a walk in my neighborhood

Condition your body to get up every day and go for a walk.

Before I walked on the Camino I learned to make walking my state of being, something I integrated into my life, not an exercise or a chore that had to be done.

We have to drive when we go hiking, I don’t have to use my car for my daily walk.

Even though I live in a car crazy Los Angeles, it’s very easy for me to take a walk that leaves me feeling as though I’ve been on a meditation retreat by simply stepping out my front door, turning left and walking for about four miles.

DSCN3154

Can you do that in your city?

DSCN2261

Mr F and MontyCarlo

Put on your walking shoes and come join me…

DSCN2333

roses and palm trees

Bougainvilleas bloom year-round…

DSCN2342

DSCN2341 DSCN2282

The trees are still full of citrus fruit – lemons, oranges, grapefruit, mandarins.  Yesterday I picked grapefruits off the tree in my friend Helen’s garden that are enormous, each one the size of a melon.

DSCN2325

lemons

 walk my neighborhood
blossoms bulbs citrus greet me
spring kisses my heart

DSCN4208

A few of my favorite gardens…

and the trees

As this is Hollywood, there are always interesting cars like this one parked outside the houses

This post was inspired by WordPress Photo Challenge this week: my neighborhood

Posted in Photography, The Natural World, Wondering | Tagged , , | 94 Comments

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.”

FrizzText’s photo challenge this week is “j”.

This post is a brief description of my parents  journeys from Jerusalem, and Jamshedpur to a city in Africa beginning with “j“…

My family has emigrated every generation since my grandfather left Odessa in 1885 at the age of fifteen. He was born in a cold country, my mother in a hot one, I was born in a hot country, my children in one with snow and ice…

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.
– Lao-tzu, the Chinese philosopher who wrote the Tao Te Ching

DSCN6898

bags packed for the journey.

 *

In 1938 my mother traveled with her mother and sister from Jamshedpur, in India to join my aunt’s fiancée in Africa. As first class passengers on the ship they ate at the Captain’s table, the two sisters danced with the Captain, the first mate, and all the young men on the ship, and they all enjoyed shore excursion to places like Colombo and Zanzibar.

My mother with her mother and sister 1937

My mother with her mother and sister shortly before leaving India

My father wasn’t able to make a living as a fitter and turner in Jerusalem, and as the oldest son he felt pressured to go off somewhere to seek his fortune.

My father’s journey in his own words:

I wasn’t able to emigrate to the United States because the quota of  immigrants from Israel was full and I would’ve had to wait another two or three years before they opened it up again.

I was nineteen, I was impatient to start my new life, I didn’t want to wait two more years. 

I saved up an extra pound by scrubbing floors for a ‘piasta’ [two cents] so I could buy myself a double-breasted suit. I have a picture of me lying on the floor leaning on my elbow, that’s the suit I came out with.

I went to Africa on a cattle ship in 1929. It cost me eighteen pounds.  I also had to give another eighteen pounds security if I wasn’t allowed to land and they had to send me back. I borrowed that money from my sister Lilly. I paid her back right away. The immigration was strict, they examined us one by one on the boat on the top deck.

We didn’t get a cabin on the ship, we had to find our own place to sleep on the deck. There were about six of us poor young men traveling like that, sitting on the floor without beds, just a waterproof cover in case it rained… They gave us food that I couldn’t eat, disgusting big chunks of fatty meat. We had to go to the toilet, out there on the deck… excuse me…  I got so constipated I thought I’d pass away.”

My father arrived unable to speak English with “two shillings and-six-pence” (about twenty-six cents) in his pocket, but ten years later when he met my mother he was one of the most eligible bachelors in town, one of the few men who owned his own car.

My parents were married three months after they met.

My parents 1940

My parents 1941

In the 1980’s they journeyed again this time to join three of their children who coincidentally were living in the same cold northern country.

DSCN6899

Posted in Families don't you love them, Not America, Wondering | Tagged , , , | 38 Comments

lost in the details…

This post is part of “WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge” Lost in the details 

According to my car thermometer it was 87 degrees F at 2:30pm today.

DSCN8153

On warm spring days like today I could almost do a Baryshnikov-type ballet leap across front lawns straight into the daffodils…

Daffodils on a neighbor's front lawn

DSCN8324

Iris

Iris

This isn’t snow on the sidewalk

Not snow - blossoms

but blossoms which come from a tree like this

Blossoms

Blossoms

.

It seems as if every garden in my neighborhood has a Magnolia bush.

Magnolia

Magnolia

Magolia Magnolia

.

Magnolia blossom are *perfect*.

.

purple and pink  …

DSCN8220

my patio…

I love flowers with intoxicating scent like Gardenias. I photographed this one on my patio this afternoon.

Posted in Photography, The Natural World, Tutto va bene, Wondering | Tagged , , | 70 Comments

Tagged “i” is for my parents …

a-z3

When I saw that this week Frizztext’s A-Z Photo Challenge is “i“, I just had to join in because:

“i” = India my Mother’s birth place

 Sikh pilgrim at the Harmandir Sahib (Golden Temple) in Amritsar, India. The man has just had a ritual bath.

Sikh pilgrim at the Golden Temple in Amritsar, India.   [This photo by Paul Rudd in the Public Domain won Wikimedia Commons First place Picture of the Year 2009]

“i” = Israel my Father’s birth place

Dome of the Rock

Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. Photo by Yaakov Shoham [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

I’m really sad that I still haven’t been to India, and I’ve only been to Israel once when I was seventeen,  and although I don’t have my own pictures to share with you, I have the stories.

I’ve threatened to write their stories for half a century (good grief!), perhaps this will nudge me to start.

About a year before my father died I interviewed him at my kitchen table.

“Where were you born?” I said

“That’s not important. I was born in bed,” was his answer. 

[oh man, I’ve already got tears running down my cheeks]

“i” also = Italy our favorite European country, and “i” = Italian ice cream

Gelato

Gelato store in a Tuscan hill town

When in Rome do as the Romans do 😀  When we’re in Italy of course we eat ice cream every day. 😆

It was a happy day when we discover the Italian gelati chain GROM, in Turin.

GROM’s  mission is to make gelato the slow, old-fashioned way, with top quality, mainly Italian, seasonal ingredients, and no artificial colorings and preservatives.

DSCN2725

 As you know if you’ve been following my blog for a while, GROM followed us home to Southern California. Their Malibu store opened two years ago.

DSCN8148

GROM in Malibu

In Italy I learned to combine limone, a fruit sherbert, with something made with milk like Nocciola (Hazelnut), or coffee…

Earlier this month on our way home from walking on the beach in Malibu we stopped at GROM. I had mandarin orange sherbert, with mint chocolate.     OMG  😛

If I’m at an American ice cream store, I’ll usually order vanilla, because I think it has the least additives and colorings.

Do you have an “i” story to share with us? What is your favorite ice cream?

DSCN2907

One day last summer I had apricot and chocolate.

Posted in Families don't you love them, Not America, Photography, Tutto va bene, Wondering | Tagged , , | 56 Comments

on a rainy day in Los Angeles

It was raining when I went to work yesterday, so I wore my black velour hat with the flower on the side.

“You look lovely,” said my Mr F when he kissed me goodbye,”You’re going to get a lot of complements today.”

😀

Of course everyone stared when a woman wearing a Davy Crockett hat and a full length fur coat walked into the main store. Although it was raining, it wasn’t cold, or snowing – I think the temperature was in the 50’s F.  I felt hot just looking at her and tried to guess where she came from.
“Nice hat!” I said when she came up to my cash register.
“Thank you. They’re very popular in Moscow,” she said.

File:Coonskin cap.JPG

It’s easy to identify Canadians because they wear sandals and shorts on a rainy day in the winter, and they ask for the “Washroom“…

“Where’s the washroom?” a middle-aged woman in a long skirt and sandals asked me.
“Go straight to the white sculpture: woman to the right, men to the left.”
“Is that a political statement?” she said.

😀

I cannot imagine why anyone would walk around wearing one of these tee-shirts:

SARCASM
Just one more
Service I offer

* * * * *

I don’t care

* * * * *

How many comments did I get re my hat? One, from Wazir, a Security Guard …

“When you wear that hat you look like one of the volunteers,” he said as he walked past my cash register.

I laughed so much I got a stomach ache. I think that’s one of the funniest comments I’ve heard at my cash register.

https://i0.wp.com/upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/51/Jacquette_L%C3%B6wenhielm_1824.jpg/512px-Jacquette_L%C3%B6wenhielm_1824.jpg

Jacquette Löwenhielm 1824. Public Domain

 My days are never dull in the museum.

Do you wear hats on rainy days? Are Davy Crockett hats popular where you live, or just in Russia? Have you ever received a hilarious “complement”?

 

 

Posted in Museum Musings, Tutto va bene | Tagged , , , | 41 Comments

the Kiss …

WordPress Photo Challenge this week is Kiss.

I photographed this mural in downtown Los Angeles – near Mac Arthur park.

DSCN7909

The last Kiss

President Obama keep your promise and bring our young men and women home!

For other WP posts on this week’s theme, click here

Posted in America, Photography, Wondering | Tagged , , | 68 Comments

home = snowshoes or walk on the beach?

DSCN8134

Malibu

Last Saturday night Monty Carlo woke us up at 4 a.m when he heard someone banging on our neighbor’s door.

I heard a man say, “It’s Jason, I’m looking for my wife. Where’s Stephanie?”

I didn’t hear the answer.

Mr F and another neighbor went outside to investigate.  Jason had a  bodybuilder’s physique, and though it was cold he was dressed in red jeans, and a white tank top. In answer to Mr F’s, “Is everything all right?” he said “Everything’s f— fine!” and drove off in a white Lexus SUV.

Who is Jason? I don’t know.

Where is Stephanie? I can’t say.

The house has been locked up and dark since then …

There’s always plenty of drama when you live in Hollywood.

Malibu

Malibu

I couldn’t get back to sleep.

While I tossed and turned on my sleepless pillow I remembered that this week’s WordPress Photo challenge is “Home“…

Mr F and Monty

Mr F and MontyCarlo

Inspired by my blogging buddy Barbara Rogers – of By the Sea ‘s – beautiful photos in the post  Blizzard Charlotte ~ 2.8.13 where she took us for a walk in her Connecticut neighborhood buried under 21 inches of snow in last weekend’s blizzard,  I invite you to join me on my walk in Malibu on Saturday February 9, 2013…

Debbie and the dogs at the top of the cliff

Debbie and the dogs at the top of the cliff

On Saturday morning Mr F, our friend Debbie and I had brunch on the patio of a small hotel overlooking the ocean in Malibu, and after our meal – a tasteless spinach, mushroom and sausage omelet with canned mushrooms for goodness sake so you don’t need to feel jealous – we took the dogs for a delicious long walk on the private beach next to the fancy-shmancy houses in Malibu Colony. (Though it’s a gated community they can’t keep us off their beach. 😀 )

*

As it was a very low tide we saw anemones, star fish, mussels and bright-colored seaweed in the tide pools.

“The mouth, and the anus of the sea anemone is in the middle of the oral disk surrounded by tentacles which are both a defense and a way to capture prey.”

*

Over the years, when anyone asked me, “Where’s your home?” I’d shrug and say I didn’t know, because I hadn’t felt a strong enough connection to any particular place to honor it by calling it my home.

DSCN8150

Its early spring here – the trees are full of blossoms…

During that sleepless night while I savored the memory of our lovely day at the beach,  I felt grateful that we lived in a such a warm, beautiful part of the world close to the ocean with miles of beautiful beaches and hundreds of hiking trails  (all my happy places),  and it slowly dawned on me that I’d begun to think of this crazy city as *h*o*m*e*.

DSCN8145

we parked near this tree

We never go to Malibu without stopping at GROM for gelato. We discovered the delicious gelato when we were in Italy three years ago.

DSCN8148

gelato at GROM

  • What is your happy place?
  • Is your home near your happy place?
  • Are there hiking trails close to your city?

For other WP posts on this week’s theme, click here

Posted in Photography, The Natural World, Tutto va bene, Wondering | Tagged , , , | 59 Comments

Unique eh?

 

This week’s Photo Challenge is Unique

1. A unique plant

The neighbor who gave me the night-blooming cereus, gave me another plant with similar stick like stems, and last winter it produced three delicate, large, pink flowers that lasted for several weeks. This winter it gave me one flower. I think I gave it too much fertilizer after it bloomed.

I don’t know what it is. Do you?

flower pot on my patio

 several different succulents in the pot on my patio

 

2. A unique person:
I met twelve-year old Faith Butterfield at my cash register a couple of years ago when she and her younger sister visited the museum with their “tutor” David Mehnert.

David told me Faith was an “autistic artist savant“.

“A what?” I said.

“A savant is someone with impaired social functions, in Faith’s case she doesn’t communicate verbally, but she’s extraordinarily skilled in art,” he said.

He had my attention.

“I have to show you how talented she it. Hey Faith you’ve got five minutes to do a drawing of Rosie,” he told her.

Faith took out her pencils, and did a portrait of me at my cash register.  When David made her go back to add some color, she included my purple glasses. I think it’s brilliant.

Faith did my portrait

Faith drew my portrait in five minutes

Thank you Faith. I apologize that your story got trapped in my files.

.

3. A unique food

Have you eaten Fiddleheads, the unfurled fronds of a young fern?

The tiny green spirals, which are the premium wild forage vegetable of spring, emerge around the first week of May in the lowland forests from the Great Lakes to the Maritimes of Canada.

I ate them in Canada a few years ago. They have a mild taste similar to asparagus, and are easy to cook.

Fiddleheads

We ate these Fiddleheads for our dinner

4. A unique place.

Happy Birthday wishes to Grand Central Terminal aka Grand Central Station in New York City, which is one hundred years old today.

The station used by over 150,000 commuters every day, is one of the busiest in the world.

Grand

Grand Central Station (photo credit FreeFoto.com)

I look forward to hearing your thoughts. Do you agree with me that fiddleheads are delicious? Can you identify my plant with the beautiful pink flowers? Have you been to Grand Central Station? What do you think of my portrait?

Posted in Museum Musings, Photography, Tutto va bene, Wondering | Tagged , , , | 89 Comments

I lived with a barbed-wire fence in my mouth

That day so many years ago when my dentist requested a meeting with my mother I already knew it wasn’t going to be good news, because he usually ended our visits repeating the same old story about brushing our teeth properly.

Doctor Lurie explained to my mother that if we didn’t correct the angle of my teeth I would end up with serious gum recession on the three front bottom teeth simply because food was pushed down against my gums every time I bit into something.

“How does one change the angle of the teeth?”  my mother asked him.

“Rosanne will have to go to an orthodontist and get fitted with braces.”  said Dr Lurie.

Something was wrong with my hearing, I thought I heard “braces”.

“You’re joking, right?” I said, “I went to an orthodontist when I was a kid. I did all that already!” I remembered the pain and the yuck factor when food got stuck in the wires.

“Did you wear braces then?” he asked.

“No, thank god! I wore a plate thingie on my top palate…”

“Well now you must wear braces and get it done properly,” he said smiling behind his big round glasses.

“But Doctor Lurie I’m nineteen years old, I’m at University, I’m too old to wear braces,”  I said.

He laughed.

I cried.

My Mother never begrudged doing whatever was necessary for her children,  I became the only student at my university who wore braces. They were big, and ugly, it was difficult to eat with a barbed wire fence stored in my mouth,  and it effectively stopped any attempts at smooching.

photo credit: Free Photo

photo credit: Free Photo

My Mr F stuck with me in spite of the difficulties 🙂

I had braces on my wedding day, though my orthodontist gave me a wedding gift: he took them off the top two teeth in the front “for the photos“.

There was one particular incident that Mr F and I have never forgotten.  Our vacations were usually spent camping in the bush, far from civilization, our idea of a perfect evening was sitting in front of the campfire looking at the night sky, listening to the sounds of the African veld, and Mr F’s guitar.

On one of those trips in the middle of nowhere the unthinkable thing happened: the wire going across my braces snapped, leaving exposed bits of wire that sliced into my cheeks.  Unable to cut it off, we tried covering the sharp points with wads of chewing gum, with paper stuck to wads of chewing gum, with leaves, with twigs… Nothing worked.

We drove about a hundred miles to the nearest big city where we were grateful to find a public phone that wasn’t out-of-order (this was the olden days before cell phones) and through a friend of a relative got a referral to a dentist (there wasn’t an orthodontist in the town) who was able to take the wire off.

Why am I telling you about the braces I wore so many years ago?

I had dental surgery on Monday because the gums on my three front bottom teeth have receded so much there’s already been bone loss.

When I asked the periodontist if he could explain the severe gum recession, he answered with a question, “Did you wear braces?”

😥

I sat awake in the periodontist‘s chair for over two hours, my mouth numb my tongue “fat” (I lost count of how many injections he gave me), and watched while he sliced a piece of skin off my top palate, and grafted it onto the gums of my three bottom teeth. He’s happy with his handiwork, and praised me for being an excellent patient “who sat calmly through the procedure” [which I think must have earned me several Girl Guide meditation badges!]. Before he can claim the surgery a total success though, we have to see whether there are blood vessels in the area of the grafted skin.

Today I’m on strong painkillers,  feel nauseous from the after effects of all that “stuff in my system”,  and am already bored with my luke-warm liquid diet,  but more than anything else I miss my Mother. I needed to cry on her shoulder after I heard what a waste of bloody time and money it was to get those braces.

DSCN2092

“Hi Mom!”

I end with more love – the theme of this week’s WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge is Love.

The photo below of our dog Jelly lying in the warm spot under our stove with Honey Bun our cat, was taken about forty years ago, and has sat on our fridge for almost as long.  (Because I don’t have the negative I had to copy the photo with my camera…)

Jelly and Honeybun

Jelly and Honey Bun

Have you ever had orthodontic treatment, or gum surgery?

 

* * * * *

PostScript on January 31:

My blogging buddy Tara – who blogs in China at The Good Villager – has awarded me a special Girl Guide badge.  I’m so proud 😀

art work by The Good Villager

art work by The Good Villager

Posted in Families don't you love them, Photography, Tutto va bene, Wondering | Tagged , , , , , | 56 Comments

Līgo Weekly 220w Challenge – España

I was going to show you the early signs of spring in my neighborhood in this post – there are blossoms on the flowering cherry trees – but when I saw that this week’s theme at Līgo Weekly 220w challenge was Spain,  I had to join in. I hope you’re not mad at me for not showing the flowers – heck you’ve seen blossoms on trees – but I know you’ve also seen photos of Spain, so my challenge is to see whether I can keep you interested right to the end …

Madrid.  

If you go to that beautiful city take your walking shoes.

DSCN4851

Museums

I was thrilled to see Las Meninas, Diego Velázquez painted in 1656, and the many Goyas in the The Prado Museum, but the high moment for me was Picasso’s Guernica in the Museo Reina Sofia.  I hadn’t understood the painting until I stood in front of it, and once there I couldn’t step away.

PicassoGuernica

Flamenco.

I love the Spanish guitar and the dancing with the music made my heart sing. I went twice.

Flamenco dancer

This woman could dance!

this guy could dance!

as could this guy!

My pilgrimage led me through Galicia in the north-west of Spain,  a lush and  green area like Ireland.

"How green was my valley."

“How green was my valley.”

field of kale

field of kale

Many of the farms and villages I walked past looked as though I’d stepped into the Middle Ages.

an old farm

A farm

a village

A village

Spain is a Roman Catholic country. Every village has its church, some of them as small as a garden shed…

DSCN5242

along the Camino

A Church at the top of the hill

a church

built entirely of rocks

interior of a church

interior of a church

Interior of a church

All the little villages we walked through in Galicia were like ghost towns, we didn’t see any children playing in the streets, and the only sign of life besides the cows walking along the roads, or an old man or woman crossing the street, were the pilgrims at the bars.

Why?

old woman crossing the road

Old woman crossing the road

Galicia is one of the least developed areas in Spain with not many employment opportunities, so most of the men (and I guess the young families) have had to move away, leaving the women to drive the tractors, herd the oxen, tend the bars.  According to this article, many Galicians look for work in Switzerland.

women herding cows

A woman herding cows

Do the pilgrims on the Camino help keep the Galician economy alive?

DSCN5369

 Dogs guarded every farm, and many of the houses in the villages.

DSCN6052

This cute dog was free to roam

as was this dogDSCN5457

DSCN5874

he was chained

When you travel I hope you eat the local food. In Spain I recommend you try pulpo (octopus) and langoustines (large prawn)

Langustines

Langoustines

How do you get fresh bread in a small village?  Its delivered. The driver honked his horn, and handed over an unwrapped loaf.

the baker honked his horn and delivered the loaf of bread

The bread delivery

Some pictures don’t need words

potable water

potable water

This water is not for drinking

This water is not for drinking

DSCN5481

a shrine

DSCN6150

DSCN5368

DSCN5427

DSCN6157

DSCN6176

Do I need to translate this?

Do I need to translate this?

I couldn’t manage to keep this post to 220 words – oops – there was too much information to share.

I hope you stayed to the end…

 * * * *  *

Post Script February 7, 2013:   I received a ‘special mention’ for my post …

ligo_circle_of_appreciation2

Click here to see the other entries in this challenge.

Posted in Not America, Photography, Wandering | Tagged , , , , | 81 Comments