Auditions, the rest of the trip

And a grand trip it was! After Austin we spent 10 days in Houston, several before, and a few after Oldest Daughter's audition at Rice University's Shepherd School of Music. We loved the Rice campus and the Shepherd School of music; the buildings and grounds are beautiful and all are situated on a well planned loop so it is easy to walk, bike, or shuttle bus to anyplace on campus.

Lovett Hall/Administration Building, Rice University

Rice's Shepherd School of music boasts a spacious, state of the art facility and a relatively small student body of about 300. While there we were able to observe some of the excellent musical activities that are taking place at the Shepherd School: a lovely faculty concert, an orchestra rehearsal, and a studio class in which students play for their teacher and each other.

Alice Pratt Building/Shepherd School of Music

Leaving behind warm weather and great friends in Houston, we next flew to Cleveland, Ohio and took a city bus, which was, thankfully, empty except for one other passenger, to Oberlin. We were quite a sight trying to manage all our luggage which was a bit excessive due to a number of books, a sleeping bag, and other miscellaneous things we had purchased to take back to Jordan. The bus driver remarked wryly to Oldest Daughter, "Don't you know that school is over in another three months." I told Oldest Daughter that she should have replied, "Oh, I'm just coming for four days."

Oberlin was such a contrast to Houston! The college and conservatory have only undergraduate students and they are located in a small town. The feel of the campus is old, beautiful, and a bit earthy in individual/hippie/liberal sort of way. The students we met were bright, articulate and involved.

Spending a lot of time in 'the Con' student lounge while Oldest Daughter practiced, I observed a lot of musical and creative energy. It became easy to pick out the voice majors--they were the ones who dressed particularly stunningly and/or sang scales as they walked down the hall.

The 'Con'~ Oberlin Conservatory

Immediately after her conservatory audition, Oldest Daughter auditioned for and was accepted into a summer chamber music festival begun by the head of the Con's string department. While not an acceptance to music school itself, it was an encouragement.

A spacious practice room with a view~ Oberlin Conservatory

Oldest Daughter was able to experience a variety of practice rooms, and while this may seem like a minor point of interest to some, to a performance major who spends four plus hours a day in one it is more than a passing consideration. Our unofficial practice room rating:

1. Shepherd School of Music (no question)
2. Oberlin Conservatory
3. and 4. We are in disagreement here. I say UT Austin is third and Eastman, easily fourth, but Oldest Daughter would put Eastman before UT Austin. Eastman is the only school where the practice rooms were, at times, all full.

Eastman School of Music, Rochester, New York

Oldest Daughter loved the "feel" of Eastman. The urban location, the old building with wood trimmed everything, the beautiful concert halls, the student housing, and the impressive violin faculty, a few of them Russian, which felt familiar to her as her own training has been of Russian pedagogy.

While visiting Eastman we were privileged to stay with a long ago friend and her Eastman faculty husband. They graciously hosted us in their Perfect Accommodations condo located directly behind the school, generously sharing their home and lives with us while we were in Rochester.

Not sure if you can read the sign but Eastman seems to be getting a lot of mileage from a Kaplan/Newsweek quote naming them 'The Hottest Music School'. They obviously were not referring to Rochester's less than balmy winter weather.

A Post-Final-Audition-Celebratory Latte at Java's

I think Oldest Daughter looks very relieved and just a little tired in this post-final-audition photo. I wonder if I should mention that she has not take her violin from it's case for six days--though I believe it may be coming out tomorrow.

As we watched the presidential elections analysis ad naseum on television it occurred to us that having a CNN reporter shadow a music school candidate would make a great human interest story. A young cellist we met twice on the music school circuit was applying to eight schools; another violinist, to five, flying in and out of various locations each weekend. Her father asked me, "is your daughter falling behind in school? Mine is." Well, yes, but the fact that we homeschool and are 'flexible' means that we have until June before we have to acknowledge that we are behind and by then, hopefully we won't be. A teacher whose student was auditioning at one of the schools queried me at the financial aid session, "Is the tuition really that much??" Hopeful parents listening outside audition doors, keeping time with their children's music and parents sitting with their child inside a tiny practice rooms while their child practices before an audition. More stress then I like to experience on a daily basis. And though, while at UT Austin, I enjoyed a double bass solo more than I imagined I could ever enjoy a bass solo, I was daily thankful that my dear daughter had chosen the relatively small violin for her beloved instrument. Thanks for keeping it simple, dear ; ) What an adventure we have had!

Dead to Red 2008

Dashing Dudes '08

The Dashing Dudes '08 team hit the road today, running in the annual Dead Sea to Red Sea ultra, ultra marathon relay--250K. Oldest son ran the first 1 K leg; most members of the nine man team will run 1K legs, however one ambitious Dude will run double and one older Dude (Dear Husband) will run 1.5 K legs and run fewer times.

I spoke with younger son about an hour and a half into the race and he reported that they are in about the middle of the pack but hoping to overtake a couple of nearby teams at the hill. More race updates to come...Go Dashing Dudes!

~~~Update~~~

The Dashing Dudes completed their Dead to Read Run earlier this morning, placing fifth of sixteen teams. This afternoon found many of the team luxuriating in the hotel hot tub, resting up for the the celebratory banquet at the Movenpick this evening. Congratulations, Dashing Dudes, on another great run!

Deep in the Heart of Texas

We arrived in Texas last Wednesday afternoon, leaving the cold and snow (yes, snow!) of Jordan behind us. Our trip to Houston was uneventful except for the serendipitous meeting of a friend in the Paris airport. She was coming from Turkey, on her way home to Houston, and was on our flight. (Turns out she attends a church right near the campus where Oldest Daughter will be auditioning this week and we will be able to connect during the week.)

Passing through immigration at the Houston International Airport, we waited in the foreigners line with our friend who flew from Amman with us. Compared to the US citizens line, the foreigners line was so somber and quiet. Yes, Americans are, in general, loud, compared to rest of the world, a fact that doesn’t chagrin me anymore as I’ve recovered from my Ugly American complex. And we watched a great Welcome to the United States video as we waited in the immigration line. Lots of smiling faces. Americans are friendly. And Texans are very friendly. Within an hour of our arrival two Texan women had not only answered questions for me but had also offered me their phone numbers in case I might need more help in the future!

From Houston, we drove to Austin. Travel advisory: Don’t plan to drive three+ hours in a strange place after 24 hours of international travel. I had overlooked the fact that I would have been up for nearly two full days with just a couple hours of airplane sleep. Add to that mix, rain, and a dark sky for most of the journey and, all things considered we probably should have spent the night in Houston. By God’s grace we made it to Austin about ten at night, and that only with frequent rest (literally) stops.

A dear friend, a lovely Texan woman who recently moved from Amman, hosted us in Austin, generously cooking us yummy meals, showing us around, and introducing us to catfish (melts in your mouth) and hushpuppies ( a sort of southern falafel made with cornmeal instead of chickpeas). Austin seems a lovely city, though we didn’t take a lot of time to see it. Oldest daughter needed to keep up her practice regime before her audition last Saturday.

And though we didn’t tour the entire UT campus (40 acres), we did visit the music building twice. On Friday night Oldest Daughter had a consultation with the professor whose studio she auditioned for. I was reminded anew that application to music school at this level is not for the faint of heart. The admission process is three-pronged: Oldest Daughter must be accepted into the university, into the school of music, and into the studio of a particular instructor. The first two are fairly straightforward, however it is the last level which becomes very competitive. Oldest Daughter felt the audition went well, however no indication is given by the jury, and results will not be known until March. For the years and years of hard work, prospective students have but ten minutes to demonstrate their ability.

By Saturday night, post-audition, Oldest Daughter and I were pretty exhausted, both physically and emotionally. How wonderful it was to go church on Sunday morning and be encouraged by God’s Word and the fellowship of His people. Not to mention singing praises to Him, declaring His faithfulness and sovereignty. There are so many opportunities for fear and anxiety to gain a foothold but we were reminded anew of His perfect goodness.

Today we returned to Houston where we’ll be staying until next week. We find ourselves again enjoying the hospitality of yet more friendly Texans, whom we have just met for the first time (they are friends of friends). We are staying in their “quarters”, a lovely studio apartment above the garage. Oldest Daughter’s next audition is Friday. Thanks to those of you who are praying for Oldest Daughter. We appreciate you all!

Congratulations, Eagle Scout

Last Friday evening, Active Son earned the rank of Eagle Scout in the Boy Scouts of America, passing his Eagle Board of Review with flying colors. Being out of town, I had to hear by email how the head of the Board of Review, a fellow Eagle Scout and military atache with the US embassy, called Active Son and my husband in after the Board was dismissed to give Active Son further words of commendation and praise. Warmed my mother's heart, all the way across the ocean.

Active Son has had the privilege of being involved in a stellar Boy Scout Troop which, since it began about five or six years ago, has produced five Eagle Scouts with two more about ready to earn the Eagle rank. These two scouts will join Active Son in his Eagle Scout Court of Honor this spring.

Art...and Economics

Younger Son/Artist Son sold his first piece of artwork yesterday. A family friend commissioned him to do the colored pencil drawing below for his horse loving wife's birthday. My photo doesn't really do his art justice; we all enjoyed watching, as he worked on it the past several weeks, adding layer after layer of color.

Besides helping him to advance in his drawing technique, this commission allowed Artist Son to learn a little bit about the business side of being a professional artist. He had to pick out matting and frame, and then return to the frame store when the matting wasn't cut precisely. He also had to put a monetary value on his work. I was a little sad to see this beautiful picture leave the house but I had Artist Son's first pastel picture (below) framed at the same time and it now displayed in our family room.

When Artist Son received his pay for the horse picture, Active Son suggested that he start saving it now and that if he kept selling his artwork he'd have quite a bit saved for college. Older daughter, who, like the rest of our family has been privy to hours of college financial aid banter, dissented. She advised Artist son that it wouldn't pay to have college savings and that it could very well decrease his chances to receiving financial aid.

Since I have recently begun reading Henry Hazlitt's Economics in One Lesson, motivated by cyber-friend, Cindy's, reading and discussion posts, I recognized Oldest Daughter's comment as bad economics, albeit, economics she had heard promoted, to some degree, in our home (Not that we have purposely not saved a big chunk of money to pay for our children's college tuition. We just have not purposely done it.) We've all heard it said before but Hazlitt so clearly explains why "there is no such thing as a free lunch." All credit is debt--someone's debt.

As a business major, I took three semesters of economics in college. Unfortunately, I remember these as some of my most boring classes. I'm sure I picked up some vocabulary and concepts along the way, but I honestly can not articulate what I learned. Sad. I mostly remember furiously taking notes as my professor drew multitudes of graphs on the chalkboard.

And though the entire book is work reading (I'm admittedly only in chapter six, but it is very enlightening so far--lots of plain old common sense), Hazlitt really does, in the first chapter, distill the most important concept into one lesson:

“The art of economics consists in looking not merely at the immediate but at the longer effects of any act or policy; it consists in tracing the consequences of that policy not merely for one group but for all groups."

In other words, bad art, economically speaking, is man acting impatiently and selfishly. Now that is something I can understand, relate to, and agree with. Maybe my college professor mentioned something about the nature of man and how it related to all those charts, but if he did, I missed it. I look forward to reading more...

Sopa Ranchera

Christmas Break (which we're extending until January 7th) is a great time for my culinary creativity to be refreshed as I take the time to try a few new recipes. Here is a one for a delicious winter soup. My family liked this so much that I made it twice in one week--and I'm making yet another batch to add to the growing stash of freezer entrees that will keep Dear Husband and the kids fed while Oldest Daughter and I are on our audition trip.

My inspiration comes, again, from The Best of Cooking Light. I followed the recipe pretty closely except for:

-I omitted the zucchini because I didn't have any and my dear children said not to bother going out to get some. It wouldn't be missed.
-I used leftover roasted potatoes and chicken. This worked so well that when I made it again I pre-roasted some chicken breasts (olive oil and cajun spice mix) and potatoes.
-I doubled the oregano and tripled the cumin
-I added some red pepper flakes--about 1/2 tsp for a double batch.
-I added extra garlic
-other alterations are noted within the recipe

Other than that, I followed the recipe closely ; )

Oh, and I never, ever make a single batch.

Sopa Ranchera:

1 tsp. vegetable oil (I use about 3 T olive oil)
1 cup chopped onion
1/2 tsp. oregano
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1 clove garlic, minced
6 cups chicken stock (I used 7 cups vegetable stock)
1 3/4 cups cubed peeled baking potato
1 (15 oz) can chickpeas, drained
2 cups shredded (I diced) cooked chicken breast
1 cup frozen whole-kernel corn, thawed (I used one can of corn)
3/4 tsp, salt (I omitted as my stock was salted)
1 zucchini, quartered lengthwise and sliced-about 1 1/2 cups (I omitted)
1 cup diced tomato (I used one can cooked, diced tomato)
1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro

Toppings:
grated cheddar or montery jack cheese
sour cream
lime wedges

We don't have any reduced fat options on the dairy products so our finished dish probably wouldn't meet Cooking Light standards.

Heat oil in a large pot over medium high heat. Add onion and saute' 3 minutes. Add oregano, cumin, and garlic, and saute' about 1 minute. Add stock, potato, and chickpeas, bring mixture to a boil, and cook 5 minutes. Add chicken, corn, salt, and zucchini, and cook 5 minutes. Stir in tomato and 1/3 cup cilantro, and cook 2 minutes.

First Wildflower Sighting of the Season

Cyclamen persicum

Peeking out from under pine needles and dead leaves I spotted the first cyclamen of the season as we hiked on New Year's Day with friends. The delicate flowers were very small--perhaps an indication that more rain is needed.

Christmas Break

After a deadline driven fall, we are all enjoying the relaxed pace of Christmas week, spending time with family and dear friends as we celebrate the Advent of Christ. Below are a few glimpses of our celebrations:

Although the younger two children were the masterminds behind the gingerbread and candy house, the older two couldn't resist joining in the fun.

And, they all resisted the temptation to nibble on it until Christmas morning.

The youth of our International Church celebrated the Joy of Jesus, sharing passages from the Gospels which hold special meaning for them, singing praises to God,

putting on impromptu, silly, holiday skits,

and enjoying fun fellowship.

Always a highlight of Christmas week is our traditional soup supper and evening of song, etc. with dear friends. Mrs. N serves up her now famous smoked salmon chowder, made from wild salmon, caught and smoked by her son during their summer trip to Alaska. I'm sure such a delicious soup is not to be found anywhere else in Jordan!

Enjoying a game of spoons while eating still more Christmas cookies.

Since 1997, Christmas Eve morning has been reserved for the celebration of youngest daughter's December 24th birthday. The menu has become tradition as well: cinnamon rolls, egg and cheese strata, and Dear Husband's grapefruit with brown sugar, lightly broiled on top.

Youngest daughter enjoys receiving words of appreciation and blessing from her Dad.

Enjoying carefully chosen gifts on Christmas morning.

The youngers are old enough to exercise patience and self control--they played Chinese checkers-- and so did not wake the older kids and Dear Husband and myself until after 9am!

Just in time for Christmas...

Now that we've officially submitted Oldest Daughter's last college application (midnight, Sunday), I guess I'll have to find a new hobby. Some options vying for my attention: housecleaning, cooking, grading papers, Christmas shopping. Needless to say, sending off the final 'supporting papers' packets with a traveling friend on Saturday and hitting the final 'submit' button on Sunday evening was very satisfying and a relief to the entire family. Glad to be finished with them, Oldest Daughter deposited a pile of various SAT and SAT II study guides on my bed the other day; now she can resume her beloved practicing at the level she needs to in order to prepare for auditions.

Oh me of little faith and of even less talent and determination has fleeting thoughts of doubt about this whole process. The competitive auditions are daunting enough but the yearly fees for some of the schools to which Oldest Daughter has applied are even more daunting. But, we continue to take one step at a time as we receive confirmation that we are heading in the right direction. Three of the four requested audition dates have been confirmed and we find our generous God continuing to provide for the upcoming audition trip: we were able to book our international flights using accumulated miles, just eight weeks in advance of our trip, flying into Houston and out of Newark and we have people to stay with in three of our four locations--even though we've never visited any of these cities before!

It is with sincere gratitude that we say thank you to so many who have prayed for us throughout this application process. We'll keep you posted on any new developments.

Wadi Rum

Though we've visited the breath-taking-ly beautiful desert of Wadi Rum before and Dear Husband and the boys have camped there a couple of times, the ladies had never experienced desert camping at its finest. This being Oldest Daughter's senior year, she requested a night in Wadi Rum before leaving home. We invited some friends to join in the fun and headed down to Rum for a wonderful night and two days.


The ladies are at the "entrance" to Wadi Rum in front of Jebel (mountain) al-Mazmar. Recent legend (Can there be urban legends in the desert? With the increase of the tourism and the temptation it brings for starting legends, maybe so.) has it that T.E. Lawrence called this mountain "The Seven Pillars of Wisdom". This, apparently, is a fabrication made up for the promotion of tourism--perhaps? The name of Lawrence's most famous work, The Seven Pillars of Wisdom derives it's name from Proverbs 9:1: "Wisdom has built a house; she has hewn out her seven pillars." The mountain is never mentioned in his book. (from The Rough Guide to Jordan)

At Rum village we loaded our guide's 4-wheeler and headed into Wadi Rum.

These very pregnant white camels belonging to our bedouin guide, followed us into camp. Buying price: about $15,000 for the pair. They're from Saudi Arabia.

As we unpacked our gear into the wool bedouin tent, our guide, in true bedouin style, welcomes us with some golden tea flavored with wild sage.

Sandstone worn through the ages until the mountainsides look like melted candles makes for great climbing as well as beautiful scenery.

Lizard tracks (notice the continuous tail track)

Tracks from something very small

Camel tracks

Our guide insists that these inscriptions, found on a mountainside near our camp, are authentic. I was thinking Nabatean, but a guide book suggests ancient Thamudic, the Thamuds being a cousin tribe of the Nabateans.

Wide open spaces and sand as far as the eye can see provided energy-expending fun for kids of all ages. It truly warmed my heart to see how much fun they were having!

Younger son is the only one of my kids I trust to try a stunt like this and not hurt himself.

Highlight: Climbing to the top of a BIG sand dune and running/jumping down together.

Way, way fun.

A trip to Wadi Rum will teach one to appreciate the beauty of the desert.

Being treated to a beautiful desert sunset, we were a little concerned that the clouds would obscure the famed star display which we were looking forward to seeing that night. We shouldn't have worried. The stars, which I was not clever enough to photograph, were spectacular. We even observed quite a few "falling stars".

Returning to camp just after sunset, we arrived just in time to watch our guide, Miziyad, dig up our supper. Yes, that is what I said, dig up. He had prepared the famous desert dish, zarb, for our entourage.

Chicken, potatoes, tomatoes, and onions are cooked over hot coals in an underground pit. For insulation/cooking, the pit is covered first with foil, then a pan, a wool blanket, and finally, sand.


The food, cooked to perfection, is lifted out of the pit and served. They had also prepared salad, rice, and a wonderful vegetable dish for us to enjoy. Delicious!

Dear Husband enjoying the a serene early morning desert

And I can manage to find a flower, even in the desert, even in November:

Anabasis articulata

College Chase

As I type, all three of our computers and their operators are engaged in some aspect of the college application process for Oldest daughter.

Dear Husband is yawning over his laptop, orienting himself to the College Board's Profile financial aid form. He is in charge of all things financial and has already spent many hours looking at FAFSA sites, talking with our very knowledgeable and helpful accountant (Bless you, Mr. M!), reading financial aid pamphlets and books, and contemplating various creative college financing schemes.

Travel Logistics Consultant is another hat that Dear Husband is wearing; armed with a list of possible audition dates and a US map, he is trying to construct a workable travel plan for Oldest Daughter and me to make as many auditions as possible during a three-week period next February. This feat is probably even more complicated than trying to figure out our financial aid qualifications with all our weird oversea financial exceptions. One plan had us in the States for five weeks. Not good. I had unpleasant visions of my younger three children, home alone, watching dvds and playing indoor soccer instead of studying. Not to mention meal prep, etc. So, we pulled the audition slot-machine handle a few more times and came up with a shorter trip, though we will have to eliminate at least one conservatory from the circuit.

Oldest Daughter is at her laptop simultaneously writing and submitting her Ethics mid-term assignment and polishing up her resume and "personal statement" so that she can submit her first online college application tonight--after I go over the 18 page application which she has filled out, that is. Transcripts (my job) and letters of recommendation to follow by snail mail in the next week or two. Did I mention that she also needs to submit preferred audition dates and teachers whom she would like to study with?

Several windows are open on the family desktop on which I am working so that I can check dates, admissions requirements (no two schools alike), and other essential information, relaying it to Oldest Daughter and Dear Husband as they fill out their forms. This week I must finish constructing Oldest Daughter's transcript, complete with detailed class descriptions for those conservatories which are suspicious that homeschooled musicians may have only made music during their high school years and not really studied.

It's getting late and the stress is building. Time to put it aside with plans to start fresh in the morning. I remind Oldest Daughter that Big Unfinished Tasks always seem more overwhelming late at night. Dear Husband wisely suggests we end our evening in prayer. When our hearts are tempted to give in to anxiousness it is so good to confess our weakness, admit our dependence on our gracious Heavenly Father, and receive his perfect peace and strength. And, as I say goodnight to the younger children I remind them: "Blessed are the history and science majors for their college admissions process will be exceedingly easier than that of a violin performance major."

The Kite Runner

The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini

Kiterunner was somewhat of an impulse purchase and impulse read; I had seen it “around” on store shelves, bestseller lists, and had recently noticed it on an Advanced Placement English reading list. So, my curiosity got the best of me when I noticed a lone copy left on the Middle East display table of a new, local bookstore. It’s not as if I needed another book to read right now (see sidebar) but as I thumbed through it I could tell it would be a quick read, and though I don’t read many recently published novels these days, I did want to know what all the acclaim was about. How easily I forget The DiVinci Code.

With over 2000 reader reviews logged at Amazon, The Kite Runner hardly needs another one, but I'll go ahead and add my two cents, mostly because I'm not very good at reviewing books and need some practice.

Reading the coming of age story of Amir, a privledged Afghani living in Kabul inthe 1970s, was not without pleasure. Hosseini writes as an insider and I enjoyed reading descriptions based on childhood memories of his homeland. I also felt like a bit of an insider myself as I found I was able to understand most of the Farsi transliterations, being closely related to Arabic and the Eastern themes of shame and honor, amongs others, were not hard for me to relate to. Additionally, a significant part of the novel is set in Fremont, California, the city I lived in from 1975-1978; the author's mention of Lake Elizabeth, Washington Boulevard, Ohlone Junior College and the San Jose Flea Market sent me waxing nostalgic.

The Literary Review says of Hosseini and The KiteRunner: "His description of Amir's relationship with Hassan is beautifully nuanced, and the moment of Amir's ultimate betrayal is genuinely shocking." Now this is a comment I can agree with. Though meant to be an endorsing comment, as it is in the back of the book, and while I have other positive and negative things to say about this book, the shocking moment of ultimate betrayal is the where the book lost it charm for me--though I admittedly read to the end.

As I said, I don't read many current bestsellers so perhaps this sort of graphic description of the violation of a child is not unusual. It was heartbreaking to read but even more heartbreaking, to me, was the thought that young people are encouraged to read this book. I know these kinds of things and worse happen in our fallen world every day, but I can't believe that reading about them in this way does anything to develop the moral imagination of our youth. Or, of mine.

As for the rest of the book, the beginning, other than the betrayal, was an enjoyable enough read, though not great literature, to be sure, however by the last half of the book the plot had become predictable and implausible. Many reviewers mention, in some way, the theme of redemption--unfortunately the protaganist is his own redeemer and he is not quite up to the task.

First Rain

Though it's not the first day of fall it finally feels like fall; after six plus months of clear blue skies and nary a drop of precipitation, last night the lightening bolted, the thunder clapped, and the rain poured forth. The children (even the teenagers!) went running through the house with smiles on their faces, opening windows and shutters so as to enjoy the full effect of the cool, blustery weather. Tayta (youngest daughter) remarked that she was enjoying the smell of...wet dust. Well, we do have a lot of dust accumulated here, and it is wet.

So now begins the days of sweaters, soups and homemade bread, getting back into the garden to work, and olive harvest. They are welcome days.

October Mottoes (from The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady):

'A Good October and a good blast, to blow the hog, acorn and mast.'

'In October dung your field , and your land it's wealth shall yield.'

~October clouds enjoyed just before sunset~

Sweet~

I know, lots of pictures lately but this one was too sweet to skip. These are two of four kittens being raised around our yard. We have lots of strays in our neighborhood and their presence is only encouraged by two open dumpsters sitting on the vacant lot across from our house. It is unusual to see a litter of kittens of this age so healthy and clean, still being cared for by their mother. Someday soon they'll join the ranks of the "dumpster cats" but for now, they're awfully cute.

Bird ID

Our feathered friend, this time with a name, thanks to a friend who ID'ed it for me. Turns out it isn't a migratory bird but is indigenous to the region:

~ Nectarina Osea~
Palestine Sunbird

Fall Lily

~Urginea maritima~
"Sea Squill"

Having received no precipitation since around April, the arid landscape of soil, rocks and dehydrated flora now presents itself in variegated shades of tan. The fall-blooming white Squill, whose thick, waxy green foliage has long ago dried up, is barely discernible against this neutral backdrop but I was on the look out for it since I had observed it blooming in a particular vacant lot last fall. I hadn't planned to take a night shot but since the vacant lot is in a busy neighborhood, I decided that 'iftar (the time of fast-breaking during Ramadan) would be an opportune time to take my pictures--no one would be outside to notice a goofy foreign woman traipsing around a vacant lot taking pictures of weeds.

Winged Migration

I heard a lovely but unfamiliar bird song from the open back bedroom window this morning; when I peeked out I saw this beautiful bird flitting amidst the grape leaves. Ran to my bedroom. Grabbed the camera. Ran softly through the house and into the backyard. One of the many stray cats which roam our yard had already arrived on the scene--and I don't think he came to admire the beauty of this aviary specimen! Now, here is where my inexpensive telephoto lens comes in handy. The bird stayed around for another 10 seconds or so and was gone. Later in the day, Younger son reported sighting a very small bright yellow bird but unfortunately by the time he got outside with the camera, it was gone.

I'm sorely lacking in my bird identification skills (I really just need to buy the $30 field guide) but Dear Husband says that based on its beak it may be a bee-eater. That makes sense, especially since the bird was flitting amidst the grape vines and the few over-ripe grapes that are left hanging have been attracting bees.

Winter is coming (though you'd never guess it by the still-hot temperatures), which means millions of birds are migrating from Europe to Africa; approximately five million migratory birds fly over Jordan, Israel, and Palestine annually. Though most do not make their path over Amman, we are sometimes fortunate to observe a few of these migrating wonders. Once, while waiting in traffic I saw a flock of pelicans fly overhead!

Meanwhile, inside the house, we are enjoying the wonders of David Attenborough's nature dvds. Fascinating! All of his series are brilliant and not to be missed. Really.



The Life of Birds David Attenborough