Like desperadoes waiting for a call

  

 


From deep in the tunnel of the dream world the lonesome harmonica sang of rusted rails and tangled barbed wire. And then no more. No thunderstorms, no sleet, no itchy wool blankets. No way to find that abandoned mine.

All quiet except for the school bus huffing at the curb. Awareness dawns slowly. The blues harmonica is my phone. So very far away. Under the bed somehow. Or down some mine shaft. And would it ever offer another mournful morning wake-up so I can pinpoint its whereabouts?

And why-oh-why was I supposed to get up on my day off? To leave for Bolivia with Butch and the Kid? To repent a life of judging people who lose or misplace things? To actually wish Beto O'Rourke would call to ask for money so I can find my phone?

Thanks for visiting this wild west dream of locomotives, gunslingers, and bank robbers with twinkly eyes. And, yes, ranch dressing is always good for dipping cold pizza for breakfast.

© 2013-2019 Nancy L. Ruder

Omelet with mushrooms

The Renwick Gallery has become one of my favorite DC destinations, and the current installation of "No Spectators: The Art of Burning Man" is every bit as exciting as "Wonder" for the gallery's reopening in 2015-2016.

As an art teacher I emphasized the fine motor skill of paper folding and the transformations from two to three dimensions that this basic action could create. FoldHaus pushes the limits of size and kinetic movement, and I wish I could have beamed my former students into the exhibit with me.

© 2013-2017 Nancy L. Ruder

Name that emperor!

This Byzantine emperor during the Fourth Crusade was nicknamed for his unibrow or sullen countenance.

Who was Mourtzouphlos?

This 1953 gold record about a city name change brought a  Canadian quartet its first big success.

What is "Istanbul (not Constantinople)?"

His audiobook narration of The House at the Edge of Night received AudioFile Best of 2016 Fiction notice, but his readings of Beautiful Ruins, Last Painting of Sara De Vos, and two Andrew Gross historical thrillers are all outstanding.

Who is Edoard Ballerini?

Two subjects personally revealed as almost completely forgotten by Thomas Madden's history of the city at the center of the world.

What are history and geography?

This goofy puppet variety show helped my dad in the worst of his grief after Mom died in 2005.

What is "The Muppet Show?"

Pierce Brosnan wears a giant shrimp costume spoofing his James Bond movie roles but can't quite match an audiobook narrator for these qualities.

What are suave and debonair?


© 2013-2017 Nancy L. Ruder

Imagine walking into Stone Moth Canyon

At the far end of the trail you pass beyond a ridge and can no longer see or hear any signs of the city. No houses, no traffic noise, not even the tinkle of the popsicle truck. Thankfully, no litter.  Just the trail and the volcanic basalt, and the markings. The canyon has a low, continuous hum. Bending low, you realize it is the sound of small bees.

Imagine the petroglyphs scratched into the black basalt are symbols of moths. Hundreds, thousands of moths marking the boulders. You would have to climb in and around the stones to spy moths on every side, even on the top to be viewed from high on the ridge. What do the moth symbols mean? Who made them? Why?

We can only guess at the meanings of the petroglyphs in Albuquerque's magical National Petroglyph Monument. We can only be open to the wonder and the connection to those artists of so long ago. Are there moths painted deep inside caves? Are there moths in the art of indigenous peoples of Africa, Australia, even the polar regions?

Thank you to the moth-makers whose images I edited onto the basalt of the canyon. They seemed like images across millennia. Here are a couple sites that intrigued me as I went on this imaginary hike:

• Capturing Similarities in Rock Art
• Rock Art Database

The petroglyphs below were made 400 to 700  years ago. Most were made by Native Americans, but a few were made by early Spanish settlers in the area. They are very young compared to the estimate of 20,000 years old for the Lascaux cave paintings.

This one is my favorite. It seems to tell a tall tale of long-billed birds eating lizards and snakes. A person with big feet walked through the story!

When I see the hand symbols my thought is always, "I am. I make."

Keep making.

© 2013-2017 Nancy L. Ruder

Things are looking up!

No wonder my neck is sore. What a week of looking skyward!

MONDAY

TUESDAY

MORE TUESDAY

WEDNESDAY

SATURDAY

© 2013-2017 Nancy L. Ruder

Overdue with shoes

Put the new designer shoe department in the fiction room, the nonfiction room by the fireplace, or upstairs in the periodicals room? Display artists ready to arrange spike heels on little gilded tables and atop the marble circulation desk. . . . .

They were going to overdo

overdo overdo

overdues overdues overdues

chug chug choo choo CHOO CHOO lotsa shoes lotsa shoes fancy shoes get the shoes lotsa shoes!

Jimmy Choo Jimmy Choo Jimmy Choo Whoo oo whoo! Whoo oo whoo!

I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can get out of bed to

Hit the snooze hit the snooze hit the snooze hit the snooze hit the snooze hit the snooze

Gotta get
gotta get
gotta get
gotta get

wedding shoes
wedding shoes

Don't overdo

don't
overdo 



don't
over
do


No hat

no

HAT

No haaaattTT!

But you gotta know the territory!


OVERDUE OVERDUE Overdue Overdue

© 2013-2016 Nancy L. Ruder

Falling out of bed into accomplishment

In the big scheme of things would you rather have more sex or more storage space? This is a serious question! And the winner is ... under-the-bed storage space!

Bed stilts have a 27-month lifespan in the calmest of settings. And, bingo, time was up. So much for kicking off the three-day weekend chilling, making sunprints, skyping, napping, and finishing that book about coyotes.

Bed stilts

Instead I've been snorting a couple years of high quality dust. Even opened the computer tower for major cleaning. Put it back together, reconnected everything, and the old Gateway booted up like a champ. Bibbity bobbity achoo!

© 2013-2016 Nancy L. Ruder

Frosted Flakes Chatty Cathy

Technology demands upgrades. Upgrades demand online chats for service and support. 

Chat agent : Can I have you turn OFF your device and remove the SIM Card.

Me : Okay.

Chat agent: Perfect! Once your SIM Card is out let me know please :)

Me : do you have any hints for getting it to slide out?

Chat agent: Sure! You can do this with the back of an earring or a paperclip! :)

Me : now what?

Chat agent : 

I will ask you to blow on the SIM Card and the Sim Card tray please.

Me : LOL.  Done

Chat agent: I know! I know! It looks silly! But I promise you it works! :) Perfect!  Can I have you insert the SIM Card in and then turn ON your device:)

Me : okay ...  android is starting

Chat agent: Yey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me : It let me call a number!!!

Chat agent : Seee! I told you it worked! : ) Test it out! :)

 Me : just like fairy dust!

Chat agent: It was all you! :) You see you needed to give life to your device! :)

Me: Good night with sleepy sands my dears! 

© 2013-2016 Nancy L. Ruder

Death by Webinar

There are still a few bugs to research before I write my murder mystery. Like how did the murderer do it when the door was locked from the inside??!!  

The trainer/host had a smiling caricature avatar in the upper right hand corner of our screens, but a severe upper respiratory infection on audio. His review of interlibrary lending procedures in the consortium was frequently interrupted. A participant with an unmuted mike had a more fun-loving office.

Resistance is futile

Since we've built up resistance to Power Point presentations, our captors have created the next ring of hell -- Death by Webinar. You want to sleep. You need sleep. But you must not sleep in the office. The scratchy audio makes your skin itch, your nose run, but you can't move. You can't move your mouse. In fact, to do so would be sure death. You are trapped by inertia and duct-taped into your swivel chair.

You must watch the screen with the invisible hand moving the cursor around in vague motions. There are no facial expressions or hand gestures to help you interpret your captor's utterances. Questions devoid of grammar and punctuation appear in the chat box. How long can this go on? You've been signed in for, what, 98 minutes already. There is no chocolate anywhere.

So let me offer some reading suggestions to relax after your killer commute:

• Death by Downloadable Audiobook
• Death with Scheduled Upgrade
• Death Created an IT Ticket
• Your Password Expired and You Ain't Lookin' So Good Yo'self

© 2013-2016 Nancy L. Ruder

Fish gotta swim, Bill, just sayin'

"That was not the Bill song I expected," said my opera buddy. We had in mind something on a sliding scale between Laura Nyro's composition, "Wedding Bell Blues," and Barbra Streisand singing "My Man".

5th Dimension ______________________________________Funny Girl

The Dallas Opera production of "Show Boat" is a visual feast with two musical themes that embed themselves in breath, muscle, and mind. Even more, the show pulls  uncomfortable moments of family history to the mental forefront for reconsideration.

When I began piano lessons in third grade, my dear dad Howie spewed out, "Darkies work on the Mississippi," which he must have learned in childhood in all-white Pierce, Nebraska. Age nine, I suddenly had to deal with a racist attitude on top of a foreign musical instrument for which I had seriously limited aptitude. The lyrics and the dark key image was indelibly etched.

Dad would need to travel a good 120 miles to even meet a person of color, but his aunt had gone all the way to Omaha and brought back prejudice. Her attitudes burrowed into the minds of her family and her elementary class students. Far more than that prejudice, my great aunt despised everything French, including the dashing skier Jean-Claude Killy in the 1968 Olympics.

My wise parents gave my permission to not like my great aunt because of  her bigotry. They provided the opportunities for me to learn our family history and the reasons behind my great aunt's attitudes. I could despise the opinion, and still grow to love the opinionated, yet generous and wise old lady.

And so, Morris Robinson's "Old Man River" is still sending shivers up my arm a day after the performance. Thanks, dear Muse, for a long run of challenging artistic experiences.

© 2013-2016 Nancy L. Ruder

Mushrooming out of control

• Met the mushroom Monday afternoon about four in big pot that holds a trumpet vine just leafing out. The roly-poly mushroom looked a lot like the ones I buy at the supermarket but I didn't have the nerve to taste it. 

Monday -- meet the mushroom 'neath the mint

• Tuesday evening Roly Poly was larger and splitting around the edges. The surface looked like layers of feathers.

• Wednesday evening I tried to see under the cap as Roly Poly stood up taller. I wavered between pulling the mushroom out to see it better, or letting it proceed through stages I didn't know.

 

• Vaguely hoping to find a way to make veggie ink prints of the mushroom cap, I stumbled upon spore printing.  Voila, Google! The supplies are budget-friendly:  paper, mushroom, Pyrex, patience, and AquaNet hairspray! True, I would have to interrupt the mushroom's progress. Also true, the spore print is not instantaneous. Thumb-twiddling and deep, cleansing breaths are necessary.

Mushroom interrupted

Can you find the snail?

• To make a spore print set cap on a piece of paper, and covering it with a bowl. Depending on your patience level, remove the bowl, and lift the cap off the paper in 2-24 hours. Spray the spore print with hairspray.

8 p.m.

7 a.m.

 First spore print 11 hours

 Second spore print just 1 hour.

Third spore print Thursday evening  (11 hours)

• After four days of rain, I should be able to find mushrooms for further spore print practice this weekend.

© 2013-2016 Nancy L. Ruder