Seal Beach

As we drove up the California coast, I noticed a sign advertising a view of elephant seals.  I pulled right into the parking lot, looked down the way, and saw a couple of heads sticking out of the surf.  I haven't seen many seals in the wild, so I was impressed.

 Then we followed the crowd up the boardwalk.  On the other side of a boulder, we saw a few more.

And even more.  Apparently this beach is a favorite flopping place for elephant seals.

 Between naps, they cavort to their own vocal accompaniment.

Even though seals are important characters in many of their games, D2 and Rollo were more interested in this squirrel.  Somehow rodents beat pinnipeds.

Construction Zone

Our final big destination in Southern California was Legoland, realizing Rollo and D2's long-held wishes.  The rest of us liked it, too.  There are some rides, which I was pleased to see were geared toward active youngsters.  There was a driving test, only for those twelve and under.  (Scoot was disappointed that the cars didn't go faster.)  We pulled ourselves up a tower with ropes.  And the dragon roller coaster was, according to D2 (who hated the coaster we rode at Sea World) "awesome!"

 What I thought was really awesome was the Lego artwork.  From impressively detailed  miniatures of familiar landscapes . . .

(this one must be from our neck of the woods)

to large copies of familiar minifigures,

the creativity was amazing.  And there was room for everyone to exercise their own creativity.

 

 Scoot built this castle in a little building pavilion,

 while D2 and Rollo built this one.

 Dandelionslayer and the Caterpillar even found the right pieces

to build a favorite band.

 There was also plenty of water, on a day that never really heated up.

 We learned the construction secrets of the Pharaohs,

 and of star ship building in a galaxy far, far away.  So, it was a fun, creative, educational day.

And I can't leave you without a picture of Einstein and the buffaloes.

Musical Monday

We've been indulging in a little Russian folk music lately.  "Коробейники" ("Korobeiniki" for those of us who don't read Cyrillic) is a lively tune for a tragic tale (isn't that typical of folk music?) of a peddler and a peasant girl meeting in the moonlight in a rye field (sorry for all the parentheses).  Isn't it picturesque?

When my peers hear the tune, though, a different picture comes to mind.  We see oddly-shaped puzzle pieces coming through the rye at an ever-increasing tempo, and we must fit them together before--oops, game over.  Yes, "Коробейники"is more widely known in the West as "Tetris Theme A."

Dandelionslayer thinks this would be a fun tune for beginning percussionists to play on their bells, so he has been researching arrangements and working something up.  It's not quite ready yet, so I'll share another version.  In honor of the Caterpillar's recent debut in the local marching band, here's the Cal Band playing Tetris:

Squawking at Sea World

Next on our San Diego agenda was Sea World.  Naturally, a visit to the penguins was a priority.

These Magellanic penguins didn't seem to think it was too hot,

but they could always go for a swim.

We watched polar bears pace, and pinnipeds prance.

We saw belugas and orcas, with their giant babies.

We touched soft, slimy rays that weren't quite that big,

and admired merchandise.  There was plenty to squawk about, 

and three boys fell fast asleep on the short ride back to the hotel.

Adding Monkeys to the San Diego Zoo

We continued our tour of the San Diego area with a trip to the famous Zoo.  As usual, we weren't sure whether our little monkeys would be allowed out of the zoo again, but we took the chance.

It really was impressive.  I don't recall seeing baby flamingos before, but we saw a few in San Diego.  See the awkward-looking gray birds?  I guess they haven't built up their shrimp reserves yet.

Quite a few of the animals were up and moving, like this orangutan.  Even the mama panda was chewing bamboo in full view of the audience, though I seem to have forgotten to take a picture of her.

It was a hot day, for San Diego.  I'd have liked to join this bird, splashing in the water.

This shady monkey fort looked pretty good, too.

This little leopard was a busy guy,

and thankfully smaller than the saber cats that used to roam California!

Saving Seeds

I usually miss picking a few pea pods when they're fresh.  They get lost in the glorious green tangle, and I don't find them until the seeds are getting a bit tough.  So I let them go.  They mature and dry out.  When I pull up the plants, I pick the crisp pods and save the seeds for next year. 

It looks like I missed more than a few pods this summer.  I'll have plenty to plant next spring.  Since I bought the previous seeds from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds, I know the new ones will grow true.

 In fact, I think I'll plant a few right now, since they're already sprouting.  I've never tried a fall crop before.  Here's to a new garden adventure!

Patience?

I was stitching this sashiko placemat at the church one evening this spring, waiting for the boys to finish their activities.  An older lady stopped by to admire my work, and said, "You must be so patient."

I'd heard that one before.

The first time I remember receiving that compliment was during high school.  I was at a track meet, whiling away the hours between my events with this cross stitch project: 

I usually ran in the very first and last races of the meet, so I had plenty of time.  One of my teammates stopped by to see what I was doing, asked a couple of questions, and ended with, "You must be so patient."

I don't think either of us knew that was a standard, ritualistic compliment for those engaging in fancywork.   She must have meant it.  I knew she meant well.  But it didn't seem quite right to me.

I've done plenty of public stitching over the years, and heard the same thing over and over, and said something like "Thank you" in return.  But I never figured out why it bothered me until that evening at the church this spring.

I don't stitch because I'm patient.  I stitch because I'm impatient.

I hate sitting and waiting with nothing to do.  D2's tee ball games were tedious when my hands were empty.  But when I took my sashiko along, the games were pleasant.  I accomplished most of that particular project at tee ball games, actually.

When soccer practice schedules keep me waiting, I need a book or a crochet project to keep me busy.  The same principle applies to church activities, traveling, even visits with relatives. (The stitching, of course, not the reading, so I can be available to converse.) 

Even at home, I need a distraction sometimes.  For example, today I supervised Rollo and D2 in cleaning their room.  This is an intensive sort of supervision to take on, as they will do absolutely nothing without specific instructions, and not much more without frequent repetition.  To keep my hands from strangling my beloved sons during the process, I wound six skeins of yarn into balls.  That's 47,520 inches of yarn.  Exactly 3/4 of a mile, as Dandelionslayer pointed out.  And yes, the room behind the balls is exceedingly orderly, when compared to its previous state.

There's something soothing about thread, and being able to accomplish something, little by little, when people or circumstances are beyond my complete control.   Or just when we're watching a video.  So, yes, I stitch because I am not patient, and it makes me happy.