Category: Life Is A Spell

Germany was pretty quick to blame Spanish cucumbers for the eColi breakout. The common currency Euro was intended to bolster Europe but it hasn’t worked out for all countries in the union. The ancient Juderia section of Cordoba is almost overrun with souvenir shops. The clash of civilization goes on.

In Rochester we have the historic High Falls area that must be over a hundred years old. Margaret Explosion played a gig there a few weeks ago. This morning we were a block from the train station in Cordoba, walking through a park when we came upon some Roman ruins from the first century.

Jews, Muslims and Christians all lived in harmony in Spain for a few centuries so Cordoba is extremely rich in history. La Mezquita, the largest mosque in the west, was built in the Jewish quarter on top of San Vincente Basílica which was built by the Visigoths as a Christian temple dedicated to martyrs. The Moors destroyed it in 785 but recent excavations have preserved portions that are now visible through holes cut in the floor of La Mezquita. The Spanish Inquisition expelled The Moors and in 1236 King Ferdinand III (also known as “El Santo”) consecrated the Cathedral which was built literally within the walls of the mosque, it’s ornate spires soaring through the ceiling. Mass has been celebrated here everyday since. It is all quite a spectacle.

We bought two eBooks for the iPad on travel in Spain, one by “Let’s Go” and one by “Lonely Planet.” One’s a little more backpacky with advice on how many people you can get in a room and the other is a bit ordinary so we consult both and mix the youth oriented tips with the conservative. We found a place in Sevilla that was described as grandmotherly in one book and funky in the other.

The proprietor told us the wifi (pronounced weefee) connection would not work in our room but it worked great if we sat in particular chair in the lobby. They have a wild contemporary portrait painting on the wall so I asked for advice in finding some galleries. He recommended the Alemeda de Hercules area so we headed off in that direction. The streets in Sevilla look like they were laid out by a spider so we walk a block and get our map out. The Sevilla map we have is from our last visit here. They were preparing for Cartuja, a worldwide Expo, so it might have been ’93 or so. An area with a big blue “P” on our map that once was a parking lot is now the site of one of Sevilla’s newest attractions, el Parasol Metropol and it was quite a sensation to stumble on it. It’s kind of like the metal jungle gym like thing they constructed in Manhattan Square Park in Rochester.

We found six golf balls near this hole when we scooted across the golf course but we still haven’t found one of the Polara balls we read about. They have an irregular dimple pattern and are sort of guaranteed to go straight so maybe thats why we haven’t found any of them. They are technically illegal but that shouldn’t stop a Durand duffer.

Naming rights are out of hand. Rochester’s soccer stadium is now called “Sahlen’s Stadium”, named after a Buffalo hot dog maker, and last night our local Women’s Professional soccer team played “magicJack,” formerly the Washington Freedom. Most teams in the league have the city’s name attached to their moniker like Boston, Philadelphia and Atlanta this team is simply called “magicJack” just like they spell the usb phone device that lets you make free internet calls for twenty dollars a year.

Last night was a golden opportunity to see some of world’s best women soccer players. Local favorite Abby Wambach plays for magicJack and so does Hope solo and Shannon Boxx. All three were starters in the 2007 World Cup and six players from this team will be going to Germany to play for the US in June’s Cup. But Rochester has the the best player in the world on their team and we couldn’t take our eyes off her last night. Marta will of course be playing for Brazil next month but right now she is working her magic in downtown Rochester.

It’s been too rainy for golf so I only found one ball when we cut across the course today .

The Little Theater Café was SRO last night for the 45 Release Party. Rick McRea from Watkins & the Rapiers sat in on trombone and Jack Schaefer, who plays on the 45 was there with his bass clarinet so with Peggi’s soprano sax we had a three horns last night. And Dr. Fred Marshall sat in on piano so it was a Margaret Explosion big band without charts. We headed into some unchartered waters.

I totally spaced out my dentist appointment this morning and was sitting out on our porch in my pjs when they called to see where I was. I ran into my mom when I finally got there. She was having the same work done as I was. I remember my mom taking us all (six kids because my youngest sister wasn’t born yet) at the same time to our old dentist on the sixth floor of the Medical Arts Building downtown. This guy smoked cigarettes in the office, talked baseball non stop and didn’t use Novocain. He’d say’ “Hang on tight.” I made plans with my mom to hook up for dinner. My dad ordered a fried baloney sandwich with onions. I haven’t had one of those in years.

It was a lot more fun wondering whether Donald Trump would run than it is to know that he won’t. I like uncertainty. I feel trapped when things get planned out. You can hardly speculate anymore. The right answer is just a google away. I love the conjecture that goes on late at night while sitting around with with friends. What group performed some old song or the best way to boil an egg.

I made a few soft boiled eggs this morning. I like wrapping a piece of dry toast around them and eating them like a sandwich so I don’t want them too runny. I usually bring them to a boil, take them off the stove and rinse them in cold water. Sometimes they pop right out of the shell and other times the shell is stuck to the egg. It might take me ten minutes to pick the the tiny pieces off the egg. I’m sure I could search for the “best way to peel an egg.” There’s probably a video on YouTube. But I’d rather stew about this.

All day yesterday we thought we’d get out for a walk when it stopped raining but it never did stop. We could have put our slickers on but we stayed in and made a fire. The neighbors met on Saturday to open the pool for the season. One couple couldn’t make it because their daughter was making her First Communion. The water was green but not as soupy as it was last year. We stopped down to look at it this morning and it is already getting clearer. The water temperature is 57 degrees so I don’t think we’ll be going in soon. We went to Maine one summer and were there in warmest part of the summer yet the ocean was only 55 degrees. We could only stay in for a few minutes without getting numb.

Our friend and neighbor, Rick, bought his wife, Monica, a dedication plaque, the kind they hang on trees in the park, for their their twenty fifth wedding anniversary. They didn’t tell us they did this but we found it. We are the type of people who look at those little tags on the trees in the park. Most have no dedication at all just the Latin name for the species. One day we walked home chanting Cercis Chinensis over and over so we wouldn’t forget to look it up. Turns out it is a redbud. They’re in bloom now, beautiful small purple flowers lining the branches of the tree. Rick and Monica’s tag is on a yellow magnolia and it too is in full bloom. It is one of the last magnolias to blossom. Their tag also includes this e.e. cummings poem.

We’re headed over to their house tonight to watch the Bernardo Bertolucci film, “Sheltering Sky”. It’s based on a Paul Bowles book and he narrates the movie.

With the trees bustin’ out all over and taking the spotlight the lowly Mayflower gets could easily get overlooked but I’m not gonna let that happen. My first first pointed this plant out to us on one of our first walks in the nearby woods. It doesn’t need much light and seems but thrives now before the trees fill in. It pops out early in May and has only one leaf which is pointed proudly at the sun in the south. Later in the year it develops two more leaves and a delicate white flower. I thought maybe our friend Shelley would have drawn this plant in online “Year In The Woods” journal but I didn’t see it in her May entry.

Seems impossible that there are only three more Wednesdays left at the Little. We won’t be back there until September. Last week we had a piano player sit in and things got a little frantic but things like that happen when you throw everything to the wind. As much as we hated it some people loved it. Which brings up the question. Who are we trying to please? Ourselves or the audience? I know which side I come down on.

Our friend John woke up in that lightning storm that we had early Wednesday morning. He took some photos and we looked at them on my computer last night. He never got a lightning bolt or anything but the purple trees looked pretty psychedelic. I was stuck by a few things. The date on the photo is about four years old and its probably the oldest date that his camera’s software would let him set if he ever found his way to the settings. And secondly, every photo he has ever taken with that camera probably has this same date on it.

I have been cruising down Culver Road for most of my life and I never get tired of it. Sometimes its magical like this Sunday when we drove in to hear Bach’s “St. John’s Passion.” We had an Italian radio show on as we cruised by Dixon Apartments, Dentico’s and Palermo’s Deli. The sky was cloudy but promising.

It’s grey and misty and the ground is impossibly green. I’ve been watching a robin on our front lawn peck away at the earth maybe a hundred times or so before coming up with a big juicy worm.