A Lot of Tea and a Little Sympathy

Posted on May 4, 2012 by vairarenbeth

Having been a tea fan since birth (literally, my mother has this documented), I was not so sure that I would be able to feed my tea house addiction in Arizona.  After all, the pickings were pretty slim and mostly disappointing in the NoCal bay area, so I didn’t have my hopes up.

Never prejudge a place by its weather!  After all, while living in SoCal, I did find two favorites.  Although I am very sad that one of them – Tea and Sympathy in Costa Mesa, California, has closed after an unsuccessful ownership change – the tradition of full menus, great tea selections and a drop in anytime atmosphere is still in force at the Vintage Tea Leaf in Long Beach.  I hope to get there in July to see how it compares to my memory.

So far I have been to two tea houses in Arizona, and both have been a ton of fun.

The closest one to my home is the English Rose Tea Room in Carefree, Arizona.  I’ve been here several times (have even been successful in getting my husband to come with me!) and have never been disappointed.  My favorite point here is that the scones are the hands down best that I have ever had anywhere.  Also, you can buy the tea that is served, and there is quite an extensive list.  Rose-infused black tea is my favorite, although I have become partial to an earl gray/lavender/cornflower mixCustomers have a selection from a lunch or tea menu,  sweet and savory, and there is even a ploughman’s lunch selection for those more interested in heartier fare.

Today the adventure continued with The Spicery in Our 1895 Home in Glendale, Arizona. It touts being the oldest home built in Glendale, and is impeccably preserved with period decorating.  We were comfortable in our window-side table for three.  Modern lunch selections are served from 11AM-1PM, and a full tea service is served at a reservations-only 1PM daily seating.  There is a limited selection of tea and the menu is fixed, but they are more than accommodating if you have diet issues that need to be addressed.  I have to give them 100% for atmosphere.  Scones and sandwiches were served warm, which  was a nice touch.  The shortbread cookie presented with the buttermilk scone was to die for – it melts in your mouth and is the perfect balance of flavor.  Their signature tea is Queen Victoria, which is a black/green/floral blend.  Very smooth. Both my friends loved the experience, and we were the last to leave – the staff was really nice about our lingering.  You know how it is when you get hot on a subject and lose track of time!

Don’t worry, my fascination with tea will never crowd out my occassional yearning for the coffee shop  stop (there are two great places in Cave Creek).  But I am excited at the prospect in checking out all the offerings in the Phoenix metropolitan area!

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Fibers Through Time 2012 – Playtime in Phoenix!

Posted on April 22, 2012 by vairarenbeth

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Fibers Through Time 2012 is a conference held every two years by the Arizona Federation of Weavers and Spinners.  It is mainly comprised of workshops addressing various fiber arts (weaving, spinning, tapestry, basket weaving, among others), which are held over a three day period. Having recently transplanted from California, this was the first time I attended this conference.  Typically I don’t sign up for workshops where I have to cart a loom or spinning wheel around since mine aren’t portable.  And there is always some other fiber art that has cross-over applications. So the workshop I attended was Kumihimo – A Gathering of Threads. Our teacher was Linda Germain.

There were eight students total – Connie, Jacquie, Jean, Rita, Judy, Helen, Sandy and me. We all had such a good time!  Linda is a great instructor, and made sure everyone had grasped the concept before jumping to the next step.  Mistakes were fixed, helpful hints provided, and everyone was able to finish their projects.

The first day we learned the basics, and created 3 samples each.  We also started on our braid-in-a-braid necklace, by choosing 3 colors and an 8 strand pattern.  Thirty (30) inches needed to be completed for class the next day, so we worked feverishly – some of us finishing the last inches as “homework” after class.  This class was such a joy and the time flew by – everyone clicked.  It didn’t take too long for us to be joking and prodding our way through class.  “I think I’m going crazy.”  “Well, I’ve been there and back again – is there anything I can help you with?” is a sample of the fun exchanges during the class.

And what a lot of talent.  I am always amazed on how a core sample of tools and supplies inspires so many different combinations and approaches from people learning as a group.  Of course Linda provided a lot of inspiration from all her samples – quite impressive work!

The second day we learned the mysteries behind braiding within a braid, and completed our necklaces, endcaps and all.  Excess cords serve as a visual to our notated patterns.  In the afternoon we designed and completed bracelets.

On the last day we learned Anda Gumi, which is the flat braiding version, and can also be executed on a marudai.  I will not even attempt to explain any of this process!  There are plenty of sources online, as well as local stores that sponsor classes.

Note: Apologies for the poor quality on some of the pictures – not my metiere!

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Fiber Friday with teacatweaves

Posted on April 20, 2012 by vairarenbeth

No time for the wicked, weary, bashful or brazen!  Fiber Friday – facing our WIPs (works in progress) head on…

Rug Project on LoomAfter having finished a sample and getting feedback from the study group, I continued with a one-color version of the rug.  This poor thing has been languishing on my loom for at least three weeks, although I have made considerable progress earlier this week.  I will finish it off, and then double it up and sewing a border edge all around.  If it is too slippery I may look into getting something to attach underneath to keep it in place.  There’s a front door where it can find a home.

linen/cotton pullover

Cecliy Pullover

Of course I also have a knitting project in work.  For this project I am finally using my MaggieKnits linen/cotton weave (which I bought direct from Maggie Jackson at two different classes at Stitches West) to create a transition sweater.  I had a lot of trouble finding a pattern I was brave enough to risk on it, not knowing how much yarn I had to work with (the balls were not marked). Pretty good on the progress, which I only started last week!

Spinning

Merino mixed color roving

My backfill for when I get stuck in a project is always spinning – and it will get knitted or woven into something, eventually.  I bought this roving at CNCH2010 – the color combo reminded me of a sweater I had back in the 70’s.  I am not sure if there would be enough for a sweater, but it would make a great woven scarf.  I have about 1/3 of the roving spun so far.


Finers Through TIme WorkshopAt the Fibers through Time Conference 2012 I braided my first kumihimo samples.  Tomorrow we will be making “braids within braids” and I have finished my 30″ insert.  It’s a fun class and we have a good group.  Lots of creative juices flowing – love the inspiration in the class!  I have two days left – Sunday we’ll be learning flat braiding, which sealed the deal on picking this workshop.  It is incredible what can be done with kumihimo, and my teacher, Linda Germain, has some incredible samples of her work.  Today I had a turn braiding on her marudai, which is so much more awesome than the disk. Very meditative, in a complex but simple way.

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In Search of Acacia, or Caught in the Thorns

Posted on April 16, 2012 by vairarenbeth
Acacia on Jomax

Acacia with Saguaro

I am not a morning person.  And I have been able to indulge in my slow-moving attitude through the winter months.  But with April has come spring weather and an earlier sunrise. Quails, Flickers, Desert Wrens and all sorts of birds I haven’t been able to recognize (yet) chirp away at the sun and move me to get up and check it all out.  As I sit here in my office, I spotted quails (or noodle heads, as we affectionately call them) walking the top of the fence, in a single file, with their usual intent of getting from one place to another. They are the most perseverant things I know.

Desert vegetation has a distinct feel – and I have finally discovered the acacia, one of the local variety that I had been searching for in vain.  It seems that (according to the books I researched) the only time of year you can really tell them apart from mesquite is during the spring, when they bloom.  Acacia are like the cherry blossom trees of the desert, sprouting their little yellow or white balls before the leaves pop out.  At this time of year mesquites dump all their leaves and after a week or so of sheer nakedness, then they burst out their foliage. Palo Verdes fill in their foliage and bloom like crazy soon afterward.  But I am totally struck by the beauty of a spring acacia.  Clean contrast, elegant lines.

Back to the morning. One confession I must make, though, is that my early burst of energy and good intentions usually falls flat as I get side tracked and side-lined into all the things I want to do. I manage get one thing or two things done if I use one as an excuse to not do another (psychology at its best).  Housework is usually a good activity to avoid.  That said, this weekend I finished reading three (3) books, starting knitting a linen sweater with a pattern I found in the local library (and I have more patterns that I can shake a stick at at home, ha ha), helped my husband trim the shrubbery in the back, all while bemoaning that my ironing pile was looking more full than my closet. It has been said that success is the best revenge.  I suppose that depends on your perspective.

So this morning I have been concentrating on getting my goodreads site updated, cleaning out a bit of my email, going for a neighborhood walk and then maybe getting that ironing out of the way before I finally attack that rug project that is on my weaving loom, so I can cut it off and dress it up with a more fun project instead. I may get distracted by the sweater, or one of the nine library books I have piled on the side (my husband is convinced that I am trying to read every book in the library, but in all fairness two of the books are knitting patterns). This Monday does have some anticipation in it, however, since this week I am going to have my first Arizona Weaving Conference experience!  Starting Thursday, I will be going to the Fiber Through Time Conference, and take a workshop in kumihimo.  More on that after it happens.

In the meantime, I am ready to get that metabolism going!

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Turning the Page – in Arizona…

Posted on April 7, 2012 by vairarenbeth

Road trip!  This time it was an opportunity to take an overnighter to Page, which is about a five hour drive from home.  Back in the 90’s Denny and I had headed up 17 North, visiting the south rim at Grand Canyon and Montezuma’s castle. But I really didn’t remember much of the freeway driving (I was probably asleep – it was in the sleep apnea phase of my life).  So I was pretty excited at reloading the memory banks and checking out new areas.  We planned on meeting up with friends from Utah, and they would play golf while I noodled around town.

One the way there, the first order of business was finding a breakfast stop in Flagstaff.  The GPS POI search was not very helpful – but we happened on the Little America Restaurant in south Flagstaff, at the juncture of the 17 and 40.  Talk about a huge gas-and-go stop!  The egg sandwich was good, and we moved on quickly so avoid dragging our feet on the way to our destination.

Driving on the 40 and 89 feels like visiting the moon.  There are some interesting rock formations and some literal names for the places we passed (such as Gray Mountain).  The perspective is amazing.  The sad part is thinking that the state probably has most of it earmarked for development.  But that’s another story.  It’s just that seeing all this wide open space is always a heart-filling experience, having grown up in a town environment, where one town started where the other ended.  In New Jersey, our backyard ended with a view of the back end of another yard, and the front was a view of the other side of the street.  In a lot of ways the town/city structure enforced a myopic view of the world while I was growing up.  I was insulated by whatever direct route was needed to get to school, the library, the deli, the park, to my aunts’ and uncle’s homes, and “down the avenue” to the supermarket for my Mom.

Now, after having visited my mother’s home town in Italy, and cities such as Venice, Florence, Perugia, etc., I can understand the European attraction to the American heartland.  Visiting Horseshoe Bend and Glen Canyon Dam, we ran into a lot of foreign visitors. A nice couple from Amsterdam asked us about the proper use of the term “dude”.  They spoke perfect English! It seemed that everywhere we went in town – the hotel, Bean’s Gourmet Coffee Shop, the tourist sites, there were foreign-born tourists.  According to local press, the Glen Canyon Dam is one of the top draws for foreign travelers (proximity to the Grand Canyon makes this no accident).  It boasts 3 million visitors a year.

Dinner with our friends was at the Dam Bar and Grill, which seems to be a popular hangout.  The next evening we hit Strombolli’s, where they were very friendly and accommodating with the menu – I couldn’t make up my mind between the stuffed eggplant parmigiano and the primavera lasagna, so they gave me both!  And they were both good.

The next day we packed up and headed out to Lee’s Ferry, after crossing the Navajo Bridge (when, oh when are we going to update that name to Dine, their true name?) and stopping at Paria Beach on the Colorado River.  Some really awesome geology is going on in this space.  Big sky, constantly changing weather, and the feeling of insignificance in a significantly large space all play into accepting that we are only a blink of an eye, after all.  Might as well enjoy our time and not get caught up in all the silliness that goes on everyday.  It is just amazing that all those people were so brave to come out here in the middle of nowhere, modern conveniences translating into what you really need to survive.  Less is indeed more.  And there is a subtle blending of the Dine presence with the American intrusion – it seems that some sort of balance through agreement has been reached.  The question is how well balanced, how deep the commitment.

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It’s all about the horses – Fiesta Days Parade in Cave Creek

Posted on April 3, 2012 by vairarenbeth

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I love horses.  You can find me at the paddocks whenever we go to the race track, checking out those beauties up close.  One of the first movies I remember vividly is National Velvet.  Shadowfax in Lord of the Rings is gorgeous.  So when I read that Cave Creek was going to have their annual rodeo, I started checking it out.

After a lot of searching on the internet, checking out all the local papers and leaving numerous phone messages that were not returned, it seemed that Cave Creek doesn’t want out of towners to show up at their rodeos and parades.  Neither the web site nor the Facebook page identified the parade route or anything beyond the start times for the kid’s mutton-busting event and the actual rodeo.  Hmmm.  Well, we could always check out the parade – after all, it was supposed to be in celebration of the rodeo, and you can’t have a rodeo without horses – no brainer, right?  That said, we piled into the car and headed out to Cave Creek in the direction of the end of the parade route (that would be Harold’s).  The traffic directors, when asked, basically instructed us to park wherever we could find a space.  Interesting.  At least that wasn’t too hard to do.  Soon we had a great view along the parade route.  It was a good show, lasted over an hour, and really showed some fun local flavor.

Afterwards, most of the restaurants at and near Harold’s were packed, so we headed out to the Wagon Wheel just south of the town center, and had a great breakfast, Cave Creek style.

Maybe one of these days the organizers will figure out how to properly publicize the event and get a really great turn-out instead of a private party.

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“Our sky..with clouds in such a hurry to be somewhere else…”

Posted on March 29, 2012 by vairarenbeth

Alexander McCall Smith, who is responsible for the quote which is the title of today’s blog, is quite a prolific Scottish writer.  The 44 Scotland Street series is just so wonderful.  I realize that books fall into uncountable categories – there are the ones that you will love no matter how many times you re-read them, the ones that you couldn’t finish if someone paid you, the ones that you couldn’t understand why you liked them in the first place and why were you re-reading it now, the ones you will never like no matter what.

For this time in my life, I totally love this series and fell in love with the characters whether I liked them as people, or not.  Each character takes his or her lead as the narrative documents the daily lives of some individuals in Edinburgh, Scotland.  Sometimes their lives intersect, many times they do not.  It is not so much each event in and of itself that is endearing, but the telling of how communication – both listening and telling – is tempered.  What one was thinking versus what one has said.  It is filled with humor, compassion, and a wonderful perspective of life.

The chapter division give the feel of blog entries.  This gives a journaling perspective to the story – but from a character who is never identified or involved – never judging, condemning or applauding.  Although there is a lot of description of the “Scottish” or “Edinburgh” personality, we are all human in the end, and many of the feelings and expectations are universal.

To quote from Dr. Fairborn in The World According to Bertie, the fourth novel in the series, “Each of us, you see, has a secret Eden, which we feel has been lost.  If we can find it again, we will be happy, but Edens are not easily regained, no matter how hard we look, no matter how desperately we want to find them.”

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Ants are NOT my Friends

Posted on March 27, 2012 by vairarenbeth

Ok.  Dry desert heat and all.  Six months and the first encounter with unwelcome multi-leg visitors, not a bad stat.  But really, why can’t ants just follow the rules of my-space-versus-your-space?  I knew it was pressing fate – it was only a matter of time before I would see an ugly antennaed head calling up the ranks as the rest dutifully fell in line.  At least the sugar bowl was on the table side, and not on the pantry side.

My deep aversion to ants started the summer I was four.  We had a garden in our New Jersey back yard, which included these huge sunflowers that were ripe for the picking.  One day I snuck out to get a first crack at them (before my brothers discovered them and wiped out the crop).  I was so intent on reaching up and picking out the seeds that I had not noticed I was on an ant hill.  It was hot, and I was getting sweaty, so I hadn’t realized that the tickling sensation on my legs from my ankles to under my skirt (I had to be wearing a sun dress) was a mass of those prickly little buggers climbing on my skin.  I don’t know how my mother got me to stop screaming – wiping them only transferred them to my arms.  A long hose-down with cold water, then a bath to make sure they were gone followed.  I woke up in the middle of the night thinking they were still on me.  It’s been a while since I have been a fan of sunflower seeds, just because of association with the whole ordeal.

So now I have a new breed of ants to contend with.  Quite frankly, these Arizona ants are pretty microscopic, compared to the pests I have encountered in Southern California and Northern California.

In Los Angeles in the early 90’s there was a plethora of ants during the drought years, before el Nino and el Nina showed up to wash them all away.  I am talking about the half inch black ants that burst out of the bathroom shower plumbing and make your bathtub look like an Edward Gorey poster.  White Chinese ant chalk, ant traps, all sorts of sprays – none were as effective as boric acid powder.  Is that stuff available anywhere anymore?  (It also works great to reduce eye swelling for puffy lids, by the way.)

In the Northern California bay area, we had a summer of thousands of armies of argentinian ants that were not happy about being displaced by home construction next door.  Those little buggers were incredibly hardy.  They streamed in columns 1 inch wide and kept coming, insecticide or not.  I remember one particular morning I spent about 15 minutes spraying their trail and wiping them up as they came charging like the energizer rabbit.  Trying to get a lead on the trailhead was almost impossible because they came up through the appliance wall in the kitchen.  My cats thought I was trying to feed them a high protein appetizer, and they weren’t buying it.

Of course it didn’t help that we had a common wall with our neighbor’s condo. After surrounding our exterior walls with bait and lining the full interior walls as well (of course we had to make sure the areas were not cat accessible) with powder and that pellet stuff, they finally disappeared.  But like clockwork, for 3 years they would appear in April and not disappear until July.  So much for ant bait.  It made for a long three summers.

So now I am faced with the task of creating a defense plan.  Sure, I’ll let them play in the yard – on the other side of the fence.  But now, after a trip to the store, I have sprayed the exterior and interior and logical points of entry.  There were not enough of them to make a traceable trail. I even doused the anthills we had spotted this past Sunday on the back fence barrier – a harbinger if I ever observed one.  You can be sure this time, however, that it won’t take me long to contact the professionals.    When it comes to ants, it’s them versus me – and there are way more of them than me.

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Guinness Lace

Posted on March 22, 2012 by vairarenbeth

It had been years since I attended a St. Patrick’s Day parade – the traditions were kept up with making Grandma Creegan’s Irish Soda bread and making corned beef and cabbage. But this year we skid-addled to downtown Phoenix and check out the annual parade.

All things Irish bring out the nostalgia in me, having grown up in an Irish neighborhood in New Jersey (you can imagine that Italians stuck out like a sore thumb).  We had both Catholic and Protestant on our block, so it made for quite an interesting combination.  Our block was within hearing distance of the church bells from both denominations.  Underneath it all we all knew that being American was our common thread, and no one argued with that.

For me, it was all the more exciting because that meant sharing celebrations and holidays – including different kinds of foods and the shock of learning that other families did things differently than ours.  It wouldn’t be until my first trip to Dublin that I would be introduced to the pub crawl, real draft Guinness, Black and Tan, Lager and Lime, and Shanties.  But the camaraderie of being American and at the grassroots of an immigrant community is something that I will always cherish.

In Phoenix, the weather cooperated perfectly, and we were not disappointed.  The crowd was small to NYC standards, but it was obvious that there are a lot of Irish in town.  We’ll have to check out the Irish Cultural Center when it is expected to be completed in April. The crowd had just about everybody in it.  There was also a good representation of the town in the parade – who knew there were so many bagpipers in the area?  Irish Wolfhounds, Bassets, Setters and horses were all well represented, too.  Irish dancers, family floats, the Ladies of High Tea and the Roller Derby Ladies all made for some good entertainment.  I have a few pictures posted below.

After an hour and a half of waving and greeting, we turned our sights to the one thing that was missing – beer!  So it was off to the George and Dragon and the satisfying pull of Guinness lace on our glasses.  A salute to a fun day!

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Waiting for the Train

Posted on March 8, 2012 by vairarenbeth

Ever since I can remember, trains have been a source of fascination, comfort and excitement for me.  Growing up New Jersey, my childhood home was two miles from the trains that routed through Newark.  Open windows on summer evenings fused honeysuckle scents with the pull of distance train whistles.  I rode on trains (and the tubes) to NYC and Philadelphia (do all the subway rides count as well?).  And then there was the motherlode in Italy.  My mother, sisters and I travelled by train to Rome.  In 1982 my sister and I hit the train to Venice from Vicenza. But it was in 1995 when I took a solo trip that I crossed the country by train from Milan to Perugia and Venice and points in-between.  Fun.  2004 was a hike between the 5 cities and their associated train stations in Cinque Terre, Italy.

California has a fun train experience as well.  There’s the Amtrak to Del Mar Racing Track (and a double-decker shuttle bus to the track from the station).  Fullerton at Angel Stadium will get you to Santa Barbara.  Up north the San Jose to San Luis Obispo run gets you in to Hearst Castle territory.  And of course CalTrain was the source of my Palo Alto to Belmont work commute, as well as countless rides to downtown San Francisco and parts in-between. BART and the MUNI extend the spider web to service some interesting spots to visit. The Trolly Museum exposes the cables and pulleys that make it all happen for the historic trolleys.

There is something historical and romantic about riding a train.  Whether electric or diesel powered, it has a rhythm and pace of its own that is undeterred by anyone who wishes for faster or slower progress.  Sometimes the scenery is a blur – other times it’s a frame by frame pictorial of the backside of a city or showcasing the countryside.  My work commutes were dominated by the aroma of quickly-cooling coffee in hand, moist and misty morning air both separated and pushed aside by the arrival of the diesel morning giant.  Oil and hot steel assaults on my senses; creaking springs and swaying cars marking the passing time as the wheels slid on the imperfect rails to defined destinations.  Walls of wisteria contrasted with garbage dumps, light industrial plants and school playing fields.

Trains certainly are honored for their role in helping make the West accessible to dreamers and doers in search of a different life.  Wickenburg, Arizona has a model train display in its museum.  And today I discovered that Scottsdale, Arizona has a treasure trove of its own.  The Scottsdale Railroad and Mechanical Society has been working on the preservation of the McCormick-Stillman Railroad exhibit.  There is a formidable display of train stations from all over Arizona both completed and as works in progress.  Members are there, happy to answer questions about their passion.  (I have found the same kind of passion with the railroad enthusiast group located at the Santa Clara, California CalTrain station where they maintain a working display as well).  It was an incredible surprise to see the Raold Amundsen Pullman Car of presidential fame perfectly preserved.  The railcar is displayed as it was in its heyday – kitchen and porter quarters, dining room and sleeping compartments (I was quickly reminded of Hercule Poirot in Murder on the Orient Express).  The lounge and private areas are restored as well, and you walk the corridor that was paced and promenaded by Presidents Hoover, Roosevelt, Truman, and Eisenhower and their staff and guests.  What a warp in time when standing on the rear platform where so many speeches and appearances were shared with the public – you can feel that history and the tension of the presentation, its expectation and the uncertainty of its effect.

Trains are a part of our history, and I hope that they will exist for a long time.  Eventually I’ll take that cross-country trip by rail!

Note: the picture was taken in Cinque Terre, Italy.  It points to the station and places that serve food and drink.

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