Stranger in a Familiar Land

Tall, Dark and Extremely Hairy

Do you ever have those times when one day you have a conversation about something completely random that you've never talked about before? And then a few days later that same random and unheard of topic arises again? And then a week later you see a TV show about that topic? And finally over the course of a couple of weeks you've seen or talked about this random thing several times?

It's one of those odd coincidences in life that happens often. And just recently it happened to me. It started with a conversation about Bigfoots. Or is it Bigfeet?

My friend told me all about a website for an organization called the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization, which compiles evidence on the existence of the legendary Bigfoot. Some of this evidence is dubious at best, while some of it is downright disconcerting. There are, of course, the sightings and the footprints and the hair samples and the loud crashes in the forest. But what I found most haunting and hair-raising were the hooting calls that have been recorded and not easily attributed to other sources, along with a 911 call that started off with the guy just thinking there was some kind of intruder in his backyard and then getting the bejeezus scared out of him by an unidentified hairy object, all dutifully recorded by the 911 operator for posterity.

A few days after this conversation – and bearing in mind I have never, ever discussed Bigfeet nor watched the numerable shows and documentaries about them – I was with another friend at the movies, who just happened to mention Sasquatch (aka Bigfoot). And, in the process, revealed that in this area Bigfoot-like creatures are also known as Wood Boogers. (By the way, being an inveterate lover of language, I particularly love all the different names that one thing can have – see my post on hellbenders for some doozies.)

My next Bigfoot encounter was in an exchange of emails after working on promotional material with the local TV station. After embarrassing myself several times trying to get a take right for a local commercial, we joked that I was now a local celebrity and would have to disguise myself to avoid the paparazzi lest I end up in the National Enquirer. Being a girl of discerning reading taste, I asked whether the National Enquirer was the one that had alien babies and Bigfeet in it, and said that I quite liked the idea of being celeb-spotted with Bigfoot. Look below and you'll get an idea of what THAT cover would look like – and the best ringing endorsement of Believe in Bristol I've ever seen! If a mythical creature can Believe in Bristol, so should you!

Finally, a few days ago I actually heard of someone who used Sasquatch as their nickname. And so I took all these conversations and mentions of this hairy man-beast as a sign from the blogging gods that Bigfoot was meant to be my next blog post. Lucky you, dear reader!

And so my next question is: Have any of ever you had an encounter with the the unexplained, the supernatural, the mythical, or the cryptozoological? Have you been baffled by the Beast of Bodmin, or startled by the Loch Ness Monster? Have you seen an unrecognizable something out of the corner of your eye, or heard the plaintive wail of a bansee in the night? Or perhaps you just have a second cousin, once-removed from Hickory Tree?

*A footnote:
In Mongolia, a Bigfoot is known as a Yeren; in the Himalyas, it is known as a Yeti; and in Australia, a Yowie! I also quite like the moniker of Bad Smelling Tree Men – you really can't get much more descriptive than that...

Photo 1: A still of Bigfoot from the infamous Patterson-Gimlin footage.

Photo 2: A mock National Enquirer cover – if only it was true! [Travis Wyatt]

Split Infinitives

In my book, there's nothing better than a good split infinitive, and you can't get much better than "to boldly go." And that, my friends, was just a clever lead-in to tell you what you really can't get much better than – the new Star Trek movie.

As everyone knows, I am a huge geek through and through. There are so many things about the new Star Trek that appeal to my geeky side. Obviously, first and foremost, what appeals is that it is Star Trek, but this is followed closely by J. J. Abrams (how I loved the twists and turns of Lost), Simon Pegg (who I've loved since Spaced and who created my all-time favorite zombie movie, Shaun of the Dead), Karl Urban (the hunky and heroic rider of Rohan from LOTR), and Spock in all his incarnations. Plus there was also Noel Clarke, a great British actor who was also in Dr. Who. And there was a Tribble.

But to cap it all off, this movie also had the lovely and wonderful and sexily villainous Benedict Cumberbatch (a brilliant modern Sherlock and the voice of Smaug in the Hobbit films to come). Be still my beating heart.

The effects were brilliant. The Enterprise rising from the briny deeps or plummeting towards Earth was awe-inspiring, and the shots of the mighty ship engaging with her nemesis Dreadnought were amazing. The characters were again drawn extremely well with just enough of the old series' character traits on display to keep most Trekkies happy and just enough new touches to create characters who could build a strong connection to the contemporary audience.

The acting was also great, which you don't always get in summer blockbusters. Zachary Quinto has done another fine job of channelling Nimoy into his Spock, Chris Pine's Kirk is still arrogant and flying by the seat of his pants, but less sleazy than the Kirk of old, and I've always loved a melodramatic, tall, handsome villain wearing a leather duster (Spike, anyone?) so Cumberbatch truly hit all the right notes for me.

I was on the edge of my seat from the adrenalin-fueled beginning to the foreboding and foreshadowing end, which reminded me a bit of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Because you just know that storing something deadly in a dark corner of a warehouse will always come back to bite you in the ass.

Photo: The Enterprise, a bit bruised and battered.

Food Foibles

Anyone who has read this blog will know that I write about food fairly frequently. It's ever-present in my mind -- I'm almost always ravenous upon waking in the morning, and often feel quite peckish at the end of the day when I should really be thinking about sleep instead. I spend a good deal of time thinking about what I will have for my next meal, and all too often I go to the grocery store on an empty stomach and spend an awful lot of time wandering the aisles trying to figure out what I am craving. And I can watch episode after episode of Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives on the Food Network.

Not only do I think about food quite often, but it is also a frequent topic of conversation. You can always count on food to be something that other people will talk about with you (along with the weather). And so, the other day at work, after bouncing between other topics, my friends and I started talking about sushi. 

I like sushi very much. I love all the cool names for it, and all the exotic ingredients. I love the wasabi and the soy sauce and the pickled ginger. I love the idea of various types of sushi going past me on a conveyor belt at a sushi bar, just waiting for me to pluck my favorites. Despite all this, however, it is my policy to only eat sushi in the privacy of my own home, and I said as much to my companions. After quite a bit of laughter, they asked why. And it all comes down to the chopsticks -- I am actually fairly adept at chopsticks with most other Asian food, but something about the combination of sushi and chopsticks defeats me every time. 

I find that I can't grip the sushi properly and therefore it either flips itself in graceful arcs across the room into someone else's lap, or drops from my chopsticks right before meeting my mouth into my own lap. It's frustrating. And so I eat sushi at home and I just give up on the chopsticks completely, sadly succumbing to the lure of knife and fork.

But then, my friends said that, as with asparagus, it was acceptable to eat sushi with my fingers! I am not 100% convinced this is true, but I am happy to embrace it as true. As my friends pointed out, eating sushi with your fingers in south-west Virginia / north-east Tennessee (the site of many finger-licking foods) is probably not going to be questioned. And so perhaps the next time you see me in the wonderful Osaka, I may have finally strayed from my usual tofu teriyaki to the more adventurous sushi, chopsticks be damned!

A foodie footnote to this tasty tale:

As noted above, asparagus is actually a finger food, and this is true even at the fanciest of dinner parties. I learned this when I was living in England when it was pointed out to me at the dinner table by a lovely grand lady who once resided in a bishop's palace (and she should know!).  Please remember, however, that this is really only true of fresh cooked asparagus -- it won't really work with canned asparagus, which can't stand up to such treatment, and picking it up with your fingers will only result in embarrassment and probably asparagus in your lap.

A second foodie footnote:

Writing about food tonight, and my slight quirkiness around sushi, got me to thinking about a couple more of my food foibles. First, when eating a sandwich or toast, I tend to eat the crust all around the sandwich first. In my mind, I'm leaving the best for last rather than ending on a bit of dry crust. Second, there are nuts I like -- such as pecans and pistachios -- but I don't like nuts IN things. I don't like them in ice cream, or in breads, or in casseroles, or on top of brownies, or anywhere else food-wise where they may be hidden. Basically, as with the protagonist in The Crying Game, I do not like to be surprised by nuts.

Photo 1: It's remarkably hard to find a picture on Wiki Commons of sushi being flipped across the room by an inept chopstick wielder, and so you will have to settle for this picture of some very yummy-looking sushi instead. (Author: Mk2010, http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:California_Rolls.JPG)

Back to Nature

After way too much time away from the Great Outdoors, Saturday was spent out and about in nature at the Mount Rogers Naturalist Rally. I experienced this wonderful event for the first time last year as the culmination of my Virginia Master Naturalists course, and I'd been looking forward to my second rally for weeks.

Last year I waxed lyrical about salamanders, and especially hellbenders; this year it's all about the mighty mushroom and mighty oaks. And, of course, also some salamanders.

The day started off really grey and quickly turned into a steady but gentle rain – neither of which put us off as we started up the Straight Branch trail. And every dripping step was worth it! We saw many different types of mushrooms – from turkey tail to the much-loved morel. And we saw much, much more, including orchids, trilliums, millipedes, may apple, slime molds, and of course salamanders and newts, including an absolutely beautiful red eft stage of the red-spotted newt.

The sun started to poke its face from behind the clouds by the afternoon, which was spent wandering around the hedgerows and meadow beside the community center identifying various native trees. I've always loved trees, but have to admit to being a bit of an idiot about knowing which trees are which. This might be partly down to the fact that I've only ever learned about trees in the classroom. However, going out and actually looking at them up close and personal makes a huge difference, and I was pleased at the end of the day to feel like I might be able to identify a few species and even talk semi-intelligently about them. Plus who isn't just made happy by gazing up into the dappled leaves of a tall, tall tree?

Amongst other things today, I learned these interesting facts:

• Many mushrooms are polypores, which typically grow on trees, don’t have stalks, and have pores instead of gills.
• To tell the difference between a centipede and a millipede, you look at the number of legs on their segments – one pair of legs per segment is a centipede, two pairs of legs per segment is a millipede. When annoyed or as a move to protect themselves, some millipedes emit a hydrogen cyanide gas, which smells of bitter almonds. We annoyed a few millipedes.
• Morels, an edible mushroom with a top that looks vaguely like a brain, are known as dry land fish because when breaded and fried they resemble fried fish. And they are apparently delicious! Other names for morels include hickory chickens and molly moochers. I am excited that I can now identify morels, and perhaps one day find my own to fry up for a tasty dinner, without poisoning myself hopefully.
• The proper way to pick nettles so you don't get stung is to pinch the nettle leaf only on the top as you pull it off the stem so that you don't come into contact with the stinging underside. Nettles also make a tasty treat.
• The American basswood or linden tree was commonly used for wooden carousel horses.
• Fraser firs – the perfect Christmas tree – are native trees in south-west Virginia, but they are sadly very threatened by a non-native pest called the Balsam woolly adelgid.
• The red maple (unlike the Japanese red maple) does not stay red throughout the year. When it first buds and puts out leaves they are tinged red but these eventually turn to green as the summer progresses. However, if we are lucky, the red maple can turn a brilliant scarlet red in the autumn, though it does not always achieve this dramatic color.
  
• When in doubt identifying things in nature, you can always fall back on useful and expert-sounding acronyms such as LBM (Little Brown Mushroom), LBB (Little Brown Bird), LBS (Little Black Salamander), BTT (Big Tall Tree), etc.

I'm a sucker for learning, especially about the natural world. And I enjoyed every minute of the learning I experienced at the rally.

But the best part of the day was spending time with like-minded people, people who will laugh with you as you talk about a once-witnessed slug migration (akin to the wildebeest on the Serengeti, obviously) or you show them your extremely compelling video of a morel mushroom at rest, and who will share their own expertise and hilarious tales of nature run amok with you. (I laughed especially hard at the kamikaze wasp story.)  And, as with so much in life, what I enjoyed the most on Saturday was the old friends it was shared with and the new friends made.

Photo 1: A misty mountain trail.

Photo 2: Sweet little newt, I love you.

Ladies of the Lake

Last night, my friend Sylvia invited me out on the lake. Her sister has a boat on South Holston, and so after a late work meeting, we picked up some food, drove out 421, and set off from the dock with a sigh of relief.

It's been a tricky few months, and throughout this time I've had a hard time winding down and just relaxing. And lately I've been struggling a bit with some of the different ways of thinking I've encountered since I got back here, and at times it has made me question the move.

But all it took was a night out on the lake -- catching sight of a flock of cormorants, seeing the sun sink behind the mountains, a good laugh with a good friend as the boat rocked gently on the water, the myriad colors on the water, the sounds of geese flying low to the waves, the flick of a fish's tail near the dock -- and contentment washed over me. I knew I was home.

Photo 1: A beautiful sunset over the mountains I love.

From Border Bash to Batwoman

This past weekend has been chock full of activities. Friday night was the first Border Bash in the 14th annual summer concert series in Historic Downtown Bristol. This is a night when part of State Street is closed down and filled with food and arts & crafts vendors, many non-profit organizations sharing their work, and people galore. And boy, were there a lot of people, especially for a slightly cooler evening with competing events going on throughout town. 

Best of all, as always, the street was filled with fantastic live music. Before moving back to Bristol, my musical tastes were fairly eclectic –  I liked a bit of this, and I liked a bit of that, and if I'm honest, a lot of the music I liked I got from the mainstream radio stations. Since moving to Bristol, I've been exposed to a thriving live music scene with really talented bands and songwriters that do not fit the cookie-cutter mold of American Idol or The Voice. And I'm loving it. 

The first group that played was Bryan Elijah Smith & The Wild Hearts. I'd never heard them before, but I really liked their sound and will definitely look out for them again. They were followed by This Mountain, a local band from Johnson City, TN. I've seen This Mountain a few times and always enjoy their shows –  they are full of energy, great songs, and their music makes my heart sing. Always a good thing. So check both of these bands out –  you won't regret it!

Saturday was a day that my nerdish-self could fully embrace. First, it was May the 4th –  and may the fourth be with you! Second, it was Free Comic Book Day –  again, always a good thing. And finally, to celebrate this glorious day, 6th Street in downtown Bristol had a mini street festival filled with vendors, fun activities, and of course, the free comics. 

The best thing about Free Comic Book Day is that you end up in the packed Mountain Empire Comics, foot to jowl with like-minded people who can talk to you incessantly about this comic or that character or this movie or that TV show. It is a pop culture hootenanny! After debating the merits of The Walking Dead and the appeal of zombies, I picked out my free comics, and purchased a couple I'd had my eye on for a while, along with a new one that just looked like fun. That's my bedtime reading taken care of for the next day or so. 

I also got a wonderful print from Bridgeforth Design Studio of various superheroines, and loads of cool pins bearing pictures of Wonder Woman, Star Wars characters, and a slogan saying "Chicks Dig Time Lords." A wonderful day of geekdom. May there be many more to come.

Photo 1: Kids dancing the night away to This Mountain.

Photo 2: My cool geeky pins, coming to a rucksack near you.

A Warm House

After living in our present pad since December, Sarah and I finally threw a proper party to properly warm the house. Life has been crazy for both of us since we moved into our house, and it never seemed like we had a spare moment to a) get fully unpacked and arranged, b) clean the house to sufficient levels to invite outside people into our home, and c) actually plan a party, buy the food, and fix it, ready to welcome our guests.

However, the day finally came when we were able to get all our ducks in a row, and on Saturday after a frenzy of cleaning, rearranging, Walmart shopping, and baking, we were almost ready for the big night. Granted we were both still in our old clothes (some of which were actually PJs) with only 10 minutes to spare, but by the time the first guests arrived, we had both scrubbed up fairly well.

There were lots of good friends, lots of good food, and lots of good booze (thank you especially to Brynt for the pina coladas and daiquiris, and thank you (or perhaps curse you, depending on your perspective and your level of hangover) to Eric for the newly invented drink Purple Rain).

When the last guest left, we collapsed on the couch and contemplated the many empty wine bottles and the scraps of food still left on our table. It was a great night.

And best of all, our house now truly feels like a home.

Photo: Some righteous kitsch, or how to give the perfect housewarming present: a stone troll Rambo and a red porcelain gnome.

Rose Red

Second blogging challenge, Tuesday: Where in the world would I love to go? Check out Susanna's answer to this question here later today.

When I lived abroad, travel was more frequent and more adventurous. I miss that. And so I still dream of places to visit and things to see, one day. High on that list is Petra, the rose red city. So many things appeal -- the desert setting, the archaeological wonderment of a city cut into towering stone, the fascinating history, the association with Indiana Jones. Given half the chance to visit this beautiful place, you wouldn't see me for dust. And in my imagination that dust is kicked up by my galloping steed as I follow Indy on one more treasure-hunting adventure.

Photo: A view of the Treasury at Petra. (Author: David Bjorgen; http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Exiting_the_Siq_Petra.jpg

Challenge Accepted!

This week I was issued a blogging "challenge." By challenge, I don't mean that I have a nemesis who threw down the gauntlet or cried "pistols at dawn" to me (though I kind of like the idea of a nemesis...). Rather my friend Susanna, taking pity on my recent blogging drought brought on by exhaustion (so very Hollywood celeb of me) and lack of time, suggested we engage in a writing exercise where we pick a topic and write only 100 words on it.

 

Our chosen topic is to review the most recent book we've read. So a low-pressure, fun way to write a blog post that fits in with being too tired and too busy to be as creative as I would like to be. I've kind of cheated a bit with this introduction, but I wanted to set the scene first. And also to say that I am considering making this a regular feature of my blog – so if anyone else wants to challenge me to a 100-word post on a variety of topics, get in touch! Seriously. But now on to the matter at hand...

Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin, set during the reign of Henry II (he of "Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?," aka Thomas Becket), is basically a medieval version of Bones. Adelia Aguila, summoned to England to prove the Jews innocent of murder and consequently free their purse strings for the king, must hide her talents as a doctor of death (being both female and an anatomist could bring accusations of witchcraft) while investigating the murders of several children in the Cambridgeshire fens. Murder mystery, history, strong female heroine – for me, the perfect storm.

P.S. 100 words exactly. Whew!

P.P.S. Check out Susanna's blogging challenge at www.thebatmom.com, plus read more of her brilliant writing.

 

Library Love

I heart my local library.

 

When I was a little girl, I spent a lot of time at the Bristol Public Library. Back then, it was much smaller, but to me it was a place of treasures, full of dragons, and goblins, and talking animals, and adventurous children who found new worlds at the back of cupboards.

 

My parents took me to the library all the time, and I'd come home with a pile of books as tall as me. Some books were read once and then returned, while others were checked out again and again. One of my all-time faves was Our Animal Friends of Maple Hill Farm -- I loved this one so much that I've bought myself a copy as an adult and have given it to my godchildren and other friends' kids. I also loved a book about ghosts and spooky tales; I remember this one as having "things that go bump in the night" somewhere in the title but sadly I've never been able to re-find it and enjoy it again as an adult.

 

When I got older, I spent a lot of time at the library doing my school work, especially using the microfiche, which I thought at the time was the epitome of high tech. I also continued to be a voracious reader and could often be found searching the shelves for new books to enjoy. I went through a weird phase in high school where I read volume after volume of Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Stories to be Read with the Door Locked / Lights On. Even more oddly, and at the same time, I read every book by Barbara Cartland and Louis L'Amour that was carried by the library. You can't get more diverse than horror / suspense, overblown romance, and high Westerns.

 

I fell out of my library habit when I went away to college and later to England, unless you count the hours spent in various university libraries. (Way, way too many to count...) And I never spent much time in my local library in Swindon either. I'm not sure why.

 

But since I've been home in Bristol, the local library has become a favorite haunt again. While it was a wonderful place in the past, the library has changed for the better since I was a child -- it's now a welcoming, airy building with comfortable seats for reading for hours, stacks of magazines and newspapers to peruse in front of a fireplace, row upon row of dvds to check out for free (!), friendly and helpful librarians, and best of all, it generates a real feeling of contentment in me when I walk through the doors.

 

And so once more, I find myself happily wandering the stacks, picking up interesting looking books, and leaving with a pile precariously balanced in my arms. A pile of books that there is no way I can get read in their allotted two weeks but were irresistible nonetheless.

 

What's not to love?

 

Photo 1: Sail Away, a wonderful public sculpture outside the Bristol Public Library. [Ben Collins]

 

Photo 2: The cozy reading area.