Category: Unusual Hobbies

  • Light at the End of the Tunnel

    In the literal sense rather than figurative. My granddaughter wanted to sit in the first car of the DC Metro Red Line, and we managed to get the front seat. I couldn’t resist a little video.

  • Just Another Day in Paradise

    Maxx Trail2Yesterday we had the kind of weather California is famous for. Gorgeous. So what could be lovelier than a trail ride soaking up all that wonderful sun?

    Yeah, I know, those of you still shivering in the clutches of winter are probably scowling at me. And some of you might be saying, “What? She has a horse? Some people have all the luck.”

    Yes, I’m majorly lucky. That little guy I’m riding is Maxx (two X’s since he’s extra special), my new Morgan gelding. Adorable to the…max. And super-fab as a trail horse.

    Fiona HeadThat round, beige thing at the bottom of the picture, by the way, is Fiona’s butt. Fiona is a Haflinger. She belongs to the friend who went with me on the trail ride. Here’s Fiona’s other end.

    Yes, I feel blessed. By the beautiful day, by the cute little Morgan I’m riding, by the chance to ride out on the trail with a friend.

    I hope you’ve got some blessings to count too.

  • Alpaca, Get Yer Alpaca Here!

    Alpaca CropSince I live out in the boonies, and countryside even boonier is close at hand, I have the opportunity to see plenty of critters that all you city folk don’t. For instance, I regularly see deer (aka, rodents with hoofs), red-tail hawk, the rare bald eagle, beaver, wild turkey, and peacocks. Okay, that last one is just a bizarre fluke since they don’t really belong in my boonies, they’ve just been brought in and set loose by someone.

    In addition to the wild critters, there are any number of domesticated and semi-domesticated animals close at hand. Horses and cattle and goats, of course, but also emus, a zebra, bison, and lovely little alpaca.

    Trebuchet sideGood friends of mine own a ranch called Bluestone Meadow up in an area of Northern California known as Apple Hill. They grow pumpkins in the fall and scrumptious, fragrant lavender year-round. They’re developing a Christmas tree farm. They have this amazing trebuchet they use to fling pumpkins with during pumpkin season.

    They’d been wanting to add alpaca to their farm, and found four females at a ranch where the breeder was selling out her stock. I was about to sell my horse trailer, but I took it on one last haul up to Grass Valley.

    Alpaca TrailerIt was very entertaining watching them wrangle the “girls” onboard. Alpaca don’t exactly lead as willingly as a horse (at least these didn’t–they were a bit rusty). But what’s cool is that when alpaca ride in a trailer, they “cush” (if I’ve got the spelling right). They lie down, which makes them much easier to transport than horses.

    Once the first two were in, the second two should have been a piece of cake. But while the third alpaca hopped right in, the final one had to be persuaded. It took a little wrassling, lifting her front feet onto the trailer bed to persuade her back feet to follow. But then even she was inside, and we were ready to head out.

    Alpaca FieldThey traveled pretty well (although a few times, I wondered if one or more of them had un-cushed because the trailer was rocking) and after backing the trailer into the pasture gate, they all exited and explored their new digs. I took a couple of videos, one of them wandering about, and one of the smallest girl, Foxy, meeting Jake, one of their the Bluestone Meadow dogs.

    http://youtu.be/oUZiqJtcmXY
    http://youtu.be/21x9DOLZrtg

    A footnote about Jake. He was obsessed with these new giant creatures and managed to make his way into the pasture while my friends were away. When my friends found him and got him out again, he was covered with stinky alpaca spit. I hope he learned his lesson.

  • Rules of Dance, Rules of Life

    DSC00613aFor the last ten years or so, my husband and I have been folk dancing. We were pulled into it by our younger son, who started folk dancing in high school.

    For those who have never done it, folk dancing is international, both in content and participation. In the years we’ve been dancing, we’ve done dances from Israel, Poland, France, Spain, Mexico, India, Japan, Romania, Italy, England, Scotland, Portugal, Croatia, Bulgaria, the US, and probably several others I’ve forgotten. They’re mostly choreographed, that is, set steps to set pieces of music. But sometimes we’ll do some freestyle swing or tango or waltz. We even once taught an American 4-wall polka dance in the Netherlands. Or rather, my hubby taught while I helped demonstrate the steps.

    Most of what our particular Friday night group does is couple dances. Those dances include the raucous American Maple Leaf Rag and the tender Israeli Metzuit Acharet. We also do set dances for three or four or five couples, or “as many as will” English Country dances and Contras. We do fit in the occasional non-partner dance like the Romanian Te Aven Baxtale (video here). If you’re looking for me in the video, I’m the one with the gray top and white skirt and shoes.

    One recent Friday night, it occurred to me that there are some rules of dance that seem to apply to life as well. Between dances, I started recording the rules that came to me.

    If it’s time to circle, put out your hand and someone will catch it

    When a circle comes up in a dance, you don’t have to look around left and right to find the hands of the people next to you. Just throw out your hands and the other dancers will be there to grab. By the same token, when it’s time to join up with others and do something together, trust that they will bring you in and make you part of the group.

    If your partner throws you, trust that he will catch you

    Some of the couple dances we do are quite lively. They’re generally lead-follow dances, and sometimes the lead will send the follow out in a fast spin. The follow has to trust that the lead won’t send them into outer space, that they will grab hold and bring them close again. In life, sometimes your spouse, or partner, or a friend will suggest you take a chance, something that’s a stretch, but good for you. And they’re going to back you up. Trust that they’ll catch you if you need it.

    Camp 2008 018mA two-step isn’t two steps

    I’ve always thought the two-step was the most oddly named dance step. Because it’s really three steps, a one-two-three in a slow-quick-slow pattern. Life can be like that. Labels aren’t always accurate. They’re not always meant to be taken literally. Sometimes they’re just a name to call something, and it’s best not to get too hung up in what you think the thing should really be called.

    If you don’t know the dance, look for someone who does and follow them

    I’ll do this often when I’m learning a new dance, or decide to join in a simple line dance that I’ve never done before. I just keep an eye on someone a couple places up from me, someone who knows how to do the dance, and I imitate what their feet are doing. In life, there’s always someone to follow. Some folks might be flailing around as much as you are, and if you follow them, you could step on someone’s toes. Instead, look for the one who knows what they’re doing and follow in their footsteps.

    If you can’t run, skip. If you can’t skip, then walk. If you can’t walk, stand and sway

    This is something I learned first hand when I broke a bone in my ankle recently. I couldn’t dance. I certainly couldn’t skip. But I could walk a little, and I could certainly stand and sway. In life, you’ll always have the ability to do something to take part in what’s going on. It might not be as fancy as the next person, but it’s your contribution, and no one else can do it like you.

    Dancing1The music will tell you what to do

    This is kind of an inside joke amongst folk dancers. A dance will come up on the program that we were once taught, but we haven’t done in quite a while. So we turn on the music, and see if our bodies can remember the steps. Sometimes it does work–we hear the music and the steps just come. Other times we fumble and laugh and decide to do the dance another night after checking the notes. But just as in dance, in life it’s good sometimes to just plunge in and see if you can figure it out as you go along. If it flops, at least you made the effort. But maybe you’ll hear the music and know just what to do.

    It’s not the wrong step–it’s a variation

    This is another inside joke of folk dance. Sometimes we’ll forget some part of the dance, so we substitute another step that seems to fit. We justify it by saying, “Well, in some village, somewhere, they might have done it this way.” So if you do something that’s not quite in step with the way everyone else is doing it, that’s just your variation. That’s the way you learned it in your village.

    Everyone gets a chance to be the number one couple

    “Number one couple” is a term used in set dances. The number one couple is usually the one that is the active couple, and is doing all the really fun steps of the set. But what’s cool about set dances is that the number one couple switches around to everyone. So we all get a chance to do those fun, active steps. It can be the same in life–someday, somehow, you will get your chance to be in the limelight. You will get the chance to show off your fancy steps. And everyone will be watching your dance.

  • Spiders and Roaches and Ants, Oh My!

    I’m not a particularly bug-phobic person. The other day at the National Zoo, there was a spider crawling on my hand (maybe it escaped from an exhibit :-)). Rather than shriek, I carefully found a place for him in the bushes. I don’t like flies in my car, but I’m glad to open a window and let them out rather than squish them.

    OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAnts, though, that’s another story. The problem with those little buggers is that you might see one or two on the kitchen counter one day, and the next, they’re swarming over everything. Then it’s out with the ant poison.

    Although I search and destroy inside ants, I tend to take a live and let live attitude with the outside variety. That’s if they agree to the detente. If not, it’s every insect and woman for themselves.

    One day I’d just ridden my horse, and decided to let her graze on some lush green grass. She’s a nicely trained horse, so I just dropped the lead rope and let her pull it along the ground as she ate.

    When snack time was over, I picked up the lead rope which had been dragging through the grass. Moments later I felt a stinging on my wrist. Eew, a big black ant. I brushed it off. I then realized there were many black ants crawling all over my shirt. I slapped them away. Felt more on my neck. Got pretty frantic, dancing around popping off ants, threw off my shirt (I had a sports bra underneath), shook it out, examined every inch of fabric. Phew. No ants.

    Put the shirt back on, then the barn owner came out. I told her what had happened and she starts slapping ants off me. Strip off the shirt again, shake, shake, shake, dance, dance, dance. Finally, finally, I am ant-free. I unclipped the offending lead rope from my mare and led her to her stall holding her halter.

    When I got home, I showered, of course. Darned if another ant didn’t wash down the drain. Brr.

    Another close encounter involved the mailbox. When I went out to get the paper, I checked the mailbox. A Netflix envelope…decorated with ants. I picked up the envelope to shake off the ants and OMG! A zillion ant eggs had been laid overnight under the Netflix envelope and ants were swarming all over the eggs.

    Cue the tingly pricklies (not the good kind). I ran for the hose and blasted the inside of the mailbox for about an hour (okay, just a couple of minutes) until I was pretty sure all those ants and eggs had vacated. Then I got the RAID and sprayed a barrier around the supporting post of the mailbox.

    A few ants returned, probably wondering what had happened to their progeny (and yeah, I felt a little guilty about that). For a while, I was checking every morning to make sure we weren’t hosting an insect kindercare in our mailbox. And it also took a while to finally stop feeling ants crawling on my skin.

    So, any good creepy crawly stories out there? Close encounters of the insect kind? Do share.

    (Addendum: I do have a roach story. It involves a microwave. And the fact that microwaves do not bother a roach one whit)