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Sunday, September 13, 2020

News Trend Cuban Makan|Actual

Dinner preparations have already begun and I can't wait to taste it.

My body may be visiting Cuba but my stomach is experiencing pure Malaysia.

Nasi Ayam

Nasi Lemak

Pisang Goreng

Such a treat to enjoy these familiar Southeast Asian flavors here in the Caribbean, and I'm thankful for every meal that my lovely hostess prepares for me.

It's no easy task to track down all the necessary ingredients. Spices and sauces were trekked across the globe from Malaysia; fresh meats and vegetables must be hunted down from sparse Cuban agromercados. On my first shopping trip yesterday, it became abundantly clear to me that one does not plan out a dish and then shop for the ingredients; it's more a matter of buying whatever you can find and then figuring out what you can make from it. Menu plans are nothing but a big question mark

But I have great faith in my hostess to pull together another delicious Malay meal. Right now, the only question on my mind is what's for dinner?

* * * * *

Check out more stories about my once-in-a-lifetime trip to Cuba and my wonderful friends who lived there:

I Will Bake You A Pie

Cuban Makan

Cuban Economics

El Malecon Cloudburst

A La Playa

Creepy Cuban Kudzu

Plaza De La Revolucion

Old Havana

Poolside in Havana

A Cuban Sunset Story

Sunset Chasers, Cuban Edition

The Puppy At The Castle

Old Havana On The Eve Of Fidel's Birthday

An ASEAN Celebration

Nayli's Bedroom

Varadero, Cuba

Winding Down

Dear Cuba

Aqil's Chicken

The Gentle Art Of Reframing

My Cuban Home

Tickled Pink

Full Circle

Chicken Drumsticks

News Trend We Can Make It Happen|Actual

This is me on the far left at about age welve.

I'd just hopped out of the lake for a birthday party which explains my soaking wet hair and shirt.

I was also busy in those days learning how to think for myself.

There's no denying that the 2020 election cycle is heating up.

Candidates have surfaced,

town halls are happening left and right,

and the Iowa caucuses are coming up fast.

Which puts me in a reflective state of mind.

It's no secret what I think of our current president. Ever since he declared his candidacy in 2015, I have boldly declared my outrage at everything he stands for, and I object to his leadership on every level.

And I know my voice has turned off some people in my life.

You know what? I'm okay with that. In fact, it only makes me want to speak louder.

Because I believe, more than anything else about politics, that we the people have not just a right but a responsibility to speak our minds, to ring out the truth as we know it, to declare to everyone who is within earshot exactly who we are and what we stand for.

Because that, my friends, that willingness to stand up and speak out is where real change begins.

And sometimes, I think about that imperative to speak out, so deeply wired into my head and heart, so penting to my understanding of what it means to be an American, and I wonder where it came from.

Certainly not my mom, who held strong opinions but also believed in keeping her head down and not rocking the boat.

Nor my many teachers and professors, who - each and every one - failed to connect for me the dots between learning about the past and acting in the moment to influence the future.

Nor did the vast majority of my other adult influencers and generational peers - friends, colleagues, family - stir up their own passions for social justice or encourage me to do the same through their example.

No, I've lived in a world where good people say nothing about the outrage in the world around us.

Except for one strong and stirring influence; a voice - melodic and mature far beyond my tender years - that spoke to me in tones as clear as a bell.

When I was eleven years old, by the decibels blasting out from my older brother's basement bedroom that literally rocked the rafters of our house, I was introduced to the band, Chicago. And while my first interests may have been the power chords opening 25 or 6 to 4, or the horn solos in Make Me Smile, my attention soon turned to the deeper, more resonant messages of the music.

My heart for political action was stirred up by any number of songs on their first few albums, but it was this song, released on Chicago V when I was thirteen years old, that changed my life forever.

So be forewarned. As the election cycle spins forward, I will be speaking up loud and clear for what I believe, for the change toward civility and compassion that our country so desperately needs. And I hope you will do the same.

Because together, we can make it happen.

Dialogue Part I & II

By Robert Lamm

Are you optimistic 'bout the way things are going?

No, I never ever think of it at all

Don't you ever worry when you see what's going down?

Well, I try to mind my business, that is, no business at all

When it's time to function as a feeling human being

Will your bachelor of arts help you get by?

I hope to study further, a few more years or so

I also hope to keep a steady high

Will you try to change things

Use the power that you have, the power of a million new ideas?

What is this power you speak of and the need for things to change?

I always thought that everything was fine

Don't you feel repression just closing in around?

No, the campus here is very, very free

Don't it make you angry the way war is dragging on?

Well, I hope the president knows what he's into, I don't know

Don't you see starvation in the city where you live

All the needless hunger, all the needless pain?

I haven't been there lately, the country is so fine

My neighbors don't seem hungry 'cause they haven't got the time

Thank you for the talk, you know you really eased my mind

I was troubled by the shapes of things to come

Well, if you had my outlook your feelings would be numb

You'd always think that everything was fine

We can make it better

We can make it better

We can make it better

Yeah Yeah Yeah

We can change the world now

We can change the world now

We can change the world now

We can save the children

We can save the children

We can save the children

Yeah Yeah Yeah

We can make it happen

We can make it happen

We can make it happen

News Trend A Day In My Delayed Sleep Phase Life|Actual

My day begins at midnight.

Unlike most of the world, who is either already in bed or on the way at that moment, sleep in the last thing on my mind.

Though I have burned the midnight oil for most of my life, I now embrace my daily schedule without shame or remorse. It was back in April - four months ago - that my sleep doctor and I hatched a plan to lean into my Delayed Sleep Phase body and adjust my daily routine to accommodate my chronotype.

Here's how the day unfolds in my Delayed Sleep Phase life:

Focus Inward: 12 midnight to tiga a.M.

Around midnight, my daughters go up to bed. My husband has long since retired. With the house clean and quiet, I'm at my most creative and intellectually energetic peak and ready to begin my private time of the day.

I read whatever book I'm enjoying.

I write letters, or long notes in cards.

I catch up on social media, which I try to avoid during the other hours of my day.

I scroll around online to find inspiration for ideas that are taking shape in my brain.

I read other blogs and news articles.

I work on my blog: developing ideas, sorting and editing photos, doing research, drafting posts, polishing pieces for publication.

If I feel like cleaning, organizing, or making any kind of art, I go for it.

Or you know, sometimes, I just need a few episodes of Queer Eye or a Candy Crush session.

And I take care of business: responding to messages and email, handling logistics for my math, classes, organizing to-do lists for things to get done during business hours.

Winding Down: tiga to 4 a.M.

Time to get ready for bed. I wake Gracie, who is happily snoring in her usual spot on the couch and we head upstairs together. I turn off lights as I go, and the house is dark. I pass silently through my dark bedroom where Gracie climbs into her favorite chair to continue her slumbers; and into the dark bathroom. I flip on just the light in my closet, which gives me enough light to see but also signals my brain that it's time to wind down. Slipping into the darkness is the first step in my bedtime routine which soothes me and slows me down as I prepare to sleep.

I take a cool shower and go through my tooth-brushing, lotion-applying, face-moisturizing routines, slowing my mind to focus on each step in the process.

I clean and tidy the bathroom as I go, so it will be fresh and clean when I wake up.

Just before I hop into bed, I switch on a box fan. Though my body temperature is finally beginning to fall at this time of night, the breeze amplifies the cooling effect of my shower and helps me more comfortably drop off to sleep.

And the very last thing that I do before lying down? I put lotion on my feet.

I cannot sleep without fresh lotion on my feet. Trust me. I have tried.

Sleep: 4 a.M. To noon

I sleep. Warmly, deeply, deliciously.

If I'm late to bed or slow to fall asleep, I occasionally hear my husband's alarm go off at 4:25 and then again at 4:30. Sometimes I may even be awake to listen to the water run in the sink as he shaves, or as he takes his morning shower (less than an hour after my bedtime shower. Ha.) But rather than disturbing me,  the sounds of his activity strike me as soothing, and though I'm never afraid to be up by myself during the dead of night, it's somehow easier for me to fall asleep knowing that he is up and beginning his day.

In the winter months, my room will still be dark for several hours after I fall asleep, but during summer, the dawn is often breaking as I am drifting off, the sun shining through the sheer curtains at my window and flooding my bedroom with light. Just like my husband's getting-ready noise, this sunshine is soothing to me, and I have no masalah falling asleep and staying asleep in my brightly lit room.

Waking Up: Noon to 1 p.M.

My goal is to sleep till exactly noon, when my brain automatically wakes me up

Unlike every day of my life before April, I now open my eyes and feel rested and alert. Every day it is a miracle and a joy to wake up feeling good. I allow myself fifteen minutes to pray before I lift my head off the pillow.

Then I begin the process of getting ready.

Good morning, sunshine. Gracie has no masalah adapting to my Delayed Sleep Phase schedule. She sleeps till I wake up, greets me and the new day, then settles back down for a nap.

As I dress and freshen up, I take several mini -breaks to wander back into my bedroom and spend some quality time with Gracie who by now is sprawled out across my bed. She usually needs her chest rubbed and her ears scratched; we reconnect and revel in each other's company.

Before I go downstairs to eat, I re-tidy the bathroom, grab any laundry for the day, make my bed, and straighten my bedroom.

Focus Outward: 1 - lima p.M

For me, the absolute worst thing about my Delayed Sleep Phase life is missing out on half the day's sunshine. And the second worst thing is limited time for socializing with people who live on a standard schedule. So once I am awake and ready to rock, I usually head out the door and into the world to make the most of the day time I've got.

Most plant nurseries are only open till six. That means I have to work fast to get my plants purchased and home to be planted before the dinner hour kicks in.

I run errands by myself, go shopping with my daughters, or meet friends for lunch.

I go on hikes or adventures or outings in the city. I go skiing and camping and berry-picking

Or I stay home and work on my never-ending stream of projects around my house and garden. If the weather is good, I'll definitely be outside.

On school days, I zip off to my students' homes and teach for a couple hours.

And at some point during these afternoon hours, I figure out a plan for dinner and round up some groceries.

Family Routines: lima to 10 p.M.

Oh, the golden glow of the family dinner hour. This is the midpoint of my day and it almost always plays out like this:

Every day, our walk is an adventure. The past few days, Gracie has been obsessed with a dead and very dry rabbit that she found in the bushes. Her feelings seem quite hurt that I'm not impressed with her prize.

Take Gracie on her walk.

Feed Gracie on the front porch and chill outside with her for a while.

Greet the family as they wander back home from work.

Well. I call it dinner. But it's actually my lunch.

Cook, serve, eat, and clean up after dinner.

SET is a pattern-matching card game with which my family is obsessed.

Play cards and eat chocolate. For the past seven years, our game of choice has been SET. The best.

Every night after dinner and before TV, Gracie gets to eat an apple, which we cut up and feed her piece by piece. Then she makes one last trip around the backyard, and when she comes in for the night, we slip on her socks and she's ready for bed.

Once the post-dinner routine is complete, around 8 p.M., we adjourn to the family room for a bit of television.

By 10 p.M., my early bird husband heads up to bed.

Second Dinner: 10 p.M. To midnight

In the late evening hours, my daughters and I, Delayed Sleep Phasers one and all, eat our third meal of the day. We gather in the kitchen for sandwiches, popcorn, pots of ramen or plates of leftovers, cleaning the kitchen and tidying up the family room as we go. Sometimes we'll watch something on TV, always we talk, and around midnight, my daughters say goodnight and head upstairs.

And then, when the house is once again clean and quiet, my new day begins.

* * * * *

I sleep at really weird times. Read here to learn why:

Fulfilled

Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome

Four Important Truths About Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome

A Day In My Delayed Sleep Phase Life

Saturday, September 12, 2020

News Trend Flower Power|Actual

"Always have something beautiful in sight, even if it's just a daisy in a jelly glass."

-H. Jackson Brown Jr.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've always loved daisies.

Maybe it's because I was a child of the sixties, when the daisy was an icon for love and peace.*

Maybe it's because my mother and my grandmother both grew deep drifts of Shasta daisies in their gardens, and cut bouquets by the armload every August.

Or maybe it's just because of their sweet and beautifully simple style.

All I know for sure is that I've always loved daisies, and I don't expect that will ever change.

* * * * *

* Flower Power is the name of a famous photo from 196t. It shows a young man slipping flowers into the barrels of guns pointed at him at an anti-war protest at the Pentagon. The photo, especially the young man's gesture, made a huge impression on my child self. I always thought he used daisies, but tonight I learned that the flowers were actually carnations. Well. They'll always be daisies to me.

News Trend A La Playa|Actual

Campo Florido, a half hour's drive east of Havana. Viva la playa!

If you want to make me happy, just take me to a tropical beach, toss me into the ocean and let me bob in the waves for a couple hours.

Then, as the sun drops low, I'll pad up and down the velvet sand, collecting shells and bits of coral.

I cannot think of a finer way to spend an evening in Cuba. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

* * * * *

Check out more stories about my once-in-a-lifetime trip to Cuba and my wonderful friends who lived there:

I Will Bake You A Pie

Cuban Makan

Cuban Economics

El Malecon Cloudburst

A La Playa

Creepy Cuban Kudzu

Plaza De La Revolucion

Old Havana

Poolside in Havana

A Cuban Sunset Story

Sunset Chasers, Cuban Edition

The Puppy At The Castle

Old Havana On The Eve Of Fidel's Birthday

An ASEAN Celebration

Nayli's Bedroom

Varadero, Cuba

Winding Down

Dear Cuba

Aqil's Chicken

The Gentle Art Of Reframing

My Cuban Home

Tickled Pink

Full Circle

Chicken Drumsticks

News Trend Reading The Truth|Actual

This is the copy of Charlotte's Web that I bought for myself many years ago, just after college. I have no idea how many times I've read it, but I can say for sure that I've cried every time.

Charlotte's Web by E.B.White

We all know the tale of Charlotte's Web, right?

A sweet story about a superlative pig and the little girl who loves him?

No. Not really.

Every time I reread this book, I'm surprised all over again to remember what it truly is, and what it is not.

Though it's tempting to assume that Wilbur the pig is the star of this story, he is not. Of course, he's a charming little squealer, what with his tender heart, tremendous ability to turn back flips, and willingness to be tucked into a doll stroller for a nap. But Wilbur is not the hero of our story; he's the victim. It's his understandable horror that he will soon be turned into bacon and pork chops that puts the plot properly in motion, and poor Wilbur has no idea how to save himself.

Nor is eight-year-old Fern our heroine. Sure, it's Fern who kick starts the story by saving a newborn piglet from certain death and raising him to healthy adolescence, but her devotion to Wilbur doesn't last. As Wilbur's life is threatened, Fern simply sits idly by and watches as the plan to save him rolls out. And when the plot climaxes in Wilbur's shining moment of redemption a the fair, Fern is off riding the Ferris wheel with icky Henry Fussy, oblivious to Wilbur's triumph and Charlotte's impending tragedy. Fern's life spins away from the rhythms of the barnyard, and in the end, she's no longer relevant to the story.

No, it's Charlotte, wise lady spider, who cleverly saves Wilbur's life and spins out the truth for all to see:

"You have been my friend," replied Charlotte. "That in itself is a tremendous thing...After all, what's a life anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die...By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that."

As Charlotte gently dies, leaving in Wilbur's capable hands, er, hooves, her 514 babies to be born next spring, she teaches us that the natural cycles of life and death spin ruthlessly on, but friendship never dies.

And though this may be a book meant for children, that is a difficult, painful, beautiful lesson to learn. Thank you, Charlotte, for telling us the truth.

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbit

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

Reading Mysteries

Reading About Walking

Friday, September 11, 2020

News Trend Plaza De La Revolucion|Actual

Silly me. I assumed that Cuba's Plaza de la Revolucion - the central government complex in the capital city of Havana - was the brainchild of Fidel Castro, built as a self-congratulatory monument to his 1959 coup.

But it turns out that isn't exactly true

After my rainy drive-by through the heart of the plaza yesterday, I got curious about its origins and sorted through a few Wikipedia articles to gather some facts.

The name of the plaza does indeed reflect Castro's dubious achievement and dictatorial takeover of the nation.

But the square itself, the government buildings scattered around its edge, as well as its most commanding monument,  have nothing to do with Mr. Castro. In fact, they were conceived in the 1930s and completed by 1959, the year of his Cuban Revolution.

Here's a basic lay of the land at this iconic Cuban landmark:

^ The square - a large, open cement tarmac- is dominated by the Jose Marti Memorial. Rising 358 feet from a hill on the west side of the plaza, the star-shaped marble tower has bragging rights as the tallest building in Havana.

Mr. Marti was reportedly a man of many talents: poet, journalist, philosopher, political thinker, professor and all-around national hero from the late 1800s. He earned his countrymen's admiration and allegiance by leading the fight for independence from Spain, and is considered one of the great turn-of-the century Latin American intellectuals.

Seems like a stand-up guy to me. But let it be noted that he died decades before Mr. Castro was born. Their paths never crossed.

^ Across the square, added years after the plaza was completed in '59, are the two famous steel portraits of other Cuban heroes.

On the left: Che Guevara, who is both loved and hated but always remembered as an Argentinian Marxist, guerrilla freedom fighter, and outspoken proponent of Third World insurrection. He fought at Castro's side during the Cuban Revolution, and met his end in Bolovia where he was executed for fomenting rebellion there.

In his time, El Che was something of an international badass and his colorful reputation still stands today as contentious, countercultural, and effortlessly cool.

The quote next to his inage reads, Hasta la Victoria, Siempre (Until the Everlasting Victory, Always.)

And over there on the right, Camilo Cienfuegos was a homegrown Cuban revolutionary talent, guerilla strategist, and military wunderkind. He died in a late-night private plane crash that may or may not have been sabotage.

Either way, the mystery lends itself to Mr. Cienfuego's fiery inage as a hero of the Revolution.

His quote reads, Vas Bien, Fidel (You're doing fine, Fidel,) a curious attempt to either mollify the Cuban people or perhaps comfort their quirky leader.

* * * * *

So in a nutshell, the Plaza de la Revolucion had precious little to do  with the true revolt. Fidel Castro commandeered the recently-completed central office plaza along with the rest of the Cuban government at gunpoint, and later added a few oversize portraits of his larger-than-life right-hand men.

And while Mr. Castro's new name for the place lifts up his contribution to its history, the true tale of the Plaza de La Revolucion tells a  richer, more complete story of this tiny island's troubled past.

* * * * *

Check out more stories about my once-in-a-lifetime trip to Cuba and my wonderful friends who lived there:

I Will Bake You A Pie

Cuban Makan

Cuban Economics

El Malecon Cloudburst

A La Playa

Creepy Cuban Kudzu

Plaza De La Revolucion

Old Havana

Poolside in Havana

A Cuban Sunset Story

Sunset Chasers, Cuban Edition

The Puppy At The Castle

Old Havana On The Eve Of Fidel's Birthday

An ASEAN Celebration

Nayli's Bedroom

Varadero, Cuba

Winding Down

Dear Cuba

Aqil's Chicken

The Gentle Art Of Reframing

My Cuban Home

Tickled Pink

Full Circle

Chicken Drumsticks