O, La Luna

Poor misshapen moon

Cradled by the clouds

Is she not lovely, la luna

Within These Walls

This is probably one of the worst times for me to write something. Because I can’t write on the subject I would like very much to. Not kittens. I have photos of kittens, which I have been thinking of a lot lately, for a number of reasons. Two plus four reasons, actually. 2 + 4 = 2, to be exact.

I have been thinking of kittens to help sooth a monumental headache which took residence within my skull, as of Thursday last and stayed, an unwanted visitor, until Saturday night, after the concert. That would be the Thursday and Friday we had late dress rehearsals for the concert.

It’s the concert I want to write about. The first concert of the season, some wonderful music. Choral music. Words set to music, what could be better? This is my second season singing with this organisation, and each time we begin work on the next material I find myself quite pleased with our director. He is very knowledgeable about the music—not just as a good conductor, but he tells us a lot of background for each piece, and the nuances of the particular period of music from which the piece hails. I learn something new each set of concert music we explore. As if adding to my vocabulary, as music is the language I speak.

But I can’t talk about it right now. I am having a hard time making sense, so hang in there as you read this. I feel as though I am still recovering from this headache thang, whatever it is. I know folks are sincerely trying to be helpful, but why is it everyone is trying to give me allergies? It goes, how are you, or are you okay, depending on the degree of grimace in my expression, I imagine. Describe a headache that won’t go away, and they give you an allergy. It’s allergies. No, it can’t be allergies; we don’t have any of those. (We are very fortunate.) And it doesn’t match up, anyway. Last Wednesday T3 was home, sleeping all day with… a headache. Well, he had a fever, too. Then it was I with the headache, then T2 was home Monday with… a headache. Well, he had a scratchy throat and felt weak, too. It was almost a relief when I made a connection between what ails me and the boys being ill. I may not let well-meaning friends give me allergies, but it’s surprising what I was willing to give myself. It’s all in my head—so close to the brain, you know?

The boys only suffered a day, each. I am still feeling the effect of whatever the headache is. I wonder if it has anything to do with my decision to stop taking caffeine. Ha! No, it is not the cause of the original ailment, but I didn’t think I could feel any worse, so why not detox as long as I was so miserable. Nothing would touch this headache. Admittedly, I only tried ibuprofen with a little coffee; the adrenaline from the concert performance gave it the final little kick, and by the time I returned home, I was feeling better overall. Yet, there’s a lingering something, but after having 2 cups of full strength coffee every day for months, I suppose it could be expected. What a relief it will be, once I’m clear of the caffeine. I do not like being dependent like that—at some point, you have to have it, or you suffer.

And now, as my suffering is easing, so shall I ease yours and end this. I’m going to go think of kitties, maybe find three or four to pet, so soothing don’t you think? And then, a strong cup of decaf tea. Mmm, it doesn’t sound quite right, does it?

Yes, I'm in Tune--with the Universe

Do you know what it’s like to have a moment when it seems the universe is really clicking for you? Everything falls into place at the right time, just when you need it to. For me, it usually follows a period of at least mild panic brought about by worry due to conflicting information or schedules, seasoned with some confusion.

Well, my friends, everything fell into place yesterday, at least for this week. Thank goodness. I was almost having a moment of regret for feeling smug, comparing my meager agenda with some friends of mine, who you know had overcommitted themselves and their children. All it took was a couple comments that we seemed busy. A little ray of doubt streaked across the calendar, as I realised we had three big things on for Saturday. A major concert (me, with audience member husband), two futból games back-to-back added this week (T2), and an event we were relying upon for a rare family outing. All it took was reading the information page regarding the outing to see that it was for Sunday, and it felt like all was right with the world. Amazing how well things can go when you pay attention to details. Deep breath, and let it out! Now, all we have to do is determine how to get from the games back to the concert venue and have the squids attended to for the evening. Big brother (T1) to the rescue? Ah-ha!

We’re not that busy, really. This week it’s two futból practices, 3 rehearsals, chess club, a concert, a family outing, additional time on tech preparations for a theatrical show, a get-together for a pregnant friend, one sick day (T3), and the regular weekly obligations of school and work and skateboarding (T1). Not every person is involved in every activity. Next week subtract 2 rehearsals and a get-together, increase time on the theatrical production, exchange the outing for a futból tourney, and as you can see, it’s much different.

Enough of that nonsense. I have to show you something. When I see this, I always smile. It’s as though they are smiling at me, and I can’t help but return the favour.

It’s a party! Look at all those smiling faces. Sunflowers!

These are wildflowers—prairie flowers?--they are smaller than the sunflowers which produce the large seed heads, the edible seeds. These sunflowers showed up this year on their own. A lovely large cluster in the garden, such a pleasure to see in the morning sun. I guess we can thank the birds in their willingness to help in seed distribution.

The sunflowers are beautiful and plentiful this year. They can be seen in untilled fields, between subdivisions and shopping developments. The road we take to the futból fields is lined with them. They welcome us every time we drive to practice sessions.

One last photo for the road (click it for greater detail):

Aren’t they cute? I think they are making plans for later.

A Little Aarrr! and Aarrr!

(click me fer a better look, ye scoundrels!)

Ahoy Matey! I be here to give ye a few words in anticipation of “Talk Like a Pirate Day”. T' lovely, fair lass whose writin ye be accustomed t' be readin, be busy wi' her singin this fine bstarboard e'enin, and I saw me chance t' take o’er.

Listen up now, International Talk Like a Pirate Day is comin up quick, and don’t forget it! It commences September 19, t’ same as every year. Except for them rascals in Australia, they somehow got it into their heads they had t’ be celebratin it the 22nd, what be up with that? The scurvy dogs, they get the weekend that way, Aaarrrrrr!

Me, I’ll be talkin like this th' whole week! It be entertainin for the young sprogs—and we have quite a few who be needin attention, I can tell you! When they don’t be wi' their sweet, dedicated mother, they be playin wi' me tail or bitin me ankles. Thar ain’t nothin t' be done t' stop ‘em. Aye, it be good fun! Aarrr!

I must be off now, an’ smartly. ‘Tis time t' be climbin as high up as possible just t' see if it be possible done wi’out some’at leapin off t’ “shelf” to its demise. T’fair, gentle-hearted lass in charge o’ the ship here don’t care for them types of accidents. Sorry, me beauty, but ‘tis great fun, an’ I don’t usually care what happens when I be havin fun. Aaarrrrr!

What follows be some information fer ye, me hearty. I be passin it along for t’ help wi’ yer piratical pursuits this week. On behalf o' this ship full o’ sprogs, I t’ank ye kindly fer stoppin by!

Farewell, ye buccaneers, I am
Official Bob
Piratical Cat

Official site: Talk Like A Pirate Day

Another “official” site, and how to be speakin pirate-like

T’ Newsletter

A bunch o’ pirate videos: piratical-satirical stuff, too

Man on the Street

What if you were walking along down the street and you encountered a really big man? I mean BIG. He's there, right in front of you, won’t move. He’s cold, doesn't care what you think of him. This man takes up a lot of space. What would you say? What would you do?


I'll bet you would stare. You would have to take a really close look at him, speechless at how large he truly was. Your children might try to climb on him, not understanding.

HE'S BIG.

Really big. (click the photos and he will appear even bigger)

He's art. That's not his name. According to the sculptor, David Phelps, he is the Pastoral Dreamer. I called the gallery to find out. The man is art, and on the street, where the peoples can see (and touch) him.

It is good.

Power Play

You know you're in the Urban Prairie when:

It looks as though the prairie hedge might cover it, if only these plants would grow just a little taller...

Mmmm, maybe not.

This is found right in the middle of the neighborhood, just a block or so from a catholic school and church, houses all around. Handsome!

(click on photos to make them bigger, if you really need to)

Angels

Angels and PVs for you.

(please click photo to see larger picture)

When, perchance, you feel in need of support, this is from me and mine to you and yours, my dear friends.

When T2 was between two and three years of age, we would be driving through the neighbourhood to take older brother to school. Whenever he saw the sunlight touching the early morning dew, he would tell me, "Look, Mommie, angels!" It is one of the sweetest things I have ever heard.

And so I give you...angels.

(click also HERE)

Something's Bugging Me

I don’t know exactly how to say this—and that has been part of the problem for about ten days—but something has been bugging me. Maybe not just one thing.

Have you ever had a notion in the back of your mind, there is something you know, but can’t name it, or you had it a moment ago, but then something else happened, you were distracted, and now it’s no longer on the tip of your mind. Something is missing, or something isn’t quite right.

Well, that is what I have had, all summer. Something was not right. But what? I mean, yeah, it was too hot, we all know that. Too hot is just not right! Then, I started seeing it all over the internet, and I realised I had a clue all along. Birds! I was seeing birds in backyards, gardens, fields all over the world, but not here. Where were they? No birds, no birdsong, no birds in sight. I did see signs of them here and there, as you might expect, showing that they dropped by every so often. They would leave souvenirs to remind us.

I thought I had a clue, anyway. The dear Mister said he saw some of them hiding out underneath cars in a parking lot once, on a hot day. We don’t have proof of it, though—he didn’t have a camera handy. It sounded possible at the time. So, did the heat drive them into hiding? Or was it something more…sinister?

(click to enlarge each photo...if you dare!)

This was on our back door screen: praying mantis, wee hours of the morning.


What about this? How would you like to see this in your car, hanging by a thread? You see it out of the corner of your eye: Surely not, there is surely NOT a spider coming down from the sun visor this close to me, while I’m driving!! I don’t wish that on anyone, it’s very unsafe.


Eh—no, I didn’t take this while I was driving. But I did find another setting on the camera, apparently it—what, makes a slower “shutter” speed? It’s a digital camera, and yes, we do have the instruction booklet, what’s the fun of that, anyway? As you can see, this was a moving experience.

Oh alright, this little thing wasn’t as big and scary as you might think. It did make for some interesting moments of contemplation on my part as I drive home, wondering what I would do if it started moving. Toward me.

Here is proof that the bugs are not all scary creatures. This one is surprisingly colourful, and dare I say it, cute.

Guess which plant this is? I know you can.

Ha! This was taken when the others were holding the large, fairly newly opened seed pods. I’m still waiting for this to throw out some late season flowers. It’s possible, isn’t it?


Now, what is it with the bugs and automobiles? This was taken about a month ago. And guess what?

We found another one in the same place this morning! Same tire and everything.

Okay, another break for a cute bug. In my fog, I thought this was taken a week or so later, but the dates on the photos say only a couple days. And you have to totally ignore the photo numbers, I don’t know what’s up with that. This one was taken later than the others, after there was actually some rain. I’m going to stop trying to sort that one out.

So let’s go with my recollection of what I actually did, supposedly. I thought it was a week between shots, thereby leading me to wonder how this little bug would still be hanging around. I guess my impression of bugs is that they are here and there, everywhere. Although I have to admit I’m on the lookout for that praying mantis at the back door.

Is anybody home? What’s that—a glint in its eye?

I have definitely answered the question of where they get the ideas for creatures and creepy doings in horror/scary movies. Insects! Hallo, nature is creepier than anyone’s imagination, people!

I have proof. Soccer season has started. First time in two years for us. Err, that would be football for some of you, and actually, we are going to call it futból, as our coach and trainer are Spanish speakers. “Football” makes more sense to me. Dunno how they got started calling the so-called American football as such, because they rarely touch the ball with the foot. It really should just be called “kill the guy with the ball” ‘cos that’s all I see. That would free up “football” for “soccer”.

But I digress.

What’s bugging me about soccer/football/futból, you ask? Here you go, this is what we saw last Thursday:

When will it END??

And now, I think I shall have to go somewhere quiet, and possibly dark, and just think sweet thoughts, change the energy waves moving through my jumbled mind… just think of…

(photos also found HERE)

Yes, but WHERE?

FEED ME

(please click all photos to enlarge)

Which is it: The cry of “feed me, mama” heard from little birdlings? Or:

“FEED ME, Seymour!” from Little Shop of Horrors?

That’s what I saw when these seed pods began to open. Do you know what plant they come from? No, really, do you? ‘Cos I don’t know the name of it. Can you guess what the plant looks like before the seed pods appear? That would be the flower stage. Mmm, you will have to go with my description, then, because surprisingly, I don’t have a photo of the large, pale pink flowers this plant produces. They are about as big as my hand, kind of floppy like an oversized petunia flower, but with a wider base and without a fluted shape. There may be some buds appearing on one of the plants, so I will report back at a later date, unless some very bright person reading this knows this plant. The plant itself stands about 4 feet high! Yes, true. The seed pods are about six inches across. Just kidding! They are only two inches across at the widest part of the largest pod. (Oops, this is an error--they are only about one inch across. I don't think they have shrunk that much.)

The plants have been standing like this for a few weeks now. I have left them because of their unique appearance, and to see what happens next. They don’t seem to be of interest to birds, so I am considering a harvest and planting seeds in a few places around the garden where the soil doesn’t seem to want anything besides crazygrass. We don’t know how it came about that these plants grew up in our garden, but they have come up three years running, in the same location.




When it rained recently, every single one of the seed pods closed up tight—even tighter than this one in the center. As the sun came out the following day, everything rapidly warmed and dried, and these opened up again, status quo ante.

Every time I look at these plants I think of the phrase, “Feed me.” From the parenting world, it recalls a book, “Feed Me, I’m Yours,” by Vicki Lansky, which I see at various book sales. It is highly recommended for its baby- and toddler food recipes and ideas. The book has been around a long time. I always thought that was a clever title.

I was musing over the command that it is: FEED ME! and the idea of being fed. People speak of being intellectually fed, spiritually fed, fed-up, fed food they like or dislike. Lots of us utilise the internet to visit and make friends. We learn of places and people that previously didn’t exist in our immediate vicinity. Are we being fed, or are we feeding ourselves? We are nurturing ourselves, reaching out to those sharing their gifts: words, images, music, knowledge; feeding our hearts and minds with the connections made across the miles. We are feeding others the offertory of our own talents. Complementary—oh, and complimentary--exchanges spring up as we offer each other support; express appreciation.

I enjoy this camaraderie and this community. I’m having a blast learning the ins and outs of operating this, my own small forum of mischief and magic. Now, before I think of another path to explore for a paragraph, here is a little of…which?

Bean There

This photo, credit: ZAZ

(click on each photo to see the bigger picture)

We took a trip this summer. Went on holiday. Left the premises. We were on vacation. Took it on the road. Didn’t look back!

Guess where we went? Chicago. I had to go back to renew my non-accent and recall my dialect. And attend a conference, but I’m not talking about that right now. I’m talking about one of our favorite places to visit downtown. It’s a sculpture park, among other things, called Millennium Park.

See? It’s true!

It’s right downtown and across the street from the Chicago Art Institute.

This is one of the most interesting things I’ve ever seen, because of the many ways you can look at it, or see into it. You will understand in a moment. It is the Cloud Gate, commonly known as the Bean. I actually found us in this photo, in the reflection.

Cloud Gate is the creation of British artist Anish Kapoor. That’s not chrome, it’s made of highly polished stainless steel plates. Here is even more information.

If you check the link, you will see that this sculpture park has not escaped the corporate naming syndrome. I was really really hoping, but was disappointed. I won’t name the corporation. The city we live in is rampant with the syndrome. At least the public schools and the library system aren’t named after some wealthy businessperson. Yet.

You have to walk inside the Bean. It is absolutely incredible. Look at all the configurations of each person’s reflection:

There we are, at the bottom. Can you see the wild distortions? How many times do you see us reflected?

Here’s a wider view. This time I used a flash. It makes it easier to track us.

We were able to make a family portrait. Does this make me look too… ?

I don’t know where those little things came from, but they would run away and then spring back to our side. We usually have all our things with us, but the eldest was off on a different adventure for the summer.

You can’t see Millennium Park in the photo, but it is on the right. We’re going around the southwest corner of the park, turning north onto Michigan Avenue from Monroe.

I believe we only went one block north to Madison and turned west.

This is the Wabash Avenue elevated train platform, the “el”. We turned left, or south, and drove under it, on Wabash.

Our trip this summer was tempered by the time involved with the conference. It was probably good for us, in a way, as we usually try to do too many things on each expedition northward. Still and all, it was disappointing that we were not able to stop to see our good friends on the way up or back. But wait--that, in itself, gives us new opportunity--time to plan the next journey!

The good news is we took lots of photos, snaps, pics, close-ups, prints, portraits, mugs, landscapes, clicks, shots, images... and there is much more to tell.

(Check this space often!)

Departure

I thought I had chosen well. My intention had been to choose someone fearless, strong, yet wise, patient; someone indomitable. I thought I had chosen well. But then, I saw it. In his eyes. It flickered like a votive candle left at the bathroom window until the sides melted just enough for the wax to break through and trickle down and over the edge of the windowsill.

I saw, but didn’t believe. I kept my question short, my comment succinct. “Are you leaving? You can take them.” And there it was. That look. Like a cornered dog on the street. The eyes rolled back and off to the side, then tried to focus on me again, blinking rapidly. “Maybe you should go,” he said, walking into the next room. I stuttered, voicing my objection. “No…Wait! Yes, I will go,” I replied quickly. He turned back to me, his head snapping 'round. He realized what he had said. “No! You’ll take too long. You won’t come back.” He had a point. I wouldn’t. We were back where we started.

“Just go, take them, you’ll be fine.” I was becoming impatient. They were his kids, too, after all. There it was, that flicker of fear in his eyes; that look of bewilderment. He would have to take the boys with him to the store. How would he survive this time? He was tired, hungry! They were coming at him. “Make sure they are wearing clothes,” I reminded him. The stores have rules about that.

Them's Fightin' Words!

Who you callin' a Pansy?

This is a Tansy. And it looks a lot better today than it did just one short week ago, when, as everyone must remember, it was really dry. And hot. I originally planted the tansy because it was purported to keep ants away, which happened to show up uninvited from time to time. "Just plant it by your door" and that was supposed to do the trick. The ants just nodded and walked around it, harrumph. In the end, we used mint spray to get rid of the ants. I was just going to say, we should have planted mint--but we did! We had a lot of it for several years. And yep, it was around the back door. It even grew up between the brick steps. Gotta love that mint. It doesn't affect the ants the way tansy is SUPPOSED to. The mint finally got tired of the searing heat, and didn't come back this year. ::sigh::

This almost looks like the tansy is out in the wild. In a way, it is. It's growing in the garden next to the house. The "grass" is quite persistent and grows quickly, sending out runners. I think it's called "crabgrass" in other places I've lived. Anyhoo, I don't like tending to it, and so I don't, very often. I'm afraid I'm not a very avid gardener here, having had some spectacular failures. The crazygrass makes a nice green background for the tansy, don't you think?

Here's another longtime resident of my garden - twelve years old now, I think:

Rosemary

Poor dear, almost didn't make it, for the first time. And then, it rained. You can see the new growth. I am waiting to see if it will bloom for us now. Have you ever seen rosemary in bloom? Beautiful!

Catastrophe - Act 1

[Scene 1: Photo credit to ZAZ (T2)]

Oh, no! How could this happen?!!

Did the kittens make the washer barf them out with the laundry? It looks like the end of the road for these feline felons. And the room looked so nice before--a true CATastrophe.

This is how I found them earlier:

I think they heard us talking about giving them another bath. It looks as though they decided on an alternative. Kind of extreme, if you ask me. I dunno, I had the impression they kind of enjoyed the last shampoo.

Hee-hee-hee.

Caught in a Whirlwind

That would include activities going on around here; weather changes; thoughts... you name it.

We have gotten the three boys ready for school, which started up this week. T2 and T3 began Tuesday, T1 goes Wednesday. T3--First Day of School for this one, how exciting! He is quiet in new situations. I was very happy for him when he told me, holding up an awkward configuration of three fingers, how many new friends he made. T2 is enrolled in this particular school for the first time. He was worried about being new. He has made four new friends so far--all boys. T1 picked up his schedule, which is printed out in columns. Only one column is understandable--the subject title, thank goodness. This week is the first week for everyone--the parents have a meeting at T2/T3's school Thursday. Whew.

This past Saturday marked the beginning of the season for the choir in which I sing. We had a jumpstart all day rehearsal. What a great day...I had car keys and no passengers! Woo-hoo, I was out and about, in the pouring rain. Pouring!

Which brings me to the weather whirlwind--literally. As the television weatherheads are fond of saying, a lot of weather came our way Saturday and Sunday. Apparently, the tropical storm/hurricane from the Gulf of Mexico blew far enough north to create some weather (haha) for central Oklahoma. Storms ensued, and then it even formed an "eye" and did lots of damage. Sudden floods; at least 6 people died, some from being washed away in their cars; many areas without power, even yet Sunday evening. There were neighborhoods in our city without power that long, but we seemed to have been spared this time.

Here's what we found Sunday morning (click to enlarge all photos--although some look better at the smaller size--ahem!):



The branch fell down right on the spot the mister had parked his car overnight. Fortunately, he had to leave for work in the weeee hours of the morning. He said it was in the worst part of the storm, which would be hard to tell, in my opinion, since the worst part seemed to go on the entire night. Did I tell you it was absolutely pouring rain? It was the maple that dropped that branch. It's hard to tell--d'you see that other tree with the pinky red things all over it? It's hogging the limelight, making it look like it belongs with the trunk of the maple. Don't let it fool you.

You can see this dead branch in the above photo, also:

This dead branch is part of one that housed a woodpecker family a few years ago. The branch reminded me of a musical instrument. Because of its size, I thought bassoon, but something about it also made me think, flute. Maybe this is the type of flute that would produce those whispy, papery tones...

I'll bet you thought this was going to be all about plants, right? Just wait. Adding to our busy morning Sunday, our mama cat, Drea, (more of her story another day) decided to bring one of her kitties out of the closet:

We couldn't tell exactly what she intended to do. She was very concerned about this kitty, but she would walk away from it to eat or drink, then run back when he cried loudly. Drea wanted to play a little, but then would be drawn to minister to her kitten. I thought it was funny she would walk away from him, leaving him all along in the middle of the floor. The walkway, really. On the other hand, since when does a cat care whether it's in the middle of a walkway?

Drea would pick up the kitty, move him a couple feet away, then sooth him. This kept up throughout our morning preparations to leave the house. It occurred to me perhaps she just needed a break--a babysitter, maybe?

This is Drea's female kitten from her previous litter. She doesn't quite know what to make of this little guy. The baby kitty is barely two weeks old, Soleil is four months old. I know, I know. Don't even ask how old Drea is! As I said, I will tell the CAT story another day. Did you notice the little guy's eyes are open?

I have another theory for Drea bringing out this kitten. You know how, in nature, the way things work is "perfect"? Everything happens as it should. A difficult concept for us humans, who are ready to "fix" anything that is "broken." Growing up on a farm, I saw this in reality, over and over again. Well, I thought perhaps this kitten might be particularly in need of tutoring. The mama cat would watch this kitten crawl away from her, and wait for him to find his way back. She would move him, walk away, then come back. This repeated several times. You see, this kitten looks exactly like one of its possible sires, which would be the mother's, errr, brother. So I thought, maybe... nature's Special Education program?

Okay, this is now just about as long as one of my emails, so I should get to the publishing part. Oh, one more survivor of the storm:

Ah, there we go. My eyes feel better now.

The Boys of Summer

Yesterday we found a way to cool off: The splashpad. These so-called "spraygrounds" are a new phenomenon here, this year. (All photos enlarge, just click on them.)

This one is located where formerly stood the last wading pool in the city. The only pool with a maximum depth of 36 inches. Perfect for little kids. And mommies who can't swim. I was disappointed when I saw them plowing it under.

However, the wading pool had its undesirable traits: No Shade. Anywhere. Difficult to look forward to spending daytime hours in the hot sun with the wee ones, even in the water. Do you know how well kids enjoy reapplying sunblock? Thaaat's right.

There was an ugly little concrete building where you could risk germ exposure and change clothes in a tiny and stuffy room. For some reason, they always had people sign in for the wading pool. There were a couple life guards. One would hide out inside at the sign-in desk. One time a friend of mine was approached by one of these young twits and actually told she couldn't breastfeed her baby there. Being an advanced branch of society, each state of the US is having to enact some sort of law "making it legal" to breastfeed in public. Or not illegal. Such nonsense!! (But that's a whole 'nother topic, for another time.) The news obviously hadn't gotten out to all the city employees that summer. I suppose with the splash pads the city won't need to employ as many life guards. So everybody wins.

Here comes a messenger! He's inviting me to join them, telling me how he got splashed. You can tell which children are mine - the guys most pale. Oooo, I just remembered I can say it is partly from the zinc oxide in the sunblock, yeah, that's right. Not only from hiding indoors from the heat. I did go in the water--after taking "just a few more" photos. Well, I took some in the water, too. Sorry, no photos of me this time (though you would be thanking me this time!). Heh.

I really enjoyed being there. We arrived just after 4 pm and stayed for about an hour. As you can see, there were fountains that sprayed really high, and some parents were carrying their smaller and more timid children into the water. It was lovely, like standing in the rain.

I was a bit concerned about the creepy guy to the right with the camera. You can see him in the last 3 photos. He was taking pictures of the children at the "sprayground"! Who did he belong to? I did sort him out--you can see his child in one of the pics. Whew! Wouldn't want some stranger getting photos of my children.

Here I took my life the camera's life into my hands to snap this one. I really wanted to show more the motion of the wheel. It's obviously spinning in the water. It is obvious, isn't it?

Is this going against the forces of nature?

I mean, is it natural for water to spiral in a circular fashion into a square drain? I was fascinated by the different patterns made by the droplets as the water flowed lightly, then with more strength as the water splashed from the various spots on the pad.

After about an hour, the concrete surface took its toll on its first victim. A scrape on the palm ensured much misery, and questions as to why, oh why do they make the ground surface of these places with rough concrete? Actually, that's a good question. See the pattern painted on the ground? The painted places are actually rougher than the plain concrete.

We retreated to the minivan to return to our street clothes. Yes, the one reason I like driving a minivan: you can change clothes in it, relatively out of sight of the general public. Oh, wait, that's the second reason--the first is being able to transport 5-6 people (usually children) safely in one vehicle.

Back home, after a break hiding out in the thrift store, searching for treasure.