asakiyume: (yaksa)
Goodness, I didn't post at all last week ...

Well, today I bring you three things. Let's lead with puppies...

puppies )

motorcycle jackets )

Popcorn Jasmine

I have a jasmine plant which gets to live outside during warm months. It gives me great joy to go admire its flowers and breathe in their scent... and sometimes pick them for tea. I have the shape of their petals memorized.

This past Saturday, we stopped at a highway rest stop on our way home from visiting my dad, and in the parking lot by one car there were all these jasmine flowers scattered. I started imagining how it must be because the car was carrying a newly married couple and their families were scattering jasmine flowers at their feed ... at every rest stop ... (?)

There was a sparrow picking at the jasmine blossoms--a jasmine-eating sparrow!

I came closer and then realized the truth: what I'd taken for jasmine flowers was actually popcorn.
asakiyume: (more than two)
Well well well. Common names get thrown about and applied pretty randomly, so maybe **some**one calls mountain laurel shad tree, but I'd misunderstood my father: he wasn't saying that mountain laurel = shad tree; he was saying that there's another tree that blooms at the same time that's called that.

Searching on Wikipedia, I find that the genus Amelanchier has several species that get called shad tree or shadbush (they also get called things like serviceberry, a name I know I hear a lot).

As you'll see, there's alder-leaved shadbush, lovely shadbush, downy shadbush ... pick a shadbush to suit your mood! Maybe red-twigged?

But don't confuse it with mountain laurel!

Mountain Shadbush

(source site)
asakiyume: (Iowa Girl)
Anyone who drives the Massachusetts Turnpike between Westfield and Blandford enjoys the Cthulhu-esque ice that cascades down the rock face every winter. There are shades of blue, green, and gold in it, as well as white. I suppose you get similar in any cold place with rock faces? I always want to get a photo, but it's hard because it's not a place you can really walk to (being on an interstate and all), and if you're traveling in a car, you're speeding on by.

And yet! I got this shot the other day:



I was coming back from visiting my father for his birthday, and, simultaneously, volunteering for WAMC's fund drive. Here is pledge central! On the walls are framed doodles done by Pete Seeger.



will only mean anything to listeners of WAMC )

While I was there, for every pledge of $100, Charlesbridge Press was donating three books to the Reach Out and Read program. This program gives books to doctors' offices, and the doctor then "prescribes" books to families with small children to encourage families to read together. This holistic approach to a person's well being (recognizing that family time and education are important to health) is popular right now--this article by Deborah Youngblood of the Crittendon Women's Union is about getting public services to work together (and getting them accessible at one point of contact) to help people climb out of poverty. Anyone who's ever suffered from a long bout of very low income knows that you spend your time moving from crisis to crisis, and on top of that, dealing with seventeen zillion different social services uses up *tons* of time, especially if you don't have reliable transportation. Having things accessible at one point, and interacting with each other, could make a huge difference. ... But I digress.

I'm off to jail later today. One woman and I were talking about "a" and "an"--how the rule that you use "an" with words beginning with a vowel is *mainly* true, but that there are exceptions, like "unique," that depend on the *sound* of what you're saying.

"You wouldn't write 'an unique book,'" I said.

"An-unique," she murmured. "That would make a pretty name."

"Yeah it would!" I said, imagining it. "It sounds like a ballet dancer's name."

Take care all. See you later this weekend.


asakiyume: (glowing grass)






Message in a Bottle

Today's message in a bottle came in three languages: English, Mandarin, and Spanish, and additionally contained a UBS stick on which was a music video promoting a 2002 French film--it was dropped from a container ship somewhere between Hawaii and Vancouver and was found by a marine researcher--on the very day she'd been talking about messages in bottles--bobbing off the shores of Vancouver. The complete story is here, and I added it to the messages-in-bottles page on the Pen Pal website. (There's a pretty good collection there now!)

Milkweed Fibers

I haven't gotten much further in trying to process the long fibers of milkweed, but some of the bits that had broken off I left on my porch, where they were rained on, and the rain washed away more of the chaff, and what was left was shiny white like the hair of the thistledown man in Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. Alas, this photo doesn't get how glowy shiny it looks:



A poet: Ijeoma Umebinyuo

In addition to sharing poems on her tumblr--powerful poems and lovely poems, harsh poems and honey poems--she also shares thoughts, memories, essays.

"Stay, you are beginning to glow"

"Excuse me, but you cannot have 'Ijeoma' as her baptismal name" --a poem about cultural imperialism, when even names in your own tongue are denied you.

You can check out more of her writing here

. . . And maybe you would like to know how August is doing? August is doing like this...

. . . and this




asakiyume: (feathers on the line)
I know the people at the post office; I'm there a lot. Back when Little Springtime first was in Japan (she's back there again--let's have no earthquake-tsunami-nuclear disasters this time, please, Seafather and Lady) I found out that one of the women who works there has a daughter who lives in Japan. That woman--Tasi--is Samoan.

The other day when I was there, I had Timor-Leste on the mind, and seeing Tasi reminded me that in Tetun, tasi means sea--so I told her so. She smiled, and said, "and in my language it means 'noble.' Aliitasi, 'noble one.'"

So Tasi is just a nickname. Aliitasi is the complete name. It sounded so beautiful when she said it--here, I found it online: Aliitasi.

"'Noble one.' So every time someone says your name, they're respecting you," I said.

"Suuure they are," she said, skeptically.

But I think, yes. Even though they don't know it, even if they're acting disrespectful. Noble One. Even here and now, names have power.


asakiyume: (Dunhuang Buddha)
In the wee hours last night, I woke with vivid images of a dream I'd just disentangled myself from--which I won't record here, except to say that in one part, I was wandering narrow, low-ceilinged, hot corridors and stairwells in a huge, brutalist building complex,and people--all men--were filing up and down the stairs. Is this a prison?, I began to wonder, and so I asked one of the men, who laughed and said, "No, this is ___ ___ ___"--a three-syllable name.

In my drowsy, newly awake state, I quickly told the whole dream to Wakanomori (who was even less awake than I was), knowing that if I didn't, I wouldn't remember it at all. "I'm not sure about that place name, though," I said. "I'm not sure it isn't actually a prison, after all. I'll have to check in the morning. It's either a prison or a neighborhood in, like, Chicago, or Brooklyn."

And even as I said that, I had a suspicion I'd forget the name by morning. I really should write this down, I thought. But I didn't, and sure enough, by morning, it was gone.

famous prison, or city neighborhood? )





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