"Journaller Joan, Ever Courageous", "Time Remembered", "Bombing Yugoslavia"
"Journaller Joan, Ever Courageous", "Time Remembered", "Bombing Yugoslavia"
But I will take time to praise the memorable Lunch I've had at Thunder Canyon Brewery: bread with honey butter, "Mediterranean beef pasta" - (beef strips, pasta bows, artichokes, olives, feta cheese, all with a special sauce that had beer cooked in it), "Shandy" - (half pink lemonade with a amber beer), and, of course, a glass of ice water with lemon slice.
After a busy week of artwork and sewing, and an activity filled weekend, I was deeply feeling the need for Laura and I to have some special time together alone. I took the morning off, and we went into the 'big city'. Laura needed to replenish some of her graphics markers, so we went to an art store. These markers come in a huge panorama of colors. My 'Prismacolor' colored pencils in 'Apple Green' and 'Orange' were getting low, so I got some replacements for when I need them. I usually work with a limited palette, achieving my color varieties by layering. I go through more 'apple green' and 'orange' than any other color.
Laura suggested going to Fry's Electronics, but I wasn't in the market for music. I have two orders soon to arrive via mail, anyhow. I had Quentin Crisp's New York Diaries treed, so we went to Barnes and Nobles. They didn't have it on stock, so we special ordered it, along with Queer Science, a book Laura wanted.
I suggested the restaurant for lunch. I'd recently read Macaroni Grill's menu on the web. It sounded quite intriguing. I'd seen this restaurant off of Ray Road before, but its name had made me think of macaroni and cheese. I was surprised to learn it serves Italian food.
I'm wonderfully content with their gourmet food. I had fresh baked bread with rosemary seasoning dipped into olive oil, a few bites of salad with balsamic vinegar, "Scaloppine di Pollo"- chicken breast, mushroom, artichoke, capers and smoked prosciutto in lemon butter with pasta , and two glasses iced tea with lemon.
Everything was so tasty. The iced tea was especially good. It was fresh brewed, not too strong or too weak, so clear and it cleaned my palette perfectly. I've never been in a restaurant that made it so well since sometime in the early eighties when Gramma, Aunt June and I used to eat at the restaurant in "Marshall Field's" department store. I'd only eaten half of the large portion, when I realized my tummy was blissed out. So Laura and I pooled our remainder and Julia can heat it up tonight.
They had crayons, in red, blue and green, provided for their customers to entertain themselves with while waiting for their food. Laura, alias 'Seladore' and I left our mark, of course. I drew a woman, fork to her mouth, with the words, I love to eat! I left my crisscrossed spoon and fork trademark, and the words such "Weighty Matters" at the bottom of the doodle. Above it, I wrote "Such 'great art', doncha' know? Laura and I had fun fantasizing that the person who cleans up will have seen our websites, and know who we are.
After all, they just might have! You never know! The other day I was visiting the Journals section of the Mining Co. to see if they had any new links. Well, I should say they have! Right in their week of March 1st, I found WEIGHTY MATTERS listed and these descriptive words "Journaler Joan, ever courageous, posts everything she eats "for all the world to see."
I was bowled over!
Note from the future (June of 2000, to be exact): I did at one time have listed every item I ate in this journal. Since then, i've removed all but the most memorable of meals, partially to save K, and partially because it no longer seems relevant. You aren't missing anything!
I got the pictures and story of our trip to the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum up early this morning!
Later, the three of us went to the fitness center. Laura and I put in over 30 minutes, while poor Julia went straight to the jacuzzi. She hurt her back last week, and it seems to have only gotten worse. She's taking the rest of the week off from work. Hopefully she can get an earlier appointment with her Doctor than this coming Friday. It seems to hurt deep down in, like possibly in the spine itself. We're all worried about her.
Many journallers include a link to the entries they did one year ago. It inspired me to have a look at what was going on in my life one year ago. Some heavy things were going on then. My gramma died March 24, 1998. I'm so glad I at least got to talk to her one last time before she died and tell her I love her. It's strange, for as the years go by, I find myself remembering more of the good times than the bad times. I cherish the picture of Aunt June and Gramma laughing. It wasn't all disapproval and tension. We did share many happy times. I embrace those memories lovingly.
 For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered is grief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
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"Time remembered is grief forgotten . . . ", I'm so grateful for 'time remembered'.
I cannot hate the people from who it is that I come. Would righteous anger over hurts, unjust as they may be, serve better my cause? Some may think so. But I am of those people. To hate them, from whom is my genetic lineage, would be to hate myself. I wish that my fundamentalist family would come to see what is wrong in the fear that they have been taught. I wish that they could embrace all of me. But perhaps the fears have been driven into them too deeply. I stand at the precipice of this sad divide, and think only, "I love them still".
I look to the tiny figures on the other side, and wonder, "What do they think of me?" Sad creature, lost to the devil's way, yet do they remember me when I was young, longingly? For the divide is vastly wide, and who can build a bridge?
Yesterday I spoke of one year anniversary events. Today I speak of a two year anniversary event. It was two years ago that thirty nine people ate poisoned pudding, hoping to join up with a spaceship waiting for them behind Hale-Bopp comet . . . all because some astronomer had seen a strange blur and believed it to be a UFO. Since they were a little insane, they actually regarded their actions as LIFE-SAVING , for those of us remaining on earth would be "recycled and spaded" over.
Don't the High Spirit Warden's eyes in Persons of the Soul have a similar wild look? Oh, yeah, and I wonder what perverse things he does with that rabbit?
I don't read all the news stories on Starnet, only checking out the titles that intrigue. So I wasn't paying attention to this war on Yugoslavia. I read about it first in John Bailey's journal. "As I sat down to write this the bombs started to fall in Yugoslavia. . ."he said yesterday. Still the world wide significance didn't occur to me. I dismissed it as more of the usual skirmishes "over there". When I stumbled barely awake out into the living room this morning, Laura informed me, "We're bombing Yugoslavia!" "WE? Us??" This woke me up!
So why do the Albanians want independance? As near as I can tell, this borders on a religious war. Serbs believe Kosovo to be the cradle of their history and culture, with numerous Orthodox monasteries. Ethnic Albanians say they are descendants of the ancient Illyrians who were Kosovo's first inhabitants. They each want the whole thing, and neither wants to share! The Serbs say they are battling terrorists who are trying to rob them of ancestral lands. Most Kosovo Albanians want Kosovo, which is ninety percent ethnic Albanian, to become an independent state.
It's a mess, and I wonder, have we got any business being over there? But the U.S. led Nato ( North Atlantic Treaty Organization) thinks so. It is feared that fighting in the Kosovo province might spill over into the surrounding countries of Albania, Macedonia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Greece, Bulgaria and even Turkey, drawing them into a much wider conflict. Only one country, Russia, has objected to NATO's plans. Perhaps this is because Russians and Serbs are both Slavic peoples. Russia, for the moment however, has decided not to use force to counter NATO attacks against Yugoslavia.
President Clinton tells us, `firmness now or catastrophe later.' Therefore NATO is using the biggest display of warfare since World War II. However Clinton promises no use of ground troops. Yet some think air strikes alone will not be effective. This could still be an awful catastrophe.
(various sources, Starnet, Associated Press, BBC...)
Today, I've got a busy day of sewing ahead of me. I'll be tackling the FIFTH bulletproof vest case! At least they get easier the more I do, because the conceptualization part has been taken care of. Just the process remains, which is slow enough.
Julia seems to be on the mend. She isn't ouching out loud with pain as much. Laura is concerned too much bed rest won't be good for her. So she will go with Laura to the Cost Co this morning.
It seems I'm not the only one to regard the Kosovo mess with wariness. Some are even less optimistic. Here's a snippet from John Scalzi's Daily Whatever of March 25th.
"Perhaps what we ought to do is just run a high fence that runs from Macedonia to the Hungarian border, cap it with a cement dome, and let those folks just go after each other like they want to. A decade later, remove the dome and the fence, hose down all the dried blood, and there you are: Thousands of square miles of fertile, unpopulated land. Mind the bones. "
''Me And My Camera''
March 27, 1999
Busy bees at the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum
I had a dream filled night. In one scene, I was at my grandmothers old house, with camera in hand, taking pictures of flowers. I can't remember if Gramma was there, or Laura. Her house was the way it always was, full of colorful flowers. I recall framing yellow flowers in the viewfinder.
That camera and I got around, for in the next scene, Laura and I were at an art show. Julia must have stayed home to rest in these dreams. Everyone had cameras and was snapping everything in sight.
Fast forward to a theater with a large stage. A heavy older lady was singing, with her broad arms stretched wide. "Get a close-up of her," Laura urged, "Get her expression!"
Maybe the dream is a reminder to keep extra close watch on my things! In real life, a thief would not likely suddenly get a conscience.
I have a new entry up in ATTWT! Thinking about 'inner parent' consoling 'inner child' got me to thinking about babies . . . I also did an illustration for it. That's TWO illustrations in one day! I'll give myself a gold star!
