All About The Stars

The Sunday Scribblings prompt is "my nights."

NASA picture of Saturn, 2004

For much of my childhood I dreamed of being an astronomer. For a brief time my father owned an excellent telescope which, on clear nights, we would set up on the front sidewalk where we took turns enjoying it. Seen through the telescope, the sky would erupt with new crops of stars, I was sure that I could see the canals on Mars (as drawn by the Lowell Observatory at Flagstaff in 1894) , and Saturn was thrillingly beautiful within its rings.

The poem below concerns the night my ambition to be an astronomer took root. This is the second Sunday Scribblings in a row that I have written of the boardwalk at Santa Cruz.

I know what my writing group will say about it: "A child of five wouldn't have thoughts like that. You must have been older than five." I know the exact date, however - August 15, 1926 - because my mother was in the hospital giving birth to my brother Allen, and the Ferris wheel ride was a special treat to keep me from feeling abandoned. My father was a born teacher. I had already been introduced to the world globe. I already knew that the universe was vast.

All About The Stars

I am five years old and I am flying.
Not a dream this time.

The swaying double seat of the Ferris wheel
that holds me safe by Daddy's side
swoops up into the night sky, poises for an instant,
dives down again toward boardwalk lights and noise
and smells of grilled franks and frying grease.
Up again and when we reach the very topmost point
the wheel comes to a sudden halt, swinging in the dark,
while we peer down at oblivious pleasure seekers.

In front of us the ocean heaves its charcoal-colored skin,
spreads a scalloped lace of foam at sand's edge
just within the reach of boardwalk lights.
There is a deep insistent roar and a hiss as breakers crash.
From our height they almost drown
the sound of merry-go-round,
its cheerful bouncing beat turned tinny and sad
against the sea's immensity,
that restless darkness stretching to world's edge.

I picture Daddy and me,
all of us here on the boardwalk,
the small town of Santa Cruz itself
lost on the great curve of earth,
as insignificant as a pinprick on the thick hide of an elephant.

Then I look up and see the stars.
Even the sea, even the earth itself
shrinks to a tiny dot.

"Daddy," I say, "when I grow up
I want to learn all about the stars."

And did I grow up to be an astronomer? No. Too many ambitions and interests intervened. Otto and I together took a university course in astronomy a few years ago, and astronomy articles are the first ones I read in Science or Scientific American. What I still do is to look at the night sky with awe and a sense of how small we are in the total scheme of things.

T is for Tall

Mrs. Nesbitt's ABC Wednesday letter is T

The ones at the right whose tips disappear again into fog are:
Dark brooding one - Bank of America Building
Pointy one - Transamerica pyramid

as in Tall Towers of San Francisco as I saw them at dawn today, so tall that their tops were visible over the fog that blanketed much of the bay (although one can see another wave of fog rolling in to obscure the tops of the tallest ones) or...

photo by grandson Cedric

Tall Trees, as seen in this view looking straight up into a redwood forest, or...

Tall mountains, as in this view from our flight as we left Seattle.

Don't forget to go to Mrs. Nesbitt's Place and check out all the beautiful photos.

Another Meme

Lucy, thank you for tagging me for this meme. I feel honored that you want to know more about me, since it seems to me that I already talk too much about myself. But here goes:

1. What were you doing ten years ago?
I can’t find any records, so I may be off on the year in which some of this happened, but I THINK that ten years ago we held our big Smith family reunion at a waterlily covered lake in Montana, with the usual board games (Scrabble, Boggle etc), young cousins enjoying each other, a side trip to Glacier, canoeing and music,music, music. Afterwards Otto and I drove back to Ontario, Oregon, and saw for the first time Otto’s PhaseAble Enabler installed on an irrigation pump at Oregon State University’s Malhuer Experiment Station, as well as prolonging a visit with daughter Candace and her family. Months later we also spent Christmas with them.

Candace and Clinton's house at Christmas in Ontario, Oregon

During the summer we visited in Port Townsend with son Otto and family.

Otto and Kristin's house in Port Townsend, Washington.

Those were the days before gasoline became so expensive that we could no longer drive on these interstate visits! Personally, I was completely enthralled with making Fimo jewelry and polishing my novel for publication.

2. What are 5 things on your “to do” list?

a. Find out what is under the toppling stacks of paper, folders, photos, letters, notebooks, envelopes, nail polish and crayons on my desk. Oh, yes: I detect a magnifying glass, a purple imitation feather duster, a clipboard and a bottle of pills - among other things...
b, Write thank-you letters for gifts received last Christmas.
c. Take shopping bag full of books back to the library and check out my weekly supply of new ones to read.
d. Shop on the inter net for a gift for granddaughter Gwen’s new baby. (See my last post)
e. Download to my computer my most recently snapped pictures from digital camera.

3. What are 5 snacks you enjoy?
a. Breyer’s chocolate mint ice cream.
b. Fresh cherries.
c. Watermelon.
d. Tiny yellow pear tomatoes.
e. Bagel with smoked salmon.

4. Name some things you would do if you were a millionaire.

I agree that a million dollars is not what it used to be. I imagine that what I would really do is put it into our family trust to be divided someday among our children. But I’d also like to catch up on some of our dreams for our house, such as earth-quake proofing it and enlarging the kitchen. I would also like to travel some more, maybe go to Antarctica on a Lindblad/National Geographic cruise, see Emperor penguins and icy landscapes.

5. Name some places you have lived.

Abroad: Brazil, Germany, Romania, Australia, Netherlands
In USA: Massachusetts, Colorado, Pennsylvania, and my native California.

6. Name some bad habit you have.
Procrastination.

7. Name some jobs you have had.

Soliciting questionnaire answers door-to-door.
Art teacher.
Head of community “Switchboard” during the turbulent sixties.
Creating computer graphics, particularly circuit diagrams, for “Smith and Sun”, our family business.

8. And now for the tricky part of this assignment. I’m supposed to tag other bloggers. But I’m not going to do it. I have been tagged several times for memes that I have already done once or more than once. It’s not that I resent doing them again, but I do think that there are entirely too many tags bouncing around the blogsphere. My new resolution is not to add to them. I feel honored to have been chosen for them, and I hope I don’t hurt any feelings by saying this.

Have a good weekend!

Newest Great-granddaughter!

Meet Elizabeth Dianne Zuber, our new great-granddaughter, born last Tuesday, May 27. In this photo she is all of a few minutes old and obviously already interested in this new experience. This glimpse of her came to us from Colorado by the magic of email.

Roller Coaster

The Sunday Scribblings prompt is curve or curves. And what has more curves than a roller coaster, not along one plane but on constantly shifting ones? The picture below is of a modern monster roller coaster. But the one below it is of the old wooden roller coaster, still in operation, which is scene for this memory that is deeply embedded in my psyche. If I remember rightly, the Santa Cruz Boardwalk roller coaster was (and probably still is) called “The Big Dipper.”

modern roller coaster

roller coaster on boardwalk at Santa Cruz

Until I was eight years old my family lived in Santa Cruz, California, a beautiful seaside town. We often visited the boardwalk along the beach. We were allowed to ride the merry-go-round and, with an adult to drive, the bump-’em cars. I’m not sure how old Allen and I were when this story took place, but he was only three years old when we moved to Stockton. I was five years older than Allen, my only sibling, so I would have been eight years old or younger.

Allen and I both loved playgrounds, especially the slides and swings. We both looked with yearning at the Big Dipper. It seemed obvious to us that it was a very superior form of slide and therefore would give us correspondingly greater pleasure. So we begged and begged (Allen learned the art of begging early with such an adept older sister) until Daddy finally consented to take us on our first roller coaster ride. The three of us crowded into one of the two person seats with little Allen in the middle. The cars climbed clickety-clack up the first steep grade then seemed to hang suspended at the apex of the curve while we stared down at a seemingly vertical drop.

Allen shouted, “I don’t want to go!”

What followed was sheer terror for Allen and me. We were alternately jammed into our seats or terrified of being lifted out of them. We were thrown from side to side. Our heads bobbled on our necks.

When our car finally coasted to a stop and we emerged on shaky legs, Mama asked, “Well, how did you like it?”

“Fine,” I said in a quavering voice. How could I admit otherwise after all that begging? Then Mama and Daddy got on the roller coaster and smiled happily as it began its dreadful circuits. Mother loved roller-coasters and would not be cheated of her ride.

It’s hard to believe, but Allen and I continued to accompany our parents on roller coaster rides with only slightly diminished terror on our part. I wouldn’t admit to being a coward. Maybe Allen had the same motivation.

Until one wonderful liberating day when I was already in college and Allen was in high school. A summer vacation found the family one evening at the Venice, California, boardwalk. “Oh, let’s go on the roller coaster,” Mama suggested, and Daddy agreed enthusiastically.

Allen and I looked at each other and wordlessly came to agreement. “No. You go ahead. We’ll just watch.” Nor could their coaxing change our minds. We stood contentedly as they went up, down and around, grinning maniacally and waving to us each time they passed to show us what we were missing.

I am not afraid of heights. I love airplanes. Otto’s brother Steven took me stunt flying in his plane and I thoroughly enjoyed barrel roll and loop-the-loop. I want to ride every Ferris wheel I come across. But my heart thumps and I get that sinking feeling if, on my TV screen, I see a roller coaster ride from the passenger’s perspective.

Six More Things About Me

ginger cookies

Here is the list that Retired and Crazy tagged me for. This is the second time I’ve done this particular one. I have decided to stop tagging others because I feel that there are entirely too many tags bouncing around the blogsphere. I also expressed this in my post of yesterday, and I will say it again in the tag that I will answer tomorrow (from you, Lucy). It’s not that I don’t enjoy writing tagged tasks - I do - but won’t pass them on from now on.

Here is first my first meme list of six things about me, should you be interested.
So here are six more things about me:

1. One of my favorite foods is ginger: candied ginger, Japanese pickled ginger in little thin slices such as are served with sushi (I used to buy the sushi just to get the pickled ginger until I discovered that it also came in jars), Trader Joe’s dark chocolate covered ginger, fresh ginger grated into stir-fry, ginger snaps, ginger tea, gingerbread (really cake), ginger cookies and plenty of ginger in my pumpkin pie!

2, I love folk music of all kinds from all countries. I would include the songs of the 1960s - Pete Seeger's, for instance - since they were the voice of the people struggling to integrate our rainbow race and to end a tragic and ill-conceived war. I cry when I hear “We Shall Overcome.”

Pete Seeger

3. I’m a bad housekeeper, letting things accumulate in piles until such piles collapse and demand attention.

4. I love all kinds of flowers, and, while I find roses and orchids utterly beautiful, I also think a lawn full of dandelions is downright pretty.

5. I forget lunch. I don’t mean to, but it’s often the middle of the afternoon before I remember that we haven’t eaten. And Otto is no better at remembering lunch than I am. Quite often we settle for early supper and our midnight mint-chocolate ice cream.

6. I find it very hard to stop reading at night. I sit propped against the headboard, feet tucked comfortably beneath the comforter, fully intending to turn out the light on my side of the bed as soon as Otto turns out his. He turns out his and rolls over to go to sleep, but I’ve reached a really interesting part of my book. I keep saying to myself, “I’ll put this down in just a minute.” But I don’t. The latest I’ve kept on reading - and it was just this last week - was 4:00am.

Date Limerick

Here's another limerick for Mad Kane, whose prompt was "date or dating."

From the start of the night she could tell
That he was the blind date from hell.
When he spotted Trixie,
A cutie from dixie,
She knew she’d been saved by the belle.