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Do not eat the black olives

Quick! What is this?

You’ll find the answer over on my Tumblr. Having posted the photograph in one place, however, it seems silly to put part of the same picture elsewhere. So I probably won’t do this a lot, but I needed some sort of art for the day, and this seemed a cheap and easy way to do it.

More easy content: I accidentally landed on someone’s mailing list as they wrote to their family back home about their trip to the American southwest. Seems someone has noticed the error, or the emails have stopped for some other reason, but let’s live vicariously, shall we?

Call her Barbara, though that’s not her name.

Day One:

I’ve arrived in Phoenix. There is no phone here, but in an emergency my cell phone might work (yet to be determined, but I’ll confirm later).

Hope you are well. We have wi-fi here and I’d love to hear from you by email.

Have a good week.
Love,

Barbara

Day Two:

Hi,

Great to hear from you. We had a jam-packed day today. We went shopping, out for lunch, to the Phoenix Art Museum, and to the Heard Museum. The restaurant had typical south western fare. The native artifacts were really interesting. I have some pictures but don’t know how to get them on the IPad.

Tomorrow we’re going to golf in the morning, check out some food trucks in Phoenix, and go to the Botanical Gardens in the afternoon. This holiday is fun but exhausting!

Miss you all.

Love,

Barbara

Sounds like a great trip so far. At the art museum Barbara might have seen exhibitions by Matthew Moore, W. Eugene Smith, Gustave Baumann and others. The Heard Museum is hosting great exhibitions on the art of ceremony and the history of bolo ties, among other things. You laugh, but I bet that one cinches on tight and doesn’t let go. (Actually that sounds like a great museum. When in Phoenix … )

If they made it out to the botanical garden they no doubt enjoyed the spring butterfly exhibit.

On Day Three of her adventure she sent me a picture — out of respect for her privacy I shall not post it. Imagine a nice lady standing by several cacti all much taller than her.

“Too big to trip over! I sure wouldn’t want to fall on one though!” she wrote.

Which is where I am a bit sad. She’s trying to write her grandson. I hope he gets to see this picture eventually.

On Day Five I received another email:

Good morning,

It was over 100 degrees here yesterday. It doesn’t feel too bad as long as we’re not walking around in the sun in the afternoon for too long.

The Swap Mart was OK. It was like a huge flea market, but with only new things for sale. The olive grove was interesting. There are only two places in North America where they grow olives, here and in California. The climate here is perfect for olives. They don’t get any of the pests or mold that they do in Europe, so can grow here with no pesticides or herbicides. They would be certified organic if the corn field that is within 15 miles of their grove was also organic. They also don’t have to worry about birds eating them off the tree as olives are very bitter until they have been soaked for quite a while. We had lunch outside under an umbrella. The food was excellent and the tour afterwards was very informative. I learned that olive oil should say ‘extra virgin’, ‘fresh pressed’ or ‘cold pressed’ and that we should not eat ‘black olives’.

We went shopping again after that and to a great food market where we got wood-oven pizza, salad, and other treats. We’re eating like queens. I’ll have to take up running when I get back.

We’re off to Sedona this morning, and will be there overnight.

Hope you are all well and happy.

Love,

Barbara

Someone wrote to the group asking why you aren’t supposed to eat the black olives. A fair question as I’m sure we’re all a bit more olive smart after that email, but it doesn’t elaborate on that point. Maybe she was talking about canned black olives, which sometimes use ferrous sulfate as a coloring additive. After that I’m out of guesses and I won’t look it up — because if you’ve ever done that before you understand the wisdom of not asking the Internet a question about health and safety.

And that’s where the email thread ends. Sounded like a nice front half of a fine vacation though. Hope she made it home safely with lots of pictures and adventures to share. Check out, by the way, the banner art on the Sedona link. That must be a beautiful place.

Had the new editor meeting tonight. We bring in the outgoing and now grizzled veteran and the shiny-eyed new person and talk about the job. This is what I do and don’t do. These are the positions you should be hiring for. This is what you can expect.

These are the obstacles. This is the workflow. These are the late nights. These are the things you must do. These are the few things you can’t do. Here is the production bible and notes from former staffers.

Now go out there and, as some wordsmiths awkwardly say, “commit journalism.”

The new editor works hard. She’ll grow into the position nicely.

adventures / Auburn / baseball / iPhone / photo / weekend — Comments Off
29
Apr 12

Catching up

Welcome to the portion of the site where we throw a bunch of photos up, show them off for the first time and call it a day.

This is from the wedding reception yesterday. The Yankee hanging out with a bunch of her former students. They’re a nice group. Very funny. They’re mugging for the official photographer. I’m just butting in here:

I discussed the bouquet toss, so it is only fair to show the garter. This might be the first one I’ve seen where more than one person was interested in catching it:

Our local baseball vendor. He “don’t sell to no Tennessee fans.” He has enough patter to go about six innings without repeating himself. Makes a lot of money off those jokes, too.

We have to do this one every year, and today was the perfect opportunity to sneak it in. Hot, bright and not a cloud in the sky for our reflection picture of Samford Stadium-Hitchcock Field at Plainsman Park. Auburn has runners on the corners and is about to turn this game into a blowout to sweep the weekend series:

adventures / Auburn / iPhone / photo / weekend — Comments Off
28
Apr 12

The day, in one picture

We were invited to attend the wedding of one of The Yankee’s former students. She was marrying her college sweetheart. As the two Auburn alumni walked back up the aisle, having been announced to everyone gathered at the lovely country home wedding, the classical guitar band played War Eagle.

Later, after the food there were the dances. The bride and groom danced to a Jason Mraz song — I called it on the way to the wedding. The bride and her father enjoyed a Steven Curtis Chapman song. The groom and his mother danced … to the Cupid Shuffle. After that and all of the other things you see at weddings, everyone gathered for the traditional tosses.

Here one of the bride’s former classmates demonstrates the thrill of bouquet victory:

And another shows us the agony of “I might not ever marry now” defeat.

It was the minister’s first marriage ceremony. They had a reception band that insisted on turning everything into a Jack Johnson-type song.

The groom’s truck was decorated in the traditional, embarrassing style.

(As we left we wondered how that didn’t happen to us. We had valet parking. That’s the way to go, friends.)

Despite that tiny setback, it was a beautiful day for an outdoor wedding to see two nice young people, Dan and Ally, exchange vows. Glad we got to be there.

Friday / iPhone / photo / site — Comments Off
27
Apr 12

The acceptable uses for chalk

When you think about it, beyond the classroom setting, there’s just not that much call for chalk.

Sure, there’s that rousing game of hopscotch. And kids occasionally scribble on sidewalks to amuse themselves. On college campuses that remains a moderately effective message delivery system. But that’s about it.

Oh, and the produce aisle.

This is at a cafe, which is also a produce store, attached to the back of a nursery. The nursery is well located, but who knows how many times I’ve passed the cafe without it registering. There’s limited parking. You have to walk through or around the nursery to get to the Crape Myrtle Cafe.

More chalk:

The food there is very good, so I’ve heard. We order a fresh veggie basket every week. They are locally grown, organic, and all the rest of those happy little buzzwords. We make huge salads and are forced to find recipes for things like kale and radishes.

While the nice lady that works there puts my basket together I look around, enjoying a warm day, noisy birds and the smell of strawberries and tomatoes. I take pictures of local honey jars and labels that read “Certified Organic Sprouted Bagels — with grains as referenced in Ezekiel 4:9.”

That verse, by the way, says “Take wheat and barley, beans and lentils, millet and spelt; put them in a storage jar and use them to make bread for yourself. You are to eat it during the 390 days you lie on your side.”

My neck and shoulders are about 15 percent better. I’m trying to lie on my side, but I’m not doing this for 390 days. Two weeks in and I’m beyond that point of “This hurts, and that, in turn, magnified every other little thing.” I’m now to “I’m really, really tired of feeling like this.

But it is heartening that there’s progress. Tonight something popped in my neck and it helped a great deal. Moving slow, but now more by design than anything else.

I’ll take some more of that progress, if you don’t mind.

On the site: The March and April photo galleries are now updated. You can see those and much, much more on the photo page.

One version of the chalkboards above has worked into the rotation of the banners at the bottom of the page. You can see it here. You can see all of them simultaneously, with cutline info, right over here.

I’m going to go rest now. And by rest I mean make a bunch of phone calls.

adventures / iPhone / photo / Samford / Tumblr / Twitter / Wednesday — Comments Off
25
Apr 12

Your most unusual ice cream

One of my annual projects took me snooping around campus today. Our printer brings us some of the plates from the newspaper as keepsakes. This is the day when they are delivered, and I spend a while searching for them.

My investigation led me to this door and the sign above it:

After what happened to your other hand, you’d think you’d learn, right?

Something I wrote on my student blog, The classes we wish we’d taken.

A professor friend in Texas wrote “The class I most wish I had taken is probably ‘How to Find Buried Treasure and Pick Winning Lottery Numbers.'”

They didn’t offer that in my undergrad curriculum.

The Yankee, Brian and I visited Bloodhound for dinner tonight. It is the hot new place in town, described to us as having specialties of bourbon and bacon. Looking at the menu, there’s nothing healthy at the place. We had to visit. Here’s their description:

Bloodhound is a family owned restaurant, bar and live music venue featuring over-the-top American classics, top shelf bourbon, 28 craft beers on tap, and a music line up sure to knock your socks off. Our atmosphere was designed to be warm and welcoming- think hunting lodge, antler-pronged barn setting with the hustle and bustle of old time Alabama. Our music venue is separate from the restaurant and dining area with it’s own bar, stage, and local art displays.

I had the bacon, turkey and avocado sandwich, which was great. The dijon really made the dish. They also offered free popcorn, popped in bacon grease. Tasted like popcorn.

It is a fine-food place in a casual atmosphere, keeping the slightly upscale prices. The meatloaf will set you back $16. Brian said it was delicious. I don’t doubt his evaluation, but have a hard time ordering a $16 meatloaf.

A big component of the place is the everything-local motif. They even offer honeysuckle ice cream. Seems they go out and collect the stuff in the spring. It takes bags of the flowers to make a gallon of ice cream, but it smells and tastes exactly like honeysuckle.

A little bit of the ice cream goes a long way, though.

Begs a question, though: what’s the most unusual flavor of ice cream you’ve ever tried?

Bunch of stuff on Twitter, and new things on Tumblr.