The Week Elsewhere | Week 17, 2015

Mine

Cloudy.

A photo posted by @naramilee on

They've fallen. #flowers

A photo posted by @naramilee on

A photo posted by @naramilee on

Cool people that have followed me recently

Lush your home

El blog de lur

Her, here, now

Phood and philosophy

In the world wide web

Chimps are legal people, because they always should’ve been.

Shoes that grow five sizes for children in need.  So clever that I think the project should be adapted to be mainstream.

Father Roderick’s reaction to the new Star Wars trailer.  I love Father Roderick, his “Secrets of” series are awesome.

Awesome gift for those who like whiskey.

I Remember: Professor Miss Clairol

Believe it or not, the things that the biology professor made us do weren’t his most striking characteristic.

He used to spend hours from our lab time giving us details about his problems with his ex-wife.  He drank on his free time – as early as ten AM – in the bar that was crossing the street from the campus;  aka where all the students went to play pool and get drunk, AND he drank with them.

It was common knowledge that you could go up a few points, or even reach a passing level, on any of his classes if you bought him a few rounds.  He was absolutely brilliant but thoroughly spoiled by what he felt was an unlucky life.  You could hear it first thing on his raspy voice which forced to volumes that should require a microphone.  He had the brains to do bigger things but his friends seemed to get all the good jobs, the titles and the money and he was just there.  Stuck with us.

But the one thing that you first noticed about him and the one thing that no one could forget was his hair.  He had platinum blonde hair that would go lighter whenever he cut it.  It clashed wonderfully with his tanned skin (he was an avid surfer), his matching eyebrows gave him a particularly cartoony-like look.

And of course, everyone called him Miss Clairol.

What would you do with an extra $100

A few weeks ago manfriend invited us to have a pizza after church.

Church itself was a treat for us because we work Sundays and rarely can attend together, but at the mention of pizza Baby J perked up and blurted out her most enthusiastic “YES”.

She loves it not for the food, but because she gets exited to see other people, kids specially.

(Side note:  she seems to get a social trait from her father because even though she doesn’t see kids on her daily basis, she will walk right up to any child, smile and try to get them to play.  People had to harass me when I was young to get me talking, so yeah, not my DNA expressed.)

We where in church and one of our favorite pizza places was only a block away so we decided to walk.  At the moment we didn’t realised that walking a block with a toddler was like walking three miles.  To put the cherry on top, Baby J refused her stroller (having already tasted the freedom of roaming around the church building she was not having any of that stroller thing) and when we saw the door of the place we felt like we had walked a 10k.

Manfriend was carrying Baby J and I was pushing the stroller with the baby bag and my purse inside when we got there.

That’s when this …  “woman” came out  rushing from behind me, almost running really, cut in front of me and entered the pizza place before me.  She immediately sat down in the first and only empty seating in the first floor of the place.

This would be nothing if it didn’t mean that we had to go up a floor through the tiniest flight of stairs you’ve ever seen in your life, towards the second floor which is crowded with tables so close to each other you can barely walk among them.  With a toddler and a stroller.

Manfriend’s face fell when we reached the service counter and, looking back realised that we had been left without a place to sit.  He turned towards the “woman” and a companion that seemed to walk in after her and basically fulminated her with his eyes.  She knew she had left us without a table because we heard her say to her partner “what?! There’s more tables upstairs.”

There’s more tables upstairs.

I’m going to assume she has no kids and has never had to care for one because parents know right?  We share the struggle.  It was one of those moments when I wished I could’ve made her feel all we were feeling and let her know why.

It wasn’t the weariness of that night alone;   we almost never eat out because it’s not on our budget.  In fact when Baby J eats out she thinks she went to Disney, she gets THAT exited.

You can save $100 bucks by subscribing to the Dollar Shave Club, and they will send high quality razors to you starting at $3 a month,  that’s a steal- and when I thought about what I would do with an extra $100 this event came to my mind because the first thing I thought after we left the place (three minutes after entering) to head back home was, if I had a few extra bucks I would go there and order six pizzas to occupy all the tables on the first floor so Baby J can run around and stuff her face with pizza.

We deserved that night out.

You can see more of the Dollar Shave Club at their website, they are very cool.

Have a great day!

Her first crop

A few days ago manfriend prepared a little space (made from a re-used drum) to sow some garlic and spices.

As soon as he filled it with soil and Baby J saw it she took over and manfriend’s project ended up as Baby J’s first greenhouse!

She sow the garlic, about a hundred times each clove mind you, and the cilantro.  Well, manfriend helped her with the cilantro because otherwise there would’ve been cilantro EVERYWHERE.

And because she is my grandmother’s great-granddaughter she did so in a dress, even though her hands were covered in dirt and I had to scrub clean her white shoes afterwards, she kept her style and poise through it all.

This is how big the garlic was the day it was sown (sprouted in the refrigerator, believe it or not):

Garlic

And this is how it looks now!

Growing garlic & cilantro.

I’m super exited about the growth and the fact that she can see the results of her labor. Garlic takes long to harvest, we’ll be eating cilantro from that crop very soon though and I’ll sure share our results!

Have a great day!  Try to plant something!

Tuesdays of Texture | Week 17 of 2015

Every Tuesday I post a photo of a texture or the use of a texture and share a detail of my part of the world.  

I invite you to join in the fun of sharing an image of the textures around you by including a link to this post in your own post (you don’t have to make an exclusive Tuesdays of Texture post!).  You can also @ naramilee in twitter or instagram if you want to share an image from either platform. 
You can find an image you like during the week if you don’t have one today :)  


(Links to this post will automatically appear as ping backs.)

 

When I said I couldn’t resist moss,  I meant it  :) I took this in a shade while I cached my breath on a walk attempt.

Its already summer over here and the weather has let us know there’s no more walks in the afternoon.

It’s hot and humid, the yard is covered in mud puddles for the phenomenal rain that follows the irresistible heat and there’s no way to be outside while the sun is up.

You can imagine what that does for everyone’s humor.

There were a couple of great contributions last week, do check them out and leave some love:

Norm shared this amazing eye-like-looking texture of a plant, I loved the composition of those shots.

Karla shared a beautifully reflected texture, wet too! 

Have a beautiful day!  I hope you find a gorgeous patch of moss.  Or your choice of cheery nature.

Dancing Mondays: On the island edition

I LOVE She  & Him.

Their sound is deliciously vintage but with this fresh vibe, like you could listen to it all the time and not get tired.  I love that their arrangements are simple but tasteful and I love their instruments choices.

I prefer their live performances, but this is a new collab they did recently and I don’t think there’s a live version yet.

http://cache.vevo.com/assets/html/embed.html?video=USUMV1500068

Enjoy a calm morning with a beachy feeling!

I Remember: The fate of the lizard

I shared my first college years with a few of my best friends from school.

We were very close and took most classes together since we were all doing our bachelor in Biology.

One day, for our Biology lab, we were asked to bring live lizards to the lab room.  I had nothing to do with that, obviously, but one of my friends, lets call her Willow, was very carefree and fearless and trapped one.

That morning we made groups and her lizard was the one we used.  The professor gave the first directions for the lab project:  kill the lizard, preferable by beheading it.

I moved myself so I was behind everyone else but Willow volunteered to be the one to do the deed.  She was handed a blade, I think it was an exacto and after immobilizing the animal with the help of someone else she proceeded to do her part.  The thing is the blade wasn’t as sharp as new and cutting through the crawly was probably harder than she thought because, you know, parts.  Well, it took more effort than we would all have wanted but the thing was done.

I thought I would record the scene with the animal in focus, but what I remember the most is her face.  She kept this grossed out expression the whole time like she couldn’t handle it.  When she was done she shook a little and “arghed”.  I had never seen Willow loose her cool like that, and I knew her since the sixth grade.

Someone else had to cut the lizard vertically so we could pick apart it’s insides, draw it, and label everything.

I’m sure that was the most unorthodox thing I saw during my college education but somehow it was expected from the profesor we had and we didn’t give it much more thought.  Well, I think Willow did.

In fact, I’m sure I remember it all vividly and she does too.

This is my tone of indignation

Look.  LOOK.

Eggs of salamander.
Maybe closer.
Ew.

Do you know what those are?  I’m a biologist, as I have stated more times than necessary so I can tell you:  those are salamander eggs.  In the back of a rustic chair.  In the dinning room of this house I currently have to live in.

WHERE I EAT.  Right.  Freaking.  Here.

I’m currently typing this right beside that chair.  These vermin creatures are trying to take over the house.  I know so because:

I mean.  I bet if I liked the things I would never see one.  And I don’t even know why I’m so surprised because this town has done everything it can to exasperate me from the moment my panties got here but SERIOUSLY.  One of those was crossing behind my bed like it was the freaking principal road of life.

Well, it wasn’t.  I’ll spare you the details but that one specifically is not going to be cruising through my private boundaries anymore.  The nerve.

I’m going to share this with the cool people of the Look Up, Look Down Challenge because apparently I’m determined to bring on the fauna over there.

I hope you have a bug-free day!

I got feelings: 50 Shades of Grey

I said I was going to share a bit more about my feelings on what I read during the days at my parent’s and well, I am.  I need to get this out of my system.

I read the Fifty Shades of Grey series.  The porn one, yes.

And I read it because my mom bought all the books.  We are talking about the same woman who does not even say ‘heck’ even though she’s the descendant of Spaniards on both sides.  Cero bad words but a soft side for teenage romance (she has the entire Twilight Saga, both books and movies)  and soft porn apparently.

And what I thought about these acclaimed works?

Mediocre at best.  Entertaining?  HECK YEAH.  I laughed so much.  Though it might have been for cheerful happiness of reading something, anything, because I hadn’t done that in two years.

My indignation comes at how the books are worshipped.  I mean, every bad trick is there, every weak attempt at being clever failed miserably and with the exception of the bad guy being that bad guy it was so weak in plot I could almost feel the pages fainting.

The big reveal about the “fifty shades of Mr Grey”?  Please.  I read fan fiction.  Young writers with too much time in their hands made Harry, Hermione and Ron do things that took the nasty scale to about 8578934759834758.  You can’t expect me to flinch by reading about the desires of a guy with a preference for strong shagging.  And it was more like the three shades of Grey because it seemed to me the colors of his character were so limited he pretty much had two faces the whole time.  Maybe three.

Not to mention that he and his lady friend and protagonist are pretty much the same thing.  In terms of how they were written I mean, you could tell from an airplane that they were written by the same person because they both had the exact same timing and wit in their dialogue – which I HATE in a book.

But I fast read a book a day and finished the saga in three days so I’m not saying they were entirely boring.  Just terribly bad written.

That’s all I think.  If I think of something else I’ll add it to the comments section (because you know that happens all the time, a day after you publish you are like “this is the one sentence I wanted to include there but it didn’t came then, meh”.

 

Have a great day!