Bam Bird, Anyone?

Last Friday my sister texted me about hanging out. "We could Mahj!" she tempted.  I was in.  Unfortunately, the rest of the foursome were busy/out of town/not available (and her kids each said no); when I realized it was just the two of us I worried we might have to cancel.  But, I shouldn't have...she learned that we could play two hands each!

So Friday evening found me knocking at my sister's door, juggling Costco sushi, Dots' Pretzels, and wine.  She was ready, her new sherbet-colored tiles on the mat, game cards and dice ready to go.  Playing two hands at a time adds a level of complexity to American Mahjong, which is an already-complex game.  But, it provides a certain amount of flexibility too - as you are working with 28 tiles rather than 14. I love some of the rules as well - sneakily stealing from the discard pile with those blank tiles...game changer.  And, discarding a Bam Bird means Cheers all around.  Fun!

Our first game started at 5:30, and we chattered on about family and life and forgetting who had drawn or discarded last. I don't know how many times we both had to count our tiles to see who was up next.  That first game took almost two hours, but I managed to get both of my hands to the final Mahjong.  We played that night until 11:30 - and the hours flew by.  

I love a Friday evening - the work week is over, the weekend is beginning, there are no obligations until Saturday.  Hanging with my sister and playing Mahjong was exactly the right way to celebrate.  

 

Reserved Reading

It's Thursday, and two issues of the New Yorker sit on my kitchen table...along with last Sunday's paper.  I have a hard time making myself read anything but light realistic (possibly romantic) fiction on a weeknight.  So this more non-fiction oriented literature remains on the table till lazy Sunday rolls around, when I settle in my chair (yes, the one I'm currently sharing with the grand-dog) and go through every section of the Sunday paper...saving the Comics for last.  With more coffee to fuel my brain, I hunker down again and dive into a New Yorker, flipping through the magazine to see which article I'm going to start with. I have made a deal with myself that I will finish every article that I start; not going to lie, some articles have been a slog.  But, I find I learn a lot - then I reward myself with the Crossword Puzzle.  Love a Sunday morning.  

What's The Saying...Let Sleeping Dogs Lie?

We have been grand-dog sitting for the newly-(well, November)-weds.  They are travelling these last two weeks, and my husband and I aren't really sure when they return.  It's been very fun to have her visiting us...and I'll be glad when her mom and dad are home.    

I can admit out loud, my dog-lover friends please forgive me, that I'm not really a pet person. We had a crazy beagle, when my kids were young, that we chased around the neighborhood with hot dogs when she escaped, which was often.  This left me with a little PTSD about dog caregiving.  

Luna, however, is a sweet mixed rescue - beautiful feathered tail, long snout and hound coloring, and she is the best size, just reaching my knee.  While she does think she's a lap dog, I've gotten her to understand, after being burned (literally and figuratively) that I don't want to be jumped on.  So we are good.  Last weekend she leapt onto my lap and my hot coffee christened us both.  

In comparison to our beagle, Luna is amazing.  She's a people dog.  She clearly communicates with us by sitting politely, lifting her left foreleg, and tilting her head.  She asking to play (ball, fetch, tug, turnover) anytime and all the time.  With our fenced in backyard, and the lovely weather, she has enjoyed the freedom of roaming in and out of the house and has spent most days chasing squirrels along the fence.  This evening, she is curled up in my favorite chair (which is hers when she's here) and she's sound asleep.  

All this excitement means she sleeps really well. I do like a sleeping dog.  

The Road Less Travelled

 After yesterday's slog through traffic to get to Lancaster, PA - I took the scenic route home.  Key was there were fewer cars and trucks on the road with me.  Route 30 across Pennsylvania to Gettysburg was fascinating.  As I drove I was making mental lists...I could write about that...or, I could write about this!  

As I meandered through small towns, many that ended with "ville," I found myself admiring the houses.  Some sat right on the road - I'm sure the road encroached on the property over time.  Others, surrounded by barns and trees I admired from afar.  There were traditional white farmhouses, Victorian style, with  porches and steep roofs.  Some with the beautiful wood trim that must be a challenge to maintain.   

I find, though, that I'm especially drawn to the brick style homes from the late 1800s, often with white shutters.  Thankful for the reduced speed, I found myself distracted by these lovely deep-red homes, many with turrets, some set back with a lovely lawn, others lined up like townhouses leading to the heart of the village.  In between towns the two lane road rolled over the gentle hills and through stubbled corn fields, resting still from winter.  Occasionally I saw a herd of cows along the road - although more were lying down this afternoon.  

At Gettysburg, I turned the car South and enjoyed the slightly faster traffic on Route 15.  More beautiful and historical brick buildings were revealed as I went through Emmitsburg and passed Mount St. Mary's.  I love this section of the journey - the landmarks are familiar and time seems to stand still.  I didn't slow down until the American Legion Bridge going over the Potomac...and soon after, I pulled into the driveway of my own brick home.  

The Pull of the Open Road - Realized!

The open road calls to me, often on the way to work when escape is on my mind.  It's a real pull; I grip the steering wheel tightly as I cross over the highway, however, the car often veers (subconsciously, of course) towards the on-ramp.  

Today, I got to take that on-ramp...I'm headed out to recruit new teachers.  I pressed on the gas and the engine of our 2015 Acura leapt to respond. I think the speed and change of scenery is good for it as well.  The Mount Vernon Parkway was a dream, and the sights of Washington DC flashed by, brief flickers in my peripheral vision.  Endorphins rushed through my system. I was FREE!  

Onto 395 N - and the traffic slowed down...in fact it pretty much crawled.  I did enjoy watching the flights pass overhead on their way to National Airport, and I could have sketched the Waterfront I sat on that curve for so long.  Over the Anacostia Bridge onto 295 - things remained stop and go - but I can always find something interesting to look at!

When I finally hit 83 N in Pennsylvania, I relaxed into the drive. The traffic moved fast, but the speed was consistent and the driving felt very civilized - you know, people used their blinkers! The highlight though?  I regularly began to see cows on either side of the road.  Big ones, little ones, brown ones, cream ones...shaggy furry ones...and they were all standing up (IYKYK).  

I ended up the afternoon in beautiful Lancaster, PA, and I'm looking forward to hiring new teachers tomorrow for our school system. In the afternoon - I think I'll take a different scenic route home; perhaps I'll try to find more cows.  

Welcome Spring!

With the warmer weather today, I have enjoyed sitting quietly on the back deck and observing the wildlife awaken from its winter stasis.  While the crows have been an idiosyncratic presence most of the winter, I was delighted to see and hear a few more species of birds.  Cardinals, House Finches, and LBBs (little brown birds), who mostly disappeared for the winter, are drawn to our water garden for a drink or to freshen their feathers.  These little twitterers also like to take the fluff from our miniature cattails to form their nests.  As of today, the cattails have exploded into straggly puffballs - the perfect enticements for tiny beaks.  For the few cattails that remain, velour-like chocolate brown, the end is near, as my husband will clean out the pond today to ready it for the frogs and fish that will soon call it home.  

Delayed Gratification

 I've been implementing my own version of the Marshmallow test - with myself as the vict...I mean test subject.  I hate that Netflix and it's compatriots in paid-programming release all (or some) of the episodes of its' newest releases at once.  

Honestly, I'm a product of the delayed gratification generation.  Are you? Well, full disclosure, I'm Catholic - so I have been waiting for the end of the world for many years...although, I'm pretty sure I'm not a candidate for redemption.  But, denial and delay have long been precepts of the Catholic faith.  Perhaps Lent, currently underway, is having an impact on me.  

Here is where I'm experiencing this delayed gratification:  I hate to watch the end of a program - so I don't.  Most recently, I've been watching the series Victoria, (yes, it's not recently released) and it's fabulous.  The music (I watch the whole intro and outro, because of this) is amazing; the visuals are superb, and I love the actress playing Victoria (Jenna Coleman).  However, I cannot get past the next-to-last episode filmed in Season three.  But, is this delayed gratification, or is it just delaying an end...I don't want to watch the end.  I know what happens in history - I do not want to separate from the storyline that I have connected to in Victoria...it seems so real. 

I've also stopped moving forward in the series of The Diplomat, as well as Virgin River.  Both of these series have been gripping for me - and yet, I cannot move to the end of each.  

I hearken back to those days when I was young, and my siblings (all younger) and I would gather in front of the TV with our snacks or dinner on a Friday night to watch first The Muppets, then Dallas, and finally, with the youngest in bed, Falcon Crest.  Now that was some delayed gratification.  Who shot JR?  We waited for a long time to find out, and I'm better for it.  

Now, I'm carefully curating my access to Bridgerton (self-imposed, limited release, weekly) - hoping to extend my enjoyment of the show over time.  Delayed gratification is a powerful motivator to get me through the week.