musings.schelley.org

I have never been the most athletic individual, lacking coordination for all but the most basic activities, mainly solo exertions that don't require a lot of coordination, such as riding a bike or doing the elliptical at the gym or walking (sometimes, I have trouble with that last one). Although curiously, I was always good at soccer.

When Jim and Carla asked me to be on their softball team, I gave them fair warning about my lack of skills, explaining how my 7th grade PE coach had worked with me solo for a week, teaching me how to hit, catch and throw the softball, at the end of which he said, "stick with soccer". Jim and Carla promptly dismissed my story. And then I spent the season (6 weeks? 8 weeks?) striking out...

This week, Jim and Glen taught me how to hit the ball with the bat, a set of skills so basic as to be laughable. Only it involves several steps and a great deal of concentration. And isn't easy when the pitcher is looking at you in the eye trying to measure up your weaknesses and only cares about striking you out.

I struck out at my first at bat.

The second time at bat, I hit the ball. Not far, mind you. In fact, I think that the bat barely touched the ball. I ran to first, heading in the general direction of the first-base girl who couldn't catch. Somehow, as I ran towards her, the ball was thrown and she seemed to catch it but then seemed to drop it...and I took her out.

Yes, I resorted to violence in what is supposed to be a non-violent, club league game. It felt good. I would do it again.

After striking out time after time, I believe that the display of hitting the ball mixed with a bit of violence impressed my teammates. Or at the very least, gave them great entertainment. Which is what the team was all about - entertainment. Oh yes, and drinking beer, a skill we proved to be exceptional at...

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 10:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The women on my mom's side of the family have an amazing green thumb. I would say that they inherited it from my paternal grandfather's brother, but my grandma, who married into the Luttrell clan, was just as gifted. I kid you not, one time she threw a few seeds in the gutter in front of her house...and a few months later, flowers grew.

I spent last weekend at my Aunt Jan's house in Reno, Nevada (yes, the same state that hosts CES every year, but no ciggie smoke or tacky casinos at her house). Jan has an amazing garden - herbs, a dozen types of heirloom tomatoes, carrots, squash, green beans, beets, tomatillas and raspberries, at the very least.

Nothing tastes better than a freshly picked tomato. Warmed by the sun, the cherry red tomatos were a burst of freshness and tartness and fruitiness. Cheesey lines such as "I could taste the sun/earth in that one savory bite" aptly described the experience. The just pulled carrot was amazingly fresh (the bits of dirt clinging to the carrot added a nice taste).

I left her house with a box of tomatoes...and have been cooking with the few that I didn't give away all week. I made gazpacho Sunday night, using red, green and yellow heirlooms. The gazpacho was beautiful to look at.

Gardens are a good thing.

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 11:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Somehow, I was able to establish World Traveler status (or something like that, help Gabe!) with British Airways, so have been bumped up into the weird group that's better than economy, but not quite first class. I guess I'm more important than I think, and I'm not going to complain as the seats and service are better (almost like business class on United).

I finished off the London segment of my trip, with too many beers and a shot of vodka, thanks to Chris in the IDC UK office and a few others (because we know that Chris is always innocent). I was actually doing ok, until I made the mistake of telling Khalid that tap water was fine, when I really meant the water that came shooting out of the multi-tap that also delivers coke. London tap water is NASTY. And, the need to spend more time in the gym was confirmed when in the midst of making a point (serious or comical, I've forgotten), my chair COLLAPSED. Granted, it was a cheap wooden folding chair, but nevertheless, it bruised my pride much more than my ass, especially when a stranger walked up to me with a regular chair and said, "here, try this one, it's much more sturdy than the one you were using." Sigh.

Not much else to report. An interesting dinner at @dventure in London. Tasted British pinot (not recommended), had an excellent cod with subpar polenta. This morning, enjoyed a traditional English breakfast with toast, egg, hash browns, sauteed mushrooms, bacon/ham something and baked beans. This lead me to think: why don't Americans eat baked beans for breakfast? They're so delicious and perfect and nurturing.

Waiting to watch the entire version of Troy. Brad Pitt is hot, and I want to see if those scandalous pictures from popbitch.com are really him or some creative photography, although size does not matter and timing is everything. Just finished watching Bad Education, the latest Pedro Almodavor film, heavily influenced by Hitchcock and I highly recommend.

PS: Jai, I completely behaved myself and did not drink too much while in London. I promise, I tell the truth.

PPS: As an interesting addendum, when I got home, I remembered that I was halfway through a book appropriately enough called, "Fat Girls and Lawn Chairs". Life is incredibly ironic.

And this is being posted a week later, mainly due to the fact that I kind of forgot...

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 11:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I attended a performance of Measure for Measure, William Shakespeare's play of human evil and kindness and trickery and deception, with a bit of humor thrown in. The Royal Globe is a great theatre for viewing Shakespeare, a best guess replica of the Globe where his plays were first staged.

I bought a standing ticket, becoming what is known as a "groundling". The actors actually did interact directly with the groundlings in a few instances, although I had always heard stories of raucousness and catcalls from the audience, which didn't happen. I suppose that the right play (one not so serious), the right mix of people and a generous amount of alcohol would probably lead to this experience. Nevertheless, a highly recommended activity.

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 5:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)