Susan was gracious enough to find some questions for me when I was late in responding to be interviewed. You get what you beg for. She really found some good Q’s for me, and here they are.

I’ve had to think about this one! So many wonderful places to go; so many wonderful things to capture through the eye of my camera. I’ve had to wonder if I might like to go back to some of the wonderful places we visited while living in Europe. Looking back on all the photos I took back then, I don’t think I did a very good job of capturing the very essence of places like the little medieval village, Crémieu, that we lived in near Lyon, France. Or the vacation to the serene beauty of the Seychelle Islands. But you can only take just so many photos of villages, beaches, and water, and I think I like taking images of animals best of all.

So, in the end I would have to choose somewhere and something I have never done before and always wanted to do: a true African safari. We had a small taste when we stayed on a private game reserve near Kruger National Park in South Africa, and went out on early morning and evening game drives with the gamekeeper. We did manage to track a mother elephant and her baby—on foot—which was very scary. But alas, no zoom lens on the camera = not very close photos. And, we never got to see lions.

My ideal capture would be a pride of lions—not hunting—but as a family hanging out together. But my best capture would be the photo of the elephant stampede—just before they changed direciton and ran over the top of me. (I have a tendancy to not pay attention to my surroundings when I’m trying to get a good photo.)

Hoo-boy, where did you get these questions from? Well, let me see what I can do with this one ...
I was sitting outside by the pool, almost nodding off, when I noticed a chill in the air. Pesky cloud-go away! But wait—it wasn’t a cloud. Something was blocking the sun. There was a brilliant flash of light and before I knew it, I wasn’t sitting by the pool anymore. I was looking down at the planet Earth receding in the distance. Oddly enough, I wasn’t upset or worried. It was almost like I had been tranquilized, but yet all my senses were still sharp.

As far as I could discern I was the only person (or being) in the room. It was small and cubicle-like with one porthole window. The sides of the room were smooth and reflective. No door was visible. The only thing in the room that could be construed as “furniture” was a bench-like protusion that was part of the wall. I sat down. When I did, a whirring noise started up and lights flashed up and down the wall. I felt a tingling sensation in my limbs, but it was not uncomfortable. The whirring noise and lights ended abrubtly. I got up and looked out the sole window. Awesome. The sight before my eyes was not our known solar system. No less than tree bright objects similar to our sun hung in the blackness, while planets and moons too numerous to count seemed to be spinning just out of each other’s way.

Whatever type of vehicle I was being conveyed in seemed to be descending towards a planet with numerous moons. Before I knew what was happening, the craft touched down on a solid surface. My cubicle suddenly opened.

To read more you’re going to have to ask what happened next ... are you reading this?


Well, I don’t really qualify for either one, but it would probably be a super model over a famous athlete. I don’t do sports very well and always tried to get out of P.E. when I was in school. I was always falling down and skinning my knee (always the right knee), getting hit in the cheekbone by a backward swing of a baseball bat, and other things you don’t really want to know about. Plus, I’m too lazy for the rigors of constant training and pushing my body to the limit. The only thing I was really ever any good at is badminton. So, maybe tennis would work. Years ago when Chris Everett was popular people used to tell me that I looked like her. I never took it as a compliment. I might be able to capitalize on that. But, no.

I can see me being pampered by a make-up artist and wearing couture clothing, swanning down a cat-walk with that slitty-eyed angry/pouty look that seems to be so popular. This is only possible, of course, with a wave of a fairy godmother’s wand that would take off a few years and add some much needed leg. Otherwise I would end up looking more like Ugly Betty. Which really isn’t all that bad except for the eyebrows and bad choice of clothing ...

Okay, when I first read the question I thought you meant L.A., as in California. But, I think you meant LA as in Louisiana? I’m sure L.A. has its fair share of voodoo priestesses, but they are probably more prevalent in LA. If you meant L.A. CA, the answer is easy. I ain’t a-goin’, and I don’t care if she casts a spell on me. However, if it’s back to New Orleans, I’d go. She probably just wants to take me back to her bayou and make me an initiate. But if instead she’s planning on offering me up as a sacrifice or using me as a human pin-cushion, and then I’d have to say no and accept the consequences. [OUCH! I proclaim, as I try to figure out the stabbing pain in my thumb while my hair is on fire.]

I would love to finally see the bird I keep hearing at the crack of dawn each morning. It’s driving me crazy. It has such a beautiful, crystal clear song! Yesterday I finally dragged myself out of bed and over to the window to see if I could see it, but it was too dark. We have so many trees it’s like finding a needle in a haystack unless you can pinpoint exactly where the song is coming from. So, I’d be thrilled to see this bird sitting in the most prominent tree by the bird feeding station, singing, so that I can identify it finally. There are so many different birds here in NJ that I hear and don’t know what they are. One by one I’m tracking them down.

Seeing my forsythia hedge in full, glorious bloom wouldn’t be a bad thing to see either. It’s slow to come out this year—too cold! And with a year-end nor’easter bearing down on us tomorrow I think the forsythia is smarter than all of us!

The calendar says that spring has arrived. I think not. Our grass has greened up some with the drenching inch of rain we got yesterday, but the thermometer hovers at a chilly 39 degrees. The forsythia hedge in front of our house was ablaze with bloom this time last year when we moved in. As you can see by the photo above, the buds are there—and have been for the past week or so—but they are reluctant to pop. I can certainly understand why. It feels more like winter than it does spring.

They say another rough storm for us on Sunday with howling wind and torrential rains, then snow overnight. What? Don’t do that, I have to catch a plane to Las Vegas on Monday. Stop it—enough already! I have the pool scheduled for opening in one month. This kind of weather was not quite what I was expecting.

I didn’t expect to see the bears in my back yard last night at 7:30 p.m. either. After not seeing them for over a week I had grown lax about looking out first before letting the dogs out. Not a good plan. Two seconds after I let Daisy out she started barking furiously. That could only mean one thing: bears. I looked out to see a bear clinging to the big oak tree. Daisy was squatting to pee and barking. I called her and she came running in. I could see two other bears in the woods, so it was Ursa. I ran for the camera, but of course I was too late.

Somehow it seems normal to have bears in the yard. How strange is that? Last year when we moved here I had no expectations that we would see and come in contact with bears so often. And, I would never have thought I’d actually enjoy having bears in my yard. I would have freaked out! Now they are part of our wildlife family. I worry about them when they are not around. Silly, isn’t it?

I didn’t expect our house in Colorado to to still be on the market nearly one year later. It’s such a lovely house. I cant imagine why it’s still sitting there unsold! Very disappointing and worrisome. While we are still burdened with it, we can’t make any of the small upgrades we so want to do to this house. Please send some positive house-selling vibes our way.

As for my expectations of Las Vegas ... well ... I’m trying not to have any preconceived notions in my head about what it’s really like. I DO expect the weather to be warm and sunny (the weather map says so). I DO expect to have a great time. I DO expect to blog every day from there and bring a little Vegas to all of you. It’s Lynne—Live from Las Vegas!

I also expect spring isn’t too far away. At least I’d like to think so.

While I am working on my five interview answers for Susan in WA, (almost done, Susan!) I thought I’d post about the latest Gracious Parcel squares I’ve completed for Jackie’s on-going charity blanket project. When Jackie contacted me and told me she was coming up a bit short on squares for the next blanket I knew I couldn’t let her down. This time I did three different squares; two of each kind. In case you don’t remember, she asks for the squares to in some way represent the countryside where she lives. Since this blanket was going to be given in the spring, I wanted my squares to reflect things found in the spring and summer.

Lilacs are one of my favorite things, so it was only natural that one of the squares would be dedicated to those fragrant blooms. It took me some time to find the right yarn for representing lilacs, but I found the perfect fit. I experimented with different stitch patterns until I hit on the right one (the box stitch) to make it look like clusters of lilac flowers. It’s soft and smooshy-feeling to the touch.

I had some variegated blue yarn that came with my original “Learn to Knit” kit and thought it would do well to represent a river. When I started playing with the yarn, it just begged for the chevron stitch to make it look like ripples. (The chevron stitch forms a “v”.)

I also wanted to represent the fruiting bushes around her area and even though the yarn is not quite the correct color of red for raspberries, it works. The checkerboard pattern worked up to look like lots of small pints of raspberries (or at least to my imagination it does).

I enjoy doing the squares. They work up quickly and keep my mind and hands busy.  It’s a creative adventure from start to finish: picking out the yarn; choosing the pattern stitch; designing and making the tags. And best of all, it’s for a good cause. You can read more about how you can contribute on Jackie’s blog. She now has a photo up of the last completed blanket. Take a look—it’s awesome! I can see all three of my squares sewn into this work of art created by knitter’s hands from all over the world. It’s a good thing to be a part of.

One of the first Christmas presents given to me by my husband was a hand-crank pasta machine. Through the years this pasta machine has given us great joy from the wonderful pasta that comes from using it. Just one thing—although it was a gift to me, I have never used it! Rick makes all the pasta in this house. It just always seemed too fussy for me. But Rick likes to cook and he does it very well. He likes to make gourmet meals [we auctioned one off for United Way one year for $265.00 for four people] and I am usually the sous-chef. In other words, I get the chef a glass of wine, grate cheese, get ingredients out, do the washing up, etc.

We don’t eat much pasta anymore, but once in awhile we get a craving. One of my favorites is ravioli stuffed with ground veal, spinach, and Parmesan cheese. It’s sheer heaven. Just the smell of the veal and spinach mixture cooking on the stove is almost as good as eating it. You can bring up the memory of exactly how it tastes just by taking in the aroma wafting up from the pan. We used to have difficulty finding ground veal in grocery stores in Colorado, but here it’s as common as hamburger.

I’ve made a few small movies of the process with my new baby camera. I am thrilled at the quality!  The first one (imbedded in this entry below) shows making the sheets of pasta. The other two links are short clips showing the stuffing of the raviolis and the final step. I urge you to follow through and watch all three.

Once boiled, the raviolis are then put in a baking dish, topped with a very simple tomato sauce and Parmesan cheese, and baked in the oven just until the sauce bubbles.
Bon Appétit!

I should have posted these photos a long time ago of the Katrina damage I saw while in New Orleans. I kept searching for the right words to put with them, but those words never formed in my head. Instead, I’ve decided to let the images speak for themselves. [Note: I took all the images from inside the van we were touring in, so they are not the greatest shots in the world.]

The 9th ward. Where neighborhoods once were, driveways lead to nowhere.

All houses had this marking that you see on this garage door. The top of the “X” is the date the house was entered and searched, the left-hand side is the task force that searched it, right-hand side was for number of hazards inside, and finally the bottom of the “X” was for victims (either people or animals).

The lighthouse on Lake Pontchartrain.

In the area where the 17th street canal levee failed, one house still sits abandoned, while right next door life goes on. Many neighborhoods were like this. Some FEMA trailers were parked in driveways while work was being done on houses, while others sat on the foundation of where a house once stood.

I hope these images have had some impact on you. I saw much more of the devastation that Katrina left behind, and every time I try to put it in words I fail. The slogan “We’re coming back” printed on t-shirts and caps tells us that the people of New Orleans have great courage and heart. But as you can see, some people have nothing to come back to.