Nonameyet who?

Nonameyet is his nickname before birth and we (his family and myself) have all been waiting for him to come out and so he finally decided to show up! Cute little one is the latest addition to the Johnson's Zoo somewhere out there in Germany. I will need permission to publish his photo, so the booties will have to do for now, okay?

Little does he know that in a country named USA, people panicked after something called the DOW, came tumbling down, probably at the same time that he was being scooped out of his mama's (Angie) belly! Isn't it some Jack or Jill who's supposed to be doing the tumbling part? Oh, let's not confuse poor Nonameyet he must have had a rough time inside while the doctors were trying their best not to snip any of his tiny parts as they perform what grown-ups call the C-section. Ouch, for Angie!

Today spelled RELIEF for both Nonameyet's mama and some of us here in the US of A. Angie's belly is lighter, no more of the bloating signs and for us here, the DOW did a "dead cat bounce". No clue what that means but that's what the financial experts call it. But I wonder if they're really experts; so why are we in all this mess now? Someday, you and I, Nonameyet will understand. But for now, take it easy - after over 9 months of being cooped up, just get used to your new environment.

Welcome to jungle Earth, Thomas Quentin Johnson aka Nonameyet.

What took you so long?

"Who is this baby now?", you asked.

I don't know him or his family. All I know is they live in Heidelberg, Germany and I've been following their blog anonymously. Papa Johnson is hilarious and his blog - very entertaining. Nonameyet has two brothers, David and Peter and it is such a fun family to "follow".

I'll be there for your updates, The Johnson's Zoo. God willing, I'll be able to watch you grow up like Davey and Pete. I prefer Nonameyet over Tom, so I'll call you that name. See 'ya later.

Les Parapluies de New York

Today is a soggy day in New York. Normally, I'll just curl up in bed and read a book until my droopy eyes lull me to Ceci-land. That is, if my gentle snorting doesn't jolt me. Instead I decided to trek to the city and claim the free tickets to a concert at Carnegie Hall, another generous invitation from the Mannes College of Music. I can not disappoint my friends, I offered them the tickets and with my forceful emphasis on the free part, they already accepted my invite! I can't afford to lose face here.

I received the post card notice yesterday and knowing how the lines can stretch blocks (I mean long NY streetblocks) away from the box office, my thought was, let me go there right away and maybe I'll be the only soul in line; with this clammy weather, you'd have to pay someone to stand in the rain for a freebie. But then I'll say have one's head examined if they're willing to pay $120 for 6 tickets to just give away to good friends. Not in this hard times, not even for myself.

So I got on the train without getting poked in the eyes by umbrella-toting commuters and after navigating the crowd that's getting off from the bus which came by 10 minutes late. Great - I got a seat on an almost empty car because this was past the rush hour stampede.

Yipee, you think? Hold that cheer! Peace and quiet that lasted only 2 minutes until the next stop. What happened? A guy sat next to me, ruggedly dressed in typical NY getup, and then he started talking and cursing loud. Not good, what's his problem?

Pretending not to be scared. I turned on my internal radar. Readings revealed no Bluetooth velcro-ed to his ear, no iPod earplugs or headset and since cell phones get no signals underground, that's out - oh crap (pardon my French) , he is talking to himself! This jerk must be a sick-o! Now my heart started racing faster than the speed of this R train, I jumped out at the next stop and with a Cosmo Kramer-esque move, I took the next safe(?) seat in the front car. Relieved that he didn't follow me, I rode on merrily. Readers beware, sightings of this sort are normal in NY subways, so always get your antennas polished just in case. Harmless he maybe, but why take a chance?

And the umbrella theme, you asked? Translated: The Umbrellas of New York. Relax, I'll get there -- - eventually.

Second in line, got my tickets and out of the box office in no time. Home, James? Not yet, first let's see what my camera can steal shots of. Soggy and windy so what else could be more fitting - umbrellas aka parasols, bumbershoot, parapluies (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg). Being at the right place at the right time, that's exactly what happened here. Fantastic! I got lucky this time.

Look closely (you got it - click on the picture) and you'll see Lehman Brother's logo in the green umbrella on the left. Waiting in the rain not knowing what this man's fate is, after LB went belly-up, seems to be the subject here.

Next - a couple from out-of-town cozy up under a New York umbrella while watching the waterfall by Prometheus Ring. No amount of rain can dampen the spirits of these two; the tour must go on! Picture is a bit blurry, no, not from my shaky hands but from the wind - 'think it's time for a digital SLR, guys? (Hint: Christmas in Dec.)

Lastly, the infamous upturned umbrella that always ends up in litter baskets in every streetcorner in New York. If you gather all the broken umbrellas everytime it rains here, there will be enough for Christo to hang on a line and wrap around Central Park again. Or, ship them to the Philippines and you'll keep lots of happy faces dry (after they fix the umbrellas and that's a no-brainer where I came from).

Life should be so simple; if something's broken, fix it and it can be useful again sometimes coming out as good as new. I wish we could do the same thing with the economic crisis. Not so easy. Let's see what happens at the debate tonight, now they got me listening.

PS : Apologies to Catherine Deneuve for my having bastardized the title of the movie she starred in - Le Parapluies de Cherbourg (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg), blazing cinematography and a great love story. Check it out in your local library, it's free!

Leaves of change

Change seems to be the byword these days, news of all sorts about the crisis have been more sobering of late while Wall Street is short of having a meltdown. There's enough chaos out there in the financial world, a mayhem that makes everyone jittery and since we don't have much control over that, let's not worry so much about it and let's just talk about our favorite universal topic: the weather. For sure, I can't mess this one up or I hope not to!

Autumn is in the air. It felt crisp and invigorating the last couple of days as I did my morning walk. When sweaters start getting yanked out of the closet we know that summer is on its way out. Worry not, early signs of autumn are a harbinger of more wonderful things to come.

Leaves will be turning their red, copper or yellow colors and soon it'll be time to take that road trip to watch nature boast its masterpiece of brilliant foliage. Some of the best sceneries and my favorites are the winding local routes in Litchfield, Connecticut ending up in Worchester, Mass.. It's a spectacular festival of colors surrounding beautiful country homes along the way. A jug of apple cider and some fall harvest treats usually fill up a basket for us to take home.

It'll still be a while before the summer plants shut-down for the season, some of the birds will hang around for sometime until it's cold enough to move on and the Greenmarkets will still bring the best harvest from their farms before the freeze. And my hairy friend the squirrel will stick around for as long as it can with the dropping temperatures, or will it hibernate? I don't know.

I love going to the Greenmarket at Union Square, my best picks are the Pennsyvania "broken pretzels" ( a bag of which you can fetch for a buck and taste as good as the unbroken ones) and the "bubble gum cheese" from the Amish farmers. I don't know if Marge just coined the term for the marble-sized balls of white farmer's cheese that look like they just rolled out of a gumball machine, but they sure are a fun thing to snack on. She used to bring us a bag of this cheese curds on her way from her subway stop at the Square for us to chow down while working at Bellevue. Good old days.

Some of the good wines are produced in the vineyards in North Fork on Long Island. Aha! I remember that trip to Cutchogue to the Pugliese Vineyard. I think I still have the calendar of his best shots of Lighthouses. Wendy got a kick out of that; she thought it was a serious crush, when actually, I just admired his photography which he published as a calendar. We met him at the autumn County Fair where he was selling his artwork and of course we later found out his family owns the vineyard. Poor Ralph. I don't even drink wine, so where is the connection, Wendy? Mother Pugliese would've had a heart attack. Oh, that happened eons ago. Will have to plan on some vineyard hopping this fall, that's always fun. This time I'll be the one to take photographs, ha ha ha!

Many of the birds have definitely gone to their winter retreats. Do you ever wonder about those migratory birds? They are lucky they can just fly out to the other side of the globe without having to worry about sky-high airfares, cancelled flights, lost luggage or lack of legroom while in flight. Do they also suffer from "jet lag"? Silly me.

It was about 54 degrees when I strolled around this morning. I can only wish for this cool weather to stay all year but that would be a miracle. Change is about to happen and that's what makes the four seasons interesting. Hopefully we won't have to deal with a harsh winter, but if we do we'll just have to live with it. Okay, okay, maybe I'm too old to move out and change!

Right now, it's sunny and cool and I'm just lovin' it! Hot apple cider and a book to read - let's seize the day.

First day of Fall

Fall Song

Another year gone, leaving everywhere

its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,

the uneaten fruits crumbling damply

in the shadows, unmattering back

from the particular island

of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere

except underfoot, moldering

in that black subterranean castle

of unobservable mysteries - roots and sealed seeds

and the wanderings of water. This

I try to remember when time's measure

painfully chafes, for instance when autumn

flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing

to stay - how everything lives, shifting

from one bright vision to another, forever

in these momentary pastures.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Marooned

What better way to spend the afternoon bumming around, but not in Amelia Island. Sob, sob. It’s hard not get whiny about it when all this time I've been enjoying the frills of an employee without actually doing any work! So why do I get invited to all the affairs but not this business trip to Amelia Island? Duh….smash this pea brain of mine, I almost forgot I don’t work for them anymore. I doubt if they’ll get any work done at all. Not the most pleasant taste in your mouth – pure sour grapes!

Some of my good friends flew there today for what the company calls a “working vacation”. Give me a clue as to how that’s going to work (pun intended), with golf clubs in tow, Melena and Ray as the guilty suspects and bathing suits stuffed in their laptop cases? Ain't happening folks. Watch out for those sleepyheads during the presentations; you're better off trying some games of "egg hunt" around the plantation, you might just get some people to pay attention! Team building, a fancy name for it. Ha ha ha...

I sure miss my West Coast old buddies from work, Stace who talks a mile a minute, rattle off lectures, fingers flying on the keyboard; with all that info in her brains I'm surprised there's room left for the other senses like taste or smell! I love her dearly, but I admit her photographic memory and that brain of hers intimidate me. Kind of makes me feel I'm lost in the Google world of intelligent folks. Although, I heard Stacey asked for me; I was touched. Best mentor I've had, but you better absorb what she teaches you, or else! No, she's not one to terrorize her mentees, she just has no patience for dead cells, she can kill you with that look . Yikes!!!

Sounds of the ocean, championship courses, quiet and relaxed atmosphere - I bet you guys are going to have fun. Would I trade retirement for those frills? Naah, I'll pass. The body is willing but the spirit is not, or some crazy thingy!

A good nap, if that's what you'd call two hours of sleep, on a Sunday afternoon, was the best I could say for myself after working hard in the garden last week. I heard my poor body saying " Give me a break, it's a Sunday for crying out loud" and so I gave in grudgingly.

A Hitchcock movie tonight. Add to that a can of Sprite and some chippies, that should keep me out of trouble, you think? Oh no! Not quite, with all that sugar fix, I'll probably be up all night. The suspense movie won't scare me (I'll be busy looking for Alfred himself in his movie), I'm cheating - I've seen it many times - North by Northwest and yes I'm a big Hitchcok fan. A big fan also - of Cary Grant who else?

And that's life in Gilligan's Island..

NASDAQ and the squirrel

Did you know that squirrels brought down the high-tech NASDAQ once or twice because they caused a power outage while searching for their food?

When the financial crisis is going to let up, no one knows exactly but we could learn something from our bushy-tailed friend, the squirrel. I watched one as it held an acorn between its paws, gently cracked it and looked for a safe place to hide it for the next meal. It was a well-orchestrated project. Let's hope it knows exactly where to go to recover the nuts, otherwise I'll be pissed off if I find it digging in the planters and all the flower beds in search of its loot. Boy, can they make a mess of my bulbs. It's no wonder less and less of the crocuses are sprouting each spring.

The squirrel went about in such a big production of sniffing the area, scratching the soil, going to another spot as if testing which one is safer, all done while holding the acorn in its tiny mouth, until it got to its choice spot. I imagine it was shopping for the "best deal" in town. You should've seen this guy bury the nut, cover it loosely with soil and shake off the dirt from its paws. Look Ma, clean hands!

Where is my camera when I needed it? The picture seen here was not mine. Oh, it would have been perfect if I had taken a movie of the whole act, but just as well, I watched the whole scene unfold and it just blew my mind. I didn't realize how well-thought of the idea of stashing goods away for the winter is, even for the tiniest creature. In the squirrel world maybe that’s what’s called “banking"?

We'll make mistakes, some of us will be fortunate to amass some wealth, some will work hard all their life but one thing must be done - plan ahead. Rough times are ahead but I'm hopeful.
"Save for a rainy day" was a line my parents instilled in us and heeding their advice paid off.

And just like the squirrel, let's hope that whatever it is we've tucked away, most of it will still be there when the time comes. Let's also hope the next leader we choose will not sell us down the river!

Of rhizomes and worms ~~~~~

For me, the conclusion of the games at the US Open is a herald of Fall. Sort of. It sure brings to mind the coming of cooler weather. It’s been a mild summer in New York and for the past few days it already felt like Fall. That gives me plenty of reason to enjoy the outdoors gardening - minus the scorching sun.

Now is the time to plant. Some might think it’s a little quirky of me to take this task on, taking care of dividing plants and transplanting them to get ready for Spring. I find it therapeutic and while working with soil stains my nails and messes my hands and feet (yes, even with a full gear of gloves and gardening shoes), it gives me a surge of energy and a great deal of satisfaction, especially when the garden grows lush in the springtime.

Nathan, a four-year old tot is one of my tiny gardening friends. Today he asked me if I saw his “worm”, the one he took home yesterday to take care of. It was an earthworm he was playing with, left near the flowers beds for it "to sleep", unfortunately it got away in the night and so I promised him I’ll find him another one. It was a bit much for him to process when I explained to him how the earthworm burrows into and helps aerate the soil; for him it was an impertinent fact - all he cared about was "get me another one I can play with - now" and he wasn’t scared of the little crawlie too! Yuck! He actually stood there waiting for me to dig the ground to find him one; then his dad took him by the hand and off they went. Going fishing without the worm, I doubt it. To be young, my dear Nathan!

I tell you, gardening has taken over my life and I’m not a bit sorry about that. For at least three to four hours a day, I’m out there down on my knees working with soil. Yesterday, I dug out the rhizomes of the purple Iris plants and divided some more of the ornamental grass Liriope that has grown into clumps and aggressively spread invading two of our front lawn sections. You need a hacksaw and an ax to cut through the thick woody roots. Yes, I may have the strength but should I risk tearing my shoulder completely? You must be kidding, after what I went through in physical therapy, I know better. Thank goodness I have the luxury of a brawny porter, Adolfo.

My harvest for the Iris came out to over 300 rhizomes, part of which I’ve already planted in many areas of the property. Let’s hope those pesky squirrels will leave them alone. I had our porter Adolfo’s help in digging out the ornamental grass, we yielded quite a few hundred bunches enough to serve as groundcover for a large part of the complex. Once transplanted, they sure dressed up the sparse areas under the trees especially with the variegated hostas we planted around them. Residents noticed and loved it. The Liriope or Lilyturf that I used as borders will bind the soil and serve as a form of erosion control, which we have a problem with since we are situated on hilly grounds. Not exactly an engineering marvel, but is sure cheaper than building wooden retaining walls.
There’s a lot more to do, I can’t wait till the morning. I hope to find a "squiggly" for Nathan.
Ask any gardener and they’ll tell you , they live in their yard.

“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is a society where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more.”

--- Lord Byron
from Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage