tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36123323815312171712024-03-05T04:06:38.776-06:00Wandering St LouisA chronicle of my wanderings through St. Louis, Missouri, and anywhere else I can get to on two wheels or four from my new Hometown.Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-56848511620751061052013-05-05T22:04:00.000-05:002013-05-05T22:04:55.992-05:00Cultural Explosion for Cinco de Mayo<br />
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The
drizzly weather put a damper on some Cinco de Mayo activities, but the best
offering of my weekend was inside. <a href="http://clubvivastl.com/web/">ClubViva</a> and <a href="http://www.mylatinrhythms.com/">My Latin Rhythms</a> brought in Juan Calderon and Christina Piedra of
<a href="http://www.culturalexplosion.com/">Cultural Explosion</a> for a weekend of workshops and performances. The word “incredible” comes to mind.</div>
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Saturday
afternoon was filled with back to back workshops led by these two talented
instructors. The workshops touched on
musicality, styling, leads/follows, Salsa On 1, Salsa On 2, and Bachata, with a
bit of Meringue thrown in. For me, the
workshop seemed to be tailor fit to my current level of dancing. Juan focused more on leads/follows than
footwork, and had a lot of great comments and insights about how lead/follow relationships
work. </div>
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Christina did a full workshop on
what they were calling improv, and I think of as shines. Instead of teaching set patterns, she broke
it down into pattern components and explained her thoughts on how arms are used
in styling. That one workshop alone made
the entire afternoon worth it, and made me sad that I wasn’t able to do her second
styling workshop on Sunday. </div>
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One thing that I noticed was that
they didn’t spend a lot of time focusing on footwork during the partner work segments. In some ways I found this challenging because
it was a completely different approach than what I normally take. However, I think that it was a fantastic way
to go for the workshop. With so many
different levels of experience, I think that this resulted in a better
experience for some of the newer guys- they spent more time focused on how to
lead the techniques rather than where their feet should be. I would guess that this approach is a result of Juan's philosophy of being able to dance with everyone, no matter what flavor of Salsa
they prefer.</div>
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After the workshops, we got back
together for an evening of dancing at Club Viva. The dance floor was packed to celebrate Cinco
de Mayo. I don’t think I left the floor for the first hour of dancing- which is
an absolutely awesome feeling. When I
finally left the floor, I had to find a corner to hide in so I wouldn’t be
pulled back out again. </div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoikwJNWzF8S0AwS5Nqmj4qbu7XzDuX0tkw7OBaPUeN3bXLF_0BgxdEgUN8xmWbzlCejfgREi8mEUJcsXGhK307PBplAW8UukVI-Sex12oO7GcEOHzyuLkKo1lgvvB19zkOOyWKQwz4Slw/s1600/2013-05-05+Cinco+de+Mayo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoikwJNWzF8S0AwS5Nqmj4qbu7XzDuX0tkw7OBaPUeN3bXLF_0BgxdEgUN8xmWbzlCejfgREi8mEUJcsXGhK307PBplAW8UukVI-Sex12oO7GcEOHzyuLkKo1lgvvB19zkOOyWKQwz4Slw/s320/2013-05-05+Cinco+de+Mayo.JPG" width="215" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Juan dancing with a local dancer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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And then Juan asked me to
dance. He had said during the workshops
earlier that his goal with each girl he danced with was to give her the best
dance of her night. In my case, he
succeeded; I seriously considered taking off my dance shoes and going home
after that. Sometimes you hear the
analogy that the man creates the frame with the lady as a picture-- his job is
to show her to her best advantage. If
that is the case- I may not be a Monet as a dancer, but last night I sure felt
like it.</div>
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To end the night, we were treated
to performances by Juan and Christina- one improvised Salsa and one choreographed
Bachata. Both were incredible shows of
talent and grace. I have to say that I preferred
the Salsa over the Bachata – but since I started dancing, I have discovered
that I am partial to lead-follow dances.</div>
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The weekend with Juan and Christina
was incredible, and I hope that they make it back to St. Louis again soon for another
round of workshops, performances, and most of all – dancing.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Resources:</div>
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Cultural Explosion -<a href="http://www.culturalexplosion.com/">http://www.culturalexplosion.com/</a></div>
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Club Viva -<a href="http://clubvivastl.com/web/">http://clubvivastl.com/web/</a></div>
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My Latin Rhythms - <a href="http://www.mylatinrhythms.com/">http://www.mylatinrhythms.com/</a></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-4441547341927719842013-04-29T21:38:00.002-05:002013-04-29T21:38:47.008-05:00Swap Meet!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPr-AliKEsLgiKKF2Q05f542ijMLNRcc1ua9BxKRoe8oTimVXkUo6cJEor8gYn54o2YaP56o-kAuBO69JoHkVvoLnIAmAHXMM2mWxg9K-w2DigeLJKpyKVqzLudPuMC8aBTd2RDvUMscVg/s1600/Road+Trip+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPr-AliKEsLgiKKF2Q05f542ijMLNRcc1ua9BxKRoe8oTimVXkUo6cJEor8gYn54o2YaP56o-kAuBO69JoHkVvoLnIAmAHXMM2mWxg9K-w2DigeLJKpyKVqzLudPuMC8aBTd2RDvUMscVg/s400/Road+Trip+1.JPG" width="140" /></a><br />
A few
weeks ago, as I headed back to St. Louis from Oklahoma along I-44, I considered
my options for rest stops along the way.
There is an antique mall in Lebanon attached to the Russell Stover
outlet that is always great; who can resist the chocolate bloopers? Apparently I could as I skipped it this trip.<br />
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Then
there is another antique mall just outside of Rolla, where I found a beautiful set
of amber glass salt and pepper shakers last summer. Some of my best finds have come from that
particular location. Somehow, the lure
of Sunday evening Salsa pulled me on past this particular gem.</div>
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Then, I
found it. At mile 179, there was a sign
for a “Swap Meet”. It was the middle of
the day, so I wasn’t expecting to find any good deals, but it was definitely
time to stretch my legs. So, I pulled
into the Old Towne Antiques swap meet.
This particular swap meet was of the variety where the vendors roll up
the doors of their storage units, and maybe take the time to set up a table or
two. </div>
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The
first booth that I walked through was an interesting assortment of rusted tools
(nope, I don’t need a rusty new ball-peen hammer), crocheted tea towels, and an
offer of .22 ammunition. I’m not really
sure what about me said that I might be in the market for .22 ammo, but if that
didn’t make me realize that I was in good ol’ boy territory, the rifle being
offered in the next booth was clear confirmation.</div>
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Continuing
right along, I passed by the made in China set of Samurai swords, a large trash
bag full of plastic hair rollers, and a nursery school’s worth of stuff
animals. I thought I had found something
awesome when I came across two lamp bases.
They were perfectly hideous, but I could picture them in my guest
bedroom after a bit of cleaning, a coat of krylon, and new shades. I asked the dealer how much he wanted for
them, and without skipping a beat, he said a hundred. I laughed and asked if he was serious; he
was- he’d just bought them for himself.
I guess that there are three people in this world that like that
particular flavor of hideous – whoever originally bought them, the dealer, and
me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA-8aP6bZDpcYWHCl1CaTs5SULLAiUdL_ZwINmnjgB3-m3zW3_dY9hLotNVwU-MFVhp5oHHEQPnDpCG9BRMHcNerSN44-_HqHW-ctoBSxfrgeiVP2PUKxBANFjuCPpcvixVdvqh0aNy9_r/s1600/Road+Trip+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA-8aP6bZDpcYWHCl1CaTs5SULLAiUdL_ZwINmnjgB3-m3zW3_dY9hLotNVwU-MFVhp5oHHEQPnDpCG9BRMHcNerSN44-_HqHW-ctoBSxfrgeiVP2PUKxBANFjuCPpcvixVdvqh0aNy9_r/s200/Road+Trip+2.JPG" width="200" /></a> Nursing
my disappointment on the lamp bases, I went to the next book where the vendor
had not yet realized that we passed from LPs through CDs, and now we have this
media-less format called mp3s… His booth
was filled with boxes upon boxes of LPs (and a collection of dolls). While I didn’t spend hours sorting through
the various records, I got a kick out of one that was lying on top. I’m sure all of my dance friends would love
to boogie to Discopedia Vol. 4. While I
didn’t check the contents, according to the cover, it contained a Disco Dance
Step Lesson choreographed by Arthur Murray Disco Dance Schools. Perhaps I could have used it for a series of
lessons at South Side? Probably not…</div>
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Having
passed up the ammo, the hair rollers, and a blast from the Y.M.C.A. discotheque
past, I hopped in to my car, empty handed, and continued on down the highway.</div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-24535809359726336592013-03-31T22:18:00.000-05:002013-03-31T22:18:34.837-05:00An Introvert's Extroverted Adventure<br />
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There is this problem with Facebook.</div>
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<br /></div>
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When you have a birthday, everyone knows. </div>
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<br /></div>
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People you didn't know you knew know that you are having a
birthday.</div>
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<br /></div>
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No, this is not going to be a treatise about the breakdown
of privacy due to our share-everything culture, and, yes, I am perfectly aware
that with the click of my mouse, I can change the fact that Facebook shares my
birthday with the world. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Instead, this is a blog about the hilarity that ensues when
a closet introvert suddenly ends up at the celebratory mercy of her more
extroverted friends.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Yes, I would be the closet introvert (are there any walls
nearby where I can flower?). My friends –
who might remain anonymous, <a href="http://www.mylatinrhythms.com/">but probably not</a> – are definitely the extroverts of the party.</div>
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<br /></div>
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My story begins early last week when Facebook rats me out to
the world. One of my girlfriends seizes
on this opportunity to drag me into the middle of the Salsa spotlight and
convinces me that Friday would be a great day for me to go dancing at <a href="http://clubvivastl.com/web/">Club Viva</a>
and do the birthday party dance thing.
And really, how could I refuse?
With all of the craziness of the last month, I hadn’t seen her in weeks. It would only be for one night right? </div>
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<br /></div>
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Friday rolls around, and I find myself in a new dress and my
fancy dance shoes (as opposed to my preferred socks) at Club Viva. Some odd combination of it being a light
crowd at Viva and it being my birthday meant that I met a lot of new people and
got to dance with some new people – both guys and gals. (I don’t care who I am dancing with, or which
role as long as we are all having fun.)</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXaaEuhWaKI4v3mUSG5-SE3WxWC5A6YqyW0X4b9xX2uwo1KnUueWgwK0RuhWOs2dYRsgTsUY8KKLLJsGK2ZAhgUaAlzYjjiOpDYf2EfmG57O8VSPPjLSaSGcRbYoVKwjNI4T3fshKptnTs/s1600/2013-03-31+Birthday+Cocktail.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXaaEuhWaKI4v3mUSG5-SE3WxWC5A6YqyW0X4b9xX2uwo1KnUueWgwK0RuhWOs2dYRsgTsUY8KKLLJsGK2ZAhgUaAlzYjjiOpDYf2EfmG57O8VSPPjLSaSGcRbYoVKwjNI4T3fshKptnTs/s320/2013-03-31+Birthday+Cocktail.JPG" width="226" /></a>The bartender whipped up a variation on my favorite drink
for me. What can I say, I like my water
straight up. I discovered over the
course of the evening that if I had wanted to, I could have gotten seriously
smashed on other people’s dime. The last
time I went to a bar for my birthday was when I turned 21, and I had forgotten
all of the very few rituals that I was vaguely aware of surrounding drinking on
your birthday. The hostess asked if I
wanted to do shots for my birthday.
Some other gal who I’m not sure I’d ever met before asked if I wanted to
do drinks. Both seemed somewhat
disappointed when I declined.</div>
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<br /></div>
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As the evening wound down, the “Birthday Dance”
commenced. This is a rather wild bit of
party magic – reminiscent of belt tests at my old BJJ school. As the celebrant, I am at the center of a
circle of potential dance partners. My Salsa
instructor started as my partner. The
music started up, and I danced with him until another partner stepped forward
to claim me. Around and around it went,
some partners stepped into the circle when they wanted to dance, others were
handpicked by the current dancer. At one
point, Club Viva’s owner, stepped in to be my partner when the current dance
partner wouldn’t give me up to the next person.
Around and around we went, until I had no idea where my feet were
supposed to be, and then the music ceased.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In all, it was an awesome way to celebrate my birthday --
even if my friends wouldn’t let me find a convenient wall.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Club Viva: <a href="http://clubvivastl.com/web/">http://clubvivastl.com/web/</a></div>
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One of the culprits of the story: <a href="http://www.mylatinrhythms.com/">http://www.mylatinrhythms.com/</a></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-88298544909995886842013-03-25T22:13:00.002-05:002013-03-25T22:13:39.027-05:00Saint Louis Zoo<br />
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Saturday I finally found myself at the <a href="http://www.stlzoo.org/">St. Louis Zoo</a>. I was there with three other gals for a
photography class with <a href="http://www.stlphotoart.com/">STL Photo Art</a>. Our
instructor, Brian, was a great guy, with a good sense of humor and boundless
patience for teaching a subject that he clearly loves. I came away from the class with a new
appreciation for my camera and all of the fun things I can do with it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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After the class, I only had about an hour to wander around
which was not nearly enough time to see anything at all, but I did find the
herpetarium (which I skipped) and the primate house, which was very busy with
visitors and students. Somehow, I missed
the big cats, but now that I know that I can find free parking if I get there
early, I will be back to find the lions and cheetahs. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Taking pictures with my recent class in mind, it was curious
how so much of what we talked about was simply a reframing of what I have been
doing for years. I just didn’t think
about my choices for shutter speed, aperture, ISO, etc in those terms. It was also funny in that as I tried to
switch gears I kept falling back to my old habits. </div>
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<br /></div>
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For your viewing pleasure, here are my favorites from my
short walk through the St. Louis Zoo.</div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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Resources:</div>
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Saint Louis Zoo: <a href="http://www.stlzoo.org/">http://www.stlzoo.org/</a></div>
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STL Photo Art: <a href="http://www.stlphotoart.com/">http://www.stlphotoart.com/</a></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-29054367755439013722013-02-02T17:46:00.000-06:002013-02-02T17:46:07.280-06:00Mucking In The Woods<br />
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<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Today is Groundhog Day.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">I don’t know whether the groundhog saw his
shadow or not; why would I trust a groundhog in Pennslyvania to know what will
happen in St. Louis anyway?</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Just looking
around locally, I’m calling for an early spring.</span></div>
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Today’s
wanderings were reminiscent of my first few months in St. Louis, where I could
turn right on a random street and not know where I might end up. I started out at a frame store in
Chesterfield, and turned right. Even when
I came to streets I that I knew would take me home, I kept going on the road I
was on. In the end, I came to
<a href="http://mostateparks.com/park/castlewood-state-park">Castlewood State Park</a>. The park is a
beautiful area, with lots of picnic benches, woods, a few fields, and access to
the river. </div>
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I
abandoned my car in the parking lot, grabbed my camera and headed down to the
river where there were some people launching canoes. Four lunatics were headed out in canoes in
February. I should mention that it was
in the mid 40’s and they were smart enough to be wearing life jackets. So they weren’t completely bonkers, but I’m
happy to leave that particular bit of fun to them.</div>
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For
myself, I promptly discovered that mud in Missouri is nearly as slick as ice in
Alaska, but provides a much softer landing.
However, being covered in mud at the beginning of my tramping in the
woods just meant that I was more willing to tramp in the woods. </div>
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The
trail was busy with people jogging, walking their dogs, biking, and otherwise
enjoying a beautiful clear day in winter.
Given how many people were out today, I can only imagine that the park
is overrun with people in the summer time.</div>
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For
your viewing pleasure, here are a few of my favorite pictures from my
adventure.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>Castlewood State Park: <a href="http://mostateparks.com/park/castlewood-state-park">http://mostateparks.com/park/castlewood-state-park</a></o:p></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-27184522137701097262013-01-10T22:20:00.000-06:002013-01-10T22:20:17.673-06:00Anxiety About the White Stuff<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Having spent ten years in a place
where I actually saw snow in July, Halloween costumes were typically covered by
winter coats, and my eyebrows would frost from my own breath, I have to say
that I do not miss a single degree of cold, a single crystal of frost or a
single flake of snow.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, I
find that winter in St. Louis does have its adjustments.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our
first “snow storm” came right before New Year’s.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
It was awesome. About 10 in the morning, the snow started
coming down fast in great big flakes. A
constant swirl of white danced outside my office window, and the longer it came
down, the more stressed I got.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Why? Because I don’t have studded tires on my car.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Instead of enjoying the beauty of
snow falling, I was worried about my drive home. Nobody in St. Louis has studs – and it was
snowing. Lots of beautiful fat flakes were
falling to the pavement and I was convinced that any minute they would start accumulating
and make my drive home a nightmare.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I thanked my lucky stars that I had
had the foresight to get a room for the night after the <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2013/01/dancing-in-new-year.html">New Year’s Party</a> since
I didn’t want to be driving home on a snow-covered road with a bunch of drunks
turning their cars into toboggans. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Anxiously, I checked the pavement
out of the windows every hour or so. I
watched as the grass (which was still green) was slowly blanketed in cottony
whiteness. As the day progressed, a bit
of snow encroached on the shady area of sidewalks. Any minute, any minute, I just knew it would
start to accumulate on the roads.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Right?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
No, this is St. Louis. In November, the roses were still in
bloom. Early in December, I was still
wearing flip-flops. And when it snows,
even the first good snow of the year, it doesn’t mean that you have to break
out the boots, wonder how long the line at the tire place will be, or leave the
office 45 minutes early so that hopefully you’ll beat all of the people who
decided to leave 30 minutes early. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Yes, I know that St. Louis does
actually have snow accumulate on the streets. On occasion. And then it melts, quickly, into memory. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3MDH5i6f3MSX0Tl5dEL3tfxkqcZoC0uaCG1LpkE9GLKtch_HVY4TWXYvAdRTux_1-3LzHD9SV4gThFeI_FLkRioDiZY4KykD9bCIbVk42KFbzKtM5_9eTMY1EPwr3dsxLOBExJGFCUGij/s1600/2013-01-10+Reflections+on+the+Weather.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3MDH5i6f3MSX0Tl5dEL3tfxkqcZoC0uaCG1LpkE9GLKtch_HVY4TWXYvAdRTux_1-3LzHD9SV4gThFeI_FLkRioDiZY4KykD9bCIbVk42KFbzKtM5_9eTMY1EPwr3dsxLOBExJGFCUGij/s400/2013-01-10+Reflections+on+the+Weather.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-38588635143058410312013-01-01T13:03:00.001-06:002013-01-01T13:03:36.905-06:00Dancing in the New Year<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk-n88JEPquGSCSGtttA8egoMjXCCJrtWQA6CdSQ2de4aYe0AA4FT3Wgcvq5XH0r-UpnKYe_Vf_FJ92ffoea6PoYt5aGE_p3FBZq-1p_JPcIWZf3-IaJxh-qHiRfuZKa5Eg1YCkaNeNpgk/s1600/2013-01-01+New+Years+Party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-indent: 0.5in;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk-n88JEPquGSCSGtttA8egoMjXCCJrtWQA6CdSQ2de4aYe0AA4FT3Wgcvq5XH0r-UpnKYe_Vf_FJ92ffoea6PoYt5aGE_p3FBZq-1p_JPcIWZf3-IaJxh-qHiRfuZKa5Eg1YCkaNeNpgk/s200/2013-01-01+New+Years+Party.jpg" width="200" /> </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Having survived the Mayan Apocalypse,
celebrated the holidays with my family and friends, and packed away all trace
of Christmas with the energetic, if somewhat unhelpful, assistance of my cat,
the only thing left to do in 2012 was to greet 2013. For the first time since I was in college, I celebrated
with friends, both old and new; <i>Auld Lang
Syne</i> took on new meaning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent
the New Year’s Eve at the <a href="http://www.midwestswingdance.com/">Midwest Dance Federation</a>’s annual bash; I was one of
the first people on the dance floor when the music started about 6pm, and one
of the last to leave it when the hotel finally kicked us off the dance floor
around 3am. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I
arrived, I was disappointed to discover that my table was as far from the dance
floor as it gets. This turned out to be
a blessing in disguise however since I spent a large portion of the evening
avoiding my table mates. The table’s
location gave me a perfect excuse to never be sitting there, except to eat. (Note for next year: try to get a table
together so you don’t get stuck with the luck of the draw.) While most of my table mates were nice
people, I definitely got some of the odd balls of the dancing community. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
There was the lady who alternately
wanted to talk politics and give me her testimony as a Christian. I got her life’s story, twice, maybe three
times; I lost count. Let’s simply say
that my Meema’s advice about saying “hmm, isn’t that nice” when you really just
need to bite your tongue came in very handy.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then there
was the drunk guy. He was cute and
interesting while he was working on the first glass of wine, but became
progressively less so with each subsequent glass. I felt sorry for his date; he said she was
just a friend, but just because it’s a friend, you still should observe some
social proprieties- like dance with her, not follow some other woman around the
room like a lost puppy. According to one
of my friends, I did a pretty good job of avoiding him, but I guess I didn’t do
as good a job of keeping my avoidance from being obvious to the rest of the
world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But on
a happy note, I met some awesome new dance partners. Some of them were from out of town- Detroit,
Chicago, and Jefferson City. Others were
local, but we just don’t cross paths frequently at the dances. We danced East Coast Swing, West Coast Swing,
some slow dances, and a few line dances.
One of the guys, who I was dancing with at 3am, teaches West Coast Swing
at the <a href="http://www.stlrebels.com/">Rebels</a>. I was really glad that I
had gone to the Rebels a few nights ago because every dance that I had with him
at the Rebels gave me practice for the dance partners that I encountered last
night who assumed that I knew West Coast.
A week ago, I could have stumbled through it, but last night, it almost
felt like I was competent. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
At the stroke of midnight, I raised
a glass of champagne and toasted the evening with my friends, old and new, and
a warm fuzzy contentment made my evening complete.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Resources:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Midwest Swing Dance
Federation: <a href="http://www.midwestswingdance.com/">http://www.midwestswingdance.com/</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
St. Louis Rebels: <a href="http://www.stlrebels.com/">http://www.stlrebels.com/</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Southside Imperial Dance Club (my
home club): <a href="http://www.southsidedance.org/">http://www.southsidedance.org/</a> </div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-86769064755506315042012-12-10T22:31:00.000-06:002012-12-10T22:31:47.490-06:00A Tale of Two Parties<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
This
last weekend, I enjoyed my evenings with friends from two very different part
of my life at two very different parties.
The common factor between both (which is really a common factor to all
events in St. Louis) was alcohol. The
other common factor was that both parties were celebrating new beginnings.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Saturday,
I went to a colleague’s home for a baby shower.
Thankfully, it was a couples’ baby shower, so while there was a lot of
talk about fussy babies and sleepless nights, there were not any pregnancy horror
stories. It was a delightful evening
with friends. We oohed and ahhed over my
friend’s newly renovated home almost as much as we did over the baby gifts; since
the happy couple is having a girl, there were plenty of pink ruffle filled
opportunities for cooing. The house was
fabulous; there was a small porch off of the living room for warm evenings with
a book and lemonade. The kitchen was
made over with walnut cabinets and granite counter tops; the look was
contemporary but fit well into traditional atmosphere of the house.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw25Aw4ifObZtM1WLoOlC2k8FnqyC77oUyKddJSZygSQTo4QPCDFid1kfPCkwBlqZekoGzJGt1bIioVeHXc1iQ_NR-aWzBPBcz5Zrzr4mDhusyPP7wK-t3WEm5O0_K6yjeW0JdQU2gDlXU/s1600/2012-12-09+A+Tale+of+Two+Parties.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw25Aw4ifObZtM1WLoOlC2k8FnqyC77oUyKddJSZygSQTo4QPCDFid1kfPCkwBlqZekoGzJGt1bIioVeHXc1iQ_NR-aWzBPBcz5Zrzr4mDhusyPP7wK-t3WEm5O0_K6yjeW0JdQU2gDlXU/s320/2012-12-09+A+Tale+of+Two+Parties.JPG" width="240" /></a> Sunday,
I went to a different friend’s new apartment for what I will describe as a
housewarming party, but which he characterized as “an excuse to get the last box
unpacked” party. He just moved into a
fabulous loft in on Washington. In size,
it reminded me disturbingly of my old apartment in Anchorage, but that is where
the resemblance ended. The building was
open and airy with wood floors throughout, high ceilings and exposed beams. Dinner was jambalaya and chorizo bean soup –
both made from scratch. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
The company was great, with music,
beer-fueled arm wrestling contests, and salsa dancing. Figuring out the music was a trip. The crowd was a Salsa loving group, but my
friend didn’t have any Salsa music. We
ended up spinning across the floor to the tinny emanations of an IPhone. I danced with every guy at the party,
which was sweet. However, I have to say
that I have a long way to go to be comfortable dancing in a small space- I kept
getting distracted thinking I would run into a wall.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
When the party broke- or perhaps I
should say “transitioned”- from the apartment to the Atomic Cowboy- I made good
my exit. I don’t know how late they
stayed out, but I am pretty sure I was already up well past my bedtime.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
All in all, a good weekend. I hope I can finagle some more of that jambalaya
someday – it was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.</div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-79794928533570684662012-12-06T23:18:00.001-06:002012-12-06T23:18:17.454-06:00Dancing Full Circle<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back in
May, I stumbled across a local Swing dance group, Southside Imperial Dance
Club. It quickly became a regular part
of my routine to wander over to Kirkwood on a Sunday evening with my perfectly
ugly dance shoes (really, they’re ugly) and spend a few hours twirling around the
dance floor with my new friends. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, as
my friends know (apparently both new and old), I’m a sucker who has difficulty
with using that two letter word that all two-year-olds instinctively know, “No.” A few weeks ago, I was asked to join Southside’s
board. This is what happens when you
show up regularly, occasionally help pick up decorations, and generally make
friends with the people who get things done in a group. Of course, I said yes; this group is my group.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lPq7zUlRjQsJNdzAjhO5fE3CMG_e_w_bbM2ej1uEasOxhc2Ai6W7WiAKM42YMY-zTqK26yUbR-sPHIpdrF_VXLHVrHa_LJ1gfDt9TB3pWjbg12OnBUf00eJgoXiNiLtAz9IZpHAV9jpo/s1600/2012-12-06+Southside+Anniversary+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lPq7zUlRjQsJNdzAjhO5fE3CMG_e_w_bbM2ej1uEasOxhc2Ai6W7WiAKM42YMY-zTqK26yUbR-sPHIpdrF_VXLHVrHa_LJ1gfDt9TB3pWjbg12OnBUf00eJgoXiNiLtAz9IZpHAV9jpo/s320/2012-12-06+Southside+Anniversary+2.JPG" width="320" /></a> This
brings me to last Saturday when we and 175 of our closest dance friends
celebrated the club's anniversary. In order to accommodate
our local dance family, we rented the gymnasium at the community center in
Whitecliff Park in Crestwood. With
plenty of blue and silver balloons, candles, and garland, we transformed the
basketball court into a dance hall. Add
a DJ, some food, and you have a party.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7-POVonD4NJPPhHrq6FyJAx3_cjM8nqCZdxF6nM6rRavIO5ct-S22BtAI6mW0JUek8zFTocgtF5iY57qM5BGxqNiXw4roRNGzfoXKHXxK4YPQf4DYwtHbqiK8Jcrgm-_0QAMZvo0OrFs/s1600/2012-12-06+Southside+Anniversary+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7-POVonD4NJPPhHrq6FyJAx3_cjM8nqCZdxF6nM6rRavIO5ct-S22BtAI6mW0JUek8zFTocgtF5iY57qM5BGxqNiXw4roRNGzfoXKHXxK4YPQf4DYwtHbqiK8Jcrgm-_0QAMZvo0OrFs/s320/2012-12-06+Southside+Anniversary+1.JPG" width="320" /></a> The
highlight of the evening was the interclub championship. Every year, Southside invites local clubs to
send their best dancers to show off their stuff. There were five couples on the floor showing
off their best footwork. Anytime I have
the pleasure of watching the gal from the winning couple, I am reminded of a
quote from the movie <u>Take the Lead</u>:
“<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I'd kill to
dance like that. It's like sex on hardwood.</span>” No, I was not surprised that she won; as one
of my partners once observed, she has joints in places people aren’t supposed
to have joints.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> And of course, I got to
dance. I danced fast songs and slow
songs, with my favorite partners, and with new friends. Since it was a special evening, I dressed up
and spent the evening twirling in a swishy skirt. If you don’t spend much time twirling in a
swishy skirt, rest assured, it is the best way to spin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
At the end of the evening, the
crowd slowly dwindled, until there were only thirty or so of us left to boogie
to the Cupid Shuffle. As the last of the
couples enjoyed the final song, we cleared the tables, unplugged the
twinkle lights and pulled down the decorations.
A bit of team work, and we left the room as we found it – ready for a
game of basketball.</div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-58343137450060870352012-11-25T21:25:00.000-06:002012-11-25T21:25:24.054-06:00Mud and Chocolate<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">While I will admit that I have not
looked too very hard for a new coffee place, the loss of Middle Way Café from
my life when I left Alaska is mentionable.
From the smooth coffee without a hint of bitterness to the chic décor to
the friendly baristas who knew me by name and how I took my mochas, hot
chocolates and lattes. Occasionally, I
have tried a new coffee place here and there in St. Louis, but have rejected
more coffee than I have enjoyed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yesterday,
I finally found an analogous coffee place to Middle Way. Surprisingly, my Mom called it. Let’s step back for a moment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9b8iiOd7zy9dqzgv_0nPHcGCSbyR78GzFODRiFjp8WqV_goxG2O1TzGwzpvQBHxq5juMPVhPf95H4n3fXj4ZZ8UL9jRYDGL48Z7xW74kHAeld3i_lJwwK3HjaWnRuEmogUXPC45tXwaRH/s1600/2012-11-25+Cherokee+Street.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9b8iiOd7zy9dqzgv_0nPHcGCSbyR78GzFODRiFjp8WqV_goxG2O1TzGwzpvQBHxq5juMPVhPf95H4n3fXj4ZZ8UL9jRYDGL48Z7xW74kHAeld3i_lJwwK3HjaWnRuEmogUXPC45tXwaRH/s320/2012-11-25+Cherokee+Street.JPG" width="320" /></a> Yesterday,
Mom and I decided to go check out <a href="http://antiquerow.org/">Cherokee Row</a>, which is a revitalized
neighborhood in the Benton Park area which is known for its antique shops. I had been down the street <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/05/reclaiming-80s.html">once severalmonths ago</a>, but not for shopping. All I
really knew was that it had a <a href="http://www.hammondsbooks.net/">book store</a> that looked interesting. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We
started our afternoon with a stop at <a href="http://www.themudhousestl.com/">The Mud House</a>, a place that I only vaguely
knew by reputation. At eleven o’clock on
a Saturday Morning, the place was already busy.
The crowd was relatively young and hip, but refreshingly, they weren’t
parked at tables with laptops glaring up in their faces. Most people were there for a morning with
friends and conversation. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mom and
I both ordered hot chocolate, and she snuck in a piece of gooey butter cake
while I wasn’t watching. While Mom
waited for our drinks, I found us a table near the window so we could watch the
street. Frankly, the eccentric collection
of antique games and other memorabilia on the walls was more interesting than
the bundled up shoppers scurrying down the chilly streets.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When
Mom came over with the hot chocolate, I knew we were in for a treat. The heavy ceramic mugs were brimming with the
fine foam that only a skilled barista can make.
No whipped cream – who needs that when your hot cocoa is already a
creation of perfection? The conversation
between Mom and I went something like this:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mom: “I watched the gal make these.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: “She steamed the milk, didn’t she?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mom: “Yes, and put in lots of chocolate.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The hot
chocolate was everything you could hope for:
Warm, foamy, and wonderfully chocolately. When Mom got to the bottom of her mug she
kept trying to get the last of the foam out.
Finally I told her to use her fork.
She gave me an incredulous look, kind of laughed, and picked up the
fork. Needless to say, there was no foam
left in either cup by the time we finished.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Mud
House is worth the trip to Cherokee Street all by itself. While I didn’t try out the coffee, I can tell
you (because we actually went twice) that the gooey butter cake, brownies,
smoothies, and sandwiches are all delicious.
Additionally, they have vegetarian options and locally source their
coffee beans. I’ll definitely be going
back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Resources:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cherokee Antique Row:
<a href="http://antiquerow.org/">http://antiquerow.org/</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Mud House: <a href="http://www.themudhousestl.com/">http://www.themudhousestl.com/</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Middle Way Café (Alaska): <a href="http://www.middlewaycafe.com/">http://www.middlewaycafe.com/</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the Book Lovers in the audience, Hammonds Books: <a href="http://www.hammondsbooks.net/">http://www.hammondsbooks.net/</a></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-50452323816158230082012-11-19T23:06:00.002-06:002012-11-19T23:06:59.498-06:00A Literary Sanctuary<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Every now and then, you find a
place that feeds your soul; a place where time stops, the stresses of the day
melt away, and you can immerse yourself in oblivion.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The time you spend there is cathartic, a walking
meditation on life, or an exploration of newly discovered interests.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
For everyone, this place might be
different- a cathedral where the light streams in red, blue and green through
the stained glass windows; a hike in the mountains where your shouts and
laughter will only be heard by the marmots; a dance club where the music thrumbs
through your body to the time of your own heartbeat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
For me, it is a book store. Not just any book store, it is a book lover’s
store. This kind of book store is
generally (though not always) a used book store. Whether it is tidy or cramped, fastidiously
organized or a natural disaster, there is a certain feel to it. You want to run your fingers across the
spines of books lined up as if you were in a fabric store playing with the
reams of silk and velvet. There is often
a certain scent in the air, from the accumulation of so much paper and the dust
and mold that come along with it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
That first visit to a new store is
like an exploration of the wilderness and a spiritual retreat rolled into one. You wander the aisles learning where the
different sections are and remember books that you want to read from areas that
you won’t typically peruse once you are familiar with the store. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_rZ_PzXm6vVs-mBM1z2Y1gNT6BGwxzGPvXZg05AraeJMPb1j1Y8iEqTdA6SKRbMuWF-CEQ4FIBC_QMWh2_eQ1gMV8BWuZGgd5yaAcz3AU_-ke5_h3KjpO5bW51gXKOBouY0Qs-w6g2X9Z/s1600/2012-11-19+Book+House.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_rZ_PzXm6vVs-mBM1z2Y1gNT6BGwxzGPvXZg05AraeJMPb1j1Y8iEqTdA6SKRbMuWF-CEQ4FIBC_QMWh2_eQ1gMV8BWuZGgd5yaAcz3AU_-ke5_h3KjpO5bW51gXKOBouY0Qs-w6g2X9Z/s320/2012-11-19+Book+House.JPG" width="240" /></a>Today, I finally made it to the
<a href="http://www.bookhousestl.com/">Book House</a> in Rock Hill. I had been
meaning to go for several months, but I wanted to go when I knew I would have a
couple of hours to just wander through the stacks. In some ways, I should never have waited, in
others, I think that the trip would always have been emotionally draining for
me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
From the street, you can tell that
the Book House has great potential to be an awesome book store. It is in a small old house that is set back
off of Manchester. But when you step
inside, it hits you; this is book lover’s paradise. There are shelves of books from floor to
ceiling along every wall and in every nook and cranny that a few pages of bound
paper can be made to fit. Walking up and down the stairs between floors, you
have to stop to see what books are along the wall, or on the bookcase in front
of you. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Hand lettered signs hang throughout
the store pointing the way to different section of books, including a very
helpful sign saying that if you are looking for books on the History of the
South, try the bottom shelf on the left.
(I would note that to get to that shelf, you will need to move the piles
of books out from in front of it, and probably have to figure out where to put
the piles that you just moved.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
In many ways, though I had never
set foot in the store, it was a trip down memory lane for me. Many of my old friends were there (offhand, Harry
Potter, Isabelle Allende, Jim Butcher, Ray Bradbury, and Starhawk). The hoard of books brought to mind the scene in <u>Fahrenheit
451</u> where the woman lights her own house on fire with herself in it rather than
be parted from her books. Most wrenching
perhaps, was thinking how much one of my old friends would have enjoyed
exploring the store with me, and the laughter we would have shared as we both
spent way too much money on books to add to our already over flowing
shelves. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
So, I picked up a book on solitude
(Thoreau’s <u>Walden</u>) and a reminder of humanity’s foibles (C. S. Lewis’s <u>Screwtape
Letters</u>), added The Book House to my list of personal retreats, and stopped for
a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
The Book House: <a href="http://www.bookhousestl.com/">http://www.bookhousestl.com/</a></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-21921260657369907032012-11-11T23:32:00.000-06:002012-11-11T23:32:22.924-06:00Myth Busted<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIKuhf3cxURt5cWt-YYaRry0_EMteBAIhwJ-02BGz5ygzrI5MTEFclvO5CJS98QBGHXzvd8Ssh3u4nL7GMsFeiLrS4m2kve2jVSse9s8n4UVvWld6m0zJutT9SgXyzAFbMkvjmncHRK8X/s1600/2012-11-11+Mythbutsters+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIKuhf3cxURt5cWt-YYaRry0_EMteBAIhwJ-02BGz5ygzrI5MTEFclvO5CJS98QBGHXzvd8Ssh3u4nL7GMsFeiLrS4m2kve2jVSse9s8n4UVvWld6m0zJutT9SgXyzAFbMkvjmncHRK8X/s320/2012-11-11+Mythbutsters+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">One great thing about being single is that when you find out at the last minute that a fun show is going to be in town,
you don’t have to worry about whether your sweetie has different plans.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">And so when I found out last Thursday that
the <a href="http://www.mythbusterstour.com/">Mythbusters</a> were going to be in town, I didn’t even think twice about
buying a ticket and making my own little date night.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My
evening started at a restaurant near the theater called <a href="http://jazzstl.org/jazz-at-the-bistro/">Jazz at theBistro</a>. It was a bit pricy for a regular
spot, but the flourless chocolate cake was delicious. Next time I’m looking for a place for dessert
and a cup of coffee, it will definitely be on my list. Additionally, they have live jazz concerts
every week; I was a bit too early to hear the music, but I imagine it is
wonderful.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_CcNov-NRqAmt-G72MEWLwvE2_ONEztpWCqidqVTxF6qnXyh-_XKONnEVp5LnKmeCFPj3_wIo-ast7f5Km2zoxpGmK6nMcS9oJUqQrXNsgD-PbYpfuQPRHs72QNR13nIrCOxpF8vL7yai/s1600/2012-11-11+Mythbutsters+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_CcNov-NRqAmt-G72MEWLwvE2_ONEztpWCqidqVTxF6qnXyh-_XKONnEVp5LnKmeCFPj3_wIo-ast7f5Km2zoxpGmK6nMcS9oJUqQrXNsgD-PbYpfuQPRHs72QNR13nIrCOxpF8vL7yai/s320/2012-11-11+Mythbutsters+1.JPG" width="262" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDEUL-8SkynxhvPo0LJt2Z1nj_pBRYTHHzBqt8kGRJTZAE2tEgF1snTX4-PClO0_LVAInthkzd2Lu-v65CXhLcsMDo-c5xKkpE9R6A6Jsq2f40lgH3vsM3nK75kYOGxr73C0E1qZ0sDCjY/s1600/2012-11-11+Mythbutsters+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDEUL-8SkynxhvPo0LJt2Z1nj_pBRYTHHzBqt8kGRJTZAE2tEgF1snTX4-PClO0_LVAInthkzd2Lu-v65CXhLcsMDo-c5xKkpE9R6A6Jsq2f40lgH3vsM3nK75kYOGxr73C0E1qZ0sDCjY/s320/2012-11-11+Mythbutsters+2.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After
dinner, I walked to the theater, the <a href="http://www.fabulousfox.com/">Fabulous Fox</a>. The exterior façade is really cool, but it
doesn’t prepare you for the fabulous interior.
The word that comes to mind is arabesque, but even that doesn’t capture the
incredible woodwork, soaring columns, fanciful statuary and stained glass that
adorns every square foot of the theater.
I gawked at the decor from the time I walked in the door until the show
started.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As for
the show, “Behind the Myths” was part physics horse and pony show, part behind
the scenes look at their show, part bloopers reel, and plenty of classic Adam
and Jamie. For the physics parts, they
talked a lot about how forces work (including a demonstration of Jamie breaking
a brick on Adam’s stomach with a sledge hammer while Adam laid on a bed of
nails) and some about fluid dynamics (Adam is probably the only person who can
compare the bang made by an exploding hot water tank to falling in love and
make it convincing). The coolest trick
in the show was when they took two phonebooks where the pages had been shuffled
together like a deck of cards and used it as a carabiner of sorts to hoist Adam
off the ground. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNCb7xldSxaE87sCmGf5TnmoiqzrK3xkjrsa1ylyzpM_ty6GJRumox4Qwc7vfVNibcANYTNE4dgo9UcGH1eSixQq9vJjNdqglJrnWj6AQjnjab7LuUJ_aG5W6n5xwXuSw4vDw83V1NJZG/s1600/2012-11-11+Mythbutsters+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="116" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNCb7xldSxaE87sCmGf5TnmoiqzrK3xkjrsa1ylyzpM_ty6GJRumox4Qwc7vfVNibcANYTNE4dgo9UcGH1eSixQq9vJjNdqglJrnWj6AQjnjab7LuUJ_aG5W6n5xwXuSw4vDw83V1NJZG/s320/2012-11-11+Mythbutsters+4.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
They had a couple of audience
Q&A sessions where they took questions about everything from Jamie’s
mustache to the recent historic jump by Felix Baumgartner. They shared with us technical and legal
aspects of putting together the show, including some of their dealings with
their insurance company, a fiasco involving a cannon ball, and their commitment
to and actions with respect to safety.
According to Adam, the worst injuries that they have had on the show
have totaled three broken fingers. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Throughout the show, their humor
and love for the kind of work they do flowed through. From their stories about their experiments,
to their goofs with the audience (who were invited to participate in many of
their tricks), they were engaging and fun to watch. It was a fabulous was to spend a Sunday
evening.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Resources:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Jazz at the Bistro: <a href="http://jazzstl.org/jazz-at-the-bistro/">http://jazzstl.org/jazz-at-the-bistro/</a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The Fabulous Fox Theater: <a href="http://www.fabulousfox.com/">http://www.fabulousfox.com/</a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Mythbusters Tour: <a href="http://www.mythbusterstour.com/">http://www.mythbusterstour.com/</a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-76019486041186987412012-11-04T21:15:00.000-06:002012-11-04T21:15:23.551-06:00My Secret Life As A Canvasser<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
*Disclaimer – there are no politics discussed in this post*</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This
election cycle, one of the candidates raised my hackles with a badly worded
comment. And so, I found myself
(uncharacteristically) volunteering for a political campaign. I wasn’t
so much supporting a particular candidate as I was working to defeat a complete
imbecile in what (sadly) has turned out to be a hotly contested race. My contribution to this effort was to go
canvassing door to door, an activity that took me from as far north as St. Ann,
down to South County and from Maplewood in the east to Chesterfield in the
west.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While I
can’t say that I saw “everything” while out canvassing, each trip out had the
potential for a bit of adventure. My very first evening out canvassing was
closed out when a man met me at the door while holding a ball-peen hammer. No, I’m not really sure why he was holding a
hammer, but I’m pretty sure he wasn’t using it to make artsy copper
jewelry. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3FwyZCGpsiJLN-TBJDIiobg_efyme1Ol-c9h7qJUxYtsRTEglK6vsEDIfE9MWVctGl6UmVHARN7z62n17ixaBq5kZhhseV0AdP5_CUNiJFkwwBjbPXhRW2KyQMhZGIEjbpb7qSv-DmOrU/s1600/2012-11-04+Canvassing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3FwyZCGpsiJLN-TBJDIiobg_efyme1Ol-c9h7qJUxYtsRTEglK6vsEDIfE9MWVctGl6UmVHARN7z62n17ixaBq5kZhhseV0AdP5_CUNiJFkwwBjbPXhRW2KyQMhZGIEjbpb7qSv-DmOrU/s320/2012-11-04+Canvassing.JPG" width="211" /></a> When
they send you out canvassing, they give you a list of voters to ask for at each
home. One of my favorite experiences occurred
when I asked a lady whether her daughter was home. She got all excited and asked “are you here
to talk to her about voting?” Umm…
Yes. I was. She invited me in and went and got her
daughter, who had recently turned 18 and was voting for the first time. The mother was more excited about the whole
process than the daughter, and I was glad that I was supposed to be doing the “get
out and vote” version of the script rather than the “persuade voters”
version. As ugly as this year’s election
has been, I’d rather talk to a new voter about the process than be another
discordant voice in the cacophony.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the head-shaking
and eyeball rolling front, I ran into one gentleman who was so firmly committed
to the other party that when I attempted to hand him a piece of literature,
reacted as though I had cooties.
Seriously, was he afraid that looking at a flyer would shake the bedrock
of his political beliefs? Or that gazing
at a photo of the opposing candidate might move him to question how he intended
to vote? I imagine him going out to the
sidewalk with a bucket of bleach water to wash the germs off from my passing…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And of
course, I discovered once again that it’s a small world after all. At one home that I visited, I met a lady that
I go to church with. In a back of the
envelope calculation, I figure I knocked on approximately 300 doors, and spoke
to 100 people, from which I extrapolate that I know approximately 1% of
registered voters. Given that there are
approximately 700,000 registered voters in St. Louis County, I think I can
safely say that I have met approximately 7,000 people over the last several
months. Okay, so maybe not “safely”- but
out of the 700,000 potential voters on my list, it is a bit wild that I ran
into someone I know.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the
end, all I have to say is get out and vote.
Whatever your political views, angst about the ugliness of this year’s
campaign, beef about the economy, annoyance about whoever’s handling of
whatever social issue, make sure your vote is counted.</div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-39433224615422761402012-10-21T23:17:00.000-05:002012-10-21T23:17:08.286-05:00Reflections On My New Home<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
This week marks seven months since
I moved to St. Louis. <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/02/introduction-moving-from-frozen-north.html">When I left Alaska</a>, it was with sadness to leave my friends, but with eagerness and
excitement to start a new life. I was
looking forward to crafting my life from the ground up, making new friends,
finding new haunts, and rediscovering myself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Along the way, you have patiently followed
bits and pieces of this adventure. You
have <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/05/bonus-post-sunday-night-swing.html">come dancing with me</a>, <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-ultimate-chocolate-experience.html">enjoyed some hot cocoa</a>, taken numerous <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/08/a-walk-through-lafayette-park.html">walks in thepark</a>, and <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/04/dogs-cats-and-sheep.html">shopped</a> vicariously through me.
When I moved here, I assumed I would be spending three or four nights a
week on a jiu-jitsu mat, and instead I find myself spending that time on a
dance floor. I figured I would be lonely
the first several months, searching for friends, struggling to find a place; instead everywhere I go now, <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/08/around-world-in-80-minutes-well-more.html">I find people</a> who are genuinely happy to see
me again.</div>
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Life is what we make it, and I find
that the life that I am making for myself is wonderful and fulfilling. There is a certain balance to my life that
for many years was missing; emotional, social, physical, spiritual-
all of these things are coming together in a cornucopia of life.</div>
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No, it has not always been an easy
journey. My first couple of months, I
did every random thing that crossed my path as I searched for those
routines that would help define this new chapter of my life. This led me to a <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/06/olympic-glory.html">gymnastics meet</a>, <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/09/jazz-in-air-on-street-and-in-community.html">outdoorconcerts</a>, and the occasional <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/07/soulard-market.html">farmers' market</a>.
Some of these have become integral parts of my life (such as <a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/09/rollin-on-river.html">swing dancing</a>), and
others have a definite “been there, done that” flavor (<a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/05/there-were-no-aliens-at-area-51.html">Area 51</a>). </div>
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I have made awesome new friends,
some for gossip, and others for hugs, and many more for a smile or a laugh any
time. </div>
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I’ve also learned a lot about
myself. My sense of rhythm is not awful,
as I have always believed. It is just
poorly developed- a skill rather than an innate talent. Meeting people is not a difficult task, it is
just another skill (which was also poorly developed). Downtime is something to be appreciated, but
like so many things in life, it is easier to appreciate when it is not excessive. </div>
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Where will I be at this time next
year? I don’t know. But I look forward to continuing to share my
adventures- there are more parks, festivals, museums, restaurants, <span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">concerts,
races, flea markets, dances and neighborhoods to wander through. Some of them may be places we have gone
before, but that’s okay. This is my home
now.</span></div>
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Thank you for continuing on this
journey with me. </div>
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<o:p>A few fall pictures from Forest Park for your enjoyment:</o:p></div>
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Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-79884443109515959062012-10-14T22:19:00.000-05:002012-10-14T22:29:31.156-05:00Dancing Chairs<br />
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Art – pretty, bold, intricate, minimal, visceral.</div>
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Some art simply seems to decorate a
space, providing some relief from the monotony of a beige concrete wall. Other art tells a clear story or captures a
particular scene. Occasionally art is so
abstract that it seems incomprehensible to anyone except the artist who created
it (and even then you wonder if they really had something in mind). Finally, on rare occasion, you will come
across a piece of artwork that simply speaks to you, engendering an almost
visceral reaction, bringing you back to it time after time, hoping that you can
recapture that initial feeling of wonder.</div>
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This
summer, I came across a sculpture like that here in St. Louis. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjX-I9UzlFeXchS6B-XSRM-feeNmH2ymKm4mzqJTvmHy0efAHhrd28X69t4MFk_I0Et0KIXrT5q8gZQjef7pVJpkgf1Lw41AXxOMFnT0kyV4yC_EYkwmM4UTgacS-pAAlPFdulNlk4dtAb/s1600/Dancing+Chairs+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjX-I9UzlFeXchS6B-XSRM-feeNmH2ymKm4mzqJTvmHy0efAHhrd28X69t4MFk_I0Et0KIXrT5q8gZQjef7pVJpkgf1Lw41AXxOMFnT0kyV4yC_EYkwmM4UTgacS-pAAlPFdulNlk4dtAb/s320/Dancing+Chairs+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The
first time I saw the Dancing Chairs was in August when I was playing Kickball
for Kids. I was wandering around the
perimeter of the game fields and came upon it.
I stopped, and the strains of B. B. King singing “Saturday Night Fish
Fry” floated through my head as the chairs came alive and danced before my
eyes.</div>
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I could
see the turns and sugar pushes, the walks, the sweat hearts, and the neck
wraps. The synergy between the lead and
follow was perfect; the dance expressed joy and laughter, transporting the
dancers into their own personal world.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_01MpASkNr2nJ2kcbeyfqaALASniRg1a2INDgpyNvWjUgfWVdsIY1varQHUIJpHNxYwAu_eCactbCtEQPwe1BmJ_SpQfB99C5ldFduekw_LVB2HMRzEe4zx9jDDU4hq1O4JEJDlSnl7MJ/s1600/Dancing+Chairs+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_01MpASkNr2nJ2kcbeyfqaALASniRg1a2INDgpyNvWjUgfWVdsIY1varQHUIJpHNxYwAu_eCactbCtEQPwe1BmJ_SpQfB99C5ldFduekw_LVB2HMRzEe4zx9jDDU4hq1O4JEJDlSnl7MJ/s320/Dancing+Chairs+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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More
than that, I saw myself dancing on that grassy dance floor, moving my hips to a
lively beat, and twirling my cares away as the singer in my mind's song was
being dragged out from under the bathtub.
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I
skipped a few steps down the sidewalk, dancing from one end of the sculpture to
the other, imagining the choreography that would capture the dance the chairs
were engaged in, before I ran off to play some more kickball.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyyxYmpGeF8B9iThZ3CQ2E4VuXkiiXpLN1ztXykKDZYRN1CYO9oUY3Jlp31q8GyjwGNJLuEHdp7dTZQDEVMrrvefNbeN98tupzcBYW7wYSBaEg0zmoZ16L4PPWpILZ_t5wG9Hd5FYmOa0I/s1600/Dancing+Chairs+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyyxYmpGeF8B9iThZ3CQ2E4VuXkiiXpLN1ztXykKDZYRN1CYO9oUY3Jlp31q8GyjwGNJLuEHdp7dTZQDEVMrrvefNbeN98tupzcBYW7wYSBaEg0zmoZ16L4PPWpILZ_t5wG9Hd5FYmOa0I/s320/Dancing+Chairs+3.JPG" width="212" /></a> The
sculpture is <a href="http://www.art-stl.com/public-art/public-art-details.cfm?pid=147&title=Dancing%20Chairs&artist1=Rod%20Baer">Dancing Chairs by Rod Baer</a>.
It is located just to the north of the ball fields of Shaw Park in Clayton.</div>
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Description: <a href="http://www.art-stl.com/public-art/public-art-details.cfm?pid=147&title=Dancing%20Chairs&artist1=Rod%20Baer">http://www.art-stl.com/public-art/public-art-details.cfm?pid=147&title=Dancing%20Chairs&artist1=Rod%20Baer</a></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-10437990379045657412012-10-07T22:48:00.000-05:002012-10-07T22:48:25.167-05:00A Bit of Cool and Missourians Pull Out the Winter Coats...<br />
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With a
bit of nip in the air, my new hometown has decided that the cold has arrived,
and they should bundle up in parkas, scarves, and mittens. I must say that I get some odd looks running
around in sleeveless shirts because it just isn’t cold enough yet to admit
defeat to autumn. But yes, I have also
pulled out my sweatshirts, my fun ponchos, and all the wonderful fall clothing
that I got weird looks wearing in summer in Alaska, but fall was too cold to
enjoy them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUoyanS_B6EsphCSLwC-oXorkp-wE1WG7SWSYWr0o-yptMrrNABaWNvjC-oBfoV6zloaMegQ7mi7taswfRya6atQQ8zJ7KxMTqdN4mPEZAi3Ic3jzQ6b4KRvEjTgZj3Fjdawgg7AXsZ8Yt/s1600/Best+of+Missouri+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUoyanS_B6EsphCSLwC-oXorkp-wE1WG7SWSYWr0o-yptMrrNABaWNvjC-oBfoV6zloaMegQ7mi7taswfRya6atQQ8zJ7KxMTqdN4mPEZAi3Ic3jzQ6b4KRvEjTgZj3Fjdawgg7AXsZ8Yt/s320/Best+of+Missouri+1.JPG" width="320" /></a> Out
into a cool, but sunny, autumn afternoon I ventured yesterday. At the <a href="http://www.missouribotanicalgarden.org/">Botanical Gardens</a>, they were hosting a
“Best of Missouri” festival, with local restaurants, crafters, and vintners
selling their products. The festival was
packed with people, to the point that moving from one booth to the next was
akin to being caught in a river current.
You couldn’t stop if you wanted to in some places. There was live music perfect for dancing, and
a kids’ craft area back near the amphitheater. The photo is from the food area, which was not quite as crammed with people. </div>
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Honestly
though, the best part for me was the excuse to go walk through the gardens
again. Even with fall here, it was a
riot of color with flowers in bloom, trees turning color, and all of the
statuary again in prominence after the Lantern Festival.<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></div>
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Parking hint for
next year during the Best of Missouri – just give up on finding parking to
begin with, park down at the back end of the garden by Tower Grove Park and
walk. It is a lovely neighborhood full
of old houses, and the parking near the front of the garden is an absolute
nightmare for this particular event.</div>
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Missouri Botanical Gardens: <a href="http://www.missouribotanicalgarden.org/" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">http://www.missouribotanicalgarden.org/</a><br />
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Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-73175991126925627532012-09-30T21:16:00.001-05:002012-09-30T21:16:57.416-05:00The Confluence<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYiTd7h6AZvEdsZC5K1MAEsEanyMEgJdybebp8frDUZz-kVQjdy9kXjqITeQkfzEFPIIV_AbPLvIoReWktaKEZmdiZcy3MIS42OJX73-R4rgzQYC8o7FLqjRnfu-tmmYmEaatMNSurjFU8/s1600/2012-09-30+Lewis+and+Clark+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYiTd7h6AZvEdsZC5K1MAEsEanyMEgJdybebp8frDUZz-kVQjdy9kXjqITeQkfzEFPIIV_AbPLvIoReWktaKEZmdiZcy3MIS42OJX73-R4rgzQYC8o7FLqjRnfu-tmmYmEaatMNSurjFU8/s320/2012-09-30+Lewis+and+Clark+3.JPG" width="125" /></a> My dad
delights in annoying me- that friendly pestering that as a child made me
squeal, and as an adult generally either embarrasses me or makes me laugh. This, of course, is his prerogative as
Dad. Yesterday, we got each other with the
word “confluence.”</div>
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It
began with a stop at the <a href="http://www.stateforests.com/lewis_and_clark_state_memorial_park_in_illinois.html">Lewis and Clark State Memorial Park</a> which is located
in Illinois on the Mississippi River. It
is located near where Lewis and Clark camped before crossing the Mississippi River
and continuing up the Missouri River on their exploration of the west. Mom asked where the Missouri River joined the
Mississippi River and I told her that I thought that the confluence was a bit
north of where we were. Dad had to make
fun of me for pulling out a polysyllabic vocabulary word.</div>
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After
taking some pictures and discussing the merits of fishing the river for catfish,
we continued on to an observation tower that I had found a few weeks ago. As we pulled in, we discovered, much to our
amusement, that it is named the <a href="http://www.confluencetower.com/index.cfm">Lewis and Clark Confluence Tower</a>. </div>
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The
Confluence Tower is a relatively new monument to the intrepid explorers. The view from the top of the tower sweeps
from Alton, IL in the north to Saint Louis in the south. However, the real highlight of the view is
the confluence of the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers. From the tower, you can easily see the
Missouri flowing into the Mississippi from a unique perspective.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CzlqlVjOPkd5N-fJjHB_d9R2WPlZoTJNxvf-lKo2mUyXdWk2J916zN1KgKUXQyW6Ow2G6FP5SuCZclEbHy6o1rJWT1XpkGGHSHSMs9pvzWgcXK0e2E-iLfXABKUel6HWQR_fR83KzzPN/s1600/2012-09-30+Lewis+and+Clark+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CzlqlVjOPkd5N-fJjHB_d9R2WPlZoTJNxvf-lKo2mUyXdWk2J916zN1KgKUXQyW6Ow2G6FP5SuCZclEbHy6o1rJWT1XpkGGHSHSMs9pvzWgcXK0e2E-iLfXABKUel6HWQR_fR83KzzPN/s400/2012-09-30+Lewis+and+Clark+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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After we
came down from the tower, Mom wanted to take a picture of me with this great
fountain in the monument’s courtyard. It
is one of those fountains where the spout is flush with the ground, and the
courtyard and fountain form a continuous plane.
From when I first saw it, I had visions of kids running through it in
the summer burning off energy built up during a road trip while cooling off. Mom’s idea of taking a picture of me included
me standing a few feet from it and smiling, but I had a different plan. After giving her instructions to click the
shutter as soon as I entered the frame “because I’m only doing this once”, I took
the plunge, quite literally. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7l9_k4GVt8EiEhF6H7rdJtV2fyRPczz9WwHrhwMQa0H7haavvy11W5x8yfFaKvW6dxmYRssbyJB6KhV_BsyPu0Ogp4OX21Wmi37kACeNVj7qDdt5OUbwC4V4fCx4p29v8A0QGb1ZkPpi/s1600/2012-09-30+Lewis+and+Clark+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7l9_k4GVt8EiEhF6H7rdJtV2fyRPczz9WwHrhwMQa0H7haavvy11W5x8yfFaKvW6dxmYRssbyJB6KhV_BsyPu0Ogp4OX21Wmi37kACeNVj7qDdt5OUbwC4V4fCx4p29v8A0QGb1ZkPpi/s200/2012-09-30+Lewis+and+Clark+2.JPG" width="119" /></a> To say
I got soaked would be completely accurate.
Mom thinks that I would have won the wet t-shirt contest if there was
one and the look of absolute disbelief on Dad’s face was worth having to wear
damp jeans for the rest of the day. Thankfully,
I had a fleece jacket in the car, so I changed into a dry top, and we continued
on our merry way.</div>
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Note: A special thank you to Mom for this week’s pictures.</div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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Lewis and Clark State Memorial Park: <a href="http://www.stateforests.com/lewis_and_clark_state_memorial_park_in_illinois.html">http://www.stateforests.com/lewis_and_clark_state_memorial_park_in_illinois.html</a></div>
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<br /></div>
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Lewis and Clark Confluence Tower: <a href="http://www.confluencetower.com/index.cfm">http://www.confluencetower.com/index.cfm</a></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-82779624859919650022012-09-24T21:19:00.002-05:002012-09-24T21:19:53.727-05:00The Ultimate Chocolate Experience<br />
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Everyone knows that when you get
that craving on a Saturday afternoon for a bit of chocolate, it can easily be
satisfied with a Hershey’s bar from the local QuikTrip, when you want to make
the stockings a bit upscale at Christmas, you throw in a Lindt milk chocolate
Santa, and when you want to spoil your Mom, you bring her a box of Godivas (or sometimes, she spoils you and buys you both chocolate covered strawberries...).</div>
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<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">However, here in St. Louis, when
you want to do Chocolate right, there is </span><a href="http://www.bissingers.com/" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Bissinger’s</a><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">.</span></div>
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Saturday,
a girl friend and I decided to have a bit of dessert before we started on an
evening of dancing until our feet hurt. Having
consulted my favorite concierge, Google, I discovered that there is a Bissinger’s
shop in the Central West End. In
addition to making some of the smoothest dark chocolate you will ever
experience, they have a café that serves a variety of desserts. </div>
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We
found a parking spot conveniently located close to the dance club, and walked
over to the Bissinger’s. (If you haven’t
spent time in Central West End, let me assure you that this is a fun walk, with
lots of people out enjoying the local restaurants and hip shops.)</div>
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Stepping
into Bissinger’s is akin to walking into the Tiffany’s of chocolate shops. The counter is lined with delectable looking
truffles and boxes of tasty delights. I’m
pretty sure that I could spend more on one pound of chocolate than I spend on
groceries for a week. The host led us to
a low table with some very comfortable chairs that we would have killed for a few
hours later when our feet were aching from dancing.</div>
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Looking
over the menu, the decision was extraordinarily difficult to make. Chocolate Truffle Tart? White Chocolate Blueberry Bread Pudding? Decadent Chocolate Brownie? I couldn’t make a decision! In the end, my miserly nature kicked in and I
ordered a hot chocolate. How boring is
that? Seriously, I’m confronted with
what is quite possibly the most extravagant list of desserts that I could wish
for, and I order a hot chocolate? Ohh,
but I don’t regret that decision. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnOK5wRl5reNVI4F20sGcoTMDGu7K4YjgZRIIL0291WlwR6cyQIexu5PeC7yr4LlnGm0nHRgaAI6DjGdQ1LuCRPTb91vzBRYL-1Vz0DQ4C388xrMN4t94a472A_8CF7_Xpr7C9xGD6PF6P/s1600/2012-09-24+Hot+Cocoa+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnOK5wRl5reNVI4F20sGcoTMDGu7K4YjgZRIIL0291WlwR6cyQIexu5PeC7yr4LlnGm0nHRgaAI6DjGdQ1LuCRPTb91vzBRYL-1Vz0DQ4C388xrMN4t94a472A_8CF7_Xpr7C9xGD6PF6P/s320/2012-09-24+Hot+Cocoa+2.JPG" width="320" /></a>The hot
chocolate came out in white porcelain mugs, topped with a generous helping of
real whipped cream and chocolate shavings.
It was frothy and wonderful, so wonderful looking that I whipped out my Iphone
to take some pictures and memorize the moment.
And then, I sipped it – smooth, chocolately, with overtones of vanilla,
just the right temperature to enjoy. </div>
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Sitting
in my comfortable chair, with a cup of hot cocoa goodness, and a good friend to
enjoy the evening with, I could only reflect on the joy of life’s simple
pleasures. This was a place where time could stop, and two friends could relax and giggle like little girls pretending to be sophisticates while talking about boys and clothes and books and whatever else girl friends talk about. It was a with a certain but
short lived reluctance that we left Bissinger’s for the rest of our evening’s
adventures.</div>
<br /><br />Bissinger’s at Maryland Plaza <br />Central West End<br /> 32 Maryland Plaza<br /> Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 <br /><br /><a href="http://www.bissingers.com/">http://www.bissingers.com/</a>Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-46474292656555296562012-09-17T22:07:00.000-05:002012-09-17T22:12:09.443-05:00Jazz in the Air, on the Street, and in the Community<br />
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There
is a cool scent in the air that only comes when summer turns toward autumn; it
is the rich scent of damp earth and newly fallen leaves. For me, it is a bittersweet fragrance because
for, so many years, it was the precursor to months of darkness and social
hibernation. I have to wonder what
adventures the winter will bring me here in my new hometown. For now though, I will enjoy the last of the
summer hurrahs.</div>
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Saturday
night one of those hurrahs was the <a href="http://www.oldwebsterjazzfestival.com/cpsiteframepage.lasso?-token.lpuserref=114131.113118">Old Webster Jazz and Blues Festival</a>. The festival is held each year in historic
Webster Groves, a delightful area filled with restaurants and shops. A friend and I wandered down to the festival in
the middle of the afternoon, and found relatively easy parking back in the
neighborhoods. Since we didn’t see
anyone toting around lawn chairs, we left ours in the car, grabbed our cameras
and water bottles and headed towards the stages. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15zk4YG0so-12A-lwVaa9lwAaH5mjncxsnNhVui5mnnFu27xJUKrbTcmM5YLwIh-a0akQ4pe-bzK26RdCVgZOhGRiQSIvl_hnYGr7mIYv2WxxblPF8aXnm8-42eRRoBDZeyLzR0W0grrS/s1600/2012-09-16+Jazz+Festival+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15zk4YG0so-12A-lwVaa9lwAaH5mjncxsnNhVui5mnnFu27xJUKrbTcmM5YLwIh-a0akQ4pe-bzK26RdCVgZOhGRiQSIvl_hnYGr7mIYv2WxxblPF8aXnm8-42eRRoBDZeyLzR0W0grrS/s320/2012-09-16+Jazz+Festival+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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There were two stages set up and
rocking all afternoon and into the night.
The mix of music included classic and contemporary jazz, blues, and a
bit of rock and roll. The music was
great and the people watching was excellent.
We found a couple of chairs and settled in for an afternoon of
entertainment. </div>
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Up near the stage, there were couples
swinging to the music and random people throughout the crowd would stand up in the middle of
songs to dance along. When the bands
took breaks, there was a group of street musicians that wandered through the
crowd ensuring that just because the main show wasn’t playing, the music was
flowing.</div>
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I think that the best surprise of
the afternoon was the Webster Groves High School Band. They were very accomplished and smooth, and a
joy to listen to. Their repertoire was
diverse and featured solos by various students throughout.</div>
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The food was awesome, and
restaurants all through the district were open and busy. We tried the homemade potato chips from <a href="http://www.cjmuggs.com/">CJMuggs</a>, and they were addictive. We also
made a stop in at <a href="http://www.drjazzwebstergroves.com/">Dr. Jazz Ice Cream Parlor</a> for a scoop of heaven on a waffle
cone. (Dr. Jazz is worth a trip to Webster Groves all by itself.)</div>
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Sadly, due to us both being a bit under the weather, we decided to leave before
the headline acts performed, but this is something I am definitely putting on
my calendar for next year.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf56dofmaJAJG8-daptjVYc4g6grj7Ep57jMz081eOTC5NMWgqkvoII_8-zoJcC5NHM6MSmX90FacuJtUJZRPcJwmRE6K2xnMnuNODQEDihYre8O-YOMyet7BICHR7UnJDJEk17Op1OoHb/s1600/2012-09-16+Jazz+Festival+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf56dofmaJAJG8-daptjVYc4g6grj7Ep57jMz081eOTC5NMWgqkvoII_8-zoJcC5NHM6MSmX90FacuJtUJZRPcJwmRE6K2xnMnuNODQEDihYre8O-YOMyet7BICHR7UnJDJEk17Op1OoHb/s320/2012-09-16+Jazz+Festival+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<u>Resources:</u></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Old Webster Jazz and Blues Festival: <a href="http://www.oldwebsterjazzfestival.com/cpsiteframepage.lasso?-token.lpuserref=114131.113118">http://www.oldwebsterjazzfestival.com/cpsiteframepage.lasso?-token.lpuserref=114131.113118</a></div>
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<br /></div>
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CJ Muggs: <a href="http://www.cjmuggs.com/">http://www.cjmuggs.com/</a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Dr. Jazz Ice Cream Parlor: <a href="http://www.drjazzwebstergroves.com/">http://www.drjazzwebstergroves.com/</a> </div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-25258324459955749342012-09-03T10:01:00.000-05:002012-09-03T10:01:25.298-05:00Rollin’ On The River<br />
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What
elements combine to ensure a fantastic and memorable weekend? Good music?
Hanging out with old friends?
Making new friends? Dancing until
your feet hurt and the DJ goes home? If
these sound like the ingredients to a memorable weekend, then we are cruising
on the same steamboat to <a href="http://www.wcsdc.com/ROTRPage.html">Rollin’ On The River</a>, an annual Swing dancing shindig
hosted by the <a href="http://www.wcsdc.com/">West County Swing Dance Club</a>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
weekend kicked off late Thursday night when my best friend from college (whom I
hadn’t seen in over ten years) arrived in St. Louis from Arizona wearing a
leopard print cowboy hat. I’d forgotten
how tall she is, but I had not forgotten her wry sense of humor and easy going
nature. All of these, by the way, worked
in her favor for getting dance partners as the weekend went on.</div>
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Saturday
morning, we drug our exhausted bodies out of bed and went to some dance
workshops in the morning, took a nap in the afternoon, and then danced the
night away. Our dance partners included
people from Chicago, Indiana, Cincinnati, and elsewhere. Over 500 people from 26 states joined in the
fun. For me, the evening was about
getting comfortable dancing with new people and learning to relax into it. There were so many new people to dance with,
and the atmosphere was so much more relaxed, almost euphoric, than any of the
regular dances I go to here in town.</div>
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For my
“Tall Friend from Arizona”, as she came to be known, I quickly discovered that
all of my worries that she might feel left out were completely unfounded. She was the hit of the dance floor. Between her stature, excellence as a dancer,
and willingness to ask people to dance, she had no lack of partners all weekend
long.</div>
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Over
the course of the weekend, we made new friends and grew as dancers. I actually started hearing the music that I
dance to, rather than perceiving it as a distraction to the physical feedback I
was trying to sense in my partners’ frames.
Some of my regular partners commented that my dancing had smoothed out
(although I still bungle their leads every now and then). Some of the guys from out of town came and
found me for second and third and fourth dances, an enormous boost to my
confidence on the dance floor.</div>
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My
friend rediscovered the joy of dancing in a more social setting than her school
offers. In what may sound like a strange
comment, she also discovered that she can unconsciously follow a lead when one
of the out of town guys started her off in a Fox Trot; she didn’t realize until
halfway through the song that they weren’t doing a swing. For her, that Fox Trot was the most memorable
dance of the weekend.</div>
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After
three nights of dancing until our feet hurt and we were too woozy with the late
hours to make coherent conversation, we hung up our dancing shoes and started
making plans for next year’s Rollin’ On The River. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqX6edSuo6t_G-0fhEgBbRRt_sL5Uh6FO3hI-EOVOkK0t7iKY1pW2EdNyrY4P5WYnH3RKZp-ZDZcloq-afJAgaNqxB5w28eSyi_HmxItOe9cJrzAn8HSbGQssGLR5b82HMw-G41Hri5L9D/s1600/2012-09-03+Rollin'+On+the+River.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqX6edSuo6t_G-0fhEgBbRRt_sL5Uh6FO3hI-EOVOkK0t7iKY1pW2EdNyrY4P5WYnH3RKZp-ZDZcloq-afJAgaNqxB5w28eSyi_HmxItOe9cJrzAn8HSbGQssGLR5b82HMw-G41Hri5L9D/s400/2012-09-03+Rollin'+On+the+River.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<o:p><u>Web Resources:</u></o:p></div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li>Rollin' On the River: <a href="http://www.wcsdc.com/ROTRPage.html">http://www.wcsdc.com/ROTRPage.html</a></li>
<li>Sponsored by the West County Swing Dance Club: <a href="http://www.wcsdc.com/">http://www.wcsdc.com/</a></li>
<li>Sanctioned by the American Bop Association: <a href="http://www.americanbopassociation.com/">http://www.americanbopassociation.com/</a></li>
<li>A Shameless Plug for my Club, Southside Imperial Swing Dance Club: <a href="http://www.southsidedance.org/">http://www.southsidedance.org/</a></li>
</ul>
<br />
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-73939096402391921232012-08-26T21:38:00.001-05:002012-08-26T21:38:30.892-05:00Around the World in 80 Minutes (Well, More Like 3 Hours) From
fruit filled empanadas to curry to egg rolls-<br />
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from strawberry lemonade to coconut
juice to Thai iced tea-</div>
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from Irish jigs to Haitian rhythms
to Kung Fu-</div>
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It was at the <a href="http://www.festivalofnationsstl.org/">Festival of Nations</a>.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Today, people from different
cultures around the world came together at Tower Grove Park to share the music
and flavors of their home with the rest of St. Louis.</div>
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My afternoon started with a
beautiful walk through Tower Grove Park. <span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">On the path through the park,
numerous families walked with me, and I got my first impression of the
diversity that the festival attracted – an Indian family passed me by as I was
taking pictures of the trees, an African family sat on the bench while the
father fanned his young daughter, and a gaggle of American teenagers chattered
on their cell phones trying to locate another one of their friends.</span></div>
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As I got closer to the festival,
the crowd of people on the path with me got denser. Music wafted through the trees, not the jazz
and blues I have become accustomed to here in St. Louis, but the syncopated rhythms
of Caribbean. The air smelled rich with
curry, but every time the breeze changed it was a different curry. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2dxs07xOtc5nGnQOAvNKwb-nvp5Pm1Sy7LJkm-cOir6BtIrokuoT1TJ1QBFrm1P2C-ZDmaKn6GazedtL2GakjjxvaM785EFntsSX3_x31X248qhM5VpqirlsnZX32AKd3fx9ACa0iocx/s1600/2012-08-26+Festival+of+Nations+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2dxs07xOtc5nGnQOAvNKwb-nvp5Pm1Sy7LJkm-cOir6BtIrokuoT1TJ1QBFrm1P2C-ZDmaKn6GazedtL2GakjjxvaM785EFntsSX3_x31X248qhM5VpqirlsnZX32AKd3fx9ACa0iocx/s320/2012-08-26+Festival+of+Nations+4.JPG" width="320" /></a>To my great delight, I ran into one
of my friends. (Just how cool is it that
I know enough people in my new hometown that I can run into them in random
situations?) We decided to explore the
fair together and started with the food row.
After walking up and down the row checking out each of the booths, we
stopped at the Jamaican booth for jerked chicken and rum cake. The food was delicious; apparently the
word had gotten around because it had one of the longest lines of any of the
booths. </div>
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We took our food over to one of the
pavilions and watched a band from Haiti while we ate. In a bizarre aside, a guy who was sharing our picnic table with turned to us and gave his testimony. (Right on, Brother! Amen! Can I finish my rum cake now?) I’m still not sure if he was in the exact
wrong place or the exact right place for his mission today; the crowd
represented just as diverse a faith base as the vendors. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSo9FxetoqrGXF_OYd0nZBn_PdECfhQfr24vRGwSUGTa9bxzmHkZnNERkaCdNZWVN4Pv5DkHAROnxaMmrfSPLQYRfLX8HPeFDRvXFrBQdyHFNp8S-AC0y3Bi9Y5eIzyERUp_aqL_dDbe6l/s1600/2012-08-26+Festival+of+Nations+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSo9FxetoqrGXF_OYd0nZBn_PdECfhQfr24vRGwSUGTa9bxzmHkZnNERkaCdNZWVN4Pv5DkHAROnxaMmrfSPLQYRfLX8HPeFDRvXFrBQdyHFNp8S-AC0y3Bi9Y5eIzyERUp_aqL_dDbe6l/s320/2012-08-26+Festival+of+Nations+2.JPG" width="320" /></a>After lunch, we walked around to
the different vendors and checked out the silver jewelry from Mexico, purses
and scarves from Ecuador, the nested dolls from Russia, and carved figurines
from various African nations. Little
girls were running around the festival with parasols from China, and someone
was selling whistles which added to the cacophony. </div>
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Throughout the festival stages were
set-up and featured different performers such as a troupe of young women
playing taiko drums and a group of kids doing Irish jigs. We saw one gal dressed in a sequined
dress who from her hair style I would bet money was demoing South American
dance (tango, rumba, cha-cha? I didn’t get to see her perform). </div>
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In all, it was an exciting way to
spend the afternoon, not to mention the serendipity of a friend to share it with.<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">So many different
people, from all walks of life were out to enjoy the afternoon, eat some food,
and listen to the music. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-L37y9mCbm0qj8Ml0_AL3C1juq5r7OKvZKZ902ytiusfVRPjkljGmaRjQ0CTja-3_mCMeMnUAR4FgJyyZYknZ7AKKGYmGCrR89eNuIVhGruHGc72hDvXdaTuPB3ryR4tA65pt5aQgqOd/s1600/2012-08-26+Festival+of+Nations+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-L37y9mCbm0qj8Ml0_AL3C1juq5r7OKvZKZ902ytiusfVRPjkljGmaRjQ0CTja-3_mCMeMnUAR4FgJyyZYknZ7AKKGYmGCrR89eNuIVhGruHGc72hDvXdaTuPB3ryR4tA65pt5aQgqOd/s320/2012-08-26+Festival+of+Nations+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.festivalofnationsstl.org/">http://www.festivalofnationsstl.org/</a></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-37715849232780712942012-08-20T21:56:00.003-05:002012-08-20T21:56:36.514-05:00And Jill Came Tumbling After...<br />
<br />
Forest Park is a place of great delights. Some of the fun I have shared here (<a href="http://wanderingstl.blogspot.com/2012/03/jewel-in-forest-park.html">TheJewel Box</a>), other fun perhaps was over shadowed (Shakespeare in the Park).
A few weeks ago, I discovered another center of joy in Forest Park – Art
Hill.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkei4kT_C2GfLwkOw9RGPhbVaXLmG-VsM99K4cuQssuBOyGI4bZN54ASVg7mqcYZ1TSPEeP3a7X0jagOyCc38t0JBy2002T0udbSNFqk6Ng-ORjE7EIn3XrP4yA4NUzebPDchuMq5L7F3e/s1600/2012-08-20+Somersaults+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkei4kT_C2GfLwkOw9RGPhbVaXLmG-VsM99K4cuQssuBOyGI4bZN54ASVg7mqcYZ1TSPEeP3a7X0jagOyCc38t0JBy2002T0udbSNFqk6Ng-ORjE7EIn3XrP4yA4NUzebPDchuMq5L7F3e/s320/2012-08-20+Somersaults+3.JPG" width="320" /></a>Art Hill is a grassy expanse of lawn that separates the Art
Museum from the Grand Basin. The first
afternoon that I came upon the Hill, I was escaping the air-conditioning in
order to enjoy the summer heat. The Hill was
covered in gigantic paper cranes. The
cranes had been battered by a thunderstorm, but it was still an incredible
sight.</div>
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<br /></div>
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This last weekend, a friend and I joined in with several
hundred other people in an attempt to break the record for most people doing a
somersault at the same time. A
bit before 2pm, people began gathering on Art Hill, covering the hillside like
the cranes had a few weeks before. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Typical of Forest Park, a complete cross section of Saint
Louis was represented. Some people had
read about the event in the paper, others were just wandering by and decided to
check out the excitement. Lots of
families with small children, a whole squad of cheerleaders, and the random
bicyclist were ready to go rolling down the hill, grass stains and all.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We stood around on the hill in reasonably neat lines for 45 minutes or so waiting
for the signal to roll. I think that
they were waiting as long as possible in order to get as many people to roll as
they could. The official record that we
were trying to break was 835 people. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLl9wtvXCNJxgEme_WgwrurphoT9cl71rY7sruBaJpitIy0-yywYzbVqUwTop95IoFD99WeDsYsO4orQaDomXarCwz4JHe8vMTpjmcQE4YcgJPZvxTmHe3OunzRDCt6cBRpJm1XUjWhMvF/s1600/2012-08-20+Somersaults+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLl9wtvXCNJxgEme_WgwrurphoT9cl71rY7sruBaJpitIy0-yywYzbVqUwTop95IoFD99WeDsYsO4orQaDomXarCwz4JHe8vMTpjmcQE4YcgJPZvxTmHe3OunzRDCt6cBRpJm1XUjWhMvF/s320/2012-08-20+Somersaults+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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When the air horn went off, we all went tumbling head over
heels down the hill. Thankfully, it was
not in the best tradition of Jack and Jill, and everyone’s crowns came out
intact, if somewhat disheveled.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Sadly, according to the paper, we did not manage to break
the record. However, the fun of joining
700+ of my fellow Forest Park fanatics for a roll down Art Hill was worth the
trip out.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrjr31HCHt4iuug6uY4hrKwKXuFJ5o38kZCAwYWCC2Xf3ejQr4VwvCQHwmELXtE2y41E8sMb9KzMZiy5aanE8vcORxN0mRuPufkca6wa8gJp5pO1unoylR3qdm8HLzrx0IZVUC7lUywlHc/s1600/2012-08-20+Somersaults+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrjr31HCHt4iuug6uY4hrKwKXuFJ5o38kZCAwYWCC2Xf3ejQr4VwvCQHwmELXtE2y41E8sMb9KzMZiy5aanE8vcORxN0mRuPufkca6wa8gJp5pO1unoylR3qdm8HLzrx0IZVUC7lUywlHc/s320/2012-08-20+Somersaults+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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About the cranes: <a href="http://www.stltoday.com/suburban-journals/metro/life/backstopper-fundraiser-on-art-hill-raises/article_d271424e-e438-5a6a-9fb5-0b011d75f17e.html">http://www.stltoday.com/suburban-journals/metro/life/backstopper-fundraiser-on-art-hill-raises/article_d271424e-e438-5a6a-9fb5-0b011d75f17e.html</a>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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The record attempt: <a href="http://www.stltoday.com/news/local/metro/somersault-record-attempt-fails-but-fun-had-by-all/article_aab9db9b-5809-52fb-8f59-14d69152cb0e.html">http://www.stltoday.com/news/local/metro/somersault-record-attempt-fails-but-fun-had-by-all/article_aab9db9b-5809-52fb-8f59-14d69152cb0e.html</a>
</div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-16124228123876355442012-08-13T20:30:00.001-05:002012-08-13T20:30:49.865-05:00Batman Versus the Ninja<br />
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In a
battle of the warriors, who wins, Batman or the Ninja? Both have stealth on their side, cool
weapons, and great fight moves. And they
both have their very own roller coasters at Six Flags St. Louis. </div>
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Today,
a friend and I played hooky (okay, so we responsibly put in for vacation a few
weeks ago) and went to get our adrenaline fix at <a href="http://www.sixflags.com/stLouis/index.aspx">Six Flags</a>. It was a perfect day to be in the park. The weather was cool with a bit of overcast
and schools are starting up, so while there were kids there, the park didn’t
feel overrun. </div>
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Wanting
to get the most out of our rather pricy tickets (plus parking fees) we arrived
at opening, and, relatively methodically, went around the park riding different
roller coasters. Okay, so we also threw
in a carrousel, some water rides, and this fantastic swing ride, but we were
there for the roller coasters.</div>
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Our
first ride was American Thunder, a wooden roller coaster with some steep drops,
but even better were the tight, tight corners.
I’ll admit that perhaps my choice of pancakes and bacon at the Cracker
Barrel was perhaps not the best choice before getting on this ride. However, the second time around (after my
breakfast had some time to settle), it was awesome. Distinctly awesome.</div>
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</div>
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Next up
was Batman, a loop-de-loop of a ride, where your feet dangle in the open air
while you sail up and down and around and around in an awesome corkscrew. Coming into the platform, the ride leaves you
dizzy from the spinning and high from an adrenaline rush rarely equaled. Coming off the ride, the only thing I wanted
to do was turn around and get right back on it.
</div>
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</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhpjxnYZbMOt6aQ-lWm-DDUk_K4uCVOIGf3goFdg0cfqCQ2MbEoA5HFWMBMlP1QoMQfJuegtfX2tTzfrUL4XkINuoFGHLHX_86kpb0FibzzNotpp6qdMnZh6liqsQoovMFZzbecRB20W9Q/s1600/2012-08-13+Six+Flags.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhpjxnYZbMOt6aQ-lWm-DDUk_K4uCVOIGf3goFdg0cfqCQ2MbEoA5HFWMBMlP1QoMQfJuegtfX2tTzfrUL4XkINuoFGHLHX_86kpb0FibzzNotpp6qdMnZh6liqsQoovMFZzbecRB20W9Q/s320/2012-08-13+Six+Flags.jpg" width="219" /></a><br />
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Sadly,
compared to Batman, the Ninja was a disappointment. It still had some fun loop-de-loops, but I
guess that a few throwing stars can’t compare to the bat mobile. For future reference, I’ll ride the Ninja
first and then get on the Batman, or maybe just put a few more rides between
the two. Don’t get me wrong, the Ninja is
an awesome roller coaster, it just didn’t give me the same rush.</div>
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The Screamin’
Eagle, another wooden roller coaster, is apparently the oldest roller coaster
in the park. At first it reminded me of
Zingo from the (now defunct) Bell’s Amusement Park in Tulsa. However, I think that it must be Zingo’s big
brother. The ride had bounce and roll
that viscerally reminded me of Zingo, but it went on and on. Where some of the rides were over all too
quickly, this one allowed the pleasure of the ride to be fully realized before the
ride came to the end.</div>
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If I
were to rank my favorite rides of the day, the last roller coaster we rode
would be #2 behind Batman. The Boss, so
rightly named, is at the pinnacle of his career. Or perhaps the pinnacle of his first hill sets
up the ride for an exhilarating race up and down some of the most amazing hills
of the day. It was another ride where as
soon as I got off the only thing I wanted to do was get in line again.</div>
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Sadly,
the day had to come to an end, and we didn’t get to ride either the Pandemonium
or Mr. Freeze. However, both looked like
they were worth making another day’s trip to Six Flags; even if they don’t turn
out to be super cool rides, Batman and the Boss will more than make up for it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<o:p>Six Flags St. Louis: </o:p><a href="http://www.sixflags.com/stLouis/index.aspx">http://www.sixflags.com/stLouis/index.aspx</a></div>
Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-56593507328276589282012-08-07T07:27:00.000-05:002012-08-07T07:27:35.469-05:00A Walk Through Lafayette ParkA few weeks ago, I spent an afternoon wandering around Lafayette Park. In size, you can walk from one side of Lafayette Park to the other in a few minutes, passing statues, ducks, and lawns begging for picnic blankets. In gardens, Lafayette Park can be made into a whole day's outing. There are two distinct garden areas in the park. The first is a tree lined garden walk that is bordered with black eyed susans and chunks of crystal encrusted limestone. The second is larger series of flower beds that follows the stream that flows out from the park's pond. <br />
<br />
In addition to the gardens, they have several statues, and three Revolutionary War era canons that were dredged up from the Charleston Harbor. And of course, the park is surrounded by gorgeous old houses.<br />
<br />
The afternoon that I was there was typically hot, and there were not many people out enjoying the park. However, in milder weather, the park must be filled with people throwing frisbees, flying kites, and having picnics. As with many of the local neighborhoods, Lafayette Park has a series of outdoor concerts, and even sponsors movie nights. Later this summer, they are showing Madagascar.<br />
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I always love the black-eyed susans. Even when all the other wildflowers seem to have given up, their perky blossoms line the road side in swathes of yellow.</div>
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It is worth your while to click on the rock above and see the crystals. When I first saw the rocks lining the flower beds, I thought to myself, oh, more limestone. Then the abundant crystal formations glittered in the sunlight. </div>
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These are one of two flowers that every time I see them, I remember one of my girlfriends back in Alaska. Her garden always featured beautiful tiger lilies and hostas. </div>
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The swan spent the better part of an hour grooming itself. I know, I watched. However, given how green the water was, I can only imagine the ick that it needed to get out of its feathers. </div>
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I was delighted to find this hosta in bloom, again thinking of my Alaskan friend.</div>
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<br />Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612332381531217171.post-18802320375274195492012-07-31T21:52:00.000-05:002012-07-31T21:52:35.325-05:00Road Trip! Flea Markets and Motorcycles…<br />
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Last
Saturday, a friend and I made the trip across the mighty Mississippi River to
Grafton, Illinois to their monthly flea market.
While the flea market was fun,
the road trip was worth the day.</div>
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First,
we got lost. I love getting lost. My friend was driving, and didn’t seem so
excited about it, but I enjoyed the side trip.
We ended up driving through a working class area in northern St. Louis
(I believe she referred to the area as North County). As with so many neighborhoods around here,
there were a number of abandoned houses, their charm marred by broken windows.</div>
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We
crossed the river at Alton and followed it up to Grafton. Limestone bluffs towered above the road on
our right while the river flowed south on our left. While I don’t think that this fall is going
to produce brilliant fall foliage, most years the trees lining the road must be
spectacular. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNWBArY5WXxmpdDSxalOQGVRwdx-7J3mD6A6kbogSHRQte97F25ghZtf7OFJWfJc1TLrXalz8KOQoZ5owOqsoeY0gq_F9ZaShwcZlOLftfuIYTXDooINYcx7FrLgL0cYFuSIV4vP6m41og/s1600/2012-07-31+Grafton+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNWBArY5WXxmpdDSxalOQGVRwdx-7J3mD6A6kbogSHRQte97F25ghZtf7OFJWfJc1TLrXalz8KOQoZ5owOqsoeY0gq_F9ZaShwcZlOLftfuIYTXDooINYcx7FrLgL0cYFuSIV4vP6m41og/s320/2012-07-31+Grafton+1.JPG" width="320" /></a> <a href="http://www.graftonloadingdock.com/flea_market.html">Grafton’s flea market</a> is in an old warehouse called the Loading Dock on the waterfront. The warehouse was packed with vendors selling
everything from old tools and glassware to yard art made from flatware. I really wanted a butterfly made from spoons, but I talked
myself out it. If the artist is there
next time I go, I am definitely getting myself a butterfly. </div>
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My
favorite was a guy who was creating wire wrapped jewelry while you waited. I picked out a beautiful stone bead of I don’t know
what and watched while he created a pendant just for me. It was so odd; he didn’t know I am a
butterfly person, but by the time he had finished wrapping the bead, there was
a butterfly twisted into the wire.</div>
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After
we were done at the flea market, we went wandering around town. The streets were filled with motorcycles, all
kinds of motorcycles. Most of them were
cruisers, but there were some sport bikes and dual sports. While we were in <a href="http://enjoygrafton.com/grafton/place.cfm?pid=1008&src=attractions">Grafton’s Artisan Village</a>, a
shop that featured crafts by local artists, we learned that they were there for
a charity ride sponsored by a local company.
The longer we walked around, the more motorcycles seemed to converge on
town. </div>
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On the
far end of Grafton from the flea market is <a href="http://www.irondecornmore.com/cart/?CFID=111164555&CFTOKEN=62715205">Iron Decor N More</a>, a metal work
shop. He may not make his yard art out
of spoons, but his wind sculptures are fabulous. And, after spending some time walking around
town, it was apparent that they are also an integral part of local decor. They can be found on restaurants, in front of
shops, and adorning houses all around town.
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Regular
readers of this blog know of some of the things my mom and I have done or want
to do together here in St. Louis, but Grafton is something I am looking forward
to sharing with my dad. I’m pretty sure
Mom is going to have a good time too!</div>
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The Flea Market at the Loading Dock: <a href="http://www.graftonloadingdock.com/flea_market.html">http://www.graftonloadingdock.com/flea_market.html</a></div>
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Grafton's Artisan's Village: <a href="http://enjoygrafton.com/grafton/place.cfm?pid=1008&src=attractions">http://enjoygrafton.com/grafton/place.cfm?pid=1008&src=attractions</a></div>
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Iron Decor N More: <a href="http://www.irondecornmore.com/cart/?CFID=111164555&CFTOKEN=62715205">http://www.irondecornmore.com/cart/?CFID=111164555&CFTOKEN=62715205</a></div>
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<br /></div>Jodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896828578445017859noreply@blogger.com1