Giant Pandas and Teas: Made in China

My number one regret is not traveling more, more widely, and in a more informed manner.  I don't see myself as a rugged explorer by any means, but it is thrilling to travel vicariously with Ruth Harkness to the hinterlands of China in pursuit of this amazing animal.

What a fearless woman she is--to brave diseases and hardships and bandits in the western mountains near Tibet!  She is so exhilarated by gentle good people she meets and the vistas--not to mention the challenge of finding the Giant Panda--that she is not afraid.

Geography and history--as taught in my elementary schools--was so boring that I never got a sense of the countries we "studied."  If only we had had teachers who had traveled, teachers who had stories to tell, pictures to show, I believe I would have been an avid student of the creatures, people and natural beauty of remote areas of the world.  As it is, I'll continue to be a vicarious traveler through books and films.

Isn't it amazing how learning about anything opens doors to other things?

Lately, I have been enjoying the delicious teas I've discovered at a shop at the mall called TeaVana.  Now I have my little tea catalog out beside the book, The Lady and The Panda, and am matching teas with provinces in China described in the book. As the expedition nears Tibet, the explorers see young girls carrying hundred-pound baskets of tea and herb diggers wearing turbans and brilliant blue gowns who "knew these mountains in a way no one else could." For the first time, I have a sense of where my tea comes from--and a deeper appreciation of the people who harvest the leaves and berries.

These teas are said to be rich in antioxidants and other nutrients and their flavors are amazing--fresh and fruity and flowery.

The first face I see in the morning....

Is the face of this blue-eyed doll who sits beside a white lamp on my dresser.  She was one of those spontaneous gifts to me from Mike seven years ago as we were walking through flea markets and antique stores in North Georgia.  

He was always trolling for treasures: neon signs, crockery, juke boxes, anything from the 1950s to add to his mind-boggling collection.  He's created and lives in a virtual Fifties museum packed with a lifetime of finds. He re-builds vintage cars, makes "sofas" out of salvaged front seats of old cars, and has built a pristine Fifties Shell station with old gas pumps he's refurbished.  

I'm not a collector of anything, but from time to time on our trips into Things Of The Past, I'd see something and pick it up, and--before I knew it--he was buying it for me.  

This doll's head is crookedly attached to her body; it droops and wobbles if she's not leaning against the  lamp. Her fingers are cracked and her dress is so threadbare that it probably wouldn't stand up to washing.  But there she is, timeless, peaceful, an emblem of eternal childhood. 

The Lady and the Panda, by Vicki Constantine Croke

          This book is not my usual genre of choice. I rarely read biographical adventure stories, but this one is so compelling it may open up a whole new reading path for me.

         The Lady and the Panda tells the true story of an American socialite, Ruth Harkness, who in 1936 took over her dead husband's expedition to the border of China and Tibet and captured the first giant panda to be seen in the West.   In chapter 2, the author describes the city of Shanghai with such colorful stories and details that I feel transported back in time and across the miles to "a place of serious debauchery and vicious crime." 

          One of the many men who pursue the attractive widow [when she arrives in Shanghai]  is a young journalist, Vic Keane who becomes her guide.  

          He was the picture of the suave, good-natured American in Shanghai.  He lived amicably away from his wife, while win a large, handsome apartment he kept a beautiful and possessive White Russian mistress, whom Harkness described as "a really entrancing creature who speaks practically no English, but enough, I gather to make his life fairly miserable.  When he had to make trips out of town, his wife not only took over the reporting job for him but also assumed guardianship of the mistress, who was "as helpless as a kitten...."

           In the Chinese parts of Shanghai, Harkness saw beauty and a vibrant history.  "All of China, eating, sleeping, living, and loving there as they have for thousands of years--all in the dirty, and airless streets," she wrote.  Harkness pressed on, game to infiltrate even the most wretched dens.  With her newspaper chum as guide, she made her way into a filthy ramshackle building, where the air was redolent...with the sweet and sickening scent of opium. The Westerners stayed to observe a Chinese man and woman as they lay on couches smoking long pipes filled with the drug.

         The writing is excellent; reading these first fifty pages has been like taking a meandering walk into the city, then backtracking a century to the Opium War--and the devastating consequences of that war to the Chinese people. 

         By 1930, it [Shanghai] possessed more prostitutes per capita than any other city in the world. Here, the most depraved people from all walks of life came to satisfy their urges.  One particularly twisted warlord...a six-foot-seven manic with a shaved skull, loved to sweep into Shanghai surrounded by soldiers numbering into the thousands.  Fond of decapitating enemies and posting their heads on telephone poles, [he] played as hard as he butchered....

         Having recently visited Chicago, I'm also interested in the fact that the panda wound up in the Chicago Brookfield Zoo--where he attracted 53,000 visitors in one day, more than any other animal before or since in a single day.  Ruth Harkness and her panda made the front pages of the Chicago Tribute for a nine-day stretch--something no one but a president had ever done before. 

          But I'm getting ahead of myself.  So far, she hasn't even left Shanghai--and I'm already jumping ahead to Chicago!

Another good movie

After the Wedding is a Danish movie starring the same actress who plays in the series, Borgen.

Both are excellent.  Borgen is not available streaming, but I believe it's available on Netflix if you get DVDs.

After the Wedding is a story that connects a wealthy family in Denmark with an orphanage in India. Highly recommended!

Grandparents

        Linda and I met half a lifetime ago.  Our families were both camping at Molas Lake, a little piece of Colorado heaven between Durango and Silverton.  She shared with me a manuscript of a book she'd written (which I read on a rainy day in our pop up while she took my children on a hike) and we discovered so many things in common that we knew we were destined to be friends.  Our parents had the same wedding anniversary; we both had a flower girl in our weddings named Tammy; we both had a brother named Bob.

        Beyond that, we were both reading the same book the day we met: Prince of Tides, and we were on the same page!  And on the way to Molas Lake, we'd both read the same children's book to our sons.  The coincidences kept unrolling, like the film on our old cameras, and we took pictures of each other, knowing we'd keep in touch when they went back to Cape Cod and we went back to Texas.

        Letters written on paper continued until the advent of e-mail.  When we both got set up to start e-mail, Linda resisted.  I assured her we'd keep sending letters by snail mail, but I was wrong.  Like almost everyone else, we moved into the electronic age, and now--except for birthday cards in June and October, our letters are all e-letters.

       Today I got an e-mail from her that described her special relationship with her grandparents and I asked her if I could share it here.  Next to animals and people, one of the things Linda loves most is riding roller coasters.  Reading this letter, I'm reminded of where that love of coasters began--with her Nana and Grampa:

      I loved the photos of Nathan and Elena with the flags. I can't wait to hear about the day Nathan spends with you, "Just you, nobody else."  I loved that he was able to express that.  It's so important to create individual time for each grandchild.  

      My grandparents were great at that.  They seemed to know our individual interests and needs without even having to express them.  Even when it came to Christmas shopping.  They would set a night to take the four of us shopping in downtown Worcester.  It was glorious in its heyday, lights and amazing storefronts, creche on the common, carols singing, bells ringing, and of course my glasses fogging up every time we went into a store from the cold air.  

        I especially loved Denholms with the big revolving door and escalators, and of course Santa was always there just waiting for us to have our photo op with him!  But what I loved was they would split up, each taking turns to let us shop for every member of the family with our nickels and dimes, usually at Newberry's or Woolworths, so we could afford our trinkets and treasures we wanted to give.  We'd meet back up and knew we held secret gifts in our bags, smirking at one another with knowledge the others didn't have.  

         Nana and Grampa knew I loved macaroni and cheese and the boys liked Chinese food...so Nana and I would go to Waldorf's for their famous mac and cheese with pimiento, and the boys and Grampa would go to Chinx, the Chinese Restaurant close by.  

          Summers we enjoyed at their summer camp and the beaches in New Hampshire and Maine.  Hampton Beach, Wells Beach, and Old Orchard Beach.  Old Orchard was famous for the amusement park and pier over the water.  Riding the ferris wheel high up looking at ocean waves was always a highlight.  Grampa would take the boys on the roller coaster, I was only big enough for the small one back then.  Nana and I would  play skeeball in the arcade.  

           Each one of us knew, without a doubt, that we were uniquely special in their eyes.  They were our anchors and safe harbors and the biggest mentors you could ever ask for.  

     

Lemon Posset

Because Charlotte shattered her wrist (dancing, spinning, joyously, by the way), Steve and Janet invited her (and me, thank goodness) for dinner on Wednesday night. Steve grilled delicious pork and Janet made two fresh and beautiful salads. The final course was a dessert Steve made for us: Lemon Posset from Picnikins Patio Cafe.

It reminded me of one of my favorites--lemon panna cotta at Enoteca on South Congress in Austin. I'd drive ninety miles for that dessert any day if it weren't for the cost of gas added to the price of the lemon panna cotta! This could be the same recipe; it tastes exactly like it. Steve added cut-up strawberries to the top and it was heavenly.

Ingredients:

2 cups heavy cream
3/4 c. sugar
1/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice, strained
Mint or berries and powdered sugar to garnish.

Bring cream and sugar to a boil in a stainless steel pan.  Reduce heat to a simmer and whisk for 6 to 8 minutes.  Remove from heat and add lemon juice.  Pour into small glasses or bowls and place in refrigerator to cool for 3-4 hours.  Garnish with mint or berries.  Dust with powdered sugar before serving.

Thanks, Steve, for sharing this recipe!

"The Apostle" with Robert Duvall

For anyone who loves Southern Gospel music, or for anyone who grew up in the South or ever visited a "Holy Ghost Church," this movie is for you.

Robert Duvall is spot-on perfect as the East Texas/Louisiana preacher, Farrah Fawcett his wife, and the whole congregation and radio man so authentic that you figure they aren't actors at all but people pulled right off the street (or should I say right out of the pews?) of some bayou town in LA.

On a road trip once upon a time, Deb and I heading to Florida to see Nellie, we went to one of my favorite towns in Louisiana, Breaux Bridge, not far from the state line and Lafayette.  Zydeco music and dancing on Saturday morning, white chocolate bread pudding in Cafe Des Amis.

"If you don't want to be on the devil's hit list, you better be on Jesus' mailing list," shouts the preacher.

"Now hug somebody's neck," he says, and the people do, and say Amen.

Duvall captures the spirit of those old time preachers and then some.  He's had himself a zigzaggy past and he has some history as a "womanizer"--which ultimately leads to his downfall "in the eyes of the world," but he's got himself a Heaven-bound airplane and is unstoppable.  He can fight and fix cars and "yell at Jesus" when he's mad at him.

I loved this movie!

"Happy Birthday, America!" by Nathan

At the pool today, there were flags outside, 

and Nathan wanted his picture taken with one.

So here they are, Nathan and Elena, 

holding flags and Nathan making up a song:

"Happy Birthday, America!"--Elena singing along.  

"I'd do anything for my country," he told me on the way home. 

 "That means you are patriotic," I said. 

"What does that mean?"

"It means you love your country."

"Is that good?" he asked.

Happy Fourth of July, Everybody!

from Yenna, Nathan and Elena

Beauty

A conversation can be beautiful.  I'll start there.

Because I'm a Libra, some say, I'm attracted to symmetry and balance.  A balanced conversation has potential for beauty, both people on the same track, or close.  Beauty in conversation includes sparks of insights, surprises and nuggets of wisdom and things to think about.

Dancing can be beautiful.   I got a text from my old flame, Mike, at 5:00 this morning: "Can I have this dance?"   He's the kind of dancer who, when I danced with him, I felt like a beautiful dancer--which, actually,  I'm not.

So many books have beauty--from the cover to the feel of the pages to the stories that unfold on their pages.

A human personality can certainly be beautiful: nuanced, funny, warm, affectionate, wise, mysterious.

Betty said that what makes her heart sing are sunsets and mountain views.  We've shared so many beautiful mountain views on our shared road trips in the past thirty years.

Houses and yards--even ragged ones--can be beautiful if they bear the imprints of the people who live there, especially if they are places of hospitality and friendship.

The happy faces of children, innocent and full of wonder--that may be the most beautiful of all.

Favorite Things....

What fun it's been to get two emails about favorite things in one day!


Diana wrote:

Bookmarks.  I can never pass up a rack of them.  I select for myself and to give as gifts. From my collection I can always find the perfect bookmark for each book I read.

Bottles of nail polish. All colors.  I haven't worn anything but clear on my fingernails for years, but my toes always have a color.  I feel so daring, picking out a new shade. Then find it's the same or similar to all the ones I already have.

Raindrops running down a glass window.  I love to watch them merge and flow together or make their
solitary way down the glass.

Shorty pajamas.  I don't own any, but every time I see some on racks in the store, I remember my sister as a skinny child, fresh out of bed, chasing a noisy guinea hen around the yard in her shorty p.j.s because it woke her too early.

Linda--my California friend--wrote:

 I like all animals, but almost any puppy is adorable. I also like baby squirrels, so much fun to raise, and I am fascinated by the tiny baby turtles that pop up from the sand and and head for the big blue ocean. How resolute and brave they are. Snorkeling among fish is hypnotic, loved all the varieties in Hawaii. Love my car, that's an easy one!