On Monday the excitment started. A cold front was sweeping across the country and it was going to hit Texas. Not just the Northern Texas Panhandle either, but all of Texas. Snow was coming.
Rumors were flying on Tuesday, Wedsnesday and Thursday. We would get half and inch. We would get 10 inches. We would get 2 inches, but it wouldn't stick. Inclement weather policies were reviewed. The city could shut down.
Friday came. Snow fell . . . in the Hill Country, north of us. In Stockdale, south of us. In Houston, to the east. But not in San Antonio. We were encompassed about with snow, but we never saw a flake of it.
The closest we got to snow was a layer of frost on Saturday morning.
05 December 2009
28 November 2009
It made me laugh
I was showing a guy what electronic resources we have and how to access them through our catalog. As he walked away he said "I'd tell you I love you, but I'm married."
21 November 2009
Don't know what this is
I want to write something, but I'm not sure what to say. Its like there's something on the back of my mind, percolating, but it hasn't come to a boil yet. It might be about the holidays, or about my next vacation. I just got a booklet of travel vouchers in the mail, inviting me to come on a short cruise and listen to some people talk about time shares. Well, they don't actually say time shares, they use some other phrase, but it sounds like the same thing. It could be fun.
I feel like I'm the edge of something. Or close to it, but I can't quite see what's on the other side yet. But I'm so close.
Or maybe I feel this way because all my stress-filled projects at work are over and done with and I'm waiting for the next one to appear. I just don't know.
I feel like I'm the edge of something. Or close to it, but I can't quite see what's on the other side yet. But I'm so close.
Or maybe I feel this way because all my stress-filled projects at work are over and done with and I'm waiting for the next one to appear. I just don't know.
14 November 2009
Did I miss Thanksgiving?
Last night as I was checking the mailbox, I noticed that one of my neighbors had Christmas lights up.
Christmas lights!
Christmas lights!
01 November 2009
Castles
You can't visit Britian without seeing castles. Wales has castles all up and down the coast, to watch for Irish invaders, and castles inland, to watch for the Celts, Pics, Saxons, and who knows what other tribes. So we had a lot of choices for seeing castles. We choose Harlech.
Harlech was on the coast, it had its own train stop, and Kirsten and MBC hadn't seen it yet. (They'd been in the UK for a while before I joined them and they had already seen many castles.) While the walls of Harlech were pretty much in tact, the interior wasn't. You could see where walls and ceilings used to be though. It was raining the day we visited, which added to the atmosphere. I feel like I need to read more medieval murder mysteries because now I get how dark and creepy castles can be. The stairs were particularly clausterphobic.
The stairs were not this light. All this light is from the camera flash.
While we were exploring the city and window shopping, we found another castle. Or what was left of a castle. 
We found it about half an hour before we had to go catch our bus, so we didn't much time to explore it. I had no idea what the momument is to. I didn't get close enough to see. The castle kind of surprised us because they were just these ruins in the middle of the city. Well cared for ruins, but open and public, like a park. You didn't have to pay to see this one. But we really shouldn't have been surprised. Its a city on the coast of Wales, practically every city has a castle. We probably should've expected it.
Harlech was on the coast, it had its own train stop, and Kirsten and MBC hadn't seen it yet. (They'd been in the UK for a while before I joined them and they had already seen many castles.) While the walls of Harlech were pretty much in tact, the interior wasn't. You could see where walls and ceilings used to be though. It was raining the day we visited, which added to the atmosphere. I feel like I need to read more medieval murder mysteries because now I get how dark and creepy castles can be. The stairs were particularly clausterphobic.
The stairs were not this light. All this light is from the camera flash.I like taking pictures from odd angles. So here's some of my more interesting shots.
On Thursday we decided to visit Aberystwyth. It was another coastal city, and we went specifically to see the coast. It was a beautiful, clear day.
While we were exploring the city and window shopping, we found another castle. Or what was left of a castle. We found it about half an hour before we had to go catch our bus, so we didn't much time to explore it. I had no idea what the momument is to. I didn't get close enough to see. The castle kind of surprised us because they were just these ruins in the middle of the city. Well cared for ruins, but open and public, like a park. You didn't have to pay to see this one. But we really shouldn't have been surprised. Its a city on the coast of Wales, practically every city has a castle. We probably should've expected it.
24 October 2009
Walking through Wales
Okay, so this is coming a little later than I had hoped. I got home from Wales on a Saturday, on Monday I had a presentation for work and on Wednesday I had Young Women in Excellence, in which I was in charge of the special musical number. So I couldn't really rest after I got home. After YW in E, my body protested doing anything else and became a gooey puddle of mucus. I've been coughing and sniffling ever since. BUT, this morning I felt hungry. I haven't felt hungry in days, so I think that's a good sign.
Anywho, back to Wales.
We did a lot of walking in Wales. I don't know if it was because we were in a National Park, or if this is just something that appears in Britain, but there were little walking signs all over. An official path would have either a little hiking man pointing the way, or just a yellow arrow. And the paths don't look like the paths in the U.S.'s National Parks either. There were no neatly paved trails or well kept dirt paths. A lot of the time you just had to watch for the trodden down grass. Sometimes we didn't even have that to go by. And the paths went everywhere. Through fields, over streets, across backyards. One said it was a trail but I suspect it was actually a small stream. Our feet certainly got wet enough. If it weren't for the turn by turn directions we got at the resort reception office, we might still be wandering in the hills of Wales. Not that that would be a bad thing.
We did 4 trails. Three in Machynlleth and 1 in Pennal. Machynlleth, or Mach as we quickly learned to call it, was the main town we in and out of to catch buses and trains. Pennal, the little village where our resort was, was about 4 kilometers away from Mach.
Here's the view from the top of hills looking down into Mach:
Another of our walks took us through Mach's golf course:
Can you see the sheep? I wonder how much of a penalty it is to hit a sheep?
Kirtsen points out the way:
Notice all the ferns. Ferns were everywhere. On this walk we went through a fern forest.
And this is the view from the top of the hills; okay, okay, I'll call them mountains (baby mountains), in Pennal:
The resort is in one of those valleys.
This is a horse we met on the way up the mountain. I think he's used to getting food from people when they walk by, because he was very attentive. I took this picture especially for my nieces D and A, who love horses.
I don't know where he went, but he was gone by the time we came back.
One thing I really liked about Wales was how green it was. These pictures really don't do it justice. Even when you have the contrast of changing leaves.
They say its very green in Ireland as well. I think I'll have go there to compare.
Anywho, back to Wales.
We did a lot of walking in Wales. I don't know if it was because we were in a National Park, or if this is just something that appears in Britain, but there were little walking signs all over. An official path would have either a little hiking man pointing the way, or just a yellow arrow. And the paths don't look like the paths in the U.S.'s National Parks either. There were no neatly paved trails or well kept dirt paths. A lot of the time you just had to watch for the trodden down grass. Sometimes we didn't even have that to go by. And the paths went everywhere. Through fields, over streets, across backyards. One said it was a trail but I suspect it was actually a small stream. Our feet certainly got wet enough. If it weren't for the turn by turn directions we got at the resort reception office, we might still be wandering in the hills of Wales. Not that that would be a bad thing.
We did 4 trails. Three in Machynlleth and 1 in Pennal. Machynlleth, or Mach as we quickly learned to call it, was the main town we in and out of to catch buses and trains. Pennal, the little village where our resort was, was about 4 kilometers away from Mach.
Here's the view from the top of hills looking down into Mach:
Very picturesque, no?
Another of our walks took us through Mach's golf course:
Can you see the sheep? I wonder how much of a penalty it is to hit a sheep?
Kirtsen points out the way:
Notice all the ferns. Ferns were everywhere. On this walk we went through a fern forest.
And this is the view from the top of the hills; okay, okay, I'll call them mountains (baby mountains), in Pennal:
The resort is in one of those valleys.
This is a horse we met on the way up the mountain. I think he's used to getting food from people when they walk by, because he was very attentive. I took this picture especially for my nieces D and A, who love horses.
I don't know where he went, but he was gone by the time we came back.
One thing I really liked about Wales was how green it was. These pictures really don't do it justice. Even when you have the contrast of changing leaves.
They say its very green in Ireland as well. I think I'll have go there to compare.
15 October 2009
Poetry Workshop
I just got out of a poetry workshop with Naomi Shihab Nye. She had come to the library to do the yearly William Morris lecture for staff, but instead of lecturing us, she had activities and stories for us. Naomi is a poet and author who has been writing since she was 6 years old, and has won numerous awards. She is probably most known for her poems about her heritage because she is part Arab. I first heard her on NPR. She has the most wonderful voice. She has one of those voices that I could listen to for hours, but not drift oft to. I could listen to her and pay attention to. So you can see what I mean, take a listen to this.
Doesn't she have the best poetry voice?
Anyway, back to the workshop. Even though the workshop was geared towards activities for children and outreach to schools, I came away with many ideas for the Poetry Picante program, which is an open mic poetry program that I help run. I've got names of new poets to invite to read and group writing activities to try. Poetry Picante struggles. Or I think it struggles. I don't have many other library open mic programs to compare it to, but we get an average of 6 people attending each month. Some people tell me this is good. But I don't know. I think part of reason why I think it struggles is because I only have one regular. So I get all these people who show up once, and then never come back. We do better when I can say we have a specific poet coming, so if I can get some of these new poets to come, things should pick up.
As part of the workshop she had us do some writing. Just some short little pieces that came from some writing prompts she gave us. Here are mine:
You may not be who I think you are.
How can I tell, if you never come back
from Korea?
The kitten Max loves to chase gnats across
the carpet. Which is cute. He also love to
climb the drapes; which is not.
What's a cassette? asked the 5 year old boy,
who had never paid much attention to the old
machines at grandma's house.
She gave us some tips for responding to poems too. She says to ask questions like "How does it make you feel?" or "Does this bring anything to mind?" and to never ask "What does it mean?" There can be multiple meanings for any one thing. Asking what it means restricts it to one interpretation.
I also have many more books to add to my reading list. Its so easy to get enthusiastic about reading something when someone who adores the books give them to you. So onto my list go:
Today's Special Dish by Nina Lindsay
You Hear Me? poems and writings by teenage boys edited by Betsy Franco
Braided Creek: a conversation in poetry by Jim Harrison and Ted Kooser
Is This Forever, or What? poems and paintings from Texas selected by Naomi Shihab Nye
Going, Going by Naomi Shihab Nye
I'd like to pass on a recommendation for Going, Going to anyone who likes to discover independent restaurants and businesses. B-town crew, this means you.
Doesn't she have the best poetry voice?
Anyway, back to the workshop. Even though the workshop was geared towards activities for children and outreach to schools, I came away with many ideas for the Poetry Picante program, which is an open mic poetry program that I help run. I've got names of new poets to invite to read and group writing activities to try. Poetry Picante struggles. Or I think it struggles. I don't have many other library open mic programs to compare it to, but we get an average of 6 people attending each month. Some people tell me this is good. But I don't know. I think part of reason why I think it struggles is because I only have one regular. So I get all these people who show up once, and then never come back. We do better when I can say we have a specific poet coming, so if I can get some of these new poets to come, things should pick up.
As part of the workshop she had us do some writing. Just some short little pieces that came from some writing prompts she gave us. Here are mine:
You may not be who I think you are.
How can I tell, if you never come back
from Korea?
The kitten Max loves to chase gnats across
the carpet. Which is cute. He also love to
climb the drapes; which is not.
What's a cassette? asked the 5 year old boy,
who had never paid much attention to the old
machines at grandma's house.
She gave us some tips for responding to poems too. She says to ask questions like "How does it make you feel?" or "Does this bring anything to mind?" and to never ask "What does it mean?" There can be multiple meanings for any one thing. Asking what it means restricts it to one interpretation.
I also have many more books to add to my reading list. Its so easy to get enthusiastic about reading something when someone who adores the books give them to you. So onto my list go:
Today's Special Dish by Nina Lindsay
You Hear Me? poems and writings by teenage boys edited by Betsy Franco
Braided Creek: a conversation in poetry by Jim Harrison and Ted Kooser
Is This Forever, or What? poems and paintings from Texas selected by Naomi Shihab Nye
Going, Going by Naomi Shihab Nye
I'd like to pass on a recommendation for Going, Going to anyone who likes to discover independent restaurants and businesses. B-town crew, this means you.
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