Prairie

Celebrating Mia

I attended a very special party this weekend - complete with champagne, jazz singer, canapes, lots of friends and laughter ! It was in celebration of one of my good friend's birthday - Mia's birthday.  

This is Mia - she's ever so posh !  She wears a lot of Vivienne Westwood designs.

She's also one of the nicest women I've ever been blessed to meet.

She has a cute habit, of expressing herself with her hands. 

Mia loves jewelry and has really good taste.  Hopefully some of it (good taste) will rub off on me soon.

This jazz band, was quite good and I discovered when visiting with the songstress, that she was American. She convinced me that I needed to purchase on of the band's CD's for £10.  And because I loved their opening song - "all that jazz" - so much, I said YES !!  I listened to the CD today.  I think it sounds much better after about six glasses of champagne.  What was I thinking ?!

Mia's sister - Julia Francis - and friend Sally.  Two more posh birds.

Sally has a great face - so expressive.

A lovely, warm, sunshine filled day, shared with good friends.

Corinne and Mia - looks like trouble to me.

Neil and Sally.

Vivienne came all the way from Bordeaux, France - just to point a finger at me !

Actually, I think she likes to point at people and things - she's so cute !

Yummy !  Cake.

Okay - I got a bit distracted.

I happened to see this little buster - he busy working out how to use a racket and a ball. 

And distracted again by the Pub's Mascot Puppy Dog - another cute little buster. 

Mia hugging daughters - Amy and Emma.

No more champagne for you - young lady !!

I think Mia had a great time - what do you think ?

Blurry is as blurry does - you think as the daughter of a Publican, I could handle more than two glasses of champagne.  Anyway, Mia was a delight to follow with the camera. If only I was seeing straight.

The setting was so pretty.

Happy Birthday Mia !!  Thank you for being such a great friend.  

And she's off ......

 

Tapped

A few days ago, I received an email from my friend Peggy, who lives in Montana. 

She recommended  a link to a TV documentary on bottled water. I felt pangs of guilt while watching it. I drink the stuff and although I recycle the plastic containers, I've always wondered if those petroleum based bottles genuinely do get re-incarnated.  The Telegraph, printed an article about plastic - exposing  facts that these containers are worth practically nothing and that England struggles to find a company that will buy them. In the end, they get shipped off the Isle (which costs a fortune) and then some other poor country gets to admire them in "their" landfill. WE pay THEM to haul IT away. How crazy is that ?!

This is a disturbing video, a real eye opener. After watching it, I'm seriously wanting to get a water filter on the kitchen tap. If that's not enough, more on plastic: The U.S. Mayo Clinic advises strongly drinking from plastic water bottles, especially those that are left in the heat. And also, cooking in plastic containers or with plastic wrap as it's  extremely toxic. The heat leaches all sorts of toxins and hormone type substances from the plastic and this is absorbed directly into body tissue.  This is more so a problem for women as it's been positively linked to breast cancer. Remember when the medical experts said that coffee was bad for you ? Now they say a little caffeine is good.  Sometimes these people make my head spin.  But I do believe this Tapped Trailer is worthy of a watch.  

Here's a link to their official website, which has a plethora of information.

http://www.tappedthemovie.com/

Food Inc.

I saw this trailer on my Apple Mac recently and really hope that it will make it to the cinemas here in England.  I love food, good food - and I have the womanly curves to prove it.  For a long time during my fitness and body building craze, "fast food" was like a dirty word to me.  But if I were to make those foods at home, from scratch, I think I would enjoy eating a few french fries and a burger. Maybe a baked potato instead as I was never too keen on french fries. Fries (just my opinion) have the consistency of chewing a candle - waxy and greasy. Oh - and let's not forget a nice German beer to have along with that burger and fries !!  You know me and my beer obsession.

I was very blessed during my childhood to have a Mum who had time to make everything from scratch.  My family owned and operated restaurant(s) for close to thirty years, offering fresh, homemade soups, breads, stews, beef roasts, coleslaw and salads, potato  and a variety of ethnic foods - Norwegian, German, Polish and Russian recipes that were handed down for generations. These were the people that migrated and settled on the plains of North Dakota.  And because I grew up around food-gurus and pastry artisans - I make an awesome apple pie ! Now-a-days, many children are not as fortunate to have their Mum stay home and nurture them with wholesome, homemade meals. The old fashioned Mum role has had to take a back seat to financial demands for the survival of the family. So pizza, has become the staple meal on many tables. 

I hope you find this trailer interesting - it really made me  pause and think a bit more more about what it is, that we actually shove into our gobs everyday.  Food is a blessing. 

Birthday In The Meadow

Sunday last, I spent the afternoon taking photos of a celebration.  It was Raff's 21st birthday. Raff's Mum, my good mate - Corinne - organised this lovely get together in picturesque, Grantchester Meadows.  I could say that this meadow and the surrounding area is steeped in history, but what inch of England isn't ?! 

I lunched and drank champagne and very possibly walked on the very same bit of earth that was trod on by Virginia Woolf, Rupert Brooke, Sylvia Plath, Lytton Strachey and E M Forester and so many other notables. I love the Bloomsbury group and have devoured many a book about their lives, loves and indiscretions. They were, quite the people in their day.

This is the path that leads down to the meadow.  

Right next to where we planned to set up the buffet table, I noticed this beautiful old tree full of character and sprouting this splendid growth of bright, yellow fungi - high up on the trunk. It looked grand indeed with all the bikes parked against it.

Sadly, it was a victim of someone's heinous act - they had sliced one of the fungi growth clean off the trunk.

I think if this tree could talk - it would say "I'm never lonely!"

I should tell you, that two summers ago I was served a glass of Pimm's over ice. Sickly sweet - I hated it ! But this Sunday, I was in for a totally new way of drinking Pimm's.  I thought it was just a sissy's drink.  I was about to learn the power of Pimm's. I had just three little servings and it about laid me out under that fungi tree.

The secret ingredients: orange, strawberry, blueberry, lemon, cucumber and the secret weapon - mint leaf.

Mix with fizzy lemonade and viola' - I wonder if the Bloomsbury crowd imbibed on this cocktail ? Could this be the reason why they were always skinny dipping in the River Cam ?

I spied these little two little madams in their Sunday go-a-walking frocks. I was a bit cross-eyed by now.

Because I had some liquid courage by now, I sauntered on over the meadow to investigate what this man was painting.  He agreed to letting me take his photo - under conditions that I not show his face. Don't worry Michael, your identity is safe with me.

I love the ancient trees that grow in England. When I first lived on this island, I dreamt of the legendary Tree Man. A mystical, magical dream of a man whose arms morph into branches and whose feet petrify into a tree trunk. He looked like a wild man, with long, thick, black, uncombed hair and fierce eyes. He was surrounded by mist and creatures of the forest. When he spoke it was thunderous and made my heart beat like crazy. It was a powerful dream and now, whenever I look at a tree, I think of him. I wonder if I were to put my ear to the trunk - would he speak to me ? 

The guests were arriving now - young, beautiful and spirited - twenty strong.

He's like a young Fabio !  Yummy !!  They never made them like this when I was in school.

I ate almost an entire serving of this desert and then found out there was cream in it. I'm allergic to dairy.

I was having a great time and then THEY showed up !  A clump of cloned cows.

He's licking his lips - I think he wanted some birthday cake.  

And what a cake it was ! Just so you know - I did not model for the frosting decorations.

The Birthday Girl.

 

I'm closing with a stanza by Rupert Brooke, because he said it so beautifully -

"Ah God ! To see the branches stir

Across the moon at Grantchester !

To smell the thrilling-sweet and rotten

Unforgettable, unforgotten

River-smell, and hear the breeze

Sobbing in the little trees.

Say, do the elm-clumps greatly stand

Still guardians of that holy land ?"

Thanks for reading Prairie !

Numbers

Life is frantic - a whirlwind of priorities, responsibilities and expectations, coming at us from all sides. Pulled from post to pillar, we forget birthdays, anniversaries, lose contact with best friends and favourite blood kin. We watch our children grow ( too fast ) - That advice my Mum gave me, about putting a brick on the head of my daughters to keep them from growing - does not work.

And adding to this frenzied pace of life - we have all these numbers we're expected  to remember. Reduced to a number - do you ever feel that way ?  I have a home phone number, a mobile number, a library number, a British NHS number, an American  Social Security Number, a passport number, a multitude of pin numbers I must recall for computer web-site's such as, my Ebay account and a vast selection of websites I shop from.  Let's not forget - two bank account numbers, pin numbers for credit cards, my bra size, ring size, shoe and dress size and darn it anyway -  my age !!  That, is one number I'd like to forget. But life and numbers are intertwined. Life really is reduced to, the science of numbers. I think if I were labeled a number - I would be a "Three." I think it's a quirky little number. How about you - what number would you be and why ?  

I listened to radio programme just this week, where the guest speaker was saying, that in the near future every person on earth will be required to get a chip under their skin - similar to how they chip cats and dogs. No more remembering all those numbers, only the chip number. Creepy. 

So because I understand how much of your time is taken up trying to recall all of these personal numbers, I've reduced the photos, so as to not waste too much of your time today.  Little photos - quick glances - more time to think about those numbers.

 

Regarding the little contest and free card give-away (see my previous post: I Dreamt Of Paris) I've just sent a beautiful, La Pêche photo card, to Nadine Laman, a brilliant author who lives in Phoenix, Arizona.  She gave the correct answer to why a particular painting was my favourite.   I had quite a few answers of: "because her butt makes your butt look smaller."  This answer, technically speaking, was also correct.  But the real reason I liked that painting - was the hat. She's wearing a beautiful straw hat !  In the future, I ask that you please refrain from mentioning my butt in any responses. Ouch ! Thanks to everyone who voted. 

Here's the link to Nadine's website.  She is truly dedicated and passionate about writing. 

http://www.nadinelamanbooks.com/

Well - my number's up. Until next time - thanks for reading Prairie.

The Longest Way

In 2003, whilst still a student at university, Christoph Rehage had the gumption to walk from Paris, to his home in Hanover, Germany.  In November of 2007 - on his 26th birthday - he set off on a another journey. This time, he intended to walk from Beijing, China to Hanover, Germany.  An admirable goal of 4000 kilometers (2485 miles) He never made it to his destination - but did, while away an entire year trekking the panoramic vistas of China - journaling his adventure in a five minute cascade of facial flickers on You Tube. The video has become a smash hit amongst *Tube-ies (*my nickname for Tubelophiles) 

In 2003, this Prairie Person, spent little more than a month in Nepal - endured arduous climbing, showered maybe four times total, ate food that I didn't recognize (was it really yak meat?) and if I wasn't constipated, I was dashing behind any tree or rock I could find - with a serious case of the troubles. My nomadic trip up the Everest Trail, was one of the most challenging things I've ever done, and like Christoph Rehage, it enlightened me - spiritually. I witnessed the vastness of this planet and the diversity of other cultures, I saw indescribable suffering, inspiring horizons and fierce forces of nature. Whilst Christoph grew a straggled beard - by the time I reached home, I had some exceptionally hairy legs. 

Most people are satisfied to stay safely tucked in - in their carefully constructed routines and that's okay - not criticizing anyone here for it.  Walking across a country carrying your world in a rucksack on your back, is not for everyone. But for those of you who have always dreamt of doing it - stop dreaming and go out and do it - eat weird and wonderful things, yodel from a mountaintop, pray with a holy man, squat behind big boulders if you can find them , celebrate life ! Then send me an email and some photos - I'd love to hear about it !  

Here's a link to Christoph's blog:

http://www.thelongestway.com/20080618/谢老师-teacher-xie.html

I Dreamt Of Paris

I had an unnerving dream last night - to be honest, it was a nightmare. I won't tell you what it was about so as to protect the innocent. But I think there should be a law about ex-husbands being allowed to romp through your dream-scape. So let's pretend that I dreamt of Paris instead. I love Paris !  It is, one of the most beautiful cities on the planet Earth.  Although I visit several times a year, I frequently take the wrong train or get off too early and then have to walk.  But if you must walk - I can't think of a more glorious place to mosey.  So what would a Paris dream look like in my strange and wondrous little noggin ?  Well .....

I think I could live in the Louvre - after all, there's plenty of room - I'm just an itty-bitty thing and wouldn't take up much space.  I tour the Louvre, every time I visit Paris - also the Musee D'Orsay, a lovely old train station which houses beautiful classics of art.  I wish I know more about art. 

For instance, I can tell you only one true fact about this painting: The lady is NOT directing traffic.  I think it has something to do with a genocide of infants.  The vogue in art it seems - back in the day - was to dangle the breasts for everyone to see.  I do think we women are beautiful - with our curves and bumps. 

But always, the puppies are roaming free.  Sculptures mesmerize me. I could sit and look at a statue for a very long time.  Now this is the highest quality of genuine art.  Truly representative of the Masters. 

Last time to the Louvre, this exhibition was no longer on display. I think I first saw it back in 2007.  The significance of these men holding clocks, has to be something very deep, cosmic and symbolic - Freudian even. If you were to explain it to me - my pea brain would not get it. I like it simply because it's quirky. (smiley face here)

Now I relate to this lady.  I sleep exactly like this and look just as angelic and beautiful (including the halo) but I prefer sleeping in a bed. I think perhaps - she's been very naughty - because someone has tied her up and left her in this puddle.

The dream continues and I'm in the heart of it now - everyone's a blur.

For a second there, I thought I knew him.

This photo above, is my favourite. Can you guess why ? If you can guess correctly, I will send you one of my photo cards to where ever you live.  In case there are multiple correct answers, I will let my hair stylist, Darren,  draw the winner. Good luck !

The first time I saw Winged Victory, I got all choked up and the tears flowed. It was so damned beautiful. Displayed at the top of a very tall stairwell and set atop a majestic plinth - the sight of her caused me to reel and bend with every emotion in my body.  I need to take one more look. Breathtaking !

I'm flying back and forth between museums now. But it's my dream so I'm allowed to do that. And we're back to the breasts again !!  They are exquisite aren't they ?  I meant the "painting" as a whole. Today, some might regard all this nudity as porn. Where are artists that can paint like this, where have they gone to ? Go away Damien Hirst, with your so called art of dead, dissected and stuffed, formaldehyde soaked sharks,sheeps and cows ! You can go stuff yourself and you can keep your  rubbish art.  What goes around comes around - remember the Blood Heads ? They called that art too.  It's all subjective.

Okay - she does not look happy at all.  Another one who must've been naughty - hence the hand cuffs. Good golly and tsk, tsk. Looking at her is just like when I watch East Enders - life is good in comparison.

These two look like single parents - maybe we should introduce them.  I hope I've not offended any serious art lover(s), reading this posting of Prairie. My attitude is a bit silly tonight.   I worship art, as much as I worship "my" cows. I really do love it. In my dream, I'm leaving Paris now and this is what I see as I melt away from my hallucination. I'm lifting away from the Louvre and out to the sidewalks of Paris. Oh la la !

I so want to live in this house !!

Thank you for reading Prairie - if you enjoyed my little blog, please share the love !  Au revoir !

Holywell

Happy June 1st everyone ! It's good to be home to St. Ives after a three week holiday in America. I'm back just in time to bathe in the lovely temperate, summer sunshine - let's hope we get more of the yellow rays this year as the last two summers have not felt like the season should be. I happened to experience a wicked 106 degree -41 Celsius whilst in Phoenix, Arizona - Lordy Mama !!  And that's nothing - Phoenix can see temps well into 46 Celsius and beyond. I know I complain about the cold, damp weather of England, but 106 and above is too much for me !  Yes - a walk along the green, wooded countryside is just what this Prairie needed.  And so "over the river and through the woods" to Holywell we will go !! There and back - Holywell, is about a five mile walk from St. Ives.  Along the way, I passed by the Ivo Lakes - is this not the most gorgeous lake ?

Now I know that all villages and towns have the old historic church, but Holywell, has one of the most serene and dearest churches I've ever come across.  It is a church with special character about it. Plant me there please - under one of those tall, shading trees ! Right next to that fat cow in the meadow.

The road that follows the river has some very pretty cottages and flower gardens !

I saw this purple house - not so pretty or amusing - just a bit of a surprise really. Wonder if there was a special sale on purple paint that week. Don't they have laws against this in England ?  Everyone who likes this purple house, please send me an email telling me why. Right outside the purple house was a post box in dire need of paint restoration - see it there mounted on the green post ?

Here are some of the houses I saw along the way to the pub.  I'm so ready for that beer now !

I love how this house seems to peek out over the hedge line.

Not sure if this is the age of the house or the simply the house number. Notice the teeny, tiny window ?! 

First a purple house then this pink one !  Adorable.  

At last !! The Ferry Boat Inn is said to be one of England's most haunted pubs and also listed in the Domesday Book.  Supposedly the pub is haunted by the spirit of a broken-hearted young girl.  Beer please !

Walking towards the fields that lead back to St.Ives, I had to glance back and take one last look back at that little stone church.  The fat cow I like so much is in the grassy area right behind that majestic willow tree. 

What is a perfect day ? My definition would be: walking the pastoral meadows of England, sunshine smiling down on your face and a very cold beer ! Does not get much better than this. 

Thanks for reading Prairie !

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holywell,_Cambridgeshire

http://www.pub-explorer.com/cambs/pub/oldferryboatholywell.htm