Dear Mom and family,
Sunday morning I woke up not at home, but in the Phoenix motel where I had stayed the night, along with my Laure's friend Vic, in order to avoid the long drive home in the evening. I hadn't set the alarm, because my friend Helen had asked us to come to breakfast quite late. She and one of the other drummers had gone on to a nightclub/restaurant after the event we had attended.
We both woke around 8:00 AM, which meant we had slept more than eight hours, as we'd gone to bed around ten.
We had thought we'd go to a nearby Starbuck's and hang out drinking coffee until it was time to go to Helen Finch's (the coffee made from the little packets in the motel room tasted like hot water) but we ended up chatting so much that we took time packing up, ended up going straight to Helen's.
I know Helen Finch because during the years that she was the girlfriend of the Palestinian man who taught me all of those Arabic songs, my lessons were held at her little house. They would always cook lunch for me and we would eat before the lesson. I used to bring her food items from time to time such as a gallon of good olive oil.
She lives in a neighborhood of small block houses in north central Phoenix, probably built in the 1950's or 60's. It was her parents' home, and she has lived in it since her childhood. Most of her street is now Hispanic, owners rather than renters. On nearby streets are Mexican shops, Arabic shops, and even a little store selling African groceries and items.
Usually her neighborhood is peaceful, but she had a break-in last month, and she has installed a burglar-alarm system which she hasn't finished paying off.
It was so much fun visiting with her, and fun to see Vic's reaction to Helen Finch's amazing little little house. Vic ooh'd and aah'd over her very unusual style of decorating.
This is a photo of her bedroom:
Our hostess told us many hilarious stories of when she worked at the hospital, her experiences looking up her family's genealogy, etc. She and Vic hit it off really well. We drank strong, excellent coffee and had a delicious brunch of whole-grain waffles (with choice of butter, yogurt, honey, syrup etc...I chose peanut butter and honey) chicken sausage, and home made yogurt. We didn't end up leaving there until 2:30 in the afternoon.
Here are some photos of Helen Finch's kitchen, which she painted and decorated when she was on some medication she had to take when she was going through chemo, years ago. She has had two chemo episodes in the last ten years, with a long period of apparent good health and remission between them, and apparent remission and good health now.
Here is are some photos of the kitchen now, and one of Helen's mom in the same kitchen in the 1960's:
It was fun having both the evening and following day somewhere interesting and different.
When I got home, I went to the laundromat and then to Starbuck's to check e-mail and the other things I try to keep tabs on.
I got home just in time for Downton Abbey and Sherlock Holmes and the first glass of wine I'd had all week. The new Sherlock series is very edge-y and a bit difficult to follow (though I found it delightful, with its flashes in and out of dream states and time progressions).
I got a short e-mail from Helen Field, saying that she was making progress on getting her e-mail set up. I assume that Margaret helped her with this first one. It will be nice to send her photos.
Yesterday, Monday, I put a lot of effort into turning all of my compost piles. I have four large bins and four large piles: regular compost, mesquite compost, oleander compost, and sweet sumac compost. (I also make palo verde compost.) Because desert trees have such a strong smells, I make different compost for the different species and only put it on that species.
I do admit to being a bit of a compost fanatic, just a bit!. About the only yard waste which I do not compost are the palm tree fronds, and the large branches of the Chilean mesquite when we have that tree thinned out. The native mesquite does not grow so densely that it must be thinned out. Most of my pruning I cut off small enough pieces that they can go in the pile.
If I turn all the piles in one direction, they are all in the bins. The last time I turned them, it was in the other direction, so the bin nearest the chicken pen was empty, but there was a big pile of compost on the other end of the bins, right by the double gate which Dale Sr.'s bricklayer friend will have to back his truck in through when he delivers the bricks to make the new brick smoker (and pizza oven) which Dale Sr. is having built.
So, in order to clear the space in front of the double gate, I had to turn all the piles all in the other direction. I usually only turn one of the piles at a time, as they are quite large. Usually we only use one side of that double gate, so we don't usually need the area by the other side of the gate to be clear.
Here it is, all cleared out:
When I turn a compost pile in the winter, I always find those big grubs that the chickens like so much. Turning so many piles in one day, I found about thirty of them! The chickens were all lined up along the front edge of the pen the entire time; they could smell the earthy smell that you get when turning the compost and they know it means yummy grubs!
In the photo below, "Little Bit", our banty, is in the middle behind the big chickens. All of them are too old to lay much any more, but they are great compost shredders.(In warm weather they usually make two a day, between all of them...in cold weather, zilch.)
I was very relieved to get the piles all turned before the guys showed up! Actually, they never did show, because when the bricklayer friend got here (from Payson, up in the pines) he went first to Dale Sr.'s "man-cave" on 5th Avenue. Then they went over to Dale Jr.'s to look at a small stucco project which Dale Jr. needs to have done on the house he and his family are moving in to. But it's good to know that when the bricklayer friend does show up with all the bricks and other materials, he'll be able to back his truck in close to where the project will happen.
Turning all of the compost piles took me about three hours. My back felt sore. I still had to sweep the trashy patio and hang up all of the laundry I had washed Sunday afternoon. Then, although it was still only 5PM or so, I crawled into bed with my tired back propped up on some pillows, had a glass of wine, (my second this week) and read a Donna Leon mystery which I had read so long ago I did not remember the end.
After all of the socializing during the weekend, it felt rather good to have a solitary day which was also a physically active one. (And it felt delicious to sit in bed reading!)
During the last few days I have not kept to my weight-loss regime, nor remembered to take my medications in the evening and morning. However, turning all of those compost piles was a great deal of exercise!
Tech note: Nancy, I've found one thing which I did today, which may have caused the problem with the photo card. (Mom, you may remember that my former photo card became all jumbled up, and Nancy thought I should try always checking the little icon when I got the new card.) The little icon said I needed to close Picasa before I removed the photo card. I've probably removed the card while Picasa was still on, countless times!
Love,
Lennie
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