34 miles, 45 km, or so south of Cancun, Quintana Roo, Mexico is a resort, the Xcaret Grand Occidental. I am here accompanying my husband to a scientific conference. The ever-encroaching greenness is kept at bay. a few select specimens are allowed constrained and coiffed growth The occasional It could be any where near the ocean where Spanish is a primary language and English is spoken to cater to visitors. It could be in Tucson. The property could be any resort in several destination cities. Sparking bluepools are surrounded by the no longer svelt nor youthful, but now adequately monied, bodies of fortunate, successful people. All of the staff speak English at the hotel/resort. The staff speak Spanish to each other, exchanging bits of gossip just as is the case at many of the resorts in Tucson.
The ocean, actually the Caribbean, wraps itself around the eastern half of the Yucatan Peninsula. I am the northeastern corner. I have always wanted to come here; one of my professors in graduate school, Dr. Robert Fry specialized in Mayan ceramics and worked in this part of the world. The sites of Palenque and Tikal were the areas used in examples, so the rather limited understanding of archaeological principles I have was largely founded on archaeology of this region. I’m not an archeologist, but rather a cultural anthropologist, by training. All American Anthropologists have to show proficiency in all 4 fields of anthropology before receiving the Masters of Science Degree.
I will be writing about my far too short of a trip here several times between now and the Winter Solstice. The calendar that drew upon the extensive astronomical knowledge of the Maya ends 6 weeks from now. This cycle ends and many people believe the world will end with it. Others who also believe in the Mayan Prophecy believe the ending is but one of a cycle drawing to a close with another beginning. We will find out soon, won’t we?
I will also write about “eco-tourism” that isn’t, and the disturbing recreation of the noble savage mythology. At a specified time each evening the crafted canals that flow throughout the resort carry canoes or long boats filled with actors re-creating “traditional” Mayan ways. Conch horns sound, drums pulse, and chants reverberate as tightly scripted as any theatrical production. The eco-park is a bit Disney with its created skin covering the hugely reconfigured coastline and jungle.
There has been lots of fodder for bloggy rumination on this trip. And I will be sharing it all with you over the next few weeks.
Cobwebs
The word cobwebs sounds like a word Gertrude Stein could have invented. Inverted it could have been webcobs which could easily be mis-heard as copse. Web copse or web forests sounds spooky and eerily like something that the beings of Middle Earth would encountered beyond the Shire. And we know that spiders are very nasty creatures in Tolkien’s masterful amalgamation of Northern European mythologies. But that is neither here nor there except for Frodo Baggins. That was a fun train of thought digression but a digression none the less.
So what is a cob? There are corncobs but I do not believe that they have anything to do with spiders, dust, or abandoned spaces. Per the etiology of arachnids, coppe is a Middle English word for spider. Over the centuries, coppe transformed to cob. Coppe meant spiders, generically, but not all spiders weave cobwebs as cobs are long irregular strings of spider silk that bear little resemblance to the elegant patterned symmetric creations of a different group of spiders.
Living in Arizona can teach a person about poisons and prickly bits that no one in his or her right mind would ever wish to know about. A cob weaving spider was one of my first unwanted learning experiences in Arizona. A bark scorpion was my first. I was stung by a bark scorpion near a mountain lake at 7000 ft. altitude during the fourth month of my pregnancy. Yikes. It hurt but wasn’t too bad and didn’t seem to hurt my daughter, though she is a tough and feisty one.
The second acquaintance was with Black Widow Spiders that are cob weaving spiders. The southern exterior portions of our home here in Tucson were infested with Black widows when we first moved in. We didn’t discover this until the winter in which we moved in to the house has turned into spring. There were hollow metal columns on our porches and under our awning and there were stringy bits of erratically spun silk that appeared to originate from within the tubes. They are very resistant to most bug and spider sprays. At night, which is when they would come out, Hubby and I would take a broom, a sturdily soled shoe, and a flashlight out at night and hunt them down. Shine the light, find the spider, knock it to the ground with the broom, and kill it with the shoe. We did this for ages but were unable to exterminate the entire population, until we discovered that moth balls, the real toxic form of good old-fashioned moth balls if dropped or rolled down or back into the metal tubes would get rid of them.
Once cobwebs might have evoked a mild response from me with thoughts of attic detritus, barn rafters and wisps of house spider silk long since abandoned and covered with the filmy dust of long forgotten spaces. No longer, though. Now, I know exactly what those stringy and sticky asymmetries can mean, I think of invasion of my living space by lethal crawling creatures toxic enough to kill my babies.
Artificial cobwebs are pervasive this time of year with Halloween approaching. I have to admit that I would much rather observe the Day of the Dead with Marigolds and skulls made of sugar than with fake webs made of stringy fibers that mimic cobwebs. I’ve grown to like Tucson traditions, and cobwebs are not among them.
GBE2.cobwebs.10-14-12
Thirty Days Hath September
[one_half]September In Review
I don’t know where this month went. I’ve blogged every day in September as a part of a NaBloPoMo challenge. I have posted, essentially cross-posted, links to my daily posts whenever I can find a few additional minutes in the day to catch up with four Facebook blogging groups, as well as leaving a link on BlogHer’s Nablopomo September Posts page. Pinterest and Stumble Upon updates have been made less successfully than other updates. Google+ was utilized least well of the standard social media platforms this past month. Auto-generated and posted Twitter and Facebook posted links were the most regular. Facebook sends lots of folks to my site, but autoposts on Twitter rarely does. I have not really even dipped my toe into Instagram.
I’m going to have to rethink the entire update/marketing procedure to make it more streamlined targeted, effective, personal, and worthwhile. I’m not sure all that is possible at the same time though. Some changes do need to be made.
The most important writing and marketing lessons of September for me were the ones related to pipelines and previously mapped out, written, and scheduled posts. The stress goes away and the act of seeing words come together in a meaningful way on the page is fun when the immediate, “gotta get it out today” pressure is removed. I start posts now even though I know I won’t finish them the same day, or perhaps ever, but if the same thoughts or topic crop up as something I want to write about again, I have something from which to add to, or subtract so the blank page is not a problem for me to face.
The Wednesday Weekly App post, even though has ‘t been every week, is a definite keeper. I will probably include something like a Mastiff Monday, too, to include my undoubtedly in the offing puppy posts. The addition of another puppy into my life gives me another topic about which to have recurrent posts. Like I need another topic!
I still think that writing every single day may be a bit much for me. I might give myself weekends off, if I don’t feel like writing on a Saturday or Sunday. And if I do feel like writing, I can polish, edit or get a few days ahead with posts or work solely on the structure and back end of my sites.
I like idea of a retrospective look at my writing for the month that is ending. Briefly examining what I want to keep and what I want to change for the upcoming month sounds like a reasonable tool for me and a topic that might inform others who are interested in blogging and writing in the 21st Century.
Next month a summary will be tough to do because the end of the month is not just Halloween, but also preparation time for Dia de los Muertos which in Tucson is a very important time for historic and evolving cultural traditions. MORE on that throughout the month! There are also some birthdays and anniversaries in this coming month of people I have loved and lost. I want to write about them. I will also be prepping for a long weekend at a resort in Mexico in November, something that is way off my usual radar as “resorts” especially ones with “native villages” within the resort “experience,” are a bit too colonial and “noble savage” for me. October will provide opportunity for lots of fun and thoughtful writing. And of course the holidays are approaching with visits from the offspring and their progeny. And Done Nesting will go live, though be in Beta. I’m looking at an After the Apocalypse launch (tongue in cheek naming here!) October is gonna be GOOD.
Tumbleweed Tails and Gelato – The Italian Connection
In the midst of having a list of writing and platform installation tasks as long as my arm, this past weekend, my Hubby, Fang, wanted to try to track down the person who ran the kennel where we purchased our last Italian, or Neapolitan, Mastiff. Since the untimely death of Mr. Worf, our last Neo, from an Africanized bee attack, Hubby Fang has been inconsolate. He is a boy who really needs to have a puppy. We ended up with Gelato instead of a puppy. I have to highly recommend Frost for some of the best gelato ever. Really! The master gelato maker is here from Italy with a special work visa used exclusively for highly skilled specialists. If you are in Tucson you need to check it out one of their locations for some excellent, one-of-a-kind flavors, and they always have two sugar free flavors that are the best you will find anywhere. Actually, they are opening up franchises for this Tucson-based business, so you might be able to find one close, or at least closer, to you.
We have to spend time creating our new married life for the next phase of our life together. We never had any real time as just a couple. We started our family immediately upon finally getting together. I knew Fang for 15 years as a dear friend before we ever got together. Once we finally got together there was no time to waste, apparently. So here we are 23 years later, after already having grown tired of each other's annoying habits and idiosyncrasies, as most long term couples do, trying to be nice to each other in our new dynamic, and not really knowing how. Remember, remember, remember… what was it, besides sex, that I found so irresistible about him so long ago? Well, he is brilliant. But then so am I. And he loves dogs. For me that says a huge amount about a person. Good sex, good brain, and dog-lover. What more does a woman need? I need something for Fang to do to keep him from starting any more construction projects around the home. Have I told you about the kitchen cabinets he has been building for five years? That, as they say, is another story. I'm in hot pursuit of finding him a new pup to be his best friend.
In fact this weekend, today, we drove up to Phoenix from Tucson to meet some rescued Neapolitan Mastiffs. We are seriously in the market for a companion for our grouchy 8 year old mixed breed bitch. So we met the most adorable rescue male Neo. His name is Cooper and he needs a forever home. He is a year or so old, but Neos act like puppies until they are two or so. He loved me and gave me kisses almost immediately. He got on fine with our Miss Daisy too; serious butt-sniffing ensued and there was a little bit of circle play. But he was sort of indifferent with Hubby Fang. And Fang is the boy who needs a puppy.
It broke my heart not to adopt Cooper because he has a sweet, truly non-aggressive personality, and is so friendly, happy, and playful. He isn't super wrinkly at all, as most non champion Neos aren't, and he is a bit on the small side, which I think is good because that could extend the shorter lifespan tht some of the really big dogs tend to have. I think he is perfect. I wish he would have hit it off with Fang. He has a cherry eye that will be corrected with surgery, at the same time he is neutered, before being released to his forever home. I hope someone special adopts him soon. He would be perfect for a woman in need of a companion dog, and he is good with kids so a single mom with kids would be a great fit. Did I mention he has the most gorgeous soft, shiny black fur? He has a short coat so shedding wouldn't be bad. Mastiffs are the most loyal canines ever and when they bond with their forever pack, they are the best friend you will ever have. Rescue animals need your love even more than regular animals.
I hope you will consider adopting a rescued animal the next time you are searching for a pet. They need us so much. There are probably a hundred or more animals in need of homes in your city right now. You can check out rescue animals in AZ and the Southwest by going to Canine Rescue Coalition on Facebook. Pet Finder is a national website that works with many local rescue groups to connect you with animals that need homes. Don't buy, adopt. That way you are not supporting puppy mills and setting up unpurchased animals for abuse or euthenasia.
Autumnal Equinox
I love the way the words “Autumnal Equinox” roll off my tongue. It is all hummy and soft at first, and then becomes crisp at the end. The light of Autumn lengthens and there is a golden glow to the late afternoon air here in Tucson that gives me the first confirmation of seasonal change here. Unless 99 degrees Farenheit is cool, which it isn't, then the cool crisp nip of air is not a major part of the Autumn experience for those folks who live in the southwestern United States below 4000 ft. elevation. But Mabon, the celtic name for the equinox, arrives none the less though the stereotypic piles of leaves and heavy sweaters have little to do with the season I have experienced in the Old Pueblo for the last, oh my goodness, nearly 25 years.
I arrived for a visit to Tucson in October of 1988. I married here on the top of Mount Lemmon in '89. My daughter was born here at the University of Arizona Medical Center in 1990. While at times it seems like I am treading water, I seem to be moving through this time stream rather quickly. Mrs. Urquides, my next door neighbor for 20 years, lived to be 105, and described the ever quickening passing of time as “at first the days go by quickly, then the weeks and months, and then the seasons come and go in the blink of an eye, and finally the years cascade past.”
While I grew up pouring over copies of Arizona Highways Magazine, and its gorgeous imagery of fall colors that line the canyons and ridges of Northern Arizona, it was listening to Mrs. Urquides tell her stories of Arizona in the early 1900s that really gave me an appreciation of seasons in my new home. Journeys to higher elevations to collect the fruits of the season from Sedona in the north and Wilcox in the south were recounted as grand family adventures of buckboards and bushels of apples. And hidden within her stories were attitudes about the seasons that were very different from mine that formed in the geographic context of the Lower Great Lakes Basin. In the Primeria Alta, the northernmost part of the Sonoran Desert greets Autumn as respite from the extremes of Summer just as Spring is greeted as the ending of Winter extremes.
With climate change increasing weather fluctuations it is difficult to anticipate what any season may bring, decades old trees and plants died when Tucson had extreme cold for several days in a row in early February 2011 where a record low of 18 degrees was set. The growing season in Tucson averages 324 days, with first frost usually happening on December 18th and last frost occurring on January 19th. But Autumn is arriving, not Winter.
So as the days begin to top out below 100 degrees, I'm thinking about spiffing up the patio with some flowers, putting some tomato plants out and maybe some peppers, and some herbs. Sort of inverse of back east, but it is the cycle to which I have become accustomed. When I have a Fall/Winter garden I usually keep sheets handy for covering plants should a cold snap occur. So I will need to do some prep work.
But no matter what I decide to do this season, October is the most gorgeous month of the year in Tucson. It is hiking weather, perfect in that it isn't hot or cold usually during the day and a bit coolish at night. I first came to Tucson in this weather and it is absolutely perfect for exploring historic places and open to the public archaeological sites.
Framing the Shuttle
Somehow the flyover of Tucson by the Space Shuttle was a nice way to say goodbye to the old space program for me. From what I can tell the buzzing of the U of A campus was a last minute request by the last person to pilot/command the shuttle, Mark Kelly. His wife didn't get to really experience that last flight because she was recovering from an assassination attempt. They were on the top of a parking garage today for the flyover. That was neat! Local news covered it of course. Apparently since the flight path went over Tucson anyway, from Houston to Edwards Air Force Base, this little buzz was requested by Mark for Gabby yesterday. Double neato.
In the late 1970s I spent a couple summers in Berkeley, CA. My Uncle Carl had worked at Edwards Air Force Base, for a couple decades. He was in the trouble shooting engineering dept that worked on optics/camera for moon landings and he managed to get my boyfriend and I and another couple VIP passes to see the first free flight test of the shuttle. They took it up piggyback, just like today's flight, on a 747, and then it disconnected for computer testing and landing. It was amazing. It was in August, the Perseid meteor shower was at its peak the night before the launch, and we drove all night from the Bay Area to Edwards. The meteor shower was spectacular and at dawn as we got close to where my uncle and aunt lived, we had to stop for a shepherd to finish having his flock of sheep cross the road. At that time, LA had not sprawled north that far and there were still Basque shepherds in the Antelope Valley.
After introductions and a cup of coffee we piled into my uncle's old nondescript car that had been aged and naturally sand blasted to perfectly match the surrounding Mojave Desert and drove toward Edwards AFB. We went through checkpoint after checkpoint with crowds of people standing to watch the test flight outside each checkpoint. At every checkpoint there were fewer people, and finally at the last one, we went through and turned behind some hangars to park in an open air parking lot and there in the next section over in the parking lot was the Shuttle on top of the 747. We really were in the VIP section with Senators, and Military Brass all standing around outside the hangars. The roar of the crowd at the successful glide in still resounds when I remember. Pretty neato. And yes, we saw the take off, separation and landing. Those dry lake beds are amazing and perfect for landing spacecraft.
Having personal visual memories on either side of the Space Shuttle program frames an era literally and figuratively for me. It must mean I'm old. Or lucky. Yes, lucky. Pre and post program memories. Thanks Uncle Carl, you would have liked today here in Tucson.