The Hollosphere

I rarely remember my dreams. Mostly I remember feelings or a mood, or maybe just snippets. Conal remembers his dreams really well, and they are often weirdly coherent in a wacky dream-logic kind of way. I’m jealous. Mine are usually so weird they only make sense while I’m asleep.

Once in a great while a good one comes along, and I treasure it.

Last night, I dreamed was in a hospital-like place. I don’t know what its being a hospital had to do with anything. I had a sense of belonging, as if I worked there or something. I also sort of lived there, as if it was the whole world, hallways and lights and doors and shiny floors.

I was aware that I had a choice to make. There were two men who wanted to marry me, and I had not yet said yes to either one. It wasn’t a stressful thing, but rather pleasant.

One of my suitors was a young, kind of dorky guy. I don’t remember much about him other than a kind of sweet, inept dweebishness. Thick, rumpled brown hair, glasses and an earnest expression, now that I think of it. He had a puppyish youthful energy going for him.

While I was walking down a long hallway, the other gentleman came striding up behind me. My perspective was through the curtain of my long bangs hanging in my eyes. They were kind of annoying me. The other guy was… wait for it… Sean Connery. I kid you not. He looked dashingly craggy with salt-and-pepper hair, mature yet virile, still completely magnetic. Say, Medicine Man era. He didn’t have a ponytail, though.

I turned to speak to him as he came up alongside me. He saw my face and said, “Now, don’t Sandra Dee me!” I think he was referring to the hair curtain, but I don’t exactly know what he meant, and was puzzled even in the dream. I woke up not even remembering who Sandra Dee was. Googling the name as I write this, I wonder if he was referring to the actress, or the character/song in Grease that I read was inspired by her? And either way, dubya tee eff?

But the accent, oh my. The eyes!

Sir Sean (did you know he was knighted by Queen Elizabeth in 2000?) then set about making his case as the better candidate for marriage (still not kidding). He apparently knew I was worried about his age, and we had a very gracious and lively exchange as he described his excellent qualities as a lover and husband. “I can turn your body in ways…” he said (including the ellipsis), implying some kind of wonderful lovemaking technique, apparently. But it wasn’t icky, truly, he was just very elegantly and passionately lobbying for me to choose him over Dweeboy. He really thought he had a lot to offer me.

Phew. Is it getting warm in here? (Kidding now)

I stumbled on this black and white photo searching for the one above. He didn’t look like that in the dream, but it’s such a cool shot I had to share it anyway.

I woke up before I got to choose between Sir Sean and Dweeb Puppy, but I wasn’t sad at all. Who do you think I ought to have picked?

My Uncle Fred, master sailor, all-around good guy, and expert on Croydon family history, poked a hole below the waterline of my personal image the other day, I’m sad to report. He didn’t mean to, really. It’s just that, as it turns out, I’m not a pirate, after all.

It all started when my sweetie Conal’s brother, Joseph, got the Elliott clan interested in Geni.com, an online genealogy/social networking (and may I say, very cool) website currently in beta. In next to no time, Joseph had added relations all the way back to the 1500’s! I enjoyed the visual and interactive nature of the site, and got my own family involved in the fun.

Remembering that Uncle Fred had done extensive research and documentation of my father’s family, as well as produced beautiful printed family trees and booklets, I checked in with him to find out if he would be interested in contributing information or participating directly in building our family tree on Geni. Turns out he entered his extensive collection of information into a software program that uses standard GENCOM format for genealogy data. The folks at Geni.com have said they will soon allow import of GEDCOM files into their database, so I’m looking forward to being able to see and interact with all that wonderful history Fred researched and assembled.

While reviewing the handful of ancestors that Fred entered manually onto our Geni.com tree, I was surprised to see the name Pengelley only a couple of generations back, in my great grandmother’s era. I had always thought of the Pengelley name in association with the family pirate legend, going waaaaay back in time. The rumor I heard had one of the Pengelleys as a marauder off the coast of England in the 1700’s. I don’t remember hearing any details beyond that, but I didn’t care. What I liked was believing that I, a sailor in a family of sailors, had actual pirates in my bloodline! How cool was that?!

Continue reading ‘All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here’ »

The sun-warmed branches of the tree outside my window are festooned with pink buds. I’ve watched them day by day, swelling from tiny bumps on the bare gray branches to adolescent pods bursting with pink petals. The dominant local hummingbird has a favorite branch where he stands guard over the nearby feeder, swaying his head rhythmically in complete absorption with his riotous songs. He’s a thumb-sized tough guy unconcerned with the frilliness of his chosen perch or the over-the-top gaudiness of his iridescent feathers—the Eddie Izzard of hummingbirds.

Spring’s exuberant pull seems to tug at me too, with a vague, tickly restlessness for I don’t know what. The steep meadows above the house are thickly coated with orange California poppies, lightly peppered with other wildflowers in blue and white. Furry little bees are bumbling gently about in the sky-colored rosemary blossoms, and white lilac thickens the air with a sweet, heady perfume. Life, life, life, expressing jubilantly and calling my name!

The intense warmth of the sun, the soft scented breezes, the swiftly lengthening days, the bright blossoms nosing up through tender green grass, it’s all such a shock to the senses coming on so swiftly after the long, scorched fall and the cold dampness of winter. Perhaps I’m hardened to the teasing springtime habits of the Northwest weather gods, where heady warm days in March inspire unwary humans to don lightweight clothing and plan outdoor activities, only to be doused with freezing rain or coated with heavy frosts. Or even sprinkled with snow.

Is there someplace I’m supposed to go? Some appointment I’m late for? Or am I simply a mammal among hordes of other mammals and assorted critters nudged by Nature into doing their spring cleaning, traveling, and flirting like clockwork each year? After our hibernation through the dark of winter, spring trails its glorious, petaled raiment across our senses and tickles us to life and love and new beginnings. Who am I to resist?

Conal in the east office window, Easter Sunday. Note the green hillside, which had been burned black by the fire in May 2007.  Yay Nature.

Buttercups on the old stagecoach road near Black Bart’s rock, Murray Creek, California. Photo by Holly.

Thank goodness, and David Leonhardt of The New York Times, for this article on the credit crisis.

When the distress in the credit industry began to percolate last summer, I started reading a great deal more financial news than is normally my habit. I’m interested in the issue of consumer credit, having long had some vague unease about the level of consumer indebtedness that the average American carries. Opportunities to go deeply into debt abound, as anyone with an address for credit card offers to flood into can attest. The escalating problems in the credit industry got my attention in an “Oh no! I knew this house-of-borrowed-cards was going to implode sooner or later!” kind of way.

I figured that if I read enough and studied the matter I would be able to follow events and understand them, if only in a broader sense, to help me contribute to prudent decisions regarding our own household spending. Should we purchase a truck with borrowed money or cash, or not at all? Should we continue our usual spending patterns or cut back? At first, I followed along confidently in my reading of the unfolding events. But then I noticed aspects of the deepening crisis I was reading about starting to sound like some kind of made-up language.

Continue reading ‘Economic Gobbledygook ~ To Grok or Not to Grok’ »

I’m having a lot of fun with our new Canon Powershot AS650 IS, the camera I’ve been lusting after for some time. We got it at Costco, bundled with a photo printer and extra 1G SD card.

One of my favorite subjects is hummingbirds. Here are a couple of the local rowdies.

D’awe, look at those teensie feetses! Don’t be fooled, however, by their diminutive uber-cuteness. Although neither of these birds is even as big as my thumb, they buzz around sporting some serious ‘tude. Hummers are very territorial, and they spend a lot of time and energy chasing each other and trying to be Big Bass Ass Hummer of the ‘Hood. The guy with iridescent head literally stands guard in a tree overlooking one of the feeders, attempting to chase off any interlopers by zooming straight at them and cussing them out in high-pitched, electronic sounding tones.

Some of the birds scare off easily. Others just kind of look at him like, “Whatever, dude,” and go back to sipping their sugar water.

When Conal and I moved to San Andreas from Seattle, we wanted to choose a new bank. Our previous bank’s nearest location was an hour’s drive away. We don’t need to physically go to the bank all that often, but often enough to make that long of a drive unappetizing.

Our not-too-terribly scientific manner of choosing from the several banks with San Andreas locations involved walking in to each one, asking for a rundown of services and fees and a brochure, and seeing if we liked the atmosphere of the place. We did actually look at the brochures. A bit. Mostly, we wanted to enjoy our new bank as much as we had enjoyed the Lake Forest Park branch of Washington Mutual, which to us meant evaluating which outfit had the friendliest personalities and atmosphere.

Central State Credit Union won us over with their smiles and warm welcome. At a glance it appeared our accounting needs would be met with their services. We opened our accounts and began the process of moving our primary banking to CSCU.

I do nearly all our banking business online. Bone-headedly, I did not ask to see each bank’s online interface to find out if I would like it before we made our choice. Unfortunately, I did not like CSCU’s account interface very much. But by then, we had already set up our accounts. I figured I’d eventually get used to it.

Well, a few more technical issues popped up, and I considered changing banks again several times. Each time, however, I decided that the amazingly friendly and efficient service I got whenever I had a problem or a question was something that I enjoyed and valued very much.

Then things got really wacky.

Continue reading ‘My Friendly Bank’ »

The New York Times (login may be required) posted an article today about Wal-Mart’s new product review blog, which they call Check Out. I had previously only been aware of Wally World’s crap-orate BS sites, aimed at polishing the company’s increasingly tarnished rep, and which were finally shut down. Kudos to Wal-Mart for giving up on pulling the wool over our eyes.

Dear friends and family, who are likely the only ones reading this blog o’ mine, you may be aware that I’m not a huge fan of Wal-Mart. Even so, I’m smiling to read the Times’ assessment that Wal-Mart has really and truly unleashed its buyers to speak freely. And not only about laptops and video games, although tech reviews are a foundational part of the blog. These are apparently real people, speaking up in their own voices in real time, and without much editing of their content by the higher-ups.

My God, they are even quoting Robert Scoble. What is the world coming to?

I’m choosing to believe that the world is moving, if oh-so-agonizingly slowly, toward the point where corporate-washed PR attempts to disguise the true inner workings of a company no longer work, and that we’re getting a peek into the testing of a more open, people-centered business culture. I’m betting that the results of this test will be very positive, and that the “preserve and protect” cultural and business model has got one more (granted very, very tiny, but hey, they all count) chink in its well-oiled armor. After all, everything Wal-Mart does, whether for good or ill, is hugely impactful. What if all that inertia were to moving toward a model of openness, inclusiveness for all, evolution and aliveness? The mind boggles.

That doesn’t mean I’ll be shopping there anytime soon, though.

When I lived in Seattle, I belonged to an outdoor club called The Mountaineers. I got a lot out of my membership, taking courses in mountaineering-oriented first aid, alpine scrambling (off-trail, non-technical climbing), and orienteering, and going to occasional social dances and on lots of group hikes, snowshoes, x-country ski trips, and the like.

The maximum number of people allowed on any given hike was twelve. The hikes I chose usually set out from the trail head with full attendance. I had fun, got to do some things I might not have tried otherwise, and met lots of interesting people. I also discovered that I preferred to spend my precious wilderness time with just one friend or, even better, alone.

A hike with twelve people can’t help but have a social flavor. People chat with each other, meeting for the first time that morning or getting reacquainted with other regulars or old friends. I found that I could enjoy it as a social gathering, but it eventually became clear to me that social connection was not what I went to the mountains for. What I wanted was to melt into the wilderness, to tiptoe through the landscape and keep my eyes peeled for what was going on with the forest and its inhabitants.

Continue reading ‘Home Sweet Wilderness’ »