Seeing that I've blogged my protein shake and tortilla recipes, I might as well blog my bean recipe. They're really simple and probably don't need posting but what the hell, I havn't posted anything this month any way.
The secret to great beans is all in the pot or jarro, as I learned it. These are traditional Mexican clay cooking pots found, all through out Mexico I'm sure. I found mine at Juan's Fruit Stand in Raymondville, Texas on Hwy 77. This is the one fruit stand I usually stop at on the way home after my annual run for the border to San Juan, Texas, my mother was with me and she spotted the pot immediately. She's had hers since before I was born and bought it in Tijuana, Mexico when she was a navy wife in San Diego where I was born. Something about that jarro just gives the beans flavor and substance and I don't know what that makes them great.
Beans can be boiled in any container that will hold water- aluminum, steel, cast iron, microwavable plastic, whatever holds boiling water and beans together. But they just won't taste as good if not made up in a jarro. Until I bought one, I used an aluminum pot and it worked out OK but the flavor was just missing something.
It's really simple-first take dried pinto beans, about a third of the bag, depends on how many people you're feeding, and pick out any stones or rocks that may have escaped the factory packing process, then rinse the beans in cold water in a collander. Now soak the rinsed beans for an hour in boiling hot water or overnight in cold water, until they are soft. This isn't absolutely necessary, but soft soaked beans cook faster than dry, straight out of the bag, unsoaked beans.
Boil up water in the pot, how much water depends upon how many beans are in the pot, just enough to cover over the beans a little, about an inch or so over the beans. I boil up water in my tea kettle separately then add it to the beans in the pot, this speeds up the process a bit. Add salt and pepper to taste, except for my tortillas, rice, and beans, I hardly ever use salt in my cooking and don't add salt to my food - healthier living and all that good shit.
Now here is the simple secret and magic which goes into really great beans - add in whatever you want. I usually through in garlic powder or fresh garlic but not both together. I also like basil. There really is no limit to what one can do here. As the water begins to boil, turn down the heat until they just simmer. Cover them up and let them slowly simmer, turning them with a spoon frequently. This is the point one can add onion or sausage or tomatoes, or whatever. DON'T STORE BEANS COOKED WITH ONION BECAUSE THEY DON'T KEEP AS LONG. BEANS COOKED WITH OINION HAVE TO BE EATEN IMMEDIATELY! They are done when they are soft and pink and the house is filled with the aroma of fresh cooked beans. CHECK AND TASTE TEST FREQUENTLY.
As I wrote earlier, there is no limit as to what one can add, just use your imagination and personal taste. I prefer just salt, pepper, garlic, onion, and tomatoe; maybe even basil and sometimes sausage or bacon. Onion I usually add later on because something about onion makes them spoil faster. I like jalapenos also, but my wife and children don't, I'll add them separately.
Now about cooking with a jarro, every new jarro has to be thoroughly cleaned and cured before cooking with. Cleaning is simple, just hot soap and water. Curing involves rubbing cooking oil inside the jarro then filling it with water and boiling the water. This completes the curing process and the jarro is now ready for use.
All jarros vary in size and may or may not sit well atop a gas burner, to remedy this, place a small skillet or griddle or grill or pan or whatever over the burner to hold the jarro. Mine just barely sits on the burner so I have a cast iron sauce pan I seat the jarro in and place it upon the burner. My mother uses a cast iron comal. It doesn't make a difference so long as the jarro doesn't spill when cooking the beans.
Jarros just aren't for beans, one can cook rice, meat, soups, stews, almost anything one would use a pot for cooking of boiling in. It's just traditional earthen cookware, a bit more fragile than cast iron or aluminum or stainless steel or copper or pyrex or plastic, but it does the same and has been around for thousands of years longer. Food cooked and stored in traditional earthware has a unique flavor and taste. I'm certain all cultures have traditional cookware which gives that culture's food and cooking it's unique flavor.
Besides a jarro, I refuse to do without a cast iron comal, skillets, or a wok. Whoever invented the wok was just a pure genius, you can do almost anything with a wok, cooks on electric and gas stoves, light, easy to care for, can be used as a skillet or a pot, just pure and simple genius. They come in aluminum, stainless steel and cast iron. My wife threw mine out after the cover was lost and now I have to get another one. What I really love about the wok is oil and grease gravitates to the center of the wok as one cooks meat, just scoot the meat up to the edges and spoon out the artery-clogging, life-taking, fat-adding, cholesterol-raising, soon to make my wife a widow if her driving doesn't do it first, drippings out as the meat cooks.
There you have it, my beans recipe. It's not a lot and it's real simple, but that's the beauty of it. The secret and magic ingredient is your imagination. Well, maybe the jarro is the secret ingredient, who really knows? I just know my beans are great.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Monday, November 06, 2006
Personal Recipes II
What kind of a Mexican uses a written recipe to make tortillas? Aren't our mothers, tias, and grandmothers supposed to teach us this since we were knee high? I'll bet my grandmothers are rolling in their graves as I type this, at least I waited until after Dia Del Los Meurtos. I guess I'm doing this for posterity or because my daughters are being real hard headed right now and one day, after I'm dead and gone, they'll have something to refer to when they get the hankering for fresh homemade flour tortillas or if they should think about their father. This is my sister's recipe, I'm sure she learned it from our mother. It was our mother who handed the recipe to me! Mom, what were you thinking! Did you think your son forgot? Was I drinking? I've known how to make fresh homemade flour tortillas since I left home but I can't remember when was the last time I made them. Anyway, the recipe feeds a family of five real easy and they did come out great. The only thing I can think of which I feel is indispensible and critical to this recipe, but can probably be substituted, is a cast iron comal. Plancha is spanish for griddle as defined in the Merriam Webster English-Spanish, Spanish-English dictionary but in my mother's house and in my grandmother's, we called it a comal. I thought a plancha was the iron we used to iron our clothes?A large cast iron skillet may work, I havn't tried. I do have an aluminum comal I bought in Tijuana, Mexico when I was in the navy, a lifetime ago it seems, but it doesn't cook as well as good old fashioned, tried and true cast iron. No wonder, it seems, every good Mexcan wife/mother has cast iron cookware in her kitchen. Cast iron cooks great, not a weapon of opportunity when trying to kill their husbands/sons. Cast iron skillets do make great shields when parrying off butcher knife attacks from pissed off wives/girlfriends/mistresses though; two are better than one, one in each hand and just lead her a little. Mind your footwork. Enough personal relationship bullshit, I transcribe the recipe here as I find it on the little 3X5 inch index card it's on, parenthesis are my own commentary/additions.
"Always pray first so God can bless your fruit Amen. "( I pray everyday, it's good for you.)
Preheat hot plate med heat. ( I aways preheat the comal on high, then turn the heat down. This is why I'm always kicking my girls out of the kitchen, unless I'm trying to teach them how to cook.)
Full Recipe 7 3/4 - 8 cups all purpose floor (not the self rising rising type, they'll come out hard, not soft)
1/2 tablespoon baking powder ( I prefer little clabber girl brand )
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 - 3/4 cup crisco
2 1/4 (cups) or so hot water
Blend flour, baking powder, salt. Then add crisco. Work in and then add hot water kneading to form dough. Make fist size balls( I make little palm size balls, they roll out to the size of a plate) let stand so it will rise. Around 5-10 minutes. Put a clothe over the balls. Roll out flat, place on hot plate, when done on first side turn to other side when done turn one time. Hints : sift flour before you start to blend and sift together so you(r) tortillas can come out fluffy and real soft(real important). Reason you turn them only two times, they will not get hard when cooled down. Place down on hot plate when cooked turn to other side, when cooked turn one last time(just pay attention to what you're doing so they don't burn and mind the heat
.). They are done.
half recipe - 4 cups flour
1/4 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup crisco
1 1/4 cup or so hot water.
Anyway there you have it, fresh homemade flour tortillas to fatten up skinny children, impress anglo friends/spouses, and so you can also make - BUENELLOS! Buenellos are simply fried tortillas with cinnamon and sugar sprinkled all over them, great treat for around the holidays and traditionally for good luck at New Years. Simply roll out the tortilla and instead of cooking them on a comal, fry it up in hot oil. Bon Apetit!
"Always pray first so God can bless your fruit Amen. "( I pray everyday, it's good for you.)
Preheat hot plate med heat. ( I aways preheat the comal on high, then turn the heat down. This is why I'm always kicking my girls out of the kitchen, unless I'm trying to teach them how to cook.)
Full Recipe 7 3/4 - 8 cups all purpose floor (not the self rising rising type, they'll come out hard, not soft)
1/2 tablespoon baking powder ( I prefer little clabber girl brand )
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 - 3/4 cup crisco
2 1/4 (cups) or so hot water
Blend flour, baking powder, salt. Then add crisco. Work in and then add hot water kneading to form dough. Make fist size balls( I make little palm size balls, they roll out to the size of a plate) let stand so it will rise. Around 5-10 minutes. Put a clothe over the balls. Roll out flat, place on hot plate, when done on first side turn to other side when done turn one time. Hints : sift flour before you start to blend and sift together so you(r) tortillas can come out fluffy and real soft(real important). Reason you turn them only two times, they will not get hard when cooled down. Place down on hot plate when cooked turn to other side, when cooked turn one last time(just pay attention to what you're doing so they don't burn and mind the heat
.). They are done.
half recipe - 4 cups flour
1/4 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup crisco
1 1/4 cup or so hot water.
Anyway there you have it, fresh homemade flour tortillas to fatten up skinny children, impress anglo friends/spouses, and so you can also make - BUENELLOS! Buenellos are simply fried tortillas with cinnamon and sugar sprinkled all over them, great treat for around the holidays and traditionally for good luck at New Years. Simply roll out the tortilla and instead of cooking them on a comal, fry it up in hot oil. Bon Apetit!
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Is It Just Me or Is The House Shaking A Lot More When The Train Passes By Lately
We live in a small two bedroom, one bath, very old house situated on a my own itty bitty piece of Texas between the railroad tracks and Hwy 6 in beautiful vibrant Hitchcock. Some time early this year, the railroad laid new track and it seems to me that the trains have been flying up and down the new track a whole lot faster. I grew up in the house next door and even lived in this one until my parents were divorced. These properties were my grandfather's and I remember the passing train and the sight, sounds and shakes as one of my earliest memories.
In 1986 I moved into this house and in 1989, 1990 or so my brother moved in and we shared this house up until I married in December 1991 so I am intimately familiar with the passing train; it's a part of my surroundings as the grass is green and the sky is blue and the rain is wet. I'm so used to it, a passing train won't wake me at night but I can distinctly hear a car stopping in my driveway or the gate latch clinking as someone opens it. Go figure.
My big deal is, I sit in my house or lay on my bed and as the train passes my house seems to shimmy and shake a lot more than what I'm used to. I even went outside to see if there was any other conceivable cause and as I looked at the train flying by it seemed to actually blur a little. I had difficulty focusing on the stenciling on the sides of the train cars. Maybe it's just my vision growing older as I knock on 40 years old? I remember being able to actually focus somewhat clear on the train car stenciling. I remember focusing on the individual train cars but they just seem to blur now. Sure hope the shaking isn't causing any structural damage to my little house. It's the only home I have.
My grandmother used to say that if the trains were carrying a particularly heavy load, the house would shake a lot more than usual. No one else has even mentioned the increased shaking to me in casual conversations, I havn't mentioned it to anyone either. I don't won't to come off as some fruitcake with ultra sensitive sensations or conspiracy theory material or such.
I am knocking on 40 years old this next year and I have noticed changes in my near vision. I notice if I take my glasses off and read my watchface the numbers are more clear. I don't feel any headaches or eye pain or see any floaters or any other significant change, but I probably have been holding my reading material closer as I read. I chalk it up to computer screen eye strain. As I type this I am not wearing glasses and can see the screen quite clear.
Still, normal changes in vision shouldn't make the house shimmy and shake as it does. Do people become more sensitive to movement as we grow older? Just what the hell is going on here! Trains flying down the rairoad tracks at almost light speed, my house shimmying and shaking like two elephants mating in the jungle and my vision starting to go on me. Must be logging off now and get ready for work and such and beside s, my wife and daughters just walked in the door so there goes my peace and quiet. The sooner I get on the road to work, the sooner I'll get a semblence of peace and quiet, maybe even read a book or play some chess.
In 1986 I moved into this house and in 1989, 1990 or so my brother moved in and we shared this house up until I married in December 1991 so I am intimately familiar with the passing train; it's a part of my surroundings as the grass is green and the sky is blue and the rain is wet. I'm so used to it, a passing train won't wake me at night but I can distinctly hear a car stopping in my driveway or the gate latch clinking as someone opens it. Go figure.
My big deal is, I sit in my house or lay on my bed and as the train passes my house seems to shimmy and shake a lot more than what I'm used to. I even went outside to see if there was any other conceivable cause and as I looked at the train flying by it seemed to actually blur a little. I had difficulty focusing on the stenciling on the sides of the train cars. Maybe it's just my vision growing older as I knock on 40 years old? I remember being able to actually focus somewhat clear on the train car stenciling. I remember focusing on the individual train cars but they just seem to blur now. Sure hope the shaking isn't causing any structural damage to my little house. It's the only home I have.
My grandmother used to say that if the trains were carrying a particularly heavy load, the house would shake a lot more than usual. No one else has even mentioned the increased shaking to me in casual conversations, I havn't mentioned it to anyone either. I don't won't to come off as some fruitcake with ultra sensitive sensations or conspiracy theory material or such.
I am knocking on 40 years old this next year and I have noticed changes in my near vision. I notice if I take my glasses off and read my watchface the numbers are more clear. I don't feel any headaches or eye pain or see any floaters or any other significant change, but I probably have been holding my reading material closer as I read. I chalk it up to computer screen eye strain. As I type this I am not wearing glasses and can see the screen quite clear.
Still, normal changes in vision shouldn't make the house shimmy and shake as it does. Do people become more sensitive to movement as we grow older? Just what the hell is going on here! Trains flying down the rairoad tracks at almost light speed, my house shimmying and shaking like two elephants mating in the jungle and my vision starting to go on me. Must be logging off now and get ready for work and such and beside s, my wife and daughters just walked in the door so there goes my peace and quiet. The sooner I get on the road to work, the sooner I'll get a semblence of peace and quiet, maybe even read a book or play some chess.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Still More Ramblings and Musings and Such
It's September and, at least, it isn't as hot anymore. Rainy morning today, God knows we need it, my garden needs it. I really should get out there and put out some plant food. I'll get to it eventually.
Tired, I just came home from work, same old bullshit. There are nights when I wonder why I'm still hanging around there. Maybe it's time for me to go find a new job. Change is good.
Taekwondo goes along well, it's not fun anymore, not with my family anyway. I'm ready to kick it up a notch. I'm ready to advance my training in a way I know my wife wants nothing to do with and my children may or may not be able to keep up. I shouldn't under estimate their abilities but they're aren't showing me any commitment or dedication to the sport. Certainly not voicing any desire to kick it up a notch. Maybe I need to be a bit more patient. I don't see myself quiting martial arts in any form or fashion now and I only wish I had done this earlier in life. Better late than never and Rome wasn't built in a day, so I remain patient with my training and my family. I don't push them too much. I know them well enough.
When I go to class with my wife she complains too much and is always making some remark or other. The woman doesn't know when to remain silent. I just don't feel like showing up to a class with children and adults mixed and the adults only class clashes with my work schedule. Too bad they won't fire up the do jhong at 0700 or so 7 days a week. That would be great. Instead they open up at 1400, right in the middle of my sleep time. Sometimes they have class at lunchtime, but once again that's right in the middle of my sleep time. It's hell trying to juggle working nights when the rest of the world works on an opposite shift. These people shut down on Sundays too, that's a damn shame, and the last class is usually on or about 1900 or so. If they would fire up at 0700, I could be their almost every morning, If they would open up 7 days a week, that would be grand too. But they have lives too I suppose.
Taekwondo isn't one of those things one can learn exclusively from a book of watching a DVD. It requires a living breathing trained and experienced human being in a proper setting with proper tools. So I do what I can when I can and I'm constantly reassured by my instructors that I am doing well.
I'm going to pour myself a glass of wine and take a hot shower and relax. Maybe even get some leisure reading done. I know I need to balance the checkbook and get some gas in the truck. If I'm lucky I might even get laid or at least a blow job!
Tired, I just came home from work, same old bullshit. There are nights when I wonder why I'm still hanging around there. Maybe it's time for me to go find a new job. Change is good.
Taekwondo goes along well, it's not fun anymore, not with my family anyway. I'm ready to kick it up a notch. I'm ready to advance my training in a way I know my wife wants nothing to do with and my children may or may not be able to keep up. I shouldn't under estimate their abilities but they're aren't showing me any commitment or dedication to the sport. Certainly not voicing any desire to kick it up a notch. Maybe I need to be a bit more patient. I don't see myself quiting martial arts in any form or fashion now and I only wish I had done this earlier in life. Better late than never and Rome wasn't built in a day, so I remain patient with my training and my family. I don't push them too much. I know them well enough.
When I go to class with my wife she complains too much and is always making some remark or other. The woman doesn't know when to remain silent. I just don't feel like showing up to a class with children and adults mixed and the adults only class clashes with my work schedule. Too bad they won't fire up the do jhong at 0700 or so 7 days a week. That would be great. Instead they open up at 1400, right in the middle of my sleep time. Sometimes they have class at lunchtime, but once again that's right in the middle of my sleep time. It's hell trying to juggle working nights when the rest of the world works on an opposite shift. These people shut down on Sundays too, that's a damn shame, and the last class is usually on or about 1900 or so. If they would fire up at 0700, I could be their almost every morning, If they would open up 7 days a week, that would be grand too. But they have lives too I suppose.
Taekwondo isn't one of those things one can learn exclusively from a book of watching a DVD. It requires a living breathing trained and experienced human being in a proper setting with proper tools. So I do what I can when I can and I'm constantly reassured by my instructors that I am doing well.
I'm going to pour myself a glass of wine and take a hot shower and relax. Maybe even get some leisure reading done. I know I need to balance the checkbook and get some gas in the truck. If I'm lucky I might even get laid or at least a blow job!
Monday, August 28, 2006
More Ramblings and Musings and Such
It's August and in southeast Texas that means humid, and hot and shitty all day long and the heat and shittiness continues into the evening hours. It just hangs there in the Texas air like a wet blanket soaked in hot water. Temps might just be in the 90's but with the heat index it feels like the 100's. The heat outside actually makes my skin feel like it's frying up in a pan sort of the way bacon fries up in a skillet. It's just plain and simple hot and shitty, good thing I'm Mexican; not too many others would be able to tolerate this.
Yesterday I took some time for me and took the bicycle up to the museum district in Houston. There are quite a few free musums like the Menil collection and the Contemporary Arts museum all within a few blocks radius of each other. The real meat of this little trip were the three chapels I like to visit, the Rothko chapel, the Byzantine frescoes chapel, and the chapel of St. Basil on the UST campus. The chapel of St. Basil even has a nice outdoor labrynith surrounded by rose gardens and crowned with three water fountains right next to it. It's a beautiful and prayerful oasis in the middle of Houston's hurly burly and always rushing city life. The chapel of St. Basil is topped off with a beautiful gold dome reminiscent of the domes in Jerusalem and the middle east. The exterior reiminds one of a white tent with the entrance folded back like the housing for the Ark of the Covenant must have been as the Israelites roamed in the desert during the exodus.
Inside, is a single cross shaped blue glass window on the western facing wall and, when the setting sun strikes the glass, an image of the cross is projected onto the eastern wall. It's a Roman Catholic university and this chapel has the Stations of the Cross cut into the wall, not mounted of carved, but cut into the wall so that as the light hits the individual stations the shadows form the images of Christ in His Passion. I've never seen anything like this before in any church I've visited. I've seen some beautiful carved marble Stations of the Cross and even life sized cast bronze ones at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Virgen Of San Juan in San Juan, Texas on a trail outdoors, but these are beautiful and all hidden away in a little chapel of a university in Houston, Texas. What other spiritual treasures this city must have?
The Rothko chapel, an all faiths chapel right next door to the UST campus and only a short walk away. This very simple and spiritual place has no affiliation with any one organized religion and yet is connected to the roots of all them. Want to feel the presence of God, go there. Just go in and sit silently as the Psalm says,"Be still and know that I am God." No images, no music, no reminders of any one faith yet all faith is there. When I enter into the place all I can initially hear is the roar of my spirit inside. The roar of everything else in my life connected to me. Then, like muddied water left to sit still, it eventually clears. My spirit finds a certain peace and calmness I'll only find when I'm alone in a church. It's eerie at first, we're not used to such silence, yet our spirits cry out for it. It's the space and the silence and the spiritual simplicity which makes this place appeal to me. Brought my wife there once and the first words out of her mouth were "How do you worship in here?"; this from a woman who reads her Bible daily, even twice daily.
Next door and across the street is the Byzantine frescoes chapel, this is an Eastern Orthydox Chapel I believe also designed by Mark Rothko, the artist who designed the aforementioned Rothko chapel. The jewel in the crown of this beautiful tiny place of prayer are the ancient frescoes of the angels and saints rescued from a chapel in Cyprus. These wonderful priceless masterpieces must be at least a thousand years old are beautifully restored. I'll arch my neck straight up and admire the work for so long my neck will begin to ache. The interior is laid out in the shape of a cross and is of black basalt or other stone, so watch as you step. It is dark inside and the frescoes in the ceiling seem to be the only light yet there are candles burning. Outside is a simple meditation garden surrounded by a high concrete wall which seems to block out the city outside. There is a small fountain flowing which actually runs under the chapel and out front into a pool. The simple meditative space has a single oak tree growing in the center. I love visiting here and on this trip, I took shelter here inside when a sudden thunderstorm blew up and the rain and the lightening fell. No sense in getting killed just to get some "me time" out unprotected on a bicycle. How the hell am I going to explain that to my wife?
I topped this trip off with a quick trip to the Contemporary Arts museum before heading home. This is something I need to get into to make a buck. How does one get together a bunch of junk and throw it together on the floor and call it art worthy to have a 250lb guard watch me as I admire it? I visit here and enjoy the art but mostly I'll enjoy watching the people who come in here and look at the art. They could call themselves modern art masterpieces.
The real sense of accomplishment for today was just taking some bamboo trimmings from outside the Rothko chapel and a trimming from an outdoor sculpture garden at a nearby art museum and planting them out. I've always admired bamboo and have wanted some in my garden for some time now. One has to be careful with this stuff because it's actually a grass and can get out of control if not tended to. It should make a nice screen in my backyard and maybe I'll plant some besides the railroad tracks to screen out the unsightly train. Only God knows and more to follow about that later.
Yesterday I took some time for me and took the bicycle up to the museum district in Houston. There are quite a few free musums like the Menil collection and the Contemporary Arts museum all within a few blocks radius of each other. The real meat of this little trip were the three chapels I like to visit, the Rothko chapel, the Byzantine frescoes chapel, and the chapel of St. Basil on the UST campus. The chapel of St. Basil even has a nice outdoor labrynith surrounded by rose gardens and crowned with three water fountains right next to it. It's a beautiful and prayerful oasis in the middle of Houston's hurly burly and always rushing city life. The chapel of St. Basil is topped off with a beautiful gold dome reminiscent of the domes in Jerusalem and the middle east. The exterior reiminds one of a white tent with the entrance folded back like the housing for the Ark of the Covenant must have been as the Israelites roamed in the desert during the exodus.
Inside, is a single cross shaped blue glass window on the western facing wall and, when the setting sun strikes the glass, an image of the cross is projected onto the eastern wall. It's a Roman Catholic university and this chapel has the Stations of the Cross cut into the wall, not mounted of carved, but cut into the wall so that as the light hits the individual stations the shadows form the images of Christ in His Passion. I've never seen anything like this before in any church I've visited. I've seen some beautiful carved marble Stations of the Cross and even life sized cast bronze ones at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Virgen Of San Juan in San Juan, Texas on a trail outdoors, but these are beautiful and all hidden away in a little chapel of a university in Houston, Texas. What other spiritual treasures this city must have?
The Rothko chapel, an all faiths chapel right next door to the UST campus and only a short walk away. This very simple and spiritual place has no affiliation with any one organized religion and yet is connected to the roots of all them. Want to feel the presence of God, go there. Just go in and sit silently as the Psalm says,"Be still and know that I am God." No images, no music, no reminders of any one faith yet all faith is there. When I enter into the place all I can initially hear is the roar of my spirit inside. The roar of everything else in my life connected to me. Then, like muddied water left to sit still, it eventually clears. My spirit finds a certain peace and calmness I'll only find when I'm alone in a church. It's eerie at first, we're not used to such silence, yet our spirits cry out for it. It's the space and the silence and the spiritual simplicity which makes this place appeal to me. Brought my wife there once and the first words out of her mouth were "How do you worship in here?"; this from a woman who reads her Bible daily, even twice daily.
Next door and across the street is the Byzantine frescoes chapel, this is an Eastern Orthydox Chapel I believe also designed by Mark Rothko, the artist who designed the aforementioned Rothko chapel. The jewel in the crown of this beautiful tiny place of prayer are the ancient frescoes of the angels and saints rescued from a chapel in Cyprus. These wonderful priceless masterpieces must be at least a thousand years old are beautifully restored. I'll arch my neck straight up and admire the work for so long my neck will begin to ache. The interior is laid out in the shape of a cross and is of black basalt or other stone, so watch as you step. It is dark inside and the frescoes in the ceiling seem to be the only light yet there are candles burning. Outside is a simple meditation garden surrounded by a high concrete wall which seems to block out the city outside. There is a small fountain flowing which actually runs under the chapel and out front into a pool. The simple meditative space has a single oak tree growing in the center. I love visiting here and on this trip, I took shelter here inside when a sudden thunderstorm blew up and the rain and the lightening fell. No sense in getting killed just to get some "me time" out unprotected on a bicycle. How the hell am I going to explain that to my wife?
I topped this trip off with a quick trip to the Contemporary Arts museum before heading home. This is something I need to get into to make a buck. How does one get together a bunch of junk and throw it together on the floor and call it art worthy to have a 250lb guard watch me as I admire it? I visit here and enjoy the art but mostly I'll enjoy watching the people who come in here and look at the art. They could call themselves modern art masterpieces.
The real sense of accomplishment for today was just taking some bamboo trimmings from outside the Rothko chapel and a trimming from an outdoor sculpture garden at a nearby art museum and planting them out. I've always admired bamboo and have wanted some in my garden for some time now. One has to be careful with this stuff because it's actually a grass and can get out of control if not tended to. It should make a nice screen in my backyard and maybe I'll plant some besides the railroad tracks to screen out the unsightly train. Only God knows and more to follow about that later.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
My First Real Poetry Reading!
Went to my first real poetry reading last week. I'm not talking about the Right Thoughts Poetry Group which meets at Rosenberg Library in Galveston, I'm talking about a group of people from all walks of life who meet in a coffee shop with jazz music in the background, low light, and so many people packing the place full that one has to stand up because all the seats are taken. It was great, no holds barred, real poetry like something out of a Jack Kerouac novel.
It was at the Y'a Bon Village coffee house in the really poor part of town in Galveston, we're talking just across the street from public housing projects, drug dealers and prostitutes on the corners, the part of Galveston one doesn't see most other locals and certainly no tourists. It was great, I didn't want to leave my truck parked out on the street for fear that someone was going to break into it. The coffee house is built into what was once a crack house before it was gutted and reborn into this great little island of beat and pure expression and everyone getting along. No drugs, no alcohol, no one acting out, just everyone meeting to share their poetry.
We each had three minutes at the mike and the lights were low and one felt the energy from the crowd radiating up toward the poet and their work. Fingers were snapped as certain passages met with approval and the applause came up like a wave when the croud really was pleased. Each of us reciting was introduced to a hearty " bring him up, bring him up!" chanted from the crowd. Tha a/c was overworked with so many people in such a small space and the sweat poured from me. I didn't want it to end.
I stepped up to the mike and read three of mine. The first one I read was "Before I was Born" followed by "Now", which was well received. I wrapped up with "Poetry In Motion", which received the best response. I must admit I was initially nervous, but once up there, old training took over and I feel I did well. Somethings one doesn't forget and public speaking with Mr. Martin in high school just flooded back. I'm sure to improve as I go to more of these.
One woman from Houston sang her poems and has two cd's out. Another young lady, with some obvious theatre training behind her, stepped up to the mike and literally acted out her poem. Hers was full of passion and power and she only recited one. Most of the young black men read their work to a hip hop beat. I don't care much for hip hop, but their message and work was amazing, many of these youngsters could rival any high paying popular act and their poetry was certainly better quality than what I've heard of modern hip hop on the radio.
At the end of the two hours or so I left with a new sense of life in me instilled by these poets and their poetry. I certainly have a new hunger for poetry as I havn't felt before. I can't wait to go back for the next one. Open mic poetry, it's great.
It was at the Y'a Bon Village coffee house in the really poor part of town in Galveston, we're talking just across the street from public housing projects, drug dealers and prostitutes on the corners, the part of Galveston one doesn't see most other locals and certainly no tourists. It was great, I didn't want to leave my truck parked out on the street for fear that someone was going to break into it. The coffee house is built into what was once a crack house before it was gutted and reborn into this great little island of beat and pure expression and everyone getting along. No drugs, no alcohol, no one acting out, just everyone meeting to share their poetry.
We each had three minutes at the mike and the lights were low and one felt the energy from the crowd radiating up toward the poet and their work. Fingers were snapped as certain passages met with approval and the applause came up like a wave when the croud really was pleased. Each of us reciting was introduced to a hearty " bring him up, bring him up!" chanted from the crowd. Tha a/c was overworked with so many people in such a small space and the sweat poured from me. I didn't want it to end.
I stepped up to the mike and read three of mine. The first one I read was "Before I was Born" followed by "Now", which was well received. I wrapped up with "Poetry In Motion", which received the best response. I must admit I was initially nervous, but once up there, old training took over and I feel I did well. Somethings one doesn't forget and public speaking with Mr. Martin in high school just flooded back. I'm sure to improve as I go to more of these.
One woman from Houston sang her poems and has two cd's out. Another young lady, with some obvious theatre training behind her, stepped up to the mike and literally acted out her poem. Hers was full of passion and power and she only recited one. Most of the young black men read their work to a hip hop beat. I don't care much for hip hop, but their message and work was amazing, many of these youngsters could rival any high paying popular act and their poetry was certainly better quality than what I've heard of modern hip hop on the radio.
At the end of the two hours or so I left with a new sense of life in me instilled by these poets and their poetry. I certainly have a new hunger for poetry as I havn't felt before. I can't wait to go back for the next one. Open mic poetry, it's great.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Personal Recipes I
Mike's Get Big and Ugly Protein Shake or Oh Shit, I'm Late For Work Again and No Time For A Full Meal Shake!
Ingredients: 1 whole frozen banana, (the almost perfect food).
1/4 cup strawberries, melon or any favorite fruit, also preferably frozen.
1 scoop soy protein, I use Advantage/EAS brand from wal mart - it's cheap and inexpensive.
1 heaping cup instant oatmeal, I use dollar general brand - it's real cheap and real inexpensive.
1/3 cup dry milk, fresh milk is too expensive and with three girls in my house the milk doesn't last long anyway.
1 (individuals choice of size) spoonful of honey, a good pure simple sugar and not refined.
1 container ( 6-8ozs.) low fat yogurt, optional, but the cultures are good for your GI tract and a good source of calcium.
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, supposed to be good for preventing diabetes ( so the herbalists and some research says).
water, 1-1 1/2 cups, depends upon how thick you want this concotion to be, use Hitchcock, Texas tap water - adds flavor.
Throw it all in a blender on high for about a minute and gulp it all down. Toss in the oatmeal as is from the container, don't concern yourself with cooking it, good source of fiber. Be sure to drink lots of water, 2-3L/day, it's good for you. I'm sure you can add whatever else to the mix to suit your personal taste, I usually follow up with a good strong cup of coffee. Bon appetit!
Ingredients: 1 whole frozen banana, (the almost perfect food).
1/4 cup strawberries, melon or any favorite fruit, also preferably frozen.
1 scoop soy protein, I use Advantage/EAS brand from wal mart - it's cheap and inexpensive.
1 heaping cup instant oatmeal, I use dollar general brand - it's real cheap and real inexpensive.
1/3 cup dry milk, fresh milk is too expensive and with three girls in my house the milk doesn't last long anyway.
1 (individuals choice of size) spoonful of honey, a good pure simple sugar and not refined.
1 container ( 6-8ozs.) low fat yogurt, optional, but the cultures are good for your GI tract and a good source of calcium.
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, supposed to be good for preventing diabetes ( so the herbalists and some research says).
water, 1-1 1/2 cups, depends upon how thick you want this concotion to be, use Hitchcock, Texas tap water - adds flavor.
Throw it all in a blender on high for about a minute and gulp it all down. Toss in the oatmeal as is from the container, don't concern yourself with cooking it, good source of fiber. Be sure to drink lots of water, 2-3L/day, it's good for you. I'm sure you can add whatever else to the mix to suit your personal taste, I usually follow up with a good strong cup of coffee. Bon appetit!
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Good Rum
It's June now and what have I been doing lately? Don't really give a shit right now, took the last of the bacardi gold rum, some pineapple juice, a few ice cubes , and let the blender do the rest. I am feeling no pain right now and am having to go back and correct all the typos as I key the keyboard and type this. At least I can still proof read .It's been a busy month with work, still a big shit hole, why do I stay there? Having a hard time getting rest, I sleep well enough, just don't feel rested. I don't know. Maybe I should write some more poetry? I think all I need is a good party, some down time, and a good workout. Maybe a three mile beach run is in order here? I'm having a hard time getting my shit together, some days are better than others, I think I wrote a poem to that effect? I know I wrote a pretty good one about my dick titled - I Love My Dick. I'm working on a sequel called - I Still Love My Dick, have some really great material but have been bogged down with writers block lately. Must be logging off now, hte rum is getting the best of me - no, just don't feel like blogging right now. More to follow later.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Sorry So Late
Just got back from a week long cruise to the westeren carribbean and in the hurly burly of getting ready for the cruise I havn't been paying much attention to my blog. Sorry about that, sports fans so here goes for the month of april!
It was certainly a busy one with a visit from my father and one of my cousins and a poetry reading which I missed and getting my purple belt in taekwondo and getting ready for this cruise. I really needed a vacation. Well, now I'm back and I still need a vacation but the reality is my wife and children and mother all had a great time, I got the chance to get away, and now it's back to buisness as usual. Now let's break this down.
My father came back home, he's from this part of Texas but has been living in New Mexico for the last few years now. It's the first time I've seen him in a couple of years and it's always great to see him. He looks well, has since shaved of the beard I've always remembered him with and is sporting a tattoo band over his bicep. What's with the tattoo, Dad, midlife crisis! Anyway we spent the day together, had lunch, cruised around Galveston island for a bit, and looking for a part for my truck. I remembered he used to drink beer so I bought a 12 pack, but neither he nor my brother touched a single one so I polished off the 12 pack myself. What's with these guys, does getting older and living apart make one not want to drink? I would of that a good father and sons drinking session would have been in order seeing how we havn't all been together in the same place for a long while. All the same, my father went to a ball game with my brother, saw his granddaughters and we spent some good quality time together. I only wish I could go to New Mexico to see him but I'm tied up with an upcoming cruise. Besides the logistics and money for a family of two adults and three children will have to leave that visit for another time. I do hope to go out there so my girls can see something of the mountains. I just want to see my Dad, he's a great guy.
We tested out for our purple belts but I brain farted midway through the form so I hope sahbumnim is merciful with me. Truth is my mind was on the cruise and the western carribbean and not on ATA taekwondo. We go back tommorrow and see what happens, maybe the trinkets I bought in Jamaica and on the ship will help? We should have waited for after the cruise to test but it would have been the same, you're either prepared for such a test or you're not. At the that particular time, taekwondo was not on my mind; but jamaican rum, sandy beaches, clear blue sea, ancient mayan ruins and shipboard antics were all I was thinking about.
The Write Thoughts Poetry group I'm with had an evening of poetry reading and a display of local Galveston island themed poetry but I had to work. I later saw the poem I had submitted on display before we left for the cruise. I hope it's still up when I get back there because I want a picture of it.
Now for the meat of the matter, a week long cruise to Jamaica, Grand Cayman island and Cozumel, Mexico! We went on the Conquest out of Galveston, my family and my mother. It's her first time out of the country except for little mexican border towns and it was my daughter's first time out on a cruise ship. It was the second time out for my wife and I. If anyone deserved a vacation they did, I just like to get away for a while and see new things.
It took us two days at sea just to get to Jamaica and it was a wonderful sailing, the food wasn't as good as the Raphsody of the Seas of the the Royal Carribbean line but they still feed you like a king and the service was great. The Conquest is a huge ship, much bigger than the Rhaphsody so you don't feel the sea as much, it's not as personable as a smaller ship. I'll take the sea for a more personable experience, but I digress. My wife and girls literally camped out poolside, my mother did too but I think she relaxed more than the rest of us and that's what counts. I worked out in the gym and ran laps on deck, if you've never lifted dumbbells over your head or run on a rolling deck at sea you really should at least once. Wonderful test of balance and coordination with 40lbs over your head.
I did get sick for the first time at sea, contracted a noro virus from somewhere. When one is among 2000 plus passengers and 1000 plus crew in the clos confines of a ship illness travels like wildfire. It doesn't matter how clean you try to be, when this fucker bites it bites hard and holds on tight for a day or two and makes your life miserable with diarrhea, nausea, aches and pains and such. It hit me overnight between Jamaica and Grand Cayman Island but I did not pay some five thousand dollars, weeks of preparation, and travel a thoussand miles or so just to let some bug keep me in my bed! No way, I motrined myself up to control the low grade fever, hydrated myself with lots of water, and grabbed the bull by the balls and made it get on the tender then on the beach and I did get ashore to Grand Cayman island! The american dollar doesn't go far in Grand Cayman, only about 68 cents or so on the dollar, so we just walked around the duty free shops and stayed close to the ship.
Same thing with Jamaica, my wife and mother were really put off with the locals around the pier so we just hung around the shops then came back on the ship. I really wanted to go into town and see the sights or hang out with the crew at Doctors Cave beach. We would have had to travel by bus and Jamaica can be a dangerous place but I felt we would have been fine sticking close to the the other passengers and crew going ashore but the wife and mother would have none of it. So we came back on board, so much for my first time on the beautiful island of Jamaica
Cozumel was a better experience, I paid 229 dollars for a tour of the Mayan ruins in Tulum. My wife and I were here the last time, I really wanted to come back and I wanted the girls to see something one only reads about in books or sees on the Discovery channel, it was just too damn expensive for everyone so I took the older two girls and my wife, mother, and youngest daughter went shopping in Cozumel. The ruins are a wonderful and spiritual place and I am always in awe of the Mayan culture and the beauty of the place. I just couldn't stay away and this time I had my children with me; it was perfect. More to come on that later on a whole other entry.
I didn't engage in too many ship board antics, went up to the adults only deck once to sunbathe but Dana didn't want to go, I did bring my own rum this time so I always had a full lflask with me when at poolside or anywhere else on deck. Read some, wrote some poetry, including a great one about the couple in the cabin next ours. Dana didn't want to go dancing so I took it upon myself to dance with the other drunks to Bob Marley music at the poolside, she danced some but only on the periphery of the rest of our merry band. The rest of the cruise I'll have to write about some other time.
My head is still rolling to the motion of the ship as I type this and we are back at home, thanks to God. The girls go back to school tomorrow, I have a yard to cut, and life goes on.
It was certainly a busy one with a visit from my father and one of my cousins and a poetry reading which I missed and getting my purple belt in taekwondo and getting ready for this cruise. I really needed a vacation. Well, now I'm back and I still need a vacation but the reality is my wife and children and mother all had a great time, I got the chance to get away, and now it's back to buisness as usual. Now let's break this down.
My father came back home, he's from this part of Texas but has been living in New Mexico for the last few years now. It's the first time I've seen him in a couple of years and it's always great to see him. He looks well, has since shaved of the beard I've always remembered him with and is sporting a tattoo band over his bicep. What's with the tattoo, Dad, midlife crisis! Anyway we spent the day together, had lunch, cruised around Galveston island for a bit, and looking for a part for my truck. I remembered he used to drink beer so I bought a 12 pack, but neither he nor my brother touched a single one so I polished off the 12 pack myself. What's with these guys, does getting older and living apart make one not want to drink? I would of that a good father and sons drinking session would have been in order seeing how we havn't all been together in the same place for a long while. All the same, my father went to a ball game with my brother, saw his granddaughters and we spent some good quality time together. I only wish I could go to New Mexico to see him but I'm tied up with an upcoming cruise. Besides the logistics and money for a family of two adults and three children will have to leave that visit for another time. I do hope to go out there so my girls can see something of the mountains. I just want to see my Dad, he's a great guy.
We tested out for our purple belts but I brain farted midway through the form so I hope sahbumnim is merciful with me. Truth is my mind was on the cruise and the western carribbean and not on ATA taekwondo. We go back tommorrow and see what happens, maybe the trinkets I bought in Jamaica and on the ship will help? We should have waited for after the cruise to test but it would have been the same, you're either prepared for such a test or you're not. At the that particular time, taekwondo was not on my mind; but jamaican rum, sandy beaches, clear blue sea, ancient mayan ruins and shipboard antics were all I was thinking about.
The Write Thoughts Poetry group I'm with had an evening of poetry reading and a display of local Galveston island themed poetry but I had to work. I later saw the poem I had submitted on display before we left for the cruise. I hope it's still up when I get back there because I want a picture of it.
Now for the meat of the matter, a week long cruise to Jamaica, Grand Cayman island and Cozumel, Mexico! We went on the Conquest out of Galveston, my family and my mother. It's her first time out of the country except for little mexican border towns and it was my daughter's first time out on a cruise ship. It was the second time out for my wife and I. If anyone deserved a vacation they did, I just like to get away for a while and see new things.
It took us two days at sea just to get to Jamaica and it was a wonderful sailing, the food wasn't as good as the Raphsody of the Seas of the the Royal Carribbean line but they still feed you like a king and the service was great. The Conquest is a huge ship, much bigger than the Rhaphsody so you don't feel the sea as much, it's not as personable as a smaller ship. I'll take the sea for a more personable experience, but I digress. My wife and girls literally camped out poolside, my mother did too but I think she relaxed more than the rest of us and that's what counts. I worked out in the gym and ran laps on deck, if you've never lifted dumbbells over your head or run on a rolling deck at sea you really should at least once. Wonderful test of balance and coordination with 40lbs over your head.
I did get sick for the first time at sea, contracted a noro virus from somewhere. When one is among 2000 plus passengers and 1000 plus crew in the clos confines of a ship illness travels like wildfire. It doesn't matter how clean you try to be, when this fucker bites it bites hard and holds on tight for a day or two and makes your life miserable with diarrhea, nausea, aches and pains and such. It hit me overnight between Jamaica and Grand Cayman Island but I did not pay some five thousand dollars, weeks of preparation, and travel a thoussand miles or so just to let some bug keep me in my bed! No way, I motrined myself up to control the low grade fever, hydrated myself with lots of water, and grabbed the bull by the balls and made it get on the tender then on the beach and I did get ashore to Grand Cayman island! The american dollar doesn't go far in Grand Cayman, only about 68 cents or so on the dollar, so we just walked around the duty free shops and stayed close to the ship.
Same thing with Jamaica, my wife and mother were really put off with the locals around the pier so we just hung around the shops then came back on the ship. I really wanted to go into town and see the sights or hang out with the crew at Doctors Cave beach. We would have had to travel by bus and Jamaica can be a dangerous place but I felt we would have been fine sticking close to the the other passengers and crew going ashore but the wife and mother would have none of it. So we came back on board, so much for my first time on the beautiful island of Jamaica
Cozumel was a better experience, I paid 229 dollars for a tour of the Mayan ruins in Tulum. My wife and I were here the last time, I really wanted to come back and I wanted the girls to see something one only reads about in books or sees on the Discovery channel, it was just too damn expensive for everyone so I took the older two girls and my wife, mother, and youngest daughter went shopping in Cozumel. The ruins are a wonderful and spiritual place and I am always in awe of the Mayan culture and the beauty of the place. I just couldn't stay away and this time I had my children with me; it was perfect. More to come on that later on a whole other entry.
I didn't engage in too many ship board antics, went up to the adults only deck once to sunbathe but Dana didn't want to go, I did bring my own rum this time so I always had a full lflask with me when at poolside or anywhere else on deck. Read some, wrote some poetry, including a great one about the couple in the cabin next ours. Dana didn't want to go dancing so I took it upon myself to dance with the other drunks to Bob Marley music at the poolside, she danced some but only on the periphery of the rest of our merry band. The rest of the cruise I'll have to write about some other time.
My head is still rolling to the motion of the ship as I type this and we are back at home, thanks to God. The girls go back to school tomorrow, I have a yard to cut, and life goes on.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
CPR Kills!
This is no shit, CPR kills! I've been nursing for seven years now, 14 if you count the 7 years I spent as an unlicensed HTA and nearly 20 if you toss in the 4 and a half years I spent as a Hospital Corpsman in the navy and I have yet to see a case when CPR was initiated and the patient lived to tell about it. In fact, the only cases I've seen survive were the testemonials on the CPR instructional videos.
Maybe it's because the ones I've had to do CPR on were really sick, eaten up with cancer, or just to injured to make it; but I can't recall one who made it. I've seen them come back with advanced life support, electrocardioconversion, administration of epinephrine or atropine or other drugs, but not ever with CPR alone. I just had to do CPR last week on some poor guy who was eaten up with colon cancer. He didn't make it.
It was pretty ugly, to tell the truth. I must have cracked every rib in the poor son of a bitch's body and I'll venture to say I punctured a lung, lacerated a liver and God only knows what other damage was done as we tried to resucitate him. When it's my time to go - let me go. No CPR, no extensive life saving measures. Only God knows when it's our time and I only hope and pray I still have the facility of mind and body to make a decision about my own do not resucitate status before I lose my facilities .
I look at a do not resucitate order as a death with dignity decision. My grandmother did it and she died in her own home surrounded by her family quietly and as pain free as we could make her. My grandfather died some 40 days later in the hospital quite suddenly, we really didn't expect him to go, and the nurses coded him and did everything in their power to bring him back. I'm only glad I wasn't there to see it because I've coded people and it's not a pretty sight. When I came into the room they were just wheeling out the crash cart, had just declared him dead, and me - I go into clinical ER phase. I whip out my stethescope, assess the situation as I've been trained to do, and immediately search for a pulse, respirations, the whole nine yards. All the time there's this little voice in the back of my head saying" Mike, he's gone, you know he's gone, just let him go. There isn't a thing in your human power you can do no matter how much you love him." Let me tell you people, DNR ( do not resucitate) is the way to go.
Each and every DNR case I've had to care for has gone quietly and as pain free as we could possibly do. Surrounded by loved ones and people who care. I've watched them die, it's not easy, but it's a lot easier knowing that dying is very much a part of living and I did my best to make their passing as comfortable and easy as possible. Dying is hard, it's as hard as birth and being born. It's hard on the people one leaves behind, the nurses caring for the dying and, of course ,it's hard on the dying. The good news is - they're dead and in a better place, we're still here and have to contend with living.
You don't ever get used to it, I'll not ever get used to it. To get used to it is to be inhuman and unfeeling and I'm not like that. I may grow calloused to it and surround myself in my little shell, but it beats the hell out of drinking, doing drugs, or any of a number of other nightmares one can fall into in the guise of coping. I'm convinced all nurses suffer from some degree of post traumatic stress disorder.
I rarely discuss work at home with my wife, no matter how bad I want to. It's not worth all the explaining, making her worry, going back over the experience, no don't bring work home. I'll just come in, take a shower and go to bed. If the event was particularly traumatic or bad I might have one or two good stiff drinks to take the edge off but that's it - no more because then you're just opening the door to a much worse nightmare. I might discuss work with my mother-in-law, but she's a nurse with over 30 years experience. I might even talk shop with my co-workers out of work, but I try not to do that too much because then I'm just bringing work out of work and that's not good.
I do keep a journal, I do keep up with this blog and I'm happy and grateful to God I can cope effectively enough. I pray my rosary daily, it's good therapy and without it I'd probably be strung out on the bottle or worse. When I run or cycle or swim my thoughts might wander to work and what's happened there but I'm able to look it in the face and not run from it. I can still walk back into the unit and do my job, I can still go back into the very rooms where all the unpleasantness happened and work. I don't linger or let thoughts linger. I move on with my life and work. Thank God I'm not haunted by the spirits of those who have passed. I pray that they have forgiven me and that they go on to the light to heaven. I pray for each and every one I've had to care for in some way form or fashion who has died.
When I die, I hope and pray it's with dignity, pain free as possible, and that the passing is as good and easy as was the birth. After all, dying is very much a part of living.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
First Taekwondo Tournament, First Poetry Published
Went to our first regional taekwondo tournament yesterday and it was a learning experience. First of all it's a real clusterfuck the way the thing is run but they have their rules and regulations. It started off with the tiny tigers competing, these are the 5 year olds and such. They start right off with them so that their parents can watch if the parents happen to be competing. The good news is , no matter how bad or wrong one does, one does get some good positive recognition for the individual effort put forth. This is the only sport I know of which does this. My daughter Stephanie got a medal for doing her form. I'm proud of my little girl, she did as well as a 5 year old can be expected to do. I really should work with her more.
The juniors performed next, these were my other two daughters, Victoria and Judith. Victoria wears braces on her teeth but doesn't have a mouth guard from her orthodontist so she could only compete in forms this time. She placed fourth. Judith competed in forms and sparring. Some of those girls really go at it and are just plain fucking deadly. God help the poor stupid son of a bitch who tries to lay an unwanted hand on some of these girls. I think they spar more hard and with more gusto than adults. Maybe it's because their just children and don't quite know their own strength yet? My Judith was eliminated in the first round, she just didn't have the gusto and passion the other kid did. Neither did I when my competition came up, more on that later. Judith also competed in forms but it seems to me she has an apethetic approach to forms. I'm still a student myself so I am not the expert to make that assessment. Both Victoria and Judith did get medals for placing fourth in forms.
Now about my performance, I competed in forms and sparring. I did my form but brain farted half way through it, still I finished my routine but didn't place against the other four men competing in my age group. Actually, I tied with one of the other guys for third place but he won in the tie breaker. I placed third in sparring against a 250lb man from Lake Charles, LA. who competed at world tournament as an orange belt. I'm 215lbs and maybe a little taller but this guy has technique which I lack and he knocked me down twice. He didn't have speed so much as he did have power. I think a lot of my problems stem from my lacking a competitve nature and not practicing as I should have or training as hard as I should have. I'm 38 years old and just now starting to compete in any sort of sport, some of these guys have been at this since they were children and have that wealth of experience to bring to this sport.
My wife Dana competed in forms and sparring and didn't come home with any medals but she had the best time and was the most excited all around. She sparred against one woman who was probably a first time sparrer as she was. Dana weighs 200 plus lbs and doesn't have speed but she does have power, this I know. The other girl was a lot lighter and had speed and a more competitive nature. Dana scored one point and was as giddy as a school girl, the other woman scored five points and won the match and was quietly excited compared to Dana.
Now about my first poem published. It's my poem called "Now" and it's part of an anthology titled "Twilight Musings". I still havn't seen it in any bookstores but I'll keep my eye out. It's on the first page, I paid fifty dollars for this 224 page volume put out by the International Library of Poetry. I'm convinced it's all a sham, I'm not planning on buying another volume from them in the future. I thought I was going to have more published than just this one poem. I have over 20 poems published on their web site, www.poetry.com. All of them have this little note about being published in an upcoming volume and all are copyrighted as my work. No table of contents, no index of authors or first lines; just a nicely bound hard back with my poem on the very first page. If this isn't bullshit I don't know what is.
Another thing about this web site, more than once I've submitted a poem and then returned to the website to find it gone as if I had never submitted the work in the first place. Maybe they didn't like it? I don't expect everyone to like everything I write, but I havn't had this problem with my poetry on www.blogger.com. In fact, everything I've put out on my blog, my poetry, or my haiku is all there on blogger.com. No problems, no editor telling me it contains explicit or unwanted wording or anything. Just pure artistic expression. Too bad I can't have my blogs or their contents automatically copyrighted like I do on poetry.com.
The juniors performed next, these were my other two daughters, Victoria and Judith. Victoria wears braces on her teeth but doesn't have a mouth guard from her orthodontist so she could only compete in forms this time. She placed fourth. Judith competed in forms and sparring. Some of those girls really go at it and are just plain fucking deadly. God help the poor stupid son of a bitch who tries to lay an unwanted hand on some of these girls. I think they spar more hard and with more gusto than adults. Maybe it's because their just children and don't quite know their own strength yet? My Judith was eliminated in the first round, she just didn't have the gusto and passion the other kid did. Neither did I when my competition came up, more on that later. Judith also competed in forms but it seems to me she has an apethetic approach to forms. I'm still a student myself so I am not the expert to make that assessment. Both Victoria and Judith did get medals for placing fourth in forms.
Now about my performance, I competed in forms and sparring. I did my form but brain farted half way through it, still I finished my routine but didn't place against the other four men competing in my age group. Actually, I tied with one of the other guys for third place but he won in the tie breaker. I placed third in sparring against a 250lb man from Lake Charles, LA. who competed at world tournament as an orange belt. I'm 215lbs and maybe a little taller but this guy has technique which I lack and he knocked me down twice. He didn't have speed so much as he did have power. I think a lot of my problems stem from my lacking a competitve nature and not practicing as I should have or training as hard as I should have. I'm 38 years old and just now starting to compete in any sort of sport, some of these guys have been at this since they were children and have that wealth of experience to bring to this sport.
My wife Dana competed in forms and sparring and didn't come home with any medals but she had the best time and was the most excited all around. She sparred against one woman who was probably a first time sparrer as she was. Dana weighs 200 plus lbs and doesn't have speed but she does have power, this I know. The other girl was a lot lighter and had speed and a more competitive nature. Dana scored one point and was as giddy as a school girl, the other woman scored five points and won the match and was quietly excited compared to Dana.
Now about my first poem published. It's my poem called "Now" and it's part of an anthology titled "Twilight Musings". I still havn't seen it in any bookstores but I'll keep my eye out. It's on the first page, I paid fifty dollars for this 224 page volume put out by the International Library of Poetry. I'm convinced it's all a sham, I'm not planning on buying another volume from them in the future. I thought I was going to have more published than just this one poem. I have over 20 poems published on their web site, www.poetry.com. All of them have this little note about being published in an upcoming volume and all are copyrighted as my work. No table of contents, no index of authors or first lines; just a nicely bound hard back with my poem on the very first page. If this isn't bullshit I don't know what is.
Another thing about this web site, more than once I've submitted a poem and then returned to the website to find it gone as if I had never submitted the work in the first place. Maybe they didn't like it? I don't expect everyone to like everything I write, but I havn't had this problem with my poetry on www.blogger.com. In fact, everything I've put out on my blog, my poetry, or my haiku is all there on blogger.com. No problems, no editor telling me it contains explicit or unwanted wording or anything. Just pure artistic expression. Too bad I can't have my blogs or their contents automatically copyrighted like I do on poetry.com.
Monday, January 30, 2006
My Monthly
Here it is almost the end of January and I havn't posted anything on my blog. I've just been cruising over other peoples' blogs, they seem a lot more interesting. There's a young suburban wife blog I hit almost daily just to see what those two are up to. Wish I could get my wife to do that! Blogging has become a sort of monthly thing for me, my monthly!
I post my poetry on poetry.com, what poetry they'll take according to their editorial limits and requirements. I have a great poem about just being a guy and my addiction to my dick but they wouldn't take it because I used the word penis in it. It's called " My Dilemma". Another one I wrote about being at one with God and the universe and perfect and balance and such before birth I had to re-write because they wouldn't take my original poem with the word sperm in it.
Sometimes when I write a poem it just goes over the required 20 lines or less, no more than 60 characters per line and God help me with what language and wording I use. Their requirements force me to tweak and tune my poetry to fit their guidelines. Sometimes I can do it other times I feel like there's and editor/slave driver/ task master type who's forcing me to do it his way. I wonder if Shakespeare had to fight editors or submit to editorial requirements?
This month started off pretty shitty- I was sick- we were all sick with some kind of virus making it's rounds through my house. I'm not one to call in sick but I've already called in twice this month alone. Raging fever, body aches, cough, the ugly list of signs and symptoms I don't won't to go back and recall.
It tore through me, then my wife, then our girls. The girls seem to always take it the worse, their temperatures shot up to 102.8 and all degrees between. Great thing children are so resiliant when it comes to illness and injury, they just bounce right back. It sure plays hell and havoc with their parents mindset though. I hate to see my children suffer illnness, after all I am a nurse. It's one thing for me to go to work and care for the sick and injured but to do so in my own house is a totally different ball game.
January rolls on and I still have to get my shit together with working out, running, cycling and such. At leastI started off going back to church, church is always a good start. I still have property taxes to pay before the end of this month, looks like I'm going to end up paying some penalties. I still have to get an inspection sticker for my wife's car, it expired the end of October 05.
Anyway, I better get away from this computer and get my ass in gear while I still feel motivated to do such. Early bird gets the worm!
I post my poetry on poetry.com, what poetry they'll take according to their editorial limits and requirements. I have a great poem about just being a guy and my addiction to my dick but they wouldn't take it because I used the word penis in it. It's called " My Dilemma". Another one I wrote about being at one with God and the universe and perfect and balance and such before birth I had to re-write because they wouldn't take my original poem with the word sperm in it.
Sometimes when I write a poem it just goes over the required 20 lines or less, no more than 60 characters per line and God help me with what language and wording I use. Their requirements force me to tweak and tune my poetry to fit their guidelines. Sometimes I can do it other times I feel like there's and editor/slave driver/ task master type who's forcing me to do it his way. I wonder if Shakespeare had to fight editors or submit to editorial requirements?
This month started off pretty shitty- I was sick- we were all sick with some kind of virus making it's rounds through my house. I'm not one to call in sick but I've already called in twice this month alone. Raging fever, body aches, cough, the ugly list of signs and symptoms I don't won't to go back and recall.
It tore through me, then my wife, then our girls. The girls seem to always take it the worse, their temperatures shot up to 102.8 and all degrees between. Great thing children are so resiliant when it comes to illness and injury, they just bounce right back. It sure plays hell and havoc with their parents mindset though. I hate to see my children suffer illnness, after all I am a nurse. It's one thing for me to go to work and care for the sick and injured but to do so in my own house is a totally different ball game.
January rolls on and I still have to get my shit together with working out, running, cycling and such. At leastI started off going back to church, church is always a good start. I still have property taxes to pay before the end of this month, looks like I'm going to end up paying some penalties. I still have to get an inspection sticker for my wife's car, it expired the end of October 05.
Anyway, I better get away from this computer and get my ass in gear while I still feel motivated to do such. Early bird gets the worm!
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