was Ped thinking - we just had a Wall Street hungry man's meal!

Next stop is the South Street Seaport where I'll take them to see Olafur Eliasson's NYC Waterfalls. Huffing and puffing after a heavy meal, we decided the best way is to take the S shuttle to cross town. By this time Rose is dragging her feet already since it's almost her naptime. With all that MSG, that made it even worse, but she plans to go back for more of the same, with her sister Rita who cooks the best shark fin soup. What's wrong with this picture? You're treating her to fast food Chinese restaurant cooking? That'd be a big letdown for Rita.

Beautiful sounds filled the underground - my head turned, I walked a few steps, then took a second look. It's not a conventional cello this young fella was playing. I walked back to watch him play and gentle nod was his cue to "Go ahead, it's okay to take my picture".

It turned out to be a homemade stripped-down electric cello. Did you ever see one of this? This guy Sean Grissom calls himself The Cajun Cellist, and like many of the Julliard School grads takes this as the first step. As part of the MUNY (Music Under New York) program, he plays his music underground and hopes to collect a dollar here and there from music-loving commuters as their note of thanks. As soon as we got home, I looked him up and he's quite talented it seems. He's done a few performances including once at the Kennedy Center, one other show he did was entitled O'Cello.

As if we didn't have enough of Peking in the duck soup, we were greeted by a tall ship named Peking docked by the Seaport. Tourists made up most of the bystanders and the picture-taking crowd trying to get a last look at the Waterfalls before the artwork is taken down next week. Walking around we spotted the Sedutto ice cream stand and don't be so shocked these three little women are also three hungry ones! You got it, those few blocks we walked from the station burned all the calories we had for lunch, one wonders what kind of metabolism we have even at this golden age. (We're not revealing our age.)

A large waffle cone pistachio ice cream, (who knows where all this appetite is coming from), was what I had, and so did Rose while Chong had the espresso. I said Rose should have that instead so she could keep her eyes open. I felt sick after eating all that, really it's a sin if you saw how much of that soup I gulped down! What a pigout!

I conked out on the cold subway seat on the way home, darn MSG must still be working. Even the quick stop at Brookstone didn't interest me anymore, I just wanna be in bed. And yes I finally did, right after checking out Sean's cello music on YouTube. Ah, Cello!

"Dance for me, Salome!"

Karita Mattila a soprano from Finland, sang the title role of Salome. What an explosive voice, act and dance performance, although I would have preferred the traditional stage set .

There are traditional and updated interpretations of the The Dance of The Seven Veils, choose which one you feel suits your belief, but for me the actual sensual dance is just as complicated and mystical as its meaning. Richard Strauss' music picked up every subtle movement and the artistic climax yet I couldn't bring myself to accept this change to a contemporary stage set especially as Salome sheds each of the seven pieces of clothing from her modern-day pantsuit. Creative as it was, it seems that the flavor of the dance in the Salome spirit has been lost in this variation.

No question about it, the music and the singing superb. All the elaborations on this biblical tale of the execution of John the Baptist made up this new production of the Salome by the Metropolitan Opera and is another success story. Joined by our friend Dorothy and her friend Mildred, we enjoyed the performance.

Tickled pink

This pretty baby named Christina Maria born on August 18th, 7 pounds, 3 ounces & 21 inches belongs to Spiro and Angeliki.

"Help me out of these Ugg boots, the fuzzy stuff tickle my feet, gimme my pink booties".
"This sucks, I don't get to pick my own wardrobe! "
"Who are you and why you bloggin' 'bout me?"

Easy girl, I guess Daddy didn't prepare you for this ha?
I think you look like Spiro.
Grannies on both sides are just crazy about you, they don't know when it's time to go home!

Isn't she cute?

Gotcha!

Enjoying yet another nippy fall day at 50F and sunny, I caught my resident friend scampering from tree to tree. Hey family, I want a better camera than this, get my drift?

Tata for now..

Grande Flora

Species: Magnolia grandiflora. I love magnolias and while I'm learning from others about them, I'm far from being an expert, but I can tell you this "baby" here is newsworthy!

I had no idea magnolias of this cultivar bloom in autumn. The large buds, wrapped in a brown sheath are almost as long as the waxy leaves. Let's hope those squirrels don't cheat me of the fully bloomed white saucer or tulip-shaped blossoms. They seem to be in the attack mode these days even if they have plenty of acorns to stash away. Greedy little creatures, stick to your messy seeds! You have certainly buried enough so now we have baby oak trees sprouting all over. Shooo!

There were about 6 to 8 buds when I last looked, which isn't bad for its first year and I hope Raly will make it back from Israel in time to see this baby tree in bloom. She gave me this 3-foot tree in July which in turn I planted in the condominium courtyard for everyone to enjoy.

Where its at, the magnolia gets its full dose of the sun, rich soil and plenty of water. While we have our irrigation system, this sucker can really drink, so I've trained Andrew our security guard to keep an eye on the tree. Ferrying water to keep this plant happy may not be part of his job, but he sure has gotten the hang of it. Why him and not the gardener? I figured he does foot patrol and walks around the tree area quite often, it's just convenient.

It's fulfilling to be able to spread the gardening bug around. Two to three years from now this magnolia tree will be the center of attraction here when it has grown a wide canopy and in full bloom! You bet I'll be around to share those snapshots.

The Johnson's Zoo

Introducing Thomas Quentin (formerly Nonameyet), David and Peter of the Johnson's Zoo.

Nonameyet is Allamenow!

You’re absolutely right, the name Nonameyet suits you fine, only if you plan to stay as a cuddly baby all your life. Don’t get me wrong, the Quentin I know was an old man from my hometown who played the banjo and the violin in a local ensemble we call the Rondalla ; some of my good friends are named Thomas and they are perfectly normal earthlings. Alright, alright, I’m sold, 'gotten over it - you are Tom from here on!

Do you wonder how I met the soon-to-be-the-Brady-Bunch-of-Heidelberg family?

On Sept. 19th, my 6:00 AM coffee date with my laptop started with a hair-pulling experience while doing some edits on my drafts and the darn changes won’t update properly. Tweak and SAVE – Nada. Error-try again, I was prompted! Still Nada. What the heck! The SAVE function has gone haywire. What have I done, have I violated any of the terms of use that eBlogger had to punish me this way?

Suddenly it occurred to me that there is such a thing as the Help Center, duh! But there’s no guarantee that I’ll even get heard and since I’m not a member of the Help Group, what do they care. No matter, I tried anyway.

I had to comb through tons of threads and posts from irate users who were having the same issues as mine. It was a global problem, I was relieved; an astounding revelation that I’m not stupid after all. I stumbled on a message from an author of thejohnsonszoo. Catchy name, I thought and my “animal instinct” got me drawn to the blog site.

Hesitantly, I perused the site. What a find! The author is using the same template I have. I don’t usually make a habit of blindly surfing the web and scouring for blogs worthy of my time, but here it was - serendipity, I couldn’t stop reading the posts. Eureka! What an interesting family, the father tells it like it is, pokes pun at the kids and his wife, how much fun could that be? Their Ladder Talk is a segment of the blog I always look forward to reading.

Having some guilt feelings of “intruding” in this great family’s affairs, I decided to follow them privately. Tell me "following" is not synonymous to "stalking" or is it?

Thanks Papa Johnson for allowing me to post a picture of the kids in my site. Saves me the trouble of having to write you for photo credits and permission. No copyrights violated, promise. I’m sure my family and closest friends will be happy to “ meet” your lovely kids.

Goodbye.