Research Jam Session

 

Yesterday I worked on campus because we had a co-working session for FART 5, and I love those. I walked with Hardingfele at lunch and tried to ask if any of my novel is salvageable, since she is the only other person who has ever read it, and she couldn't remember anything but the protagonist's name. Fair enough, it's been many years. Then I took the bus to adoration, and Travalon came to meet me so we could go to the baked wings place on State Street that he waited so patiently for. Seriously, it took that place years to open - you'd see the sign "Baked Wings," but it was empty. Always giving false hope, but now it gives real hope, or at least baked wings.

Today Travalon drove me to work again, and I had a meeting with the head of one section about what funds they have for the coming year. There was no time to walk with Seabird between that meeting and our department staff meeting at one, and Wednesday is the only day we are both on campus nowadays. However, soon she will be moving to my building, so it would be easy to see her even if we only had fifteen minutes to walk, like today.

The fun thing I did today was go to a research study on community-building using music improv. We aren't supposed to discuss the session, which I get, since it's part of the guy's thesis research, but I will say that we were supposed to improvise on a four-note repeating phrase, and I thought it sounded like flamenco. I said, "It's E Phrygian with a raised third, like they use in flamenco," and another person said, "You are really overthinking this." Maybe I do, and maybe that's because for years I did music by instinct, and then I found out there were words for all these things I noticed, so now I'm all excited to use my words. The problem is that a lot of other people don't understand them.

Afterwards Travalon and I met at the Union Terrace, as we used to do on Wednesdays in the summer. On Wednesdays the sailboats are out racing with their spinnakers up, and it's so relaxing to watch the colorful triangles gliding across the water. Wednesdays are also Open Mic Night on the Terrace, and tonight they started with the Raging Grannies, a protest choir of old ladies in crazy hats. Since I'm getting up there in age, and I love to sing, protest, and wear crazy hats, I may have to consider joining them. Art Paul Schlosser also sang some of his silly songs with the kazoo solos, and a girl with a pretty good voice sang who I swear sang last week, even the same songs. We ordered a pizza for dinner, and it was taking so long for our buzzer to go off that I went in to ask about it. First the guy told me they made the wrong pizza and they were going to remake it. I asked, "What kind of pizza did they make?" and he said, "They put every topping on it but one." While Travalon wouldn't have eaten that, it sounded good to me, so I figured he could just pick the veggies off, and I asked if we could have it anyway. The guy left and came back with a pizza, and this time he said it was the right pizza but they had burned it a little, so they were going to remake it. I was too hungry to bother with that, and only a little bit was burned, so I took it. When we took the burned part off, it wasn't even a whole slice worth, and we both had enough for dinner tonight plus some leftovers. It was much cooler at the Terrace than last week, but we had come prepared with jackets, so we had a fine time. I kept seeing people who looked familiar, even a woman from my improv just a couple of hours earlier. I guess everyone ends up at the Terrace sooner or later.

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Afternoon at Olbrich

 

Today I got to have a "sick day" from work because I had to take Travalon to a medical procedure. He was supposed to have a "responsible adult" to talk to the doctor and drive him home, but I was the only one available. The procedure went smoothly, and I got some DuoLingo done while it was going on. Duo the Owl thinks I'm faster doing Spanish lessons than he is rollerblading.

Since he hadn't been able to eat before the procedure, Travalon was ravenous, so we went to Silk Road, a Tajikistani restaurant near the hospital. I had this amazing thing that was tubes of grilled eggplant stuffed with lamb, in tomato sauce and some soft cheese like ricotta, so it seemed like Italian food. Travalon had a delectable chicken wing kebab. We also had a tea that was like warm lemonade with ginger and mint in it, which may sound weird but it was delicious, and for dessert we had cheese wrapped in phyllo dough served with pistachio ice cream. I highly recommend all of it.

We took a walk in Olbrich Gardens, which is gearing up for GLEAM, their annual light sculpture show, so the Thai Pavilion was not accessible. We saw these silver globes in the Sunken Garden.

We saw three colors of hibiscus, but the pale pink one was too far away to take a photo.

In the gift shop we bought a stuffed toucan.

Then we took a second walk on Governor's Island, and then we came home. It was unseasonably cool today, like a day in autumn, and really good for walking outside.

As promised, here are some photos from Travalon's visit to Horicon Marsh. I may post more tomorrow, but this is a sampling. He saw two of the three white birds: egrets, pelicans, and swans.

As usual, the pelicans were with cormorants.

The swans had teenage offspring.

They also saw pie-billed grebes.

What is this egret looking at?

And there were lots of these sandpipers.

Some of them were hanging out with ducks.

Then they saw a beautiful sunset over the lake in Pardeeville.

I may post more photos from his trip tomorrow.

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Hookah Party and Steel Drums

 

Yesterday I met Tiffy downtown for an early lunch at the Globe, then we drove to the outdoor theater to see Fallen Angels, a play by Noel Coward. This was the play we had been most interested in when the Dairyman's Daughter gave us the list of plays we could get discounted tickets for, but I already had Mallards tickets for the night it was cheap. We decided driving home in the middle of the night on a Friday after a whole workweek was a lot anyway, so Tiffy got full-price tickets for the Saturday afternoon showing. Had we known, we could have waited for a day when tickets are half price, because wow are they expensive at full price! Meanwhile, the Dairyman's Daughter had won tickets in a silent auction, and she could choose any date, so she decided to go the date we were going. During the day there is a large awning over the stage to protect the actors from the sun, but nothing to protect us, unless we wore a hat like some very intelligent people did. (Just sayin.') The Dairyman's Daughter got a bit burned and bought some sunscreen during intermission. Wow, did we get hot out there! By the second half the sun had gone behind the trees enough so that we were in shade, and we wondered why they didn't just start the play an hour and a half later. It was a hilarious play about two women fearing they would be tempted to adultery by an old flame coming to town. Afterwards all three of us went out to dinner at the Riverside Resort, but all the outdoor seating that was actually riverside was full, so we had to sit inside and content ourselves with looking out the window.

After that Tiffy and I drove to Deerfield for an Arabian Nights Hookah Party co-hosted by Mamastep and the actual owner of the house, which had a spectacular garden he had filled with beautiful lights and tables with hookahs on them. People brought Mideastern food, and Mideastern music played in the background. The co-host and his paramour wore matching shirts. His house was full of orchids, and I loved this rug.

I should have taken a photo of the garden. Tiffy just stayed at a table on the deck and smoked the hookah with lemon cake flavored tobacco, but I went around and tried all the flavors: sweet corn, cappuccino (very disappointing), passionfruit, and banana milkshake. A woman I am friends with on social media said to her the banana milkshake was the uncanny valley of banana, which led to a discussion of the House on the Rock, the premier site of experiencing the uncanny valley. This morphed into a discussion of the problems with agriculture in this country, and Mamastep said, "I'd like to change the topic to manure," which isn't really changing it, and my social media buddy said, "By all means, let's talk sh-t." We all lost it, and her husband said, "That's why I married her!" She also brought pistachio cream tartlets in phyllo dough cups with chocolate drizzled on top in an attempt to make her own Dubai chocolate, and they were incredible. Travalon (who had been at Horicon all day with his high school buddy - photos soon) arrived and tried the different hookahs, and he loved the banana milkshake one, which was my second favorite. Almost everyone liked the lemon cake one best. When the party was winding down and I thought most people had left, I popped inside to powder my nose and discovered a small party in the living room, listening to Boismortier. When I mentioned it to the host, he said, "I changed the music to Egyptian jazz, but they must have changed it back." I said, "Egyptian jazz sounds cool," and he said, "Oh, it is!" but far be it from me to criticize anyone for listening to French Baroque composers. This was the coolest party I've been to in years, and I got home very late, so it felt a little like college again.

Today I felt a little queasy (too much hookah?), and at Mass it didn't help that a woman ahead of me had disgusting growths on her shoulders, and someone was having issues with flatulence, but I made it through. We were just going to go home and have a simple lunch there, but Travalon wanted to stop at the coffee shop on North Street, and outside of it was a truck selling lobster products. We got all distracted and forgot about the coffee; I was going to get a good, old-fashioned lobster roll, but they had a lobster grilled cheese sandwich on the menu, and I remembered those fondly from Bimini. Travalon got the lobster tail with tater tots. What an incredible find!

Travalon and I took a walk on Governor's Island, then we checked out a mysterious trail in the woods we had seen nearby, but it only went about twenty feet and then dead-ended, so we walked on the trail across from the bluff. We met Jilly Moose at the East Side Club to hear the steel drum band, and I hadn't realized that both of my Brazilian drumming teachers were in it. Toward the end of the concert it rained a tiny bit, so a bunch of people left, but we hardcore types (including a coworker from years ago) stuck it out. I saw this mysterious arch inside the East Side Club. It looks like it's for an autumn wedding, but it's not autumn yet!

And here is a gaming machine I saw at the Riverside Resort. Am I the only one who find this vaguely dirty?

And my tradescantia that is outside is blooming. This is a "bonus plant," because the pot is supposed to have a fuchsia plant in it, but that died and this plant appeared out of nowhere.

Tonight I had band practice, but I was a bit late getting there after the steel drum concert, so Hardingfele said, "You weren't trapping cats, so what's your excuse??" Apparently she was almost as late as I was. Our bassist was playing fiddle, so there were four fiddles, and I said, "Man, I almost brought my fiddle - we could have had five!" The bassist got her bass, and she let me play her fiddle on some klezmer tunes. It felt weird to go back to playing the mandolin again after all that time with my violin, but we got reacquainted with each other. She desperately needs new strings, so that is a project for sometime soon. Travalon bought me a set at one point, but I have no idea where they went. I might as well just buy new ones.

I forgot to mention that during Irish Fest I was hanging out with a pescatarian (Famie) and a hardcore vegetarian (the red-headed flute player), so I ate like them and never felt better. I came home resolved to continue this but quickly reverted to my old habits and then felt kind of sick. Today at the East Side Club the cheeseburgers grilling smelled so good, so I caved and had one... and it was incredible. Travalon agrees it was the best he'd had in a long time.

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Dane Dance 2025

 

Today I worked from home, and at lunch I drove to Governor's Island and walked there. It seems a shame to drive more than necessary, but it's a wonderful walk, and that way I don't run into that crazy neighbor who stalked me back home. There were some partiers in Three Foot Bay, but the really loud music was off the front of the island, and when I was able to get to a spot where I could see the water, the source was Midnight Splash, the big party boat in our neighborhood. People can rent Midnight Splash, and I believe it's a house boat so they could stay on it all weekend.

In the evening Travalon and I went to the Monona Terrace for our first (and probably only) Dane Dance this year. We had some soul food (catfish, hush puppies, cole slaw, cheesy hash browns, and street corn) for dinner and a cornbread muffin for dessert. The first band was a Latin band, but the leader spent entirely too much time talking for my taste. Travalon said the colors of my hat and shirt went well together, so I asked him to take a photo.

It was a gorgeous night. Here we both are enjoying it. Travalon took this selfie.

The second band was a Motown cover band. The sun set, and the sky was pink.

Here's the same scene after darkness fell.

Here are the lights of the Monona Terrace.

Sitting on a roof under the lights, listening to music, made me think of a novel I never finished, one where the characters lived in St. Louis and Kansas City. It was my adolescent fever dream of what life as a sophisticated adult would be like, but I still wouldn't know, since I have yet to become a sophisticated adult. However, I do get to listen to music under lights on a rooftop, and I do get to go to St. Louis and Kansas City. I also thought of the novel I did finish, because Kathbert was able to salvage a couple of files of my poetry that Rich had, and so I asked if she could work her magic on the files from the novel. (Each chapter is its own file, and I shuddered at how pretentious their names were.) I remembered this novel as being atrocious, but I read a chapter in the middle of it and had some trouble remembering who was who in the cast of thousands, but I found it hilarious. Then I read the first chapter and found some of the cringier stuff. It's quite dated in some ways. Kathbert said maybe I could salvage the good stuff and write a leaner, better novel. What I need is an editor who could help me do that. Is any of it worth saving? That chapter in the middle is, but it can't stand alone. Also, the pace was frenetic. Reading this novel always puts me in a weird headspace, so I haven't done it in years. The only other person who ever read it was Hardingfele, and she said it was so weird that she couldn't put it down. Is that a positive review?

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Thirsty Thursday and Brazilian Music

 

Today I worked on campus, and I was hoping to walk with Hardingfele to ask her how the Ukrainian gig I couldn't attend went, but she had meetings all day. I did tell my one coworker the knock-knock joke I heard last night, and then we were talking to a third coworker, and when I told them about the play Anna in the Tropics, she said her grandpa was one of those readers in a cigar factory in Cuba. He came to this country, but when he went back to visit his family, Castro wanted to meet him and was sending a car around for him the next day, so that night he got on a plane back to the US and never went back again. I said there was hardly anything I loved more than Cuban music, except maybe Brazilian music... and then I got an email that tonight the bar samba band would be playing at Working Draft Brewery again. Yay!

Our condo association in the past would do Thirsty Thursday out on the dock, where people would bring their own drinks and maybe an appetizer or treat to share. Of course this happened more before the pandemic, when I had to work on campus every Thursday so never got home in time, since most people were retired early so they would start well before the end of my workday. The practice died off a bit after the pandemic, but they would try to do one or two a summer. This summer I was working from home every Thursday because of Travalon's work schedule, and I could have popped right over there just after five, but ironically we didn't have one until today, my first Thursday back on campus in months. By the time I got home, it had been going for an hour and a half, so I wasn't sure anyone would still be out there. However, I spotted this car parked at Mariner's and had to go take a photo:

So then I went out on the dock and found a few people left out there, and one had brought freshly made brownies. Somehow politics came up, and we were relieved to find out we all agreed on the subject. One woman also works on campus, and she said one day her husband took her to work in the boat. If we could do that too, it would cut so much time off my commute, but our little boat isn't fast enough to go across the lake like that.

When Travalon came home, we went to hear the Brazilian music. We ordered a sour beer, and look how beautiful it is!

It's based on a Blue Hawaiian, which is a drink Tiffy once got sick on in college so now she won't drink anything blue. However, this is green, a lovely Kelly green. And it is delicious!

There were tons of people at Working Draft, and I saw a few of my classmates from drum lessons, and also one of my teachers performing with this band. He doesn't usually perform with them, but after they finished the set, I was going to go talk to them but the equipment suddenly made terrible, loud, squealing feedback, so Travalon said, "Let's get out of here!" I may never know why that teacher was sitting in with this band, but it's all part of the greater Handphibian universe, so I'm not surprised there's crossover.

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Double-Booked on the Terrace

 

Today did not start out fortuitously. I was still sick and ended up having to change my clothes, but I couldn't stay home because today was the big welcome luncheon for the new grad students, and I had to bring the sparkling water I'd bought yesterday. Then Travalon couldn't find his sunglasses, but somehow he got me to work on time. I was wearing my favorite turquoise top that I always seem to spill food on, and sure enough, during lunch sauce dripped from my sandwich onto my top. I got it mostly cleaned up with soap and water, but the stains were still faintly visible. Luckily when I use stain remover before doing the laundry, they have always come out... so far. Because of the luncheon, I couldn't walk with Seabird at lunch, but she stopped by to get the key to her new office in my building (where she used to work), and we checked it out. It's a big shared office, and I found this smiley face in it.

Then we took a short walk outside. I spent most of the day working on a spreadsheet for a faculty member and was sick of looking at my computer screen by the time five o'clock rolled around. That's when things got really interesting.

The committee I was on to write a report on ageism at the university planned to get together to celebrate finishing the report, and somehow I was the one in charge of organizing it. I sent out a Doodle poll to see when people would be available to meet up at the Terrace, and today at six was the clear winner. Then I saw an email from someone saying she couldn't meet the rest of my Union peeps at 5:30 tonight on the Terrace, and I thought, "I never got that email!"... but it was in my Spam folder. So just after work I walked down to the Terrace and found Travalon, and then a couple of my Union peeps saw us and joined us. Pretty soon there were three tables' worth of Union people sitting around drinking beer and eating French fries, but I had to confess that I would have to cut out for another gathering. Then one of the committee members arrived early for the other gathering, so she joined the Union gathering for a little bit but then spotted "Dave," a guy she knew, so she went to join him. When a second person from the committee arrived, she, Travalon, and I went over to join the first committee member and Dave, who was not on the committee. Eventually the leader of the committee joined us too, but we never saw anyone else, even though quite a few people said they could make it tonight. Were they wandering the Terrace, looking for us and maybe meeting each other and having their own gathering? Or did they all just flake? Who knows? The leader said we should try it again sometime, but I'm thinking a more organic time for us to meet up might be when the final report is presented at the Staff Assembly. A lot of us have never seen each other in real life, so that was what I was most looking forward to. Also seeing a member who left partway through for another job, but that person never responded to emails. When it was just the first committee member, Dave, Travalon, and I, we had a very interesting conversation about travel and music and all sorts of things. It was Open Mic Night at the Terrace, and one guy signed up for a slot just to propose to his girlfriend, which got the biggest applause of the night. Another guy told knock-knock jokes. I had never heard this one before:

            Knock Knock!

            Who's there?

            Spell!

            Spell who?

            Double-u, aitch, oh.

(Or, as the Irish would say, haitch.) It's so dumb that it's just fabulous. I must tell it to my coworker tomorrow who is the king of dad jokes.

On the way home, we stopped at the Chocolate Shoppe so Travalon could get his limited edition Scotcharoo ice cream. They even had a poster about it on the door. I was going to get some too, but then I saw key lime flavor, which is also only around in the summer. Such a hard choice, but darn, that key lime ice cream was so tasty! Then we came home, and while doing DuoLingo, I ran my hands through my hair and messed it all up. I had my reading glasses on, and Travalon said, "You look so good right now!" So here's what Travalon thinks is sexy:

I think I look like a worn-out professor who has just finished grading a bunch of term papers. "I just cannot read one more essay about how hubris is the downfall of the archetypal hero! Does nobody have any fresh ideas anymore? Were these all written by AI? And why did this student write their paper in Comic Sans Serif? That is not a way to get anyone to take you seriously!" I am, of course, only imagining what a professor thinks about, since I'm a grad school dropout myself.

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Whatever Happened to Joey Banana?

 

This morning I still felt kind of off, but not as bad as yesterday. Fortunately I slept well last night, and it was my day to work from home anyway. Travalon didn't have to work today, so he walked with me at lunch on Governor's Island. That was about as exciting as my day got.

Travalon had a more exciting day. He had lunch at the bookstore in Watertown and then went to Oconomowoc. He fished but didn't catch anything. He met an old buddy to go swimming, and then they had a very late dinner. When he texted me that he was just leaving after dinner, I had already come home from Adoration and finished leading Night Prayer. I was a little short on steps, so I put on my high vis vest and went for a walk out in the dark. Now I am sitting on the porch, and a huge orange and brown moth is flying around outside. All day while I was working, hummingbirds came to our feeder. It was a good porch day.

Since I don't have anything else to say, I'll talk about my most popular written work, "Joey Banana." That's not the whole title, but offhand I can't remember what the whole title is, and anyway that's how people refer to it. I asked a couple of children years ago what I should write a story about, and one said multiple universes, and the other said a banana peel, so that was my inspiration. Joey keeps waking up and realizing he's in a parallel universe where bananas are round, where they live under water, etc., and then at one point all the Joeys converge. I think people just like the story because all the characters (including his brother Danny Banana) have Brooklyn accents. People would insist on doing dramatic readings of "Joey Banana" at Rich's house, and Tiffy's nieces, when they were little, said we should write a sequel where Joey goes to Banana Disney. That was a group effort, and my big contribution was that in the Enchanted Forest the birds don't sing, they play the saxophone. This story is old now; one of the little kids I originally wrote it for now has a little kid of her own. Maybe I should try to get it published. Which reminds me, the guy in Minneapolis who is so enamored of that choral work based on my poem "The Mystical Rose" sent me the sheet music he had prepared, and it looks great. Still, neither work will be the first thing of mine that was published, because I did have that article published in Guidepost magazine about our refrigerator. I even got paid! So no matter what happens with "Joey Banana" or "The Mystical Rose," I am a published author.

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Cathopalian Mass and the Scattering

 

Yesterday Travalon and I had big dreams of going to Irish Fest before the Cathopalian Mass at St. Josephat's, but while I had a free ticket, he could only have gotten in free with some canned goods if we had arrived before eleven, and ain't no way that was happening. I had a pounding headache and felt a bit nauseated, but we walked on Governor's Island, and that helped. By the time we went to Cecil Markovitch's place. I felt fine. There were too many people to fit in one car, so Travalon drove, and the Dairyman's Daughter came in our car. We got there before the other car, so we went to the gift shop, and I (shocker!) bought a rosary bracelet. Then we went up to the church, which is so beautiful.

The closing hymn was so gorgeous.

I thought these Masses were supposed to be quarterly, but we went to one late in January and then hadn't heard anything since. I asked Cecil if he had heard anything, but he hadn't either. (We both signed up for their email list.) Then finally they emailed about this Mass on Sunday. It was much better attended than the one in January. Travalon loves it because it's midafternoon, so we can have a relaxed morning.

After that the whole gang, plus some seminarian Cecil knows, went to Three Brothers Serbian Restaurant, where Tiffy met us. She and I had the spinach and cheese borek, which you can get three meals out of. Travalon had the chicken paprikash, which he said was almost as good as his Hungarian grandmother's recipe. When we got done with dinner, there was just time for Travalon and me to head over to Irish Fest to catch the Scattering, the big concert at the end with all the musicians together on stage.

People were leaving Irish Fest when we arrived, so we found an excellent free parking spot. I had my free ticket to get in, but at that hour they just let you in. I mentioned that my Irish teacher Famie would probably be there... and then she was four rows ahead of us! There were some empty seats right behind her, so we moved up to join her, one of her beginner students, and another girl who has been on the online conversation circle. The giant session played, and dancers danced, and there were songs for us to sing along to. It lasted about an hour and was so much fun. As we were leaving, we ran into an old coworker of mine from the Press who has a very Irish name and has always been into Irish everything. She was saying she no longer goes to the Summer School because in years past they had culture and history classes, but now everything is language or music, and she doesn't do music. She did mention the singing classes, and I said, "They still do those." I am thinking I should take one next year.

I didn't sleep at all well last night, and this morning as I pondered going into the office, I threw up twice, so I gave up and worked from home. It was not an exciting day for me, but Travalon didn't have to work, and he went fishing at Tenney Park and caught six fish. (He didn't keep any of them.) Here are four of them.

Probably because it was overcast all day and rained off and on. I never felt that much better and ended up skipping the big jam session at the music club. Oddly, I did have a very productive day at work. Here's hoping tomorrow I feel a little better.

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Mendota Monsoon Cruise

 

Today Travalon and I took Jilly Moose on a lunch cruise for her landmark birthday, which isn't until next month, but the cruises will end this month. My phone said there was a thunderstorm forecast for right during the cruise, and indeed, when we all gathered to get on the boat, there was thunder and a bit of lightning to the north. Someone said it would pass by us, but the horn at the Union that warns boats to get off the water sounded. Then Captain Rob arrived and said we should all get on the boat immediately because it was about to rain, but on the boat we wouldn't be rained on. Usually Travalon and I sit on the bow, but this time we sat inside the boat because of the lightning. One of the crew members took a photo of the three of us.

A couple sat across from us, and the woman was very friendly, so we struck up a conversation. When the storm seemed to have passed, all five of us went out and sat on the bow, and that was wonderful. Here are a couple of photos, of a mysterious contraption on the water and the Capitol building.

This was supposed to be a selfie with the Capitol, but where's the Capitol?

It was wonderful out there most of the time we were eating lunch, but suddenly a huge wind blew up, so I grabbed my lunch and ran back into the boat, advising the others to follow me. I didn't see this, but Travalon did - right after that, Jilly Moose's food got blown into the water. The others did come into the boat, and then the rain and the wind really picked up. I could tell Captain Rob wasn't 100% sure we'd be okay, which was the thing that frightened me most, and afterwards he did admit it was the craziest weather he'd had to run the cruise in. We did make it into port safely, and he said we could stay on the boat until the storm passed, so we chatted, and I was overjoyed to hear that (as I'd long hoped) he does plan to buy the two cruise boats and run one on Lake Wisconsin while keeping the other one here on Mendota. I sure hope this plan comes to fruition!

When the rain had subsided enough to get off the boat, Travalon, Jilly Moose, and I went to State Line Distillery for a drink. It was lovely out then, overcast and cool, so we sat outside enjoying alcoholic slushies or cocktails and admiring the surprising number of babies that were there with their Millennial parents. There was also an adorable dog named Milo who was very happy to make our acquaintance. Here is a photo of the design on the top of Jilly Moose's cocktail.

We were going to walk to Africa Fest from there, but it began to rain, so we went back to the car and got as far as the Willy Street Co-op, where we bought a few necessities and waited out the rain. Then we went to Leopold's for a coffee; I had my usual decaf iced pandan latte, since Travalon sometimes brings me one after work, and if I had caffeine at that hour, I'd never get to sleep. Jilly Moose was going to a book study, so we took her back to her car near the distillery and found a parking spot closer to Africa Fest. The rain seemed to be done by then, but it was very muddy in the park when we went to our favorite West African food vendor for baobab shakes and jollof rice. We found a spot to sit and eat our dinner while watching all the cute kids in traditional outfits. There was supposed to be a band starting soon, but they seemed to be hours behind in the schedule, probably because of the rain. There was a masquerade with crazy costumes, and one of our faculty members (from the Folklore section) was following them around, taking photos. I took a couple myself.

Sorry that these aren't better - they were moving around so much that it was hard to get a good photo. We also checked out the vendors, and I bought earrings and a hat - just what I need.

It's not like I don't already have tons of earrings and hats already. Notice that I am wearing an Africa Fest shirt, and I didn't cave and buy another one this year. Earlier this week I did buy an Irish Fest Summer School shirt - I will probably wear it tomorrow and will try to post a photo soon. Because another thing I don't need is any more T-shirts.

Thanks to Travalon for help coming up with the title of this blog post.

Famous Hat

One Last Fiddling Class

 

This morning I was going to work in the apartment for four hours, but we had to be out at eleven, and there was no way I'd be ready to work before seven. Instead, I worked from eight to ten and said I'd do the other two hours this afternoon. Famie went to her first dance class, and when I was done with work (mostly checking emails), I packed everything up and left. I was lugging my work laptop, my violin, and my purse, and of course this was the day I took a wrong turn after going to the Celtic Cultural Center for days, so I went a tiny bit out of my way before realizing my mistake. I still got to the Center in time to register for one last fiddling class. It was actually open to any instrument, to learn the music of the Sliabh Luachra area of Ireland. The teacher played the accordion, and we had three fiddles, one concertina, and one pipe player in the class. We learned three tunes, and some of the women (we were all women, except for the teacher, who was a rather attractive man) made sure to let everyone know what experts they were in Irish tunes, but I fumbled along trying to learn the new tunes, and it felt like the teacher was most impressed with me, because he knew I was actually learning them on the spot.

Famie and I grabbed a quick lunch and then had an easy drive home, chatting amiably, but we were surprised by the amount of traffic midday, even in the middle of nowhere. I logged back on and did two more hours of work, then when Travalon came home, we planned to go to Mass at the church two minutes away, since it seemed to be the only one having a late enough Mass for the Assumption to accommodate us working stiffs. However, when we got there, only a couple of other people were there, and we were all confused until one guy called and found out the Mass was at the church in a tiny town twenty minutes away, because this is a merged parish and we all misunderstood the code for which physical church the Mass would be at. Who knew SM meant St. Michael's, not St. Mary's? By then Mass would have been half over if we'd gone to the other church, and it would be half over by the time we got to the Spanish Mass across town. We looked frantically for other Masses, but the A-frame church we went to last weekend makes you log in to see their bulletins, and we don't have a login. I am really getting fed up with the Catholic Church. How can they demand we attend Mass and then make it impossible to get to if you work full-time? 

Here are some photos from this weekend. First is the rainbow we saw Tuesday night.

Here is the church that looks like a castle where the music lessons were held.

And the beautiful light patterns made by the morning sun shining through the stained glass.

The river was very high, and we could see flood damage.

Here is the board after we played Scrabble in Irish.

And this is a rainbow that was at Irish Fest last night.

I did do DuoLingo while at summer school, because how better to learn Irish than to do Spanish exercises? and I got this comment.

I don't know why Duo is wearing makeup, since he's always presented as male. I also got the monthly badge.

Now I'm back to the cold, harsh reality of not having a session to go to every day. How ever will I survive?

Famous Hat