Crocs

I'm wandering the Dallas airport and seeing that my opinion about "Crocs" is entirely correct. That is, they are terribly unsexy. They're like having a chastity belt on your feet. And I'm wearing them! How could this happen?

It's my sister's fault. As I write, I am en route to New Hampshire to join her for a few days along her epic hike up the 2200 mile Appalachian Trail. I asked her about footwear in camp in the evenings, and she told me that "everyone" wears Crocs. They're super-light, they protect your feet, they're comfy, and they prevent unwanted pregnancies on the trail. She didn't tell me about that last part, but it must be true. I can see it in the eyes of my fellow travelers here in the airport. A few minutes ago I caught a woman checking me out from top to bottom. I could read her mind: "Hmmm...that feller's not half-bad. Nice outdoorsy hat. Nice brown jacket...". Then, like I was a piece of rotten meat, her face turned green when she got to my feet. "Ugh, why do people wear those things," her mind snorted derisively. I couldn't agree more, but dang, they sure are light and my feet sure are comfy!

Floyder's Many Names

I've been wracking my brain trying to remember the millions of different names we've used for Floyder over the years:

1. Nut--When we picked him up at the shelter, we asked the attendant if he had name. He shook his head for a moment, and then reconsidered and said, "We call him Nut." This should've been a warning to me.
2. Floyd--Sarah pulled this name out the air. She got it right. To me, he was the most aptly named dog I've ever known. His name suited him perfectly.
3. Floyder
4. Floyderdog
5. Flop--He was always spastic and falling over out of sheer exhuberance.
6. Flopper
7. Flopperdog
8. Flood--So named for his poor bladder control, especially in the early years.
9. Floydee Boy--My sister's name for him during the time he lived with her in Tennessee.
10. Floydsee--My friend Carmen's pet name for Floyd.
11. Black Bean Brain
12. Black
13. The Old Man
14. Number One--His unlikely and triumphant final nickname from over the past 2-3 years. Nobody would've predicted this name 15 years ago. He was such an unruly spasitc idiot back then. He kept these traits to the very end, although in diminished magnitude.

RIP Floyder 7/4/93-8/22/10

The Floyderdog Express finally came to the end of the line today. Here is an e-mail I sent out to some family and friends to tell them about it:

Floyder collapsed sometime in the evening last night while we were out. He was his usual self when I fed him around 3:30 p.m. When we got home around 10:30, he was still alive but unable to get up. He could stand only if I lifted him and spotted him. He wouldn't drink. We took him to an 24-hour emergency vet in Santa Fe in the middle of the night, but they were unable to do anything to help him aside from make him more comfortable. He had an abnormal heart rhythm of unknown cause. There were no reasonable treatments to get him back on his feet. I had no choice other than to let him go. I've been worrying that this day would come sooner rather than later for the past eight years. Throughout, he somehow defied my pessimism for all those years and just kept going and going, but the day finally came. Along the way, he somehow transformed himself from an exasperating nut into a hall of famer. What a great dog! My friend for a third of my life.

Some pix of Floyder from several hundred years ago when he was young:






Way back before he was Number One, he used to be Number Three. Here he is with Sandy and Runza:

Some New Pictures

The Latest Harvest of Beans


The Foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains Near Cleveland, NM


Elsie's Mouth Intruding on a Picture of a Bighorn Sheep Skeleton


My Sister's Dog Elsie


Pork Chop, Beans, and Polenta


The Big Bean


Supper: Beans, Grilled Peach with Jamon, Pimientos de Padron, Melon with Jamon,Gazpacho, Bread with Strained Solids from Gazpacho, Beer (and sunflower pollen on the table)

Madrid Street Musicians

The street musicians in Madrid are generally of very high caliber. Someone told me the other day--I don't remember who--that the street musicians in major European cities are often required to go through auditions to get a permit to perform. They are rarely slouches in the main tourist areas. These guys, a father, his two sons, and maybe a brother or cousin were astoundingly great. They were whipping out highly-arranged, technically-difficult classical pieces on hammer dulicmers with accordian and bass with nary a sour note.

La Plaza Mayor

One of the great pleasure of traveling in Spain (and the rest of Europe, I suppose) is sitting in the main square, having a drink, and watching the world go by. The people watching is great. There are usually street performers. And it is just lovely. Here we are in the Plaza Mayor of Madrid. Each town in Spain almost always has a central square called the Plaza Mayor. It's central meeting place. The city hall is usually located there. In bigger towns, there are often bars with outdoor seating. The Plaza Mayor of Madrid was also famous in the past as a place where the Spanish Inquisition carried out its horrific punishments on those who weren't deemed "Catholic" enough by their neighbors or powerful enemies. This particular visit was not very remarkable except for the boring appearance of Mickey Mouse and a group of girls who were moving a mattress.

Plaza de Cibeles

My very first clear memory of my first visit to Madrid was emerging from the Banco de España subway stop in the early evening. There was some sort of Xmas/New Year's holiday celebration going on, so the place was swarming with people. There were colorful lights hanging from the trees, and it was chilly. This fountain is located right at that metro stop. Madrid is lacking a super-iconic Eiffel Tower sort of landmark that screams, "Madrid," to the world. Instead, this fountain serves as one of a few of the few spots in town whispers, "madrid" to those in the know. Lisa and I took this photo about a year ago.

More Judias Verdes

We're deep in bean season. All but one of our plants is thriving and producing. We've gotten to the point where we can no longer eat nearly enough beans to match our rate of harvest. It's crazy. At the moment, we're harvesting a large colander-full of beans every other day.

We've made:
Beans sauteed with jamon and olive oil
Beans boiled and then sauteed with jamon, pimenton, and olive oil
Tortilla espanola with green beans
Shrimp stir-fry with green beans (this was the best one, I think)
Blanched beans finished with garlic on the grill.
Beans sauteed with canned tomatoes, garlic, onion and topped with fried onions.
Beans sauteed with canned tomatoes, garlic, and onions.

I hope to make a vegetable paella soon.

Bullfighting

Plaza de Toros de las Ventas, the main bullring in Madrid:


I've been to Spain four times now, I think. I've never been to a bullfight. I admit to being fascinated by the subject. I've read a lot about it. I've watched it in a limited fashion on TV. I've visited the bullfighting museum at the bullring in Madrid, and I've walked on the sand of the bullring in Ronda. I'm currently reading "Sangre y Arena" ("Blood and Sand"), a classic of Spanish literature in which the tragic protagonist is a proud, arrogant bullfighter. He strays from his wife for a beautiful society woman. When he gets dumped, he loses his mojo. Predictably, this leads to his death in the bullring. Despite all this, I've never been to a fight. I've never felt that I could enjoy the spectacle in which the horses and the bulls are treated in this way for entertainment. It appears that this sentiment is finally starting to shift in Spain as well now two parts of the country have voted to ban bullfights (NY Times article here). Still, the mythology of the whole enterprise is intriguing. I don't expect that we'll see a bullfight on our next trip, but here are some pix of our visit to the Plaza de Toros in Madrid a year ago. As a special bonus, I include a couple pix from my visit to the Ronda bullring in 2006 with Brad and Mom.

Here we are posing beneath an interesting bull-themed sculpture outside of the Madrid bullring:


Another interesting sculpture at the Madrid bullring:


Picasso did a famous series of bullfighting aquatints. This one was reproduced on a poster outside the Madrid bullring. I think it's really cool.


As promised, here I am with Mom and Brad hiding from the fierce toros at the Ronda bullring in September 2006:


Another shot of the Ronda bullring. In any bullring, the expensive seats are in the shady side of the ring ("sombra), while the cheap seats on on the hot, sunny side ("sol"):