Tomorrow I'm going to the Huntington Gardens with a friend from yoga, Liz. I don't know her too well, but we have previously gone to a yoga cooking lesson together, so I think that we are good to go on a longer trip. She is driving, of course. I don't do freeways, as you know.
I hope to remember to take my camera to take pictures of the gorgeous Chinese garden.
More anon.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Field Trip
Three students showed up for the field trip yesterday afternoon. Because there were so few, we were allowed to pull our cars inside the garden, which stayed open especially for us. The botanist, Laura, was not quite sure what to make of us, with our ready notebooks and pens and odd (for a botanist) questions about the plants on display.
We were impressed by the California native plant gardens, organized by region--coast, region, etc. She said that desert plants were not represented in the garden, as they were considered a completely different climate, despite the fact that they were technically well within California.
Then we looked at the South African bulb gardens and some "legacy trees" that had been planted there long ago, when the University was first built.
I took down a number of lovely common names, such as "Whistling Acacia"--this was a wonderful tree, covered with tiny yellow pompons. This particularly tree didn't whistle. The ones in the wild make a sound because they are colonized by ants that make a hollow gall through which the wind passes: hence the whistling. But the ants can't live in this climate. Too warm. And there was another South African plant, Jholla, which sounded like our native Cholla, but was a completely different sort of plant. It looked like a string of green coins, about the sound of silver dollars.
I of course forgot my camera, but my student, Roxanne, took great pictures. She just hasn't sent them to me yet. I will put some up when I get them.
We were impressed by the California native plant gardens, organized by region--coast, region, etc. She said that desert plants were not represented in the garden, as they were considered a completely different climate, despite the fact that they were technically well within California.
Then we looked at the South African bulb gardens and some "legacy trees" that had been planted there long ago, when the University was first built.
I took down a number of lovely common names, such as "Whistling Acacia"--this was a wonderful tree, covered with tiny yellow pompons. This particularly tree didn't whistle. The ones in the wild make a sound because they are colonized by ants that make a hollow gall through which the wind passes: hence the whistling. But the ants can't live in this climate. Too warm. And there was another South African plant, Jholla, which sounded like our native Cholla, but was a completely different sort of plant. It looked like a string of green coins, about the sound of silver dollars.
I of course forgot my camera, but my student, Roxanne, took great pictures. She just hasn't sent them to me yet. I will put some up when I get them.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Riding in the Car with Jeremy
Jeremy and I set each other off. That's putting it mildly, actually. I spent much of my early life with my father, whose manic attentions to me came to a head when he was trying to teach me how to drive. I was about 15 when I started, and he continued the fruitless and nightmarish efforts until I was about 18. I never did learn to drive from him because of his bipolar rage. He would go off at me at the slightest hint of indecision or fear, which of course made things much much worse. Consequently, it was not until I was well past 40 that I finally got my license, after several sets of driving lessons, efforts by Richard, and by several friends. It took a while to shake the negative conditioning and associations.
It all seemed to begin again though when I put Jeremy into the car (out of necessity) when he was learning to driving. His front, back, side seat driving intensified until it sounded an awful lot like my father's hectoring. Nothing I did was ever right; he would rage and scream, and it would escalate until he ended up slamming the car door and going into the house, where he would heave huge cartons of Gator Aid across the room and throw all my papers into the air.
This happened again yesterday. This was following a discussion we had last week where he denied that he had rage. As usual, it was all my fault because I set off his anger.
It appears that my efforts to avoid setting off his anger are the very thing that do it. I cannot do anything about that. He just needs medication, and I need to keep him out of my car.
It all seemed to begin again though when I put Jeremy into the car (out of necessity) when he was learning to driving. His front, back, side seat driving intensified until it sounded an awful lot like my father's hectoring. Nothing I did was ever right; he would rage and scream, and it would escalate until he ended up slamming the car door and going into the house, where he would heave huge cartons of Gator Aid across the room and throw all my papers into the air.
This happened again yesterday. This was following a discussion we had last week where he denied that he had rage. As usual, it was all my fault because I set off his anger.
It appears that my efforts to avoid setting off his anger are the very thing that do it. I cannot do anything about that. He just needs medication, and I need to keep him out of my car.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Friday the 13th
I forgot till just now that it was supposed to be an unlucky day. Besides the fact that the store from which I had received an advertising mailer (Burlington) never stocked the thing on the mailer I went there for today, and the fact that my parents weren't there when I stopped off hoping to take my dad to buy tomato plants today rather than this weekend, it's been a pleasant day, actually. I went to yoga, met with students at the library, and went to the store for the fruitless errand of buying that bedding. Oh well.
Workshop
We had a workshop last night in which we focused on the poetic line. It was interesting studying poems with long lines, like Ginsberg's poem "At a Supermarket in California" and concrete and graphic poems, as well as poems that used lining to create meaning (almost anything by Heather McHugh, but we looked at "A Man in the Street"). Then we did a kitchen sink sort of exercise where students used longer or shorter lines than usual and had to mention a particular song or movie, a kitchen appliance, a person they hadn't seen in years, a town they had never lived in, and had to use 3 of the following words: spinach, mucus, wrinkle, sprawling. We all had fun trying to pack all of this in there; I don't think anyone,including me, was able to use mucus successfully. I tried, as you would expect, having the character in the poem microwave spinach to "a pool of mucus" (visualize pond scum), but it just wasn't happening. Actually, I think these perameters lend themselves more to a short story than a poem. That was the feeling of most of the resulting stuff.
Tomorrow we meet for our field trip at the arboratum. I'll let you know how it goes.
Tomorrow we meet for our field trip at the arboratum. I'll let you know how it goes.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The family saga continues
Last night the Torah group met again, this time to discuss the Joseph story. Like any good drama, this one is interspersed with several parallel plots. In addition to the story of the twerp, Joseph, the favorite son who rats on his older brothers and sports fancy duds, there is also the story of Tamar and Judah, which I had not really been familiar with. Tamar is another of those female heroes in the Torah who continue the Jewish people despite everything. Judah is Jacob's son, one of those who threw Joseph in the pit and wanted to kill him, but after his wife's death, he sleeps with his disguised daughter in law, Tamar, who has been widowed by two of his sons. He sees her as a kind of black widow, though there is no evidence at all that she has been responsible for his ne'r do well sons' deaths. The book gives God full responsibility for that, as a form of punishment for sexual and other perversions. Tamar has been promised to the youngest son, in another Levirite marriage (marriage by the next male relative in mind to continue the line), but Judah has not acted on his promise, so Tamar takes things into her own hand, disguises herself as a prostitute, and waylays the horny Judah at the gates of the town. After he sleeps with her, she demands his rod and his staff (a possession of his phallus, an emasculation but also a symbolic marriage), and this saves her life later, when she turns up pregnant (with twins, again! What a family for these multiples!), and Judah accepts responsibility for her act, since he did not give her his son in marriage, as promised, but he never touches her again.
These dramas are tied to Joseph's story by garments--Tamar's veil, with which she disguises her identity, the rod and staff by which Judah's identity and responsibility are revealed parallel Joseph's tell-tale coat, sign of his power and status.
Interestingly, the commentators have seen Joseph as possibly gay. The Torah speaks of his beauty, and the rabbis ran with this. He is a tattletale, not a physical man, unlike his violent, brutal brothers. Supposedly he has curly eyelashes and certainly he struts about like a queen in the transvestite's parade in Provincetown MA (I have several times attended this most interesting event).
This puts a whole different spin on his adventure with Potaphar's unnamed wife, especially since Potaphar himself is intially described with a word that means "eunich." A member of the group told us that it was very common for any male posted near the palace to be castrated, since the pharoah's harem was so large and so alluring that this precaution was deemed necessary. So perhaps Potaphar acquired Joseph to service his wife--or to service Potaphar himself? Who knows? In any case, I never gave the story this spin before. It resonates differently, doesn't it?
I am enjoying this ongoing group, though it is hard to fit it into my already busy life.
These dramas are tied to Joseph's story by garments--Tamar's veil, with which she disguises her identity, the rod and staff by which Judah's identity and responsibility are revealed parallel Joseph's tell-tale coat, sign of his power and status.
Interestingly, the commentators have seen Joseph as possibly gay. The Torah speaks of his beauty, and the rabbis ran with this. He is a tattletale, not a physical man, unlike his violent, brutal brothers. Supposedly he has curly eyelashes and certainly he struts about like a queen in the transvestite's parade in Provincetown MA (I have several times attended this most interesting event).
This puts a whole different spin on his adventure with Potaphar's unnamed wife, especially since Potaphar himself is intially described with a word that means "eunich." A member of the group told us that it was very common for any male posted near the palace to be castrated, since the pharoah's harem was so large and so alluring that this precaution was deemed necessary. So perhaps Potaphar acquired Joseph to service his wife--or to service Potaphar himself? Who knows? In any case, I never gave the story this spin before. It resonates differently, doesn't it?
I am enjoying this ongoing group, though it is hard to fit it into my already busy life.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Yoga and cooking
Yesterday I went to an Indian cooking lesson at the home of a friend from yoga, another lovely place in San Juan Capistrano, though not the palace of a few weeks ago. Short of cash because her husband lost his job, she decided to try teaching us to cook daal and rice, something she herself learned to do from her ayervedic doctor some time ago.
I have in the past made dal, but it has been a while, so I decided to join in the party and renew my acquaintance with this Indian dish.
For those who aren't familiar with it, dal is a staple of Indian vegetarian cooking made of lentils, spices, and onion. Its pure, simple heartiness plays off of the subtle sauces and complex preparation of other Indian dishes.
The secret of making good dal, apparently, is the quality of the few ingredients. Our hostess bought organic spices, rice, lentils, and vegetables, including spinach. She said that any vegetable could be combined with the lentils, but she chose spinach for its vibrant contrast with the orange of the lentils, and stressed the need for the cooks' positive attitude and anticipation as we prepared the meal.
Unlike me, with my haphazard and frenzied approach to meal preparation, she was meticulous about the thinness of the slicing, the focus of the cook as she prepared each individual ingredient.
There were 7 of us, only one other person I knew initially, and only one pot, one frying pan, so we took turns doing the tasks necessary to prepare the meal.
When it was finished, I had already noshed on the organic non-gluten crackers and had two cups of rose tea, which smelled like a fresh bouquet of American Beauties. All of us had developed an appetite in the preparation, and enjoyed our meal.
Our hostess had gained a good deal from this way of eating and living. She had epilepsy as a child and young adult, but with yoga, meditation, and ayervedic diet, she completely eliminated the symptoms and the need for medication. Though I do not attend her yoga classes, since I study only Iyengar yoga and she is not an Iyengar teacher, I consider her a friend and thank her for her assistance in Bob's yoga class, where she sometimes gently corrects my asanas.
Here is the recipe she gave us:
1 cup of Masoor Dal (split red lentils)
1/2 tsp of organic mineral salt
pure water
1-2 tbs of ghee, Indian clarified butter, which comes in a can, or make your
own
1/2 thinly sliced organic onion
1 tsp cumin seed
a pinch of asafetida (hing) [caution! make it a relatively small pinch; this is
potent stuff, which in abundance can make your home smell like the inside
of an old gym shoe]
1/2 tsp turmeric (she recommended organic, since regular can be cut with
other spices)
1-2 fingers of finely chopped organic ginger
1 thinly sliced bunch of spinach (or any green vegetable, such as asparagus,
chard, etc.)
1 small chopped bunch of cilantro
1 chopped avocado
organic salt and pepper to taste
Garnish with finely chopped organic cilantro, avocado cubes, a nd sliced organic lime. Serves 4 with basmati rice.
Rinse the lentils until the water becomes less cloudy (approximately 4 or 5 times)
Soak lentils for 45 minutes
Rinse and replace the water till it is about 3 fingers above the level of the lentils
Bring to a boil partially covered; then skim off the foam! This is important because otherwise
you'll get gas.
Reduce the heat, adding salt and turmeric.
Cover and cook until creamy, which takes a while.
In a separate small saute pan, heat the ghee on high.
Add cumin seeds till they pop (watch your eyes)
Reduce heat, adding the onion to the cumin seeds and onion, and saute till the onions are translucent.
Add other spices (the ginger and asafetida)
Pour all of the contents of the frying pan into the lentils, stir, and then serve over the rice.
Serve with naan or flatbread.
I have in the past made dal, but it has been a while, so I decided to join in the party and renew my acquaintance with this Indian dish.
For those who aren't familiar with it, dal is a staple of Indian vegetarian cooking made of lentils, spices, and onion. Its pure, simple heartiness plays off of the subtle sauces and complex preparation of other Indian dishes.
The secret of making good dal, apparently, is the quality of the few ingredients. Our hostess bought organic spices, rice, lentils, and vegetables, including spinach. She said that any vegetable could be combined with the lentils, but she chose spinach for its vibrant contrast with the orange of the lentils, and stressed the need for the cooks' positive attitude and anticipation as we prepared the meal.
Unlike me, with my haphazard and frenzied approach to meal preparation, she was meticulous about the thinness of the slicing, the focus of the cook as she prepared each individual ingredient.
There were 7 of us, only one other person I knew initially, and only one pot, one frying pan, so we took turns doing the tasks necessary to prepare the meal.
When it was finished, I had already noshed on the organic non-gluten crackers and had two cups of rose tea, which smelled like a fresh bouquet of American Beauties. All of us had developed an appetite in the preparation, and enjoyed our meal.
Our hostess had gained a good deal from this way of eating and living. She had epilepsy as a child and young adult, but with yoga, meditation, and ayervedic diet, she completely eliminated the symptoms and the need for medication. Though I do not attend her yoga classes, since I study only Iyengar yoga and she is not an Iyengar teacher, I consider her a friend and thank her for her assistance in Bob's yoga class, where she sometimes gently corrects my asanas.
Here is the recipe she gave us:
1 cup of Masoor Dal (split red lentils)
1/2 tsp of organic mineral salt
pure water
1-2 tbs of ghee, Indian clarified butter, which comes in a can, or make your
own
1/2 thinly sliced organic onion
1 tsp cumin seed
a pinch of asafetida (hing) [caution! make it a relatively small pinch; this is
potent stuff, which in abundance can make your home smell like the inside
of an old gym shoe]
1/2 tsp turmeric (she recommended organic, since regular can be cut with
other spices)
1-2 fingers of finely chopped organic ginger
1 thinly sliced bunch of spinach (or any green vegetable, such as asparagus,
chard, etc.)
1 small chopped bunch of cilantro
1 chopped avocado
organic salt and pepper to taste
Garnish with finely chopped organic cilantro, avocado cubes, a nd sliced organic lime. Serves 4 with basmati rice.
Rinse the lentils until the water becomes less cloudy (approximately 4 or 5 times)
Soak lentils for 45 minutes
Rinse and replace the water till it is about 3 fingers above the level of the lentils
Bring to a boil partially covered; then skim off the foam! This is important because otherwise
you'll get gas.
Reduce the heat, adding salt and turmeric.
Cover and cook until creamy, which takes a while.
In a separate small saute pan, heat the ghee on high.
Add cumin seeds till they pop (watch your eyes)
Reduce heat, adding the onion to the cumin seeds and onion, and saute till the onions are translucent.
Add other spices (the ginger and asafetida)
Pour all of the contents of the frying pan into the lentils, stir, and then serve over the rice.
Serve with naan or flatbread.
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