Christmas/New Year's Eve

No pics yet. Just waiting for Gabriel to get here so we can celebrate Christmas. Then we can celebrate New Year's Eve too, a couple of hours later!

Well, OK, here's one picture. Kai had a grip on Chappu's favorite string that she likes to chase. She's really in a stare down with Kai over that string!

NBA Champion John Salley - A Soldier

Love all the squawking in the background!

Year 2010 At Farm Sanctuary

Farm Sanctuary is one of my favorite animal rescue organizations.  Saeed and I hope to go there on vacation sometime to volunteer and hang with the animals.

The Christmas Snow

Our plans for Christmas weekend were to drive down to Atlanta to pick up Anahita from the airport, go to the Persian store to shop and Persian restaurant to eat, and to visit Tannaz and her family which was supposed to include her brother Salar, his wife and child from England, and her mom and of course husband Masih. Shirin and Gabriel were going to drive in from FL and meet up at Tannaz's house for a big family get together. Instead, it snowed and sleeted, preventing Salar from flying in at all, and forced us to pick up Tita at the airport and turn right around and drive straight home to RH before everything iced over. We woke up to a winter wonderland.

Anahita stands amongst some snowy giants in our front yard.

We began work on our snowman. Here Tita is working on his head.

Stick arms...

... pine cone eyes, carrot nose, leaf mouth, and a green wagon wheel hat.

Anahita gives Moe the kiss of life.

Posing with Moe.

We came back inside to thaw out and found the downstairs kitties snoozing.

Obi stretches out after I wake him up with the flash.

Zzzzzzzzzzz...

Thanks David Sedaris

December is, for some reason, a difficult month for me. I've no explanation for this... the dark nights that come too soon and stay too long in the morning? I do drive to work in the dark and home again in the dark. ... the expectations I put on myself to make a nice Christmas for my family without sufficient time to do so? (work, eat, scoop, sleep. work, eat, scoop, sleep. add extra preparations: work, eat, scoop, extra stuff, not enough sleep = exhaustion.) ... the fact that if I do decorate I'm doing it by myself? ... the fact that as a Baha'i I really don't want to be doing any of this at all? ... the fact that I have such fond memories of Christmas as a child that are gone, so long gone?

I do actually love colored lights, decorating Christmas trees, baking Christmas cookies, and listening to Christmas carols. I think if I had more family around to do it all with me and took a week off of work to do everything in a relaxed manner I'd actually enjoy it. As a Baha'i I can rationalize doing Christmas not as a Christian activity but as a family tradition that benefits all of us (most of whom aren't Baha'i) as we gather in the warmth of the kitchen and the warmth of our companionship and love, sort of like a second Thanksgiving. So maybe next year I'll take some time off to do all these things in a joyful manner, even if I'm having to do them alone. Maybe when Saeed retires we can do them together.

It's too late to affect the above plan this year, but I have found a way to beat back the darkness: listening to (not reading) David Sedaris. I have a CD of his performance at Carnegie Hall that makes me laugh out loud, a lot. Anyone that knows me well knows that I can watch a funny TV show and not laugh. I may find it funny, but rarely funny enough to make me do anything more than smile. David Sedaris reading his own stories brings humor to another level for me. Yesterday as I was driving to and from work I listened to this CD, driving slowly so I could hear more before having to stop. And this morning as I was drinking my coffee and listening to NPR they replayed a bit from his "Santa Land Diaries" when he worked as a Christmas elf for Macy's department store in NY. Talk about a driveway moment! I sat on the floor in the kitchen, leaned against the refrigerator and laughed until the kitties had to come look at me to see what was the matter.

So thanks David. You bring me back from the dark side.

Love That Paci Sound

<- Beautiful Banu.

Shirin once said that she hated the lip-smacking sound some cats make. Well, Banu makes that sound all the time and I have grown to love it. It sounds like a much gentler version of Maggie Simpson sucking on her pacifier! Click on the video below to hear it.

Rooftops Of Tehran

So far every book review I’ve written gave glowing praise, but not all books deserve a five star rating. I would give Rooftops of Tehran by Mahbod Seraji 3 ½  stars. He wrote about two 17 year old boys in the Shah’s Iran in the 70’s.The story was moving, the characters believable and the plot interesting, but I felt the writing itself was immature. My sister and I once discussed how a talented author will paint a picture of what a character is feeling without TELLING you what he/she is feeling. Seraji needs to work on this. It was the Persian version of the Twilight series… “Oh I love Edward/Zari. I will die if I don’t see Edward/Zari today. Does Edward/Zari love me? Does he/she know how much I love him? My love hurt so much tears welled up in my eyes. If I can’t have him/her I might as well be dead.”  OMG enough already!

But Seraji had a great story to tell and made me care about what happened to the main characters. The plot had a few unexpected twists and was intensely gripping at points. He did a superb job of showing the cultural differences in how Western teens feel about their elders (not good) and how Persian teens love, admire, and respect their grandparents and the friends of their parents. He skillfully showed the frustration Iranians felt by not being to express critical ideas against their Shah and the government and their fear of retaliation by Savak, the Shah’s secret police. Many people during this time were imprisoned for no apparent reason, tortured, and some died. I felt the fear and paranoia myself as I read. And as most Persian stories do, this one reveals the hospitality that any guest will find if they enter a Persian home. They definitely enjoy the ‘pop-in’!

I wish I could give the book at least fours stars because it does so much so well, but those lengthy emotional laments did me in. After further reflection, however, it's very possible that the problem is the difference between the Western and Persian sensibilities. I've noticed that (most) Westerners express emotion in order to convey a message; there's a purpose with an endpoint. But (most) Persians like to linger, like to swim in their emotions for the pure enjoyment of it. Considering this cultural trait maybe I should give it three and a quarter stars. The book cover definitely gets five stars. It's like a beautiful painting; I keep gazing at it.

Spider Babies

I'd been watching this particular spider all summer. She hung out in the upper left corner of the kitchen window between the screen and the glass. At some point she began building these 'balls' which I guessed were egg sacs. In late summer there seemed to be some activity but I couldn't really see much; she was behind the wooden part of the window ledge. I wedged the camera up between the window and the screen and could just barely snap these pictures.

Babies! Can you see the cuties?

I'm not real sure what all that stuff is, and what the smaller yellow 'balls' are. Any spider experts out there? It was a lot of fun to watch her activities. It's cold now and she's gone of course... I wonder where all her babies went? Maybe one of them will set up house in the same spot. I'll be able to say, "I knew your mama!"

Whack A Mouse

I need to ask Santa for one of these!

Anahita's July 2010 Visit After Kai's Birth

I couldn't find these pictures for a while. At first I thought they were "lost" when Gabriel built my new computer and some of the photographs didn't transfer over (which he fixed), but I knew they were somewhere. I found them in a photo folder labeled "books"!?! Who cares - I'm so happy I found them.

I was surprised that I never actually got a picture of Anahita with Kai. I'll have to do better at her upcoming visit in a couple of weeks.

This one's cute, of baby Kai gazing into his mother's eyes, or so it seems.

Look at this series of three photographs. See how Cyrus gets closer to Anahita...

... and closer...

... and closer! I love this picture.

Cyrus pretends to be a baby. You can't hear him but he's pretend crying.

Cyrus takes his puzzles very seriously.

Anahita, Saeed and I joined Cyrus in his bedroom so we could listen to him read the snore book:


He had a very captive and appreciative audience as he read this book out loud:

Cyrus took his bath before we went to The Grit to eat. I don't know about you but seeing a little boy standing in a towel that's not securely fastened makes me think of only one thing...

... yup...

... Aaaaaaaah! I photo-shopped Cyrus a train wheel!

Why do kids get so excited and happy when they're naked?

At The Grit, ready to eat.

As always, Tita poses nicely but Saeed? Oh well.

The next day we got a concert.

Anahita was impressed with Cyrus' piano skills.

Just chillin'. What were we watching? Was the World Cup still on?

Amy And Tuan's Visit - June 2010

Catching up on old photographs again...

Shortly after Kai was born Amy and her boyfriend Tuan came to visit. Amy and Shirin planned a great dinner of spring rolls with fresh herbs from Lanie's garden (Lanie couldn't come) and Tum Yum soup.

Sweet beautiful Amy.

Tuan and I took each other's pictures.

As Amy finishes putting the food on the table Cyrus has already started on the tofu.

Cyrus learns to dip his tofu into the special dipping sauce Amy made for the spring rolls. He's going to be just like his mom, dipping everything into something.

May I say it was DELICIOUS.

Kai meets his Aunt Amy for the first time.

I think Cyrus and Kai are very good for Saeed. This is the most relaxed and peaceful you'll ever see him... well, maybe the kitties can achieve this as well, but no one else.

Cyrus tries to hide in the laundry basket while the Baba monster tries to either stop him or tip him over.

Was I ever this small?

A tired mommy with her sleeping baby.

This video is about six months old and it's amazing how much better Cyrus sings 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" now than he did back in June, but this may be cuter. :-)


We were watching the World Cup (you can hear the vuvuzelas in the background) while Cyrus was hiding in the laundry hamper. I call this the "Hamper Games", a take off on The Hunger Games.

200 Countries, 200 Years

My sister sent me this video. It's very cool, but she also thought I should think about this the next time I got depressed about the news. It does put things in perspective, and perhaps give hope for the future?

Cutting For Stone

Cutting For Stone is one of the best books I have read in a very long time. I am adding it to my list of Top Ten Favorites. I read it a couple of months ago but have delayed writing about it because I don't even know where to start. It's so big and so full, that I can't even get my mind around it. Every time I try to describe it I have to stop and delete it.  Perhaps the best thing is to take the intro blurb from the publisher:

A sweeping, emotionally riveting first novel—an enthralling family saga of Africa and America, doctors and patients, exile and home.
Marion and Shiva Stone are twin brothers born of a secret union between a beautiful Indian nun and a brash British surgeon at a mission hospital in Addis Ababa. Orphaned by their mother’s death in childbirth and their father’s disappearance, bound together by a preternatural connection and a shared fascination with medicine, the twins come of age as Ethiopia hovers on the brink of revolution. Yet it will be love, not politics—their passion for the same woman—that will tear them apart and force Marion, fresh out of medical school, to flee his homeland. He makes his way to America, finding refuge in his work as an intern at an underfunded, overcrowded New York City hospital. When the past catches up to him—nearly destroying him—Marion must entrust his life to the two men he thought he trusted least in the world: the surgeon father who abandoned him and the brother who betrayed him.
An unforgettable journey into one man’s remarkable life, and an epic story about the power, intimacy, and curious beauty of the work of healing others.             

If you're like me you discount adjectives like "emotionally riveting" or "sweeping" when reading a book review. Don't. Not in this case. I read it in five and a half days, all 688 pages. Verghese has written two other books, but this is his first fictional novel. He, like Kite Runner's Hosseini, is a doctor by day. So it makes sense that it's about doctors and hospitals, but it's about SO much more. I found myself wanting to write down his nuanced poetic statements about life and living, and won't be surprised to one day see them on posters and on peoples' favorite quotes lists. I couldn't slow myself down, however, so the poetry I covet remains on his pages instead of mine. I had to return the book to its owner. I will need to get my own copy so I can read through it again more slowly, with my pen posed to mark the passages I don't ever want to forget.

On a more prosaic note, much of the story takes place in Addis Abbaba which made me crave Ethiopian food. I was able to talk Saeed into going back to our old favorite Ethiopian restaurant in Charlotte to fulfill my need for injera and little piles of vegetables and spiced lentils, but I am, alas, not yet sated. We will need to go back.

Book Club December Dinner

Our book club reads and discusses a book each month except for the month of December. Due to the holidays and busy schedules we meet as usual, but only for dinner at a nice restaurant, a book swap, and socializing. This year we ate at Cafe Monte, a French bistro. Leila decided on this place because it's close to where we usually meet in Charlotte and she knows I drive in from RH and don't want to be driving all over Charlotte trying to find new places in the dark. She is very considerate. There were only a couple of options for the vegetarian customer; I chose a pizza with French cheese, tomatoes and fresh basil, ate half and will eat the rest for lunch today. I brought three books to swap and came home with a different three. And we laughed a lot! Two of our core group couldn't come due to family obligations so that left...

...six of us. L - R: Leila, Leila's mom Anne, Julie, Joanna, and Rona.

Here they are pretending to be reading at the table. Silly.

Leila's half Palestinian, married to a Morrocan and has twin girls, Rona's half Turkish, and all the ladies are well educated and work in Charlotte. One's a professor, two are lawyers, and the other two work for Bank of America. So I connect with each of them in different ways: the Middle Eastern connection (Leila and Rona), the animal rescue and vegetarian connection (Julie rescues and has cats and she's a pesco vegetarian), the twin girl connection, and so on. I feel really fortunate to have met such a nice group of bright women with whom to share the love of books.

Fa La La La Laaaaa, La La La La

Obi Takes Possession Of The Jacket

Most of my posts about Obi pertain to his tendancy to take ownership of things he, in fact, does not own. Like my laundry basket. Like the mail. Like my sandwich. Like Saeed's winter jacket. It is puffy and radiates warmth, so whenever Obi sees it he makes a beeline for it.

It doesn't matter that there's a black folder underneath making it uneven.

Obi almost always sits like a frog.

Toes curled, legs splayed.

Notice also the body alignment with the length of the sleeve.

Obi knows he's irresistibly cute.

Love the mitten hands.

And if you value your life you'll leave him right there. If you ever see Saeed wearing my winter jacket, which he often does, you'll know why.