“Puzzle Time”
Monday started typically with an early morning New York Times crossword. I had a pretty slow time (just over 10 minutes when my Monday goal is under 10 minutes) but did learn something from the clue “Sirius…or Lassie, for example?” I got the answer “Dog Star” from the across clues and understood the Lassie part – but what about Sirius – why is that a Dog star? Turns out that Sirius gets this nickname because it is part of the constellation Canis Major, Latin for the “greater dog”. And interestingly, the expression “the dog days of summer” refers to the period from July 3rd to August 11th, when Sirius rises in conjunction with the sun. There’s usually some relatively useless information to be learned form the puzzle.
Monday continued with the Board audit committee meeting. My update was well received, and over quickly – the secret to success with this group is to share only what’s really necessary, keep it minimal, and emphasize the good news. This was maybe the third or fourth time since March that I’ve worn a dress shirt – albeit for less than an hour and with shorts.
After the meeting concluded I enjoyed a relaxing swim. First time I’d been in a few weeks and my arms and shoulders ached a bit afterwards – but, as Diana would say, “in a good way”. Post swim I stopped by the Run-On specialized running store in search of some socks to keep McD’s toes warm on cold morning expeditions. We’ll see how the merino wool ones that were recommended by the experts work out for her.
Massimo and Luciano enjoyed the pretty sunset view from Gypsy Hill in Pacifica on Monday evening:
We finished up Monday watching “The Undoing” on HBO. This is a murder mystery starring Hugh Grant and Nicole Kidman and set around an exclusive school in New York. The suspense is building and Hugh Grant may not be guilty. I’m guessing Donald Sutherland (Nicole’s character’s father and looking like he hasn’t aged in 20 years) was involved along with the sycophantic blonde mother.
The twenty bags of leaves were hauled out for garbage collection on Tuesday morning. You can see there is probably one more bag still on the massive oak tree. Evergreen trees are a great idea.
The crew showed up to repair the arbor on Tuesday morning. They had to build a structure to hold the top part up before replacing the thirty foot beam. The special jack they had is just the tool we needed last week.
Diana came in laughing as they asked her to turn off Stanley (the pool cleaner) – he was busy showing off his party trick of spraying water on the crew. The new beam was nicely in place by the end of the day. Just need to get Santos out to stain it now. We momentarily considered trying to get up on ladders and stain it ourselves – that passed pretty quickly.
We passed on Tuesday music livestream night and decided to dive into the new season of “The Queen”. We were a good way into an episode from a previous series – one centered around the moon landing – before realizing it. In retrospect it seemed vaguely familiar, but we enjoyed it nonetheless. Prince Philip’s commentary on the sermon at the local church – “not a sermon but more a general anesthetic.” And then the kids bouncing around on space hoppers – I think that’s what we called those orange inflatable balls with the kangaroo ears. Diana says they were “hippity hops” in the US. I can picture Elspeth bouncing around on one on the back patio.
We adjusted to the new season and got part way through episode 1. Is Gillian Anderson’s accent a little too much? Or is that really what Margaret Thatcher sounded like – I’ll have to look at some videos. I did enjoy the election quote from Thatcher – “Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched, and don’t count 10 Downing Street until it’s Thatched.”
The New York Times crossword seems to be featuring more music trivia related clues recently. Here’s one that I enjoyed on Wednesday:
I had a decent Wednesday time – likely from doing it 3 hours later than the Monday puzzle. Here’s a great song from Bowie’s “Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars” album:
I was racking my brain to think who the guy on the left of this work video call reminded me of:
Finally figured it out just before the meeting ended. Uncanny, don’t you think?
I still love the Tintin books.
We watched another episode of the Queen on Thursday evening that had a scene with Princess Anne competing in a horse jumping event. My mind drifted back to watching Harvey Smith and David Broome challenging each other in show jumping contests with Mum and Dad. What a great rivalry that was. Harvey Smith always on the edge of disaster and David Broome so much more composed, but no less competitive.
The Friday crossword and Rex Parker’s blog about it reminded me of a conversation with Clorinda on our last visit. I know, I know – a lot of crossword talk this week – but I have to find news and interest where I can these days.
Apparently Buckminster Fuller (inventor of the geodesic dome) and his wife were good friends with Clorinda and Sebastian back in the day. Diana seemed to remember going to visit them in San Francisco. Clorinda has a few pieces of art by Fuller – they are a bit akin to Jackson Pollock paintings. He was best known as an architect.
Saturday started with the crossword. I had filled in the whole of the East but couldn’t get any kind of toe-hold in the West. Diana to the recue with “Hakuna Matata” – the clue was something about an Elton John and Tim Rice composition. It still took me a woeful forty-seven minutes to finish.
After the puzzle we had a pleasant morning walk and then endeavored to troubleshoot the aromatherapy unit associated with the steam shower. It once worked but had stopped producing the eucalyptus scent that Diana enjoys. I couldn’t find the manual but the online version gave clear instructions on tow to “bleed” the system of any air. About 20 minutes later we were back in business.
I received these old pictures of Zumie out by the pool. Not sure what the black plastic thing he has in his mouth is and it looks like he got in trouble for digging on the far side of the pool. Also looks like he’s just back from his fortnightly trip to the groomer.
We watched a sappy Hallmark Christmas style movie on Saturday night. A country music star comes back home and helps his old girlfriend save the family farm. Harmless entertainment.
Sunday was very typical – which I think is a good thing. New York Times puzzle (no help necessary), reading, coffee downtown after McD’s run 
(tried a new place called “Wattage” which didn’t have any atmosphere at all – we’ll be back to Filtered next week), piano practice, chat with Vince in Phillie, FaceTime with Mum and Dad, elliptical with early football game, relaxing steam shower, and now watching the Cowboys play the Minnesota Vikings. Currently winning 16-14 after a one handed circus catch by Lamb.
I dipped back into the excellent “Cool Gray City of Love” by Gary Kamiya (long time San Francisco Chronicle writer) and particularly the chapter “The Front Door”. This book covers 49 different views and associated stories of the city, and this chapter is about the Ferry Building. I read that it is modeled after the Giralda, Seville Cathedral’s minaret turned well tower. The change in the area over the years is fascinating:
“Until 1936, when the Bay Bridge opened, San Francisco could be reached only by water or from the peninsula. The overwhelming majority of people came across the bay by ferry. Which meant that the Ferry Building was the city’s front door.”
“In 1913, 60,000 consumers crossed the bay by water twice each workday. They walked off the boat and up the Y-shaped gangways into the Ferry Building, strolled across its marble mosaic floors, and exited through its massive arches onto the Ferry Plaza. What greeted them was controlled chaos – and a city planner’s dream. Streetcars, horses, cable cars, railroads – there was more transportation running around than in a Richard Scarry book.”
I love the Richard Scarry reference and can’t help thinking that mass transit was much more effective in 1913 than it is today.
“The coup de grace was announced in 1958, the same year the last ferry ran. That was when the first containerized freighter sailed through the Golden Gate. Container shipping requires space and facilities, and San Francisco could not compete with Oakland. Just 24 years after Bloody Thursday, one of the world’s great working ports was nearing the end.
And behind the City Front, the brawny man’s-man city that had existed since the Gold Rush was dying too. Heavy industry was leaving San Francisco. Factory workers were being replaced by secretaries and clerks. Skyscrapers for the new financial district were replacing docks and cranes. The great postindustrial transformation that was to change all American society had begun in San Francisco. Over the next two decades, it would result in a completely different city.”
This book is highly recommended for anyone visiting San Francisco – great ideas on off the beaten path areas to explore and from where to enjoy different views of one of the beautiful cities. The chapter on earthquakes that juxtaposes accounts of the 1906 quake and fire with the 1989 quake is also excellent reading
I completed “Goodbye to a River” this week. As I mentioned, this is part canoeing adventure down the Brazos river, part history of the early settlers and the Comanche tribe, and part commentary on man-made lakes and dams and the changes they foist on nature.
The word drouth appears often in Graves writing. It is defined as “a period of dry weather, especially a long one that is injurious to crops.” Initially I suspected it meant something similar to the Scottish word dreich, but that’s quite different. Dreich means bleak, miserable, dismal, cheerless, or dreary, and I usually associate it with rain or mist, not drought. Mum agreed that the weather in Scotland on Sunday was quite dreich.
Here Graves talks about the Possum Kingdom dam and other plans to put man-made controls on the river:
“But if you are built like me, neither the certainty of change, nor the need for it, nor any wry philosophy will keep you from feeling a certain enraged awe when you hear that a river that you’ve known always, and that all men of that place have known always back into the red dawn of men, will shortly not exist. A piece of river, anyhow, my piece…”
Some of the excellent descriptions of the natural landscape:
“That afternoon I got only to Eagle Creek, still probing uncourageously against weather’s ire. Rounded grey-stone cliffs stand beside the creek mouth; in the river itself massive, split-away, rhombic blocks twist and slow the green current of a long pool. Big oaks gone red, and yellowed ashes rose precariously from slanted alluvial soil beneath the cliffs, piles of drift against their boles in prophecy of their own fate; it is on the outside tip of a bend, and in those places the river lays down rich sediment for maybe centuries and then in a fit of angry spate cuts under it and carries it away, trees and all…”
A description of the joy (or suffering) of camping. I love the “alligator-skin corrugations”:
“On top of the food box alligator-skin corrugations of frost had formed, and with the first touch of the sun the willows began to whisper as frozen leaves loosed their hold and fell side-slipping down through the others that were still green. Titmice called, and flickers and a redbird, and for a moment, on a twig four feet from my face, a chittering kinglet jumped around alternately hiding and flashing the scarlet of its crown…I sat and listened and watched while the world woke up, and drank three cups of the syrupy coffee, better I thought than any I’d ever tasted, and smoked two pipes.”
I had thought “ken” was a Scottish word for “know”, but maybe not after reading this section:
“The trouble was, I was ignorant. Even in that country where I belonged, my ken of natural things didn’t include a little bird that went heap-heap, and a few moronic holes in the sand. Or a million other matters worth the kenning.”
Here’s what I found about the origin on the internet:
Here’s a fascinating paragraph on how one can tell the origin of cabin builders by the techniques used, based on the type of timber available in home states:
“They left the marks of their origins in the way they built, mainly in their notches. Deep Southerners from the big-pine states cut simple, vulnerable half-notches and quarter-notches of the kind they’d used with the long, straight, expendable timber of home. Those flat notches rot out fast, and the examples that are left are mostly on houses that were boarded over a few years after building. Hill Southerners – Tennesseans and Kentuckians and Carolinians – had the tradition of the peaked saddle-notch, a tight joint suited to quick-tapering mountain hardwoods and good with post oaks, too, since a number of such cabins are still around. Pennsylvania Germans, apparently, shoved the use of the dovetail and the miter dovetail on into the Midwest, and when you find a house with those corners in Texas, you know that an ancient Ohioan or Illinoisan had his hand in it, or someone who learned from him.”
All that nature writing put me in the mood to watch the documentary film “My Octopus Teacher”. What an excellent experience – the underwater photography is amazing and the bond formed between the filmmaker and a small octopus is quite unexpected. Craig Foster went free diving in the South African kelp forest by his home every day at the same time. This allowed the octopus to become familiar with him and ultimately results in what really does seem like a friendship – with the octopus wrapped around his hand and resting on his chest. A highly recommended film.
I read a New Yorker article on Adrienne Lenker of the band Big Thief that mentioned this song, “Paul”, as one of their best. Lenker attended Berklee College of Music on a full scholarship made possible by the awesome Susan Tedeschi. She studied guitar as a result of an audition that she performed on a Martin acoustic guitar. Completely self taught and without an understanding of music theory, her first year at Berklee must have been quite a challenging experience.
I read that the legendary jazz pianist Keith Jarrett has permanently lost the use of his left hand. Reminds me of the book “Every Note Played” by Lisa Genova that I reviewed a year or so ago. Here’s a tune from Jarrett’s most recent (and perhaps final) release:
I wrote about the music of Philip Glass last week. This week I found interpretations of his work by the amazing classical guitarist, Gerard Cousins. Hope you like this one as much as I do:
Here’s your weekly dose of John Prine. This time a collaboration with Kurt Vile – just beautiful:
I worked on “The River” by Joni Mitchell for the piano this week – one of the hauntingly sad Christmas songs – “I wish I had a river that I could skate away on.” So many people view this as a classic, happy holiday tune – they clearly haven’t listened to the lyrics. Here’s a version by Herbie Hancock with Corinne Bailey Rae from his excellent “The Joni Letters” album: