Rainy day report
Well vicarious food-lovers, I hate to disappoint, but Danko plans were derailed as one sister-in-law was suffering stomach sickness on the day of The Big Feed. And as the birthday guest of honor, her absence would have made for a less-than-celebratory fete. However, tonight we're venturing out for Birthday Celebration Redux, this time to Waterbar--a fitting choice since water reigns (sorry) in our collective consciousness these days.
In other news, I'm learning a lot about bamboo lately. And making lots of gratuitous, lame jokes about wanting to avoid being bamboozled. You see, we're planning to plant a "screen" of bamboo to block our view into the neighbor's nasty yard, and wow. Who knew there were so many varieties and details to figure out. In any case, the research is leading me to lovely places like nearby Green Gulch Zen Center, which I've always wanted to visit, but haven't had a reason, save passing en route to The Pelican Inn. I suppose having a "reason" to do anything Zen is counter to the idea, but while hunting for bamboo today, I had a Zen moment of my own at the good old local garden center. I was searching the grounds for bamboo by myself in the rain, realizing there was none to be found when I heard a curious sound following me--an ethereal, enchanting little clopping sound I couldn't place. It became so hypnotic, I turned to locate it and followed its sound through the palm fronds and hanging vines. As I came upon it, I discovered it was the music from simple windchimes made of--what else--bamboo. Quelle serendipitous serenade! While I was unable to find what I wanted, I forgot my intent and found myself caught in the moment, following my senses and my curiosity. And they led me right to what I'd been seeking--though in another form. And one, I might add, that gave me a disproportionate amount of happiness just in its unexpectedness. Needless to say, said chimes are now doing their thing in the garden and giving me no end of Zen delight. Every time the wind picks up I run over and open the door so I can hear their unusual, soothing sound.
And with that my pretties, I'm off for a lie-down before our excursion to what will surely be a less-than-Zen evening in a raucous new hotspot downtown. Details demain et au revoir pour la minute.
In other news, I'm learning a lot about bamboo lately. And making lots of gratuitous, lame jokes about wanting to avoid being bamboozled. You see, we're planning to plant a "screen" of bamboo to block our view into the neighbor's nasty yard, and wow. Who knew there were so many varieties and details to figure out. In any case, the research is leading me to lovely places like nearby Green Gulch Zen Center, which I've always wanted to visit, but haven't had a reason, save passing en route to The Pelican Inn. I suppose having a "reason" to do anything Zen is counter to the idea, but while hunting for bamboo today, I had a Zen moment of my own at the good old local garden center. I was searching the grounds for bamboo by myself in the rain, realizing there was none to be found when I heard a curious sound following me--an ethereal, enchanting little clopping sound I couldn't place. It became so hypnotic, I turned to locate it and followed its sound through the palm fronds and hanging vines. As I came upon it, I discovered it was the music from simple windchimes made of--what else--bamboo. Quelle serendipitous serenade! While I was unable to find what I wanted, I forgot my intent and found myself caught in the moment, following my senses and my curiosity. And they led me right to what I'd been seeking--though in another form. And one, I might add, that gave me a disproportionate amount of happiness just in its unexpectedness. Needless to say, said chimes are now doing their thing in the garden and giving me no end of Zen delight. Every time the wind picks up I run over and open the door so I can hear their unusual, soothing sound.
And with that my pretties, I'm off for a lie-down before our excursion to what will surely be a less-than-Zen evening in a raucous new hotspot downtown. Details demain et au revoir pour la minute.
posted by jamie at 3:42 PM
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