Returned to Forever

True, it would have been fun to hear the reunion concert of Return to Forever at Grand Prairie's Nokia Theatre Sunday night. Instead, I heard the fabulous Fort Worth Opera's "Turandot" on Sunday. Chick Corea, Stanley Clarke, Al DiMeola, and Lenny White received a glowing review in the Dallas Morning News for their spontaneous fusion jams.



I had returned to those already uninspiring "Forever" postage stamps through the recent rate increase. Sure was nice to pick up some Frank Sinatra and Minnesota Statehood panes at the post office. The Woolly Mammoth is a big Sinatra fan, and he will have fun using the stamps when he writes his grandfather, soon I suggest!

I'll be even more excited about the Charles and Ray Eames stamps that go on sale June seventeenth.



© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Full-boring without a full-deck ... or Bored to be wild

Recently a motorcycle shop opened on my regular route to work. "Full Boar Cycles" slowly penetrated my foggy morning brain, and I began a brief daily fret that for all my years I might have been mistaken about the expression "full bore," as in "she's really going full-bore on that project." I always figured it was a sort of John Henry all out effort, and had to do with mining.

What if I've been mistaken all my born days, and the expression is really "going full boar," like a deranged razorback? That would be embarrassing!

Danger Baby rode with me one morning to be dropped at the DART rail station. He reassured me that "full-bore" is like "full-throttle," but "full boar" is like Harley Davidson hogs--although I'm pleased to report that he had an instant of self-doubt when we passed the cycle shop.

And so that is why I was twiddling my thumbs in the central jury room at the courthouse this morning, fully bored after completing the Sudoku, crossword, and wordsearch puzzles. And that's when I started to worry about Piggy in Lord of the Rings. Did Piggy get his glasses broken, or was he killed? What was the deal with the pig hunt? Did we read William Golding's novel in Mrs. Ehrlich's tenth grade English class, or in Mrs. Barry's eleventh grade class?

Thanks to an online synopsis, I've got those uncivilized boys straightened out, if not the English teachers. Thanks to a 1997 New York Times piece by William Safire, I've got a better idea about "bore," and thanks to the long morning spent not being selected for a jury, my brain is ready for naptime.

''Moving or operating at the greatest speed or with maximum power'' is the Random House definition of the adjective ... Where is it from? ''We are working on an entry on full bore,'' says John Simpson of the O.E.D. ...''and our evidence shows that it derives from the bore meaning 'cylinder.' Full bore is the widest capacity of a cylinder.'' Some lexicographers think the bore first measured an engine cylinder (and have a 1927 citation), while others think that the origin is from the measurement of the inside of the barrel of a gun. ''A .45-caliber gun can take a .44-caliber load,'' John Snyder of the gun lobby tells me, ''so full bore would be the maximum-size load. In another sense, it means 'maximum capable powder load.' ''

As for playing with a full deck, it's not a big deal working with the preschoolers. When we did our end of the school year clean-up, I found lots of long-lost Uno cards under rugs and behind cupboards.

This little piggy went to jury duty,

This little piggy stayed at home,

This little piggy had a dictionary,

And this little piggy had none.

And the last little piggy rode a Harley, all the way home !

Get your motor runnin'

Head out on the information super-highway

Googlin' for adventure

And whatever comes our way

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Acrobats add to "Turandot"

The news story of a Chinese acrobatic troupe stranded at DFW Airport tugged at our collective ravelled memories. Now these very young performers were adding to the exoticism of the fairy tale Chinese court of the ice-hearted princess Turandot. Fort Worth Opera's 2008 Festival-goers loved this happy addition to the already fabulous production.

The youthful gymnasts, flew into Dallas after performing at a casino in New York at the start of what was to be a nine-month tour of the U.S. Members of the Guanhua Acrobatic team from Shanghai spoke next to no English. The man who had arranged their trip was not there to meet them. They had no money, no job, food, shelter, and no plane tickets that day last February. After spending time in homeless shelters, they found a temporary home with a circus acquaintance living in Kauffman County.

The Fort Worth Star Telegram story of May 27th explains how the acrobats became "featured supernumeraries" in Puccini's opera directed by Kurt Howard. I only wish "Pagliacci" had also been planned for the Festival to give the acrobats more work!

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Every hat has a silver lining

This men's hat interactive learning tool for the chapeauly-challenged will use the same format as the electric quiz board I made for Camp Fire Girls in 1966, but without the dry cell, peg board, wires, and lightbulb.

Round #1

1. Many people born in the late Fifties name this flat cloth cap worn for driving on the road or golf course after which long-time Mattel Barbie boyfriend?

2. In Esphyr Slobodkina's classic children's picture book, the peddler demands that what animal give him back his caps?

Round #2

1. What two movie stars looked great in eight-panel newsboy caps?

2. A bucket cap can be worn with the brim flipped up or down. It can be worn while singing, "There is Nothing Like a Dame," or on a fishing trip with Colonel Henry Blake of the M.A.S.H. 4077th. Name two other famous and clueless bucket cap wearers. "Who are these people?"

3. Because of its shape, a bucket cap is often referred to by the trademark of what disposable paper drink holder?

Round #3

1. Usually a light, straw hat with a stiff wide brim and a flat shallow crown, but not necessarily named for the most common and colorful order of the dragonfly family, what silly plastic hats are worn at political conventions?

2. While similar to the hat worn by Mary Poppins' significant other as played by Dick Van Dyke, what different term designates the stiff straw hat with a flat crown worn by Renoir's lunchers and the young Bob Dylan at Woodstock?

3. "Who are those guys?" What hat convinces Butch and Sundance that Joe Lefors is on their trail?

Round #4

1. I'm too old to remember Buster Keaton wearing this hat style named after a thick-crusted pastry filled with chopped meat. What man's hat style having a low, flat crown and a snap brim is sadly invoked in Charles Mingus' elegy for jazz saxophone great Lester Young? [Listen free.]

2. Named for an 1882 work by French playwright Victorien Sardou, what soft felt hat with a brim that can be turned up or down and a rather low crown creased lengthwise is a symbol for both Frank Sinatra and Indiana Jones?

3. A slouch hat is a soft hat with a flexible wide brim and chinstrap most commonly worn as part of a military uniform. The Australian slouch hat is sometimes called a bush hat, and is worn with one side of the brim turned up or pinned to the side of the hat. What golfer joins Crocodile Dundee and the Man From Snowy River as familiar Australian hat wearers?

Round #5

The Daily Double! Sean Connery as Captain Marko Ramius wears the traditional Russian fur cap called a Ushanka in what 1990 movie?

1. Perhaps you missed the NPR segment about Basque sheepherders and Dutch ovens in the western U.S. What round, visorless cloth cap originally worn by male Basques has a name derived from the Late Latin birrus, "hooded cape"?

2. Lyle Lovett would rather you steal his girlfriend than touch his John B. hat having a high crown and wide brim of what brand?

3. Hamid Karzai , known for his handsome peaked hat made from the aborted fetuses of Karakul sheep, is the president of what country?

Final Round

1. Not to be confused with a homburg, this stiff felt hat with a round crown and a narrow, curved brim is named after what event at Epsom Downs?

2. Having nothing to do with pins and strikes, this hat made by Thomas and William Bowler was a frequent symbol in the surrealist work of what artist?
I've got Sherlock's thinking cap, but need new flashlight batteries before we can consider trilbys, panamas, and gimmes.

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Companion planting or online bad date

Marigolds are allegedly the front line in the organic battle against garden pests. They are supposed to be the companion plant of your dreams--The golden guy who just looks tough, and scares away nematodes and whiteflies.

Marigolds are the sort of guys who still hold doors open for tomatoes, and wait for those tomatoes to unlock the front door and turn on a light before driving off. Marigolds broil great burgers on the Weber. They prefer beer but can open champagne and wine bottles like connoisseurs. Marigolds give little kids piggy back rides, do their own oil changes, nap on the couch, and accompany you to any cultural event you request as long as there's a steak & baked potato dinner beforehand.

Marigolds love teaching a kid to bait a hook. They can be appropriately somber when that same kid buries a dead goldfish in a metal Band-aid box in the backyard.

Marigolds are not perfect. They forget to close the sunroof in the monsoon season. Marigolds leave the toilet seat up. They often smell like aged sweaty soccer socks, and ALWAYS overload the washing machine. Still, they play frisbee with dogs and in-laws at family reunions, even if it isn't their family. They rinse their dishes, but don't actually load the dishwasher.

Marigolds call their moms every other Saturday without being nagged. They are the sort of person you want to have the extra key to your house.

I've not tried online matchmaking sites. I've been misled too often! The perfect sensitive macho marigold that is supposed to ward off garden pests is the plant on my patio afflicted with pests.



What's eating the marigolds? Some pest is systematically mowing off my dream dates. Maybe the marigolds were creating fictitious online personas to attract gullible tomatoes.

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Cat's pajamas and bee's knees bedrooms

This bedroom with tape-player is by a five year old girl. She has good taste in drawer pulls! The one below is by a five year old boy.



After our "Cat's Pajamas" art class, one girl came to school in her kitty cat pajamas for Crazy Day, and another wore a pink leopard hat. Other kids had some outfits that were truly the fish's galoshes.

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Three-cornered cats

By a four year old boy.
© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

The Cat's Pajamas?

What to wear for Crazy Day? I don't know what to do for the last day of school.

Last week we made cats out of triangles in art class. The children had been singing "My Hat It Has Three Corners" in music class with the hand signs. So we changed it to "My Cat It Has Three Corners," and "My Corner Has Three Cats".

My own little condo corner seems quite full with the three of us prowling around at contrasting hours of the morning and night. I started thinking about cats for art class during a spell of two a.m. insomnia when no pajamas seem quite right for the thermostatically-challenged woman of a certain age. If I had cat's pajamas, I could wear them on Crazy Day...but it is entirely too hot, humid, and windy today to venture out to the mall in search of pjs.

The expression "cat's pajamas" seems to date from the flapper era, along with the "bee's knees." The Random House Word Maven, Valerie Stecher, wrote on 1/2/01 that the "cat's pajamas":

...means 'a wonderful or remarkable person or thing'. But it nearly always implies stylishness and newness-it's 'the greatest thing since sliced bread'....pajamas were a relatively new fashion in the 1920s.

There are many similar expressions combining an animal with a part of the body or article of clothing inappropriate for it, such as the sea lions' capri pants. And no, I won't wear capri pants for Crazy Day. I do have a three-cornered hat left from many sons' history projects that I might wear.


Ted Tjaden, a Canadian lawyer and law librarian, has put together a website with ragtime piano sheet music and sheet music covers, including a section on animal-themed rags. The Cat's Pajamas, a "novelty piano solo," was written by Harry Jentes in 1922. It's fabulously fun stuff. It'll make you feel like strutting down the alley, so check it out!



© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Memorial Day picnic brunch

This Memorial Day weekend I am finally writing last winter’s Christmas letter. Perhaps arriving at the beginning of summer it will be seem less bloating than roast turkey with stuffing and sauerkraut--still newsy, but more like fresh fruit ambrosia or a melon boat.

Ah, yes, the nectar of the gods!

Ambrosia, favored food or drink of the Olympians, from the Latin ambrosia, from the Greek ambrosios, literally “of the immortals,” from a- “not” + mbrotos, related to mortos “mortal”.

In the early Sixties a neighbor over on “L” Street had a holiday brunch open house in her backyard. My memory is a Technicolor scene of green grass, swing set, card tables, and kids in bright sunsuits and sundresses. The centerpiece was a splendid watermelon boat cut with dramatic zigzag edges, filled with fresh watermelon wedges, cantaloupe balls, green grapes, and canned pineapple “tidbits” and mandarin orange sections.

Sometimes Aphrodite demands cut strawberries, and Hermes hollers for honeydew in Olympus. In Nebraska in the Sixties nobody knew about kiwi, although it does add nice color in the melon boat.

I have no idea what else was on the menu at that backyard brunch--maybe muffins, donut holes, and Little Smokies. The family’s obese long-eared dog waddled around the lawn looking for dropped goodies under the card tables. It was quite the most elegant event I had ever attended!

This holiday weekend my condo is the cut and hollowed watermelon boat for the ambrosia. The boat is very full of immortals from the Latin and Greek, or at least a junior home from a year in Italy.

My year with the Montessori preschoolers has been filled with daily delights and insights. I love photographing school happenings and the insect visitors to our playground garden. We help introduce the children to nature at its most basic level, including worm composting, and I get to teach art with an emphasis on nature. Next weekend I will attend the Ft. Worth Opera Festival’s “Turandot” with friends in the very elegant Bass Hall. There probably won’t be a melon boat or a long-eared waddling dog, but it will be lots of fun.

Have a great summer!

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!

Captain Kangaroo helped me learn the days of the week with this song:



Today is Monday

Monday -- string beans

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!
Today is Tuesday

Tuesday -- spaghetti

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!
Today is Wednesday

Wednesday -- soup

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!
Today is Thursday

Thursday -- roast beef

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!
Today is Friday

Friday -- fresh fish

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!
Today is Saturday

Saturday -- chicken

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!
Today is Sunday

Sunday -- ice cream

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!



It's probably time to update it for the foodie generation:



Today is Monday
Monday -- hummus

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!

Today is Tuesday
Tuesday -- feta
All you hungry children, come and eat it up!

Today is Wednesday
Wednesday -- edamame

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!

Today is Thursday
Thursday -- Mom's posole

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!

Today is Friday
Friday -- Red Stripe beer
All you hungry children, come and eat it up!

Today is Saturday
Saturday -- fresh fruit smoothies

All you hungry children, come and eat it up!

Today is Sunday
Sunday -- bagels
All you hungry children, come and eat it up!



The hungry grown children and I are gradually adjusting to sharing the Nest Formerly Known as Empty for the summer. Seems I forgot to change the locks on the condo. Maybe the guys had super-sized bread crumbs to mark the trail.



A six year-old student progressed to reading the story of Hansel and Gretel aloud to me this week. The story seems so deeply woven into our culture that I forget some children are encountering it for the very first time.



© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Ants day and date night

With no rats this time, and only one snake, the fourth Indiana Jones has to rely on insect vermin. We enjoyed the "Crystal Skull" movie immensely. It's taken a few hours for little nagging nitpicks to cut through the euphoria. Mostly I'm grateful for one last date with the dashing unmarried archaeology professor in the fedora. I'm willing to ignore some flaws for the chance to reminisce about our past adventures.

Indy's Russian foes have splendid difficulties with large computer-generated Peruvian ants. Certain parts of the movie seemed like Indiana Jones Joins Men In Black. I was hoping the "crystal skull" would resemble a Mayan inlaid stone mask more than the "galaxy in Orion's belt" cat collar!

Just the other day we learned of an invasion of "Crazy Rasberry Ants" in Houston. Crazy Rasberry is an indication of the ants behavior, and a salute to Mr. Rasberry, an exterminator who did battle with these ants.



The preschoolers have been checking the progress of the black swallowtail caterpillars eating the dill in our garden. When the caterpillars began disappearing, we hoped they were crawling off somewhere to make their cocoons. Unfortunately, the beautiful caterpillars are being attacked and eaten by fire ants. Nature can be such a bummer! The caterpillars need fedoras and whips against obnoxious ants.

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Story-starters, fagot-finders, and flame-broiled whoppers

"Did you attach the key onto the outside of the Buick with a Band-Aid?," I asked the Woolly Mammoth. It wasn't a good start to the morning. He had left the car at the train station for his brother in the wee hours by my standard--after eight p.m. The three of us are sharing one working vehicle, one non-working vehicle, and a mass-transit system that leaves something to be desired for these few summer weeks. Our jobs and schedules are not yet braiding together in seamless harmony like the warf and woop of the cosmos, but the candle of hope flickers still.

In the evening, waiting for the charcoal to reach the perfect degree of orange and gray to cook the marinaded chicken, I drift into a Camp Fire Girl reverie:

Burn fire burn
Burn fire burn
Flicker flicker flicker flicker flame

My baby Weber is still six briquettes short of a flame-broiled whopper. Should I feed it tinder or kindling? Should I paint the heads of wooden matches with nail polish, and store them in a metal Band-Aid box? That was one of the survival skills I learned in Camp Fire Girls in the mid-1960s. So far, I've never needed a waterproofed match to survive, although I did fantasize once or twice about painting my spouse's head with nail polish and then stuffing him in a metal box.

I have a fondness for vintage metal boxes, Band-Aid and other. It's funny what sticks, and what doesn't. What sinews bind us to things and to people?

At one a.m. I fret. Did my son collect the Buick at the train station? To ward off worry I try to remember the girls in my Camp Fire Girl group so many years ago. The names sound so old-timey compared to my students' names:

Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, Prissy, Julie, Julie, Judy, Jody, Wendy, Wendy, Hilde, Debbie, Laurie, Donna, Janice, Dee-Dee, Linda, Susan, Margaret, Pam...

Margaret's mother taught us the "Burn Fire Burn" song:

BURN, FIRE, BURN!

(Adante moderato)
Burn, fire, burn! burn, fire, burn!
Burn, flicker, flame!
Whose hand above this blaze is lifted
Shall be with magic touch engifted,
To warm the hearts of lonely mortals
Who stand without their open portals.
The torch shall draw them to the fire,
Higher, higher, higher, By desire.
Who so shall stand by this hearthstone, flame-fanned,
Shall never stand alone;
Whose house is dark and bare and cold,
Whose house is dark and cold;
This is his own!
Flicker, flicker, flicker, flicker, flame!

Such tiny diversity within our group! One girl with a divorced mother, one girl living in an apartment, one Jewish girl, one Unitarian... Five daughters of engineers, two daughters of doctors plus one veterinarian, one daughter of a minister, at least five daughters of university professors. All of us save two walked home from school for lunch with our moms everyday, and then walked back for the afternoon class. When school dismissed at 3:15 we walked together to our Camp Fire meeting at one of our homes.

Camp Fire Girls worked their way up from Wood Gatherers to Fire Makers and Torch Bearers. The way was perilous, hidden under tinder and kindling, fraught with fagot-finders, and mired in the classic contest between wiggly loose front teeth and homemade popcorn balls.

WOOD GATHERER's DESIRE (1914) (spoken)

As fagots are brought from the forest
["Fagot" here means "a bundle of sticks tied together."]
Firmly held by the sinews which bind them,
So cleave to these others, your sisters,
Wherever, whenever you find them.
Be strong as the fagots are sturdy,
Be pure in your deepest desire;
Be true to the truth that is in you;
And--follow the Law of the Fire.


The five year olds are beginning to write stories. They choose a photo from the box of story starters, then make two to four sentences about the picture. Usually they write who is in the photo, what they are doing, and where. Sometimes they tell when, but rarely why. I keep trying to get them to spice up their stories.

Surprise me. Tell me something I don't already know. Tell me something exciting. Make me laugh. What did the flamingos play?

WE BIRDS
PLAY NOW
FLUTE AND CELLO?

And no, the Woolly Mammoth did not use the Band-Aid to stick the key on the Buick. The Band-Aid wrapper was left on the car seat because he cut his finger while hiding the key.


© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Tres Perro Noche

The assembled repatriated juniors were discussing the disgusting trend toward dogs being taken everywhere in North Texas. I agree with them that it's very annoying, but don't Italians take their dogs to the sidewalk restaurants? Certainly, the returning students say, "but Italian dogs are so much better trained!"

Not being really connected with celebrity trends and gossip, I don't know who to blame for the teacup dog craze. Last week I watched a woman smoosh her dog down into her totebag before she walked into Chipotle to order her lunch. My weekend lunch buddy and I are displeased when diners on the La Madeleine patio retrieve their dogs from the car, let them off leash, and leave them unattended while they go inside to get more coffee and jelly.

It's an arrogant assumption that everyone dining on the cafe patio will be as enchanted with your precious wuzzum woggy-doggy as you. I don't want to share my dining experience with your uzzy-wuggy muffy-wuzzum.

The college students all applaud my oration on the subject. They add that if children can't behave in a restaurant, their parents shouldn't bring them! Bold opinions from the upcoming generation of parents, so I'm noting the date on the calendar. We will check in with them on that subject in another four years!

In 1982 my spouse decided that we should take our six month-old son to a trendy fondue restaurant in Omaha. Geez! "Trendy fondue restaurant" sounds sooooo long ago! No wonder that baby has a master's degree. It was named "The Golden Apple" (the restaurant, not the baby). When we walked in with our baby, a collective gasp of horror went up from the dining customers and the waitstaff. Did we get the hint? No. Did we make that mistake again??? No.

I've been plagued by mangled mental music from Three Dog Night, circa 1970 :


Want some wuzzums at your restaurant,
Teacup doggie by your knee
What's all these crazy questions they askin' me
This is the craziest party there could ever be
Don't turn on the lights, 'cause I don't want to see
Mama told me not to come
Mama told me not to come
That ain't the way to have fun, no

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Culture Shock

It is wonderful to have two sons back "home" with me. The first week hasn't been totally smooth, but we are getting used to togetherness and coordinating mass transportation by DART rail.

The refrigerator is in shock because it is filled with food again--roast beast, fresh fruits and veggies, Feta cheese, and gallons of milk. The dishwasher is stunned at its new workload. I pulled an inch-thick deposit of Transatlantic dryer lint out of the trap, and gave it to the worms to make feather boas. The Buick is asking for time-and-a-half overtime pay.

The Woolly Mammoth has the biggest time change to make, coming home from Italy to a place with orange cheese. He needs a haircut, a job, and a diet with lots more fresh fruits to fight a nasty cough. I can help with the fresh fruits, but not the job.

His need for a haircut is sufficiently pronounced that his brother and I both had ours cut. Danger Baby is talking Woolly Mammoth through some of his post-Italy depression issues. I never had a junior year abroad, but I'm sure most of real life is not quite as wonderful, scenic, exciting, empowering, or impoverishing.

Fortunately, we are still allowed to diagnose returning students with Post Junior Year Abroad Syndrome (PJYAS) and Haircut Disorder. Our returning vets may not be treated as kindly with their Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Just another day opening the newspaper and being embarrassed to be an American living in Texas in the Bush Era!

Much of the old high school Lunch Bunch showed up to sit on the patio on a perfect late spring evening, drink beer, and recount their various junior year adventures. It was fun to hear them chatting out back, but I need even more beauty sleep than before. When this CollageMama invites all the gang to look in her wormbin, it's probably a hint to move the reunion to another venue! Vermicompost is not vermicelli.

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Raiders of the School Cilantro

Harrison Ford and I needed more fresh cilantro for the chicken posole. Fortunately Sean Connery had mailed me his diary detailing the whereabouts of the secret source of bountiful cilantro.

So, after I picked up Danger Baby at the DART station, Indiana Jones and I stopped over at my school's garden to pick a bunch. Thank heaven there were no snakes. Indy hates snakes.

My recipe for Slow Cooker Chicken Posole comes from Weight Watchers by way of a co-worker. It doesn't even call for cilantro. Come to think of it, the soup I'm making is actually a cross between the posole recipe and another recipe for "white chili". But Indiana Jones and I take risks in pursuit of spicy, satisfying, inexpensive stews to feed my currently large household.

Raiders of the School Cilantro Soup

Place in large (4.5 quart) crockpot on high heat:
2 cans of Great Northern Beans, undrained
1 can of diced green chilies, undrained
1 can of "original" Rotel tomatoes and chilies, undrained
1 box of Kroger organic chicken broth
1 big can of hominy, drained
3 stalks of celery, chopped
1 T lime juice
1 t cumin
1 t cayenne

In a skillet on medium heat brown in 1 t oil:
1/2 cup ground sausage
3 chicken breasts
1/2 orange bell pepper
1 large clove of garlic, peeled and minced
lots and lots of fresh cilantro cut with Fiskars round-tip scissors

Remove from skillet and cut chicken into small bite-size pieces.
Add to crockpot. Cook on high for several hours. Turn to low and simmer several more. And yes, I'm looking forward to the "Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" release.



© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder