Niagara Falls: 10,000 Buddhas

A bad border crossing back, very slow,
And the SUV in front of us held up
As an obviously Muslim family was evicted
Until finally being allowed through.
We were grilled–
Why are you so far from home?
Are you just declaring TWO SCONES?!
And you, usually the most honest of men,
Were bent on smuggling several pounds of slightly sour cherries
Back into the U.S.A.

To read the whole poem in Awaken Consciousness Magazine: http://readacm.com/2013/04/20/niagara-falls-10000-buddhas/

Ursula Moeller’s Photographs and Haiku from Nicaragua

get-attachment-1

I feel I should sing
“De Colores” as I stroll
Nicaragua’s streets

get-attachment-5

smiling faces greet
around Granada’s corners
horses faces too

get-attachment-6

cathedral hush
votive candles flicker bright
cool stones underfoot

get-attachment

geckos behind glass
tropical decoration
better look quickly

get-attachment-3

Frederick Law Olmsted

IMG_0479

A recent visit to Fairsted, home and workshop of Frederick Law Olmsted, in Brookline, MA.

IMG_0478

Walls of a solarium.

IMG_0480

IMG_0481

IMG_0482

IMG_0484

Olmsted designed Central Park and Boston’s Emerald Necklace of parks.

IMG_0485

He is the father of landscape architecture and I see a direct line between him and land artists–different intentions but a similar desire to engage with landscape.

IMG_0487

Plus I like being in workspaces.

IMG_0488

IMG_0489

Waiting to Be Rescued–How We Got Stuck in the Sand

We were driving along a shunpike, an activity much enjoyed by my spouse. A turn of the wheel, and the Toyota was sunk in the sand, miles from nowhere. In this case, I will
A. Dig
B. Check cell phone reception
C. Call Triple A
D. Wait to be rescued
E. Walk out
F. Leave my bones for the vultures
In this instance, went for A-D. Actually, as my spouse was calling AAA, a vehicle showed up. In it were
A. Quail hunters with guns, knives, and dogs
B. Sociopathic survivalists
C. Good Samaritans
D. A & C
D. is correct. Polite young men easily towed us out. We decided to turn around and take the highway. What we learned from this was
A. I was right that shunpikes are scary (me)
B. The human spirit of exploration such as that which drove Columbus sometimes displays errors of judgment (spouse)
C. People who are different than you can rescue you
D. Gratitude is a great feeling
E. It is better to be drinking sangria with blueberry liquor in a nice Italian restaurant than stuck on a back road
F. Time to give some charitable donations as a thanks to divine providence and the county of Socorro
G. Luck–sometimes good, sometimes bad, often both
H. AAA is still a great thing as they called just as we were rescued
I. Be more cautious on sand
J. All of the Above

J. is correct.

Chairs

IMG_0382

IMG_0378

T or C, NM

Truth or Consequences, New Mexico

IMG_0374

IMG_0373

IMG_0380

Be My Love

IMG_0091

Singing Hello Dolly in the Dallas Airport

I realized recently that I’ve spent the equivalent of 15 days of my life in the Dallas Airport. I moved to Santa Fe in 1984 but the rest of my family remained east–hence Dallas.
My favorite airport in the world is Iceland’s Keflavik. It has a good music store, and an excellent supermarket. You can donate your leftover kroner in boxes marked for different charities.
But Dallas is a necessity. So–what do I like to do there?
Get a massage–at A24, B24, D20 and D24. Massage chairs along C and E.
Eat barbecue. Hey, this is Texas and you can pretend sides are healthy if they are vegetarian.
I like Dickey’s barbecue pit A18 and C6 and E12. Also Cousin’s bar-b-que at D28 but have yet to try Railhead Barbecue D18. Also, I like that no one knows how to spell the name of the cuisine–kind of like Hannukah.
Walk. Yes, you CAN walk between terminals. And stretch your legs and see odd sights like a row of rocking chairs in front of an American flag and wall of remembrance for the troops. Don’t be deterred by the info booth folks who tell you it is a very very very long walk. And that you can’t get to Terminal C. Neither of these things is true.
Sing “Hello Dolly” like Louis Armstrong on a moving walkway and embarrass my family–but only when flying west (It’s so good to have you back where you belong.)
***
I also realized I have spent the equivalent of a month at the Hilton at Logan Airport. The only thing to do here is eat a lobster roll ordered from room service. Which I am doing.

Isabel Winson-Sagan on Building A Tiny House

The Baba Yaga House

Isabel Winson-Sagan is a resident of Santa Fe, NM, and has a degree from the University of New Mexico in religious studies and evolutionary anthropology. She will soon be attending the University of Aberdeen in Scotland for further work in religious studies. She just bought the trailer for her Tiny House, and will be starting her build in the next couple of months.
***
If I were forced to provide a single, unqualified answer to the question, “Why are you building a tiny house?” I would have to say: instantaneous love. I was 8 years old when I first saw the inside of an RV trailer, while on a road trip with my parents. Afterwards I demanded of my mother, “Why don’t we live in one of these?” On some level I was wounded. My parents had always known about these perfect, tiny, ship-like houses on wheels, and had chosen to abide in our irritatingly stationary home instead.

To read the whole essay:
http://www.tumbleweedhouses.com/blogs/tumbleweed/7115460-the-baba-yaga-house

Sometimes Even A Blogger Needs a Quiet Day

IMG_0088

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 264 other followers