Knievel Anole or Anole Oakley?

Recently Robbie Knievel, the son of Evel, jumped his motorcycle over two Budweiser trucks near the state capital building in Austin, Texas. This stunt did not impress me. I was much more awed by Stubby's leap from the forehead of the clay mask across 2.5 feet into the canna bloom. The little lizard with the short tail seems to have mastered the art of reckless abandon when it comes to patio jumps.

Stubby is still shy when I head outside with my camera. He raced from the flowers into the hiding spots among large canna leaves.

Had to dig out my Edith Hamilton's Mythology to get my story straight. Stubby didn't spring from the terra cotta mask forehead full-grown and in full armor like Pallas Athena from the head of Zeus. It was still an impressive leap.

Wondering tonight why I respect Annie Oakley's stunts but not Robbie Knievel's. Had a great visit to the Annie Oakley Center at the Garst Museum in Greenville, Ohio on a rainy day this month. Annie was a class act, and a much better role model for young Stubby than Mr. Knievel. The image below is of mother-of-pearl opera glasses given to Ms. Oakley by Princess Alexandra, wife of England's Prince Edward. Alexandra's photo is in the oval frame.




© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Ruby-throated telenovela

It's a soap opera, for sure, but with grand opera possibilities:

A tiny green anole lizard has taken to patrolling the red base of my patio hummingbird feeder in search of yummy insects attracted to the sugar syrup. He parades around the circuit, and occasionally shows off his red throat flap. If he had a top hat he could be the ringmaster at the Barnum and Bailey Circus. So far, he refuses to pose for my photos.

The green hummingbird has frequented the feeder for the past month. This bird, no bigger than the lizard, rightly believes the feeder is its personal open-air cocktail lounge. On discovering the anole at its favorite watering hole, the hummingbird performed some irritable aerial maneuvers with prominent beak posturing. I'm thinking Hamilton and Burr will be dueling just before Ike's winds arrive tomorrow morning.

Last night I surfed through my cable line-up twice, not knowing any goal. Encountered many telenovelas. A telenovela is explained as a Latin American TV soap opera, often having a limited number of episodes.

Don't know how many episodes. For the present, the hummingbird has chased the lizard away. They are both still wearing their green suits with red cravats. The Dallas Opera has many operas scheduled this season with plots just as sketchy.




© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Operatic moment

Arriving home at eight last night after a very relaxing swim, I was tromping about unloading soggy towels in the laundry room, mail on the dining table, dirty lunch Tupperware in the kitchen, swimsuit in the lavatory, art files and purse in the bedroom, and finally, coat in the closet. Big sigh of relief. I was officially done for the day.

"Mom, look what happened," I hear from upstairs as Steven begins his descent. "Huh?" Then he turns the corner and I gasp. He has a bright red, shiny stain the size of a dinner plate on the lap of his favorite jeans. It's all I can do to keep from grasping the string of pearls at the neck of my brocaded silk gown, perform a tragic aria, "O, God! My baby boy's been stabbed in the groin!," and go into a final swoon, falling onto the stage in an elegantly draped heap. The invisible chorus is ready to take up the strains of, "He is stabbed, he's stabbed, the groin, O, God!, The groin, the groin, he is stabbed! Her baby boy, he's stabbed, O, God! Her baby boy is OOOOOO, groin! He is, her baby boy, O, God! [he's gone, oh, yes, he's gone, his groin, O, God...]Her baby boy is stabbed in the GROIN!" (Dramatic lighting here).

"You ever use iron oxide to stain clay, Mom?" "Huh?," I whisper shakily. "You know, like rust? I spilled some. The art teacher said to wash these separately," he explains. The chorus fades away singing, "Well, duh. Well, duh...." very softly.

"Okay," I say with my wrist at my forehead. "You'll need to take them off and bring them down to the laundry room, BUT FIRST you need to take that trash bag to the dumpster." Dramatic sigh.