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~ The adventures of Richard and Julie Lary

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Invocation #31: Touch Me Not

19 Saturday Apr 2014

Posted by rajalary in Invocations

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invocation, Julie Lary, rajalary, rose ridnor

The words are meant simply as a mild rebuke for something the other had thoughtlessly done.

The tone was low-keyed. The manner polite. The intent friendly.

The other bristled and took offense. The retort came out angry.

So began an exchange of recriminations.

Friends are friends no more.

O Lord, why do people have to be so sensitive!

My grandmother was a copious writer. Recently, I found a notebook, which I thought was a collection of miscellaneous observations, but further reading revealed it was a diary from 1948. She’d typed pages of everyday occurrences and observations from the oppressive summer heat in her Burbank, California home to deep philosophical ruminations about world events.

She also wrote about family strife. Her husband, Morris, had seven eccentric sisters whose lives overshadowed the happenings occurring between my grandmother’s three sisters and three brothers. The latter lives, in contrast, were dull.

While the event my grandmother wrote about in the invocation above probably had nothing to do with her immediate family, it illustrates the perpetual drama, which became a part of her life, following her marriage. With seven artistic, energetic sisters-in-law, each trying to success in a world where making an impact requires more than determination, there were continual marriages, divorces, births, jobs losses and successes, housing changes, and bickering among each other and in-laws. Contributing to the discord was a generous helping of mental illness, ranging from narcissism to nymphomania and schizophrenia.

A Flee up a Tree

14 Monday Apr 2014

Posted by rajalary in Rose's Writings

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Julie Lary, rajalary, rose ridnor

I recently uncovered one of my grandmother’s whimsical poems. She was a prolific writer who could write everything from philosophical essays to silly poems for her children and grandchildren.

One day…
At a spray pool, near a day school,
A fat gray cat and a lean white rat,
Sat down on a mat to have a fine chat.

Meanwhile…
About fifty feet down the street,
As an alley where playmates meet,
A mean little brat with nothing better to do,
Was kicking at a vat with the top of his shoe.

Suddenly…
The mean little brat spied the gray cat and white rat
Sitting on a mat, having a chat.
“Oho,” said the brat, I’ll soon put a stop to THAT!
I can’t stand for fat cats to plat footsies with lean rats.

So-o-o…
With head bent low, nose to the ground
He scouted around like a blooded hound
Until a fat wood slat he found.

“He, he, he,” he giggled with glee,
Watch me have a dog-gone spree.
With one clean swat, I’ll scat the cat, bean the rat,
Then, “ho, ho, ho,” make them flee up the tree.

He sneaked around without a sound
Until he stood, as near as he could,
Behind the fat cat and lean rat
Deep in their soulful chat.

Lifting the slat like a baseball bat,
Making sure his grip was steady,
He braced himself, he got ready,
He got set…

Hey there… hold it…
Is everybody read?
Is everybody set?
Is everybody watching the mean little brat?

All right, then…
Here we go…
Ready… Aim… Bombs a-WAY…

Swish… POW… BOOM…
Wow! He missed!
“Drats!” little brat hissed.

With a start…
Gray cat and lean rat, whirled ‘round,
Mouths agape, eyes ‘astound.
In heaven’s name, what kind of game…

But…
Mean brat was already lifting the slat,
Getting ready, another swat.
This he time, he’d not miss.
Or his name wasn’t Sthunkie Bliss.

This time, no getting ready, no getting set
He was shooting off like a hopped-up jet.

He pulled back to fire up…

Gr-r-r-r-r-gr-rohr-rowl-lbulldogart2

What was THAT?
Mean brat jumped and let out a yowl.
He stood stock still,
But through his bones ran a chill
Then head turned ‘round,
Mouth agape, eyes ‘stound.
And when he saw… WOW… he almost
Fainted to the ground.

What was it he did see?
Well, there by the tree
Stretched on the ground,
Behind a tall mound,
Never making a sound,
Was a big black, curly-haired hound!

Slowly… like a status come to life,
Hound dog rose up on haunches
Big as fat men’s paunches.
His muscles began to quiver,
His tail gave warning with a shiver.

His face took on a scowl.
From his throat came a growl…
Who dare swing a bat at my friend the cat,
And my friend the rat,
Especially when I’m listening to
Their interesting chat?
Who dare!

Now who do you think began to shiver and shake
Like a lump of unbaked jelly cake?
And who do you think dropped the slat,
Started to run like a scaredy cat?

The man little brat?
You’re right. You’re hooten’ right.

And those feet pounded up the tree
Like they were being chased by a bumble-bee?
The mean little brat’s?
You’re right. You’re hooin’, tootin’ right!

And who laughed and giggled
Until their ears wiggled and whiskers squiggled?
Fat cat, lean rat, blooded hound, and everyone else around?
You’re right. You’re hootin’, tootin’, shootin’ right.

And who should be washing dishes, scrubbing floors
Soaping jelly-prints off kitchen doors,
Instead of messing around with
Fat cats, lean rats, and mean brats,
Blooded hounds atop grassy mounds
Coconut trees, and bumble-bees
Spray pools and day schools?

Who? Who?

You’re wrong! You’re hootin’, tootin’, double-shootin’ wrong!
YOU should be helping your Mom with
Washing dishes, scrubbing floors,
Soaping jelly-prints off kitchen doors…
NOT ME!

So hop to it, and don’t you cry,
Everything will be automated bye’ n’ bye.
Just wait until your Mom hitches a ride on a fly
To catch up with Daddy’s promise of pie-in-the-sky.

Rose Ridnor

Two-Day Island Staycation

06 Sunday Apr 2014

Posted by rajalary in Food and drink, Travel

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Brown Bear Baking, Deer Harbor, Doe Bay, Eastsound, Julie Lary, Lopez Island, Orcas Island, rajalary, Richard Lary, Rosario

Several years ago, Rich celebrated my birthday by planning an elaborate surprise staycation where he revealed the details of what we’d be doing at the last minute, including spending the night at the Waterfront Marriot, and enjoying a Sunday brunch at the top of the Space Needle.

This year, he decided to do the same, and once again, he refused to reveal the details until the last minute. On Saturday, before Rich left to show a potential client a home, he told me to pack outdoor gear and my hiking boots. Although, after some consideration, he revised hiking books to Keens.

With our bags packed, cats and birds feed, house secured, and bellies full from homemade pizza, we headed to our Mount Vernon home, where my mother lives. Every week, we do her grocery shopping, gather the trash and recycling (we don’t have garbage pick-up in Mount Vernon so we have to cart it back to Kirkland), restock supplies, cook (i.e. chocolate pudding, chopped liver, chicken soup, etc.) and other household tasks that aren’t done by her caretakers.

After shopping, Rich thumbed through our Entertainment Book to find a place to eat. Unfortunately, most of the restaurants aren’t located in Mount Vernon or Burlington. With few options, I recommended Taco Bell. We’re never disappointed by cheap, but satisfying burritos, chicken tacos, and 99-cent cheese roll-ups.

That evening, we watched a flick on TV, and made sure everything was ready for the next morning, when the alarm went off at 5:30 a.m.

Off to Orcas

The first stop of our two-day staycation was McDonald’s. In early March, they had a newspaper insert with buy-one-get-one-free coupons. The day we received the insert, Rich raced down to a local apartment complex, and scrounged through their recycling bins, harvesting a stack of coupons. For the past month, we’ve been eating lots of McDonald’s food, principally iced coffees with vanilla flavoring and caramel Frappuccino’s.

View Eastsound and Rosario

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Plus, each time we used a coupon, we got a receipt, which invited us to take an online survey. When you take the survey, you’re given a code, which can be used for purchasing… wait for the drum roll… buy-one-get-one-free breakfast sandwich or cheeseburger.

On Saturday morning, armed with a code, we started the day with buy-one-get-one-free Egg McMuffins and coffees.

With food in our stomachs, we headed to Anacortes to take the ferry to Orcas Island. We had an enjoyable ride over, arriving around 9 a.m. Our first stop was Eastsound, which is the main town, smack dab in the middle of the wishbone-shaped island. I didn’t know what to expect, but was pleasantly surprised. It reminded me of an upscale seaside town on the east coast with cool inns and bed & breakfasts, art galleries, bookstores, quaint churches, and hip restaurants, serving organic, fresh-off-the-farm meals.

We wandered around, snapping pictures, and unwinding from the week. One of the highlights is the Emmanuel Episcopal Church, which is on the National Registry of Historic Place. It comprises several charming, whitewashed buildings, and has a large labyrinth, which I walked around, contemplating the day when we can move to our house in Coupeville, and become residents, and not just visitors to the islands.

With it lightly drizzling, we were on the lookout for a place to pull up a chair and sit until the weather cleared. We spotted Brown Bear Baking. As soon as we opened the door, we were struck by the aroma of fragrant breads, buttery pastries, and fresh-brewed coffee. Ignoring the display case of sweet and savory goodies, our eyes drifted to the round, crusty loaves of bread behind the counter. We chose the Kalamata olive and rosemary loaf, but the counter staff accidentally gave us the fig and apricot loaf. It was a nice surprise… so tasty that throughout our trip, we ripped off and ate big chunks. And we resolved to purchase another loaf the following morning before we left the island!

As a side note, I’m glad Brown Bear Baking is ferry-ride away because it would be hard to resist their unbelievable loaves of bread, beautiful quiches, mouth-watering croissants, gorgeous muffins, dreamy cakes, and other treats. It’s much easier to refrain from grocery-store baked goods!

Scoping out Resorts

Our first stop was Rosario Resort, which one of my favorite marinas, and where the Moran Mansion is located. It’s the crown jewel of the Puget Sound, and unlike most exclusive resorts, the public is welcome to wander the grounds, and walk through the main building, in this case, the mansion. Check out the photo gallery to see what makes the resort a memorable place to visit… and stay by boat or car.

And read about our adventure at Rosario four years ago.

Next, we headed to Olga, which is the town time must have forgotten. It consists of a closed general store, and tiny post office. Or maybe we blinked while driving through the town.

Actually, Olga is very much like most of Orcas Island, lightly populated with quaint shops, inns, and bed & breakfasts (like the Orcas Hotel), discreetly tucked among the trees, which hibernate during the winter months, and open up in the spring through the summer. You can also visit Olga Pottery, which has very pretty, Asian-influenced vases, pitches, cups, bowls, and plates.

Our next stop was Obstruction Pass, which Rich claims we’ve moored off of during one of our charter trips. From a boat, most of the coastline looks the same!

On the east side of the island is Doe Bay State Park, and Doe Bay Resort & Spa. The resort is a labor of love, and designed to accommodate visitors from those looking for a rustic experience of pitching a tent to those wanting a relaxing vacation, complete with spa treatments and yoga sessions.

Rich and I walked around and were in awe of the campsites with names like antelope, baer’s lair, coot corner, crow’s nest, eagle’s nest, grouse grove, heron, hollow log, hummingbird, minke, and warbler. Our favorite site was seagull’s bed, which is a small site, perched on a high-bank cliff, overlooking the water. Seal landing is a bit larger, but so close to the cliff-edge that there’s a small fence so you don’t walk over the edge if you sleepwalk.

We’ve never seen campsite, which are not only smartly designed to provide privacy, but feature dramatic views.

Nestled between the camp sites are yurts and dooms, some of which have queen-sized beds. Three of the yurts are located steps from the water like the beach yurt.

The hostel is an affordable, and no doubt warmer place to sleep in bad weather. Along with communal beds, there have several rooms for couples.

My choice would be one of their cabins with a kitchenette, bed, table and chairs, electricity, bathroom, and a heater!

Along with accommodations, the resort has a general store, spa (we saw a naked man climb into one of the hot tubs… eck!), restaurant, yoga studio, rentals (kayak, boat), and of course, strategically placed benches for viewing the scenery.

I’ve already planted a bug in Rich’s head that I want to stay at Doe Bay for my next birthday!

Cozy Room with Surprise Inside

Still nibbling on our bread, we headed west to Deer Harbor, where we checked in at the Deer Harbor Inn. Rich had purchased a Groupon to stay at the inn. Our room was in the Log Cabin Lodge, which has eight rooms, four on the top floor, and four on the bottom. They also have a couple of cabins.

Our second-story room was lovely with a large pine bed, and matching chairs, and table. On the fireplace was a picnic basket, much to our surprise, filled with food for the next morning, including English muffins, hard-boiled eggs, bowls of homemade granola, bananas, and packets of jelly. In the small refrigerator was milk, butter, orange juice, and bottles of water.

After putting our bags in our room, we drove down to Deer Harbor Marina. We were hoping they had the huge ice cream cones, which we usually order when we stay in the marina. However, it being late March and still chilly, they didn’t have ice cream. Instead, we found several chairs overlooking the marina, and continued nibbling on the Brown Bear Baking bread, pretzels, and drinks we’d purchased earlier in the day.

View Deer Harbor

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A large black crow was also interested in what we were eating. He stood on top of the railing just a few feet from us. We marveled at the variety and color of his feathers. His head and cowl had tiny, soft, matte black feathers. His wings were covered with long iridescent black feather that glistened in the sun. The smaller feathers, covered the rest of his body, were deep, matte gray. Its legs and feet were covered with shiny black scales.

He (or she) was very elegant, and patient, waiting for us to place a few pieces of bread on the railing. He’d then pick them up, and fly down to a barrel where a pool of water had formed. After soaking the bread for a few moments, he’d gobble it down, and then fly to another bird, who was waiting with beak open for the regurgitated food.

When we switched to feeding the crow pretzels, he’d bury them in the planter boxes, no doubt for a future meals.

Once the crow flew off, we decided to take a walk around the marina. As we approached the end of a dock, a beautiful gray cat popped out of an open port hole on a small motorboat, dashed across the deck, leapt onto the dock, and raced towards us. It was a full-on cat attack!

She was eager to be pet, rolling over so we could scratch her tummy, and meowing her gratitude. She accompanied us to the boat where she lives. There was a cat bed in the pilot house where she must curl up at night.

Sticking to our Kool-Aide budget staycation, and not wanting a large meal after nibbling on bread all day, we opted to drive to a grocery store in Eastsound. We walked from one end of the store to the other until we settled on a bag of chicken tamales in green sauce (in corn husks), individual salads from the deli section, and a bag of Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies.

We returned to our room, and refrigerated the food, and then set out on foot for a walk around the area. We turned down the road to a residential area, and feed long blades of grass to two goats, guarding a boat repair facility, and then crossed over a narrow bridge to the other side of Deer Harbor.

At top of the hill was another marina. We thoroughly enjoy walking around marinas, looking at the boats, and strategizing how one day we hope to have a 35-foot Catalina sailboat, named Monkey About. “Come about” is a sailing term, and “Monkey” was the name of one of our cats, who passed away in Texas.

As we neared the end of one of the dock, we saw several birds perched on boats, squawking loudly. Less than 20 feet away, on a floating dock, was a bald eagle picking at a dead crab. Bald eagles are scavengers and have no hesitancy of taking food from other birds. Rich snapped quite a few picture before he flew away.

Back at the Deer Harbor Inn, Rich heated the tamales in the microwave in the common area, while I assembled the salads. While it might not seem like a fabulous dinner, we thoroughly enjoyed it in our cozy room, topped off with chocolate chip cookies.

Afterwards, we grabbed a couple of magazines, turned on the propane fireplace in the common area, and read for an hour or so. Sitting in front of a warm gas or propane is ten times better than a smoky, smelly traditional fireplace, which burns wood.

Warmed up, I recommended we hope in the hot tub. Rich was concerned because we forgot to bring our bathing suits, but I persisted, explaining everyone in the lodge had probably left for dinner, and most of the hot tub is obscured by the gazebo.

We took the minimum clothing with us, stripped down, hopped in the tub, and enjoyed the warmth and soothing bubbles, before jumping out, throwing on our clothes, and dashing back into the lodge. During that time, the only souls that saw us were some foraging rabbits.

Amazing Views with Each Turn

The next morning, we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast (the items in the basket left in our room), before going back to Brown Bear Baking for a loaf of bread to bring home. We then drove to Moran State Park. Opened in 1921, the park initially consisted of 2,700 acres donated by Robert Moran, a shipbuilder and former major of Seattle. A few years later, he donated another 1,000 acres. Today, the park is more than 5,200 acres with more than 38 miles of hiking trails from gentle forest loops to challenging ascents.

View Moran State Park

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In the 1930’s the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), built trails, roads, bridges, and 21 buildings, including the Ellsworth Storey tower, atop Mount Constitution. For our jaunt, we chose the Mount Constitution Loop, which is 6.7 miles, rated “difficult.”

We parked by Mountain Lake, which is 917 feet in elevation. We then trudged up to the top of Mount Constitution, which is 2,409 feet in elevation. The first mile or so was heart-pumping hard. The next two miles was a steady, but tolerable uphill climb. It was worth getting to the top because even though the Ellsworth Storey tower doesn’t look impressive in picture, it’s four stories in height, and provides what is considered one of the top marine views in the nation.

Originally built as a fire lookout, the tower offers a 360◦ view of the San Juan archipelago, Vancouver Island, and the Cascade and Olympic Mountain ranges. Plus, the tower is superbly constructed out of sandstone with wrought iron railings, door hinges and knobs, and other details, forged and shaped by CCC blacksmiths. At the top of the tower is an enclosed room with beautiful paneling and a heavy wooden door with ornate handles and hinges. I’m was awestruck by the workmanship!

Our decent back down to Mountain Lake, nearly 4 miles, was quick. We then drove to Orcas Village to catch a 3:00 ferry to Lopez Island, where we’d have less than an hour “lay-over” until we could get on the ferry to Anacortes. We reasoned it would be fun to spend some time on Lopez rather than hang-out on Orcas for a “direct” ferry to Anacortes.

Our plan would have worked out if there hadn’t been a mishap with the second ferry. We ended up waiting in the ferry line on Lopez Island for nearly two hours… polishing off the rest of the fig and apricot bread, reading magazines, and trying to get a cell phone signal.

View Fun on Ferries

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Nevertheless, with amazing weather, it was enjoyable hanging out on the island, people watching, and taking two ferries. And we got to Anacortes 5 minutes before the “direct” ferry from Orcas Island. As we drove way, we could see the “direct” ferry circling in the harbor, waiting for the ferry we’d arrived on to leave.

As we drove back to Mount Vernon to retrieve the groceries we’d purchased a few days earlier, we reflected on our wonderful staycation… and the opportunity to escape from work, household chores, gardening, caregiving, and the myriad of tasks that need to be done.

Plus, Tuesday and Wednesday evening, we enjoyed Brown Bear bread for dinner. I poached eggs in minced kale, parsley, spices, and wine. The eggs were then placed on two thick slices of bread, which had been drizzled with olive oil. Layers on top of the eggs was sliced tomatoes, lightly cooked asparagus, and cheese. I then cooked everything in a 400◦ oven for 15 minutes. The eggs were slightly soft, and made the dish magically when poked with a fork.

Invocation #30: The Thief Within

24 Monday Feb 2014

Posted by rajalary in Invocations

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invocation, Julie Lary, rajalary, rose ridnor

It is commanded: Thou shalt not steal.

The thief, by stealth or gun, can steal anything, and everything, depriving the victim of material goods, treasured possessions, even peace of mind, and trust beyond the reach of the thief. The inner resources, the inner strengths, the feeling of self-worth that enables the victim to surmount the loss and remain whole.

But what if the thefts are committed by ourselves upon ourselves? Like robbing the body of vitality and physical well-being be neglect or over-indulgence.

Despoiling the mind with drink and drugs. Indulging in self-gratifications that deplete mind, body, and soul, and destroy one’s sense of personal value and worth.

Denying oneself the satisfaction of accomplishment by chasing after mirages instead of realities.

And where shall we find our inner strengths and resources if we allow them to wither along the way?

If we victimize ourselves are we less the thief than the stranger who steals our gold?

O Lord, there is no greater wisdom than that embodied in your commandments, but may we add another: Thou shalt not commit theft upon thine own self.

Wow!

I don’t know if I can offer any commentary on what my grandmother wrote, besides admitting to the unequivocal theft upon myself. I’m not sure I chase “mirages,” but I certainly deny myself the satisfaction of accomplishment and squash my inner strengths and resources by habitually discrediting the quality of my work. Then again, maybe my dissatisfaction with my work stems from having to crank it out so quickly.

In my mind, what’s produced quickly can’t possibly carry the save gravitas as something mulled over for days, weeks or months. But, today’s work environment dictates a few do the work once done by many, at an accelerated pace, fueled by the speed of email, convenience of remote conference (and video) calls, and efficiency of PCs and devices.

Perhaps the real thief of inner strength, resources, and self-worth is technology. Like drink and drugs, it doesn’t discriminate or have pity. It lures in its victims, intoxicating them with power and entertainment. Consider the enticement of online games, social networks, videos, dating, and even pornography.

Thirty years ago, when my grandmother typed this invocation on a typewriter, she never could have imagined the bits and bytes of electronics could one day become more insidious and intoxicating than any theft one could commit upon themselves.

Innovation #29: The Harsh Reality

01 Saturday Feb 2014

Posted by rajalary in Invocations, Rose's Writings

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invocation, Julie Lary, rajalary, rose ridnor

It has come, O’ Lord, the moment of truth. A harsh reality must be faced.

And we don’t want to. We wish we could close our eyes and it would go away. It won’t. Try as we might, deny or mask over, a reality, out in the open or lurking in the shadows, can’t evaporate into thin air.

Despite pain and reluctance, we must face the problem. And when we do, a decision must be made. A harsh, crucial decision. A flat yes or no.

We know, O’ Lord, no matter whether personal or business, a parting, a staying, a giving, a taking, a beginning, an ending, life or death, there must be mind-searching, weighing, debating. And the final yes, or no, must be our own. It’s a lonely pathway.

Until then, O’ Lord, grant us the understanding to know that until we face our problem, we can’t solve it.

Grant us the courage to face it without flinching, the wisdom to choose the decision wisely, and the fortitude to accept the consequences.

Help us, O’ Lord, not to run away.

I wonder what issue (or issues) my grandmother was facing when she wrote this invocation. Was she referring to herself or someone else?

Several thoughts are running through my mind when I read this invocation. First, the synagogue where I attend, has been searching for a senior rabbi for the past six or so months. The current rabbi announced his retirement, and a replacement needs to be found. The junior rabbi, a wise woman, who’s been with the synagogue for over ten years, was one of the top six candidates. She wasn’t chosen, however. Two male rabbis were selected. Both declined, citing family issues.

A week later, the woman rabbi gave her notice. The synagogue is now left with having to quickly identity an interim rabbi or perhaps offer the position to one of the other top candidates. It’s a harsh reality.

My empathy for the situation, nevertheless, doesn’t reside with the synagogue, but the female rabbi who was passed over.

For the past ten years, she’s juggled driving 60 miles, several times a week, from Olympia, Washington, where her husband is a rabbi at another synagogue, to Bellevue, Washington, where she’s the junior rabbi. In addition, she has two young sons, the oldest celebrated his Bar Mitzvah last year.

She’s been a fine rabbi, education director, and advocate for women’s issues. She’s influenced the direction of the synagogue, making it a caring and inclusive environment that puts more emphasis on the welfare of its members and devotion to Judaism, than their status and monetary donations (often a determining factor in certain reform congregations).

Plain and simple, she was the logical choice to succeed the senior rabbi, and build on the reputation, direction, and aura of the synagogue. Aura is the correct word. A rabbi like her, who greets everyone that walks through the doors, looking them in the eye, and taking a genuine interest in their lives, is what turns a cold sanctuary into an accepting haven.

The harsh reality she faced was whether she should continue to say “yes,” in spite of the rabbi search committee saying “no,” or the difficult choice of choosing “no,” after giving ten selfless years to the congregation. She strove down a “lonely path,” but in the end, she made a thoughtful decision.

By not selecting the candidate with the most experience with the congregation’s values, its members, religious school programs, local, and extended community, the rabbi search committee disregarded their core duty of retaining and building on the momentum of the synagogue. Hopefully, they have the strength of character to accept the results of their decision.

Rich Lary Realtor Launched!

05 Sunday Jan 2014

Posted by rajalary in Family, Rich Lary Realtor

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Coldwell Banker Bain, Julie Lary, kirkland realtors, rajalary, Rich Lary, Rich Lary Realtor

Rich Lary realtor with Coldwell Banker Bain in KirklandLast week, we had a “soft” launch of Rich’s new website. It’s shaping up nicely with articles about local real estate, glimpses of the Pacific Northwest, home improvement, and of course, a few recipes disguised under “Cheating Gourmet.”

Please tell your friends about Rich’s new endeavor as a broker with Coldwell Banker Bain in Kirkland, and point them to www.richlaryrealtor.com and his Coldwell Banker Bain page.

Thanks!

Julie

Invocation #28: False Witness

28 Saturday Dec 2013

Posted by rajalary in Invocations, Rose's Writings

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invocation, Julie Lary, rajalary, rose ridnor

It is commended: Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.

If we lie about our neighbors, or to them, we might make them angry, or hurt them, but they need not accept. They can easily destroy the lie by searching out the truth.

But, what if we lie to ourselves? What if, because we can’t face the truth, we tell ourselves that what is isn’t. What isn’t is. Or deny we did what we did? Or said what we said?

Or lie to ourselves that it’s okay to cheat on an exam, or a score card, or income tax. And what’s so wrong with adultery as long as your mate doesn’t find out?

Some lies weave a web of fantasy, and to maintain that fantasy we need to concoct another lie, and another, and another. Until the mind gets confused it can’t distinguish between truth and falsehood, reality and fiction.

Truth has substance; no matter how it is hidden it’s still there. A lie is a figment of the imagination, vaporous, for which no truths can be found when needed?

O Lord, let us not lose our sense of reality, or fear to face a truth.

Teach us, thou shalt not lie unto owns self.

I’m writing a response to this invocation on Christmas day. A few minutes ago, Bryan and Casey, my step-children’s sister and her husband showed up. They were carrying a newsletter, which showed a picture of one of their relatives who quite suddenly announced they were breaking up.

They’d been married for years, and to observers they were madly in love, a model couple. However, it came to light that they husband had been having an affair for many, many years. The truth caught up with him after years of lies. Evidently, he worked with the woman with whom he was having the affair, and there was no covering up the truth once the deception started to leak out.

Regrettably for the perpetrator, and those around them, a lie or deception can be challenging to mask. My grandmother wrote in a diary she kept in 1953 of my mother’s mendacity. At the time, my mother, who was 22 years old and was having an affair with Herb Ross, an older, divorced man, whose Jewish origin (and sincerity) was questionable. The affair had been going on for quite some time, with their breaking up, and then getting back together.

What was consistent was the lies of my mother saying she wasn’t seeing him, but then disappearing for days or come home in the wee hours. Herb had confided in my grandmother that he wanted to break up with my mother, but they continued to see each other.

In mid-year, my mother moved out of her parent’s house. While she said she was living with someone named “Mickey,” she was probably spending most of her time with Herb. In November, they announced they planned to get married. However, my mother never married Herb. Five years later, when she was 27, she married my father Bernard Stark, who was 10 years older, and worked with his father in the garment industry in downtown Los Angeles.

I’m not sure my father ever knew of my mother’s past. I do know my mother confided in my father’s best friend that she was still in touch with her ex-lover. Sure enough, when my father died in 1970, after 12 years of marriage, my mother promptly resumed her relationship with Herb. At the time, he was married, and owned a children’s camp in Mammoth, California.

Running the camp gave him the freedom to spend weeks at a time with my mother, claiming he was on the road meeting with families of future campers or up in Mammoth, fixing up the camp.

My mother’s relationship with Herb, of course, perpetrated another round of lies. This time, my brother and I weren’t allowed to tell anyone about Herb. We’d refer to him as “HR.” When he called, sometimes when my grandparents were visiting, we were instructed to say “HR was on the phone.”

Our lies extended to not telling the truth about the cars parked in the driveway, beat-up boat in the side yard, and why my mother would spend most of the day in a bathrobe or sexy lingerie, jumping in-and-out of bed with Herb.

Where did the lies get her? Nowhere. Eight years after my father’s death, we moved to Oregon. My mother claimed we moved because I’d visited my cousin’s beach house in Lincoln City, and I wanted to move. However, no one packs up their house and moves because their 14-year old daughter liked a particular city.

Instead, we probably moved because my mother didn’t want the responsibility of caring for her aging parents, or her paranoia about Los Angeles crime convinced her Portland would be a safer place to live. In either case, Herb visited Oregon once, and never returned, and never called her again.

To this day, she continues to basks in the fantasy of her “perfect” relationship and love with Herb. However, reality bears another truth. She was never more than a convenient bedmate. Once her usefulness or convenience ran out, she was discarded.

Invocation #27: Covet

26 Thursday Dec 2013

Posted by rajalary in Invocations, Rose's Writings

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Allen Ridnor, invocation, Julie Lary, rajalary, rose ridnor

It is commanded: Thou shalt not covet.

Not they neighbors’ possessions, nor those in his pay, nor those bound to him by love. Nor envy that they possesses more than we. For we have not earned nor been given them.

Yet this is another type of coveting. Ironically, one built on admiration, the envy of another’s talents, and the wish they were ours.

We wish we could paint as our friend, the artist. Or earn plaudits as a cook, a ballplayer, a speaker, an immaculate housekeeper, the business executive. We feel diminished by our own supposed lack of talent.

O Lord, let each one see there is no personal without talent. We all have skills; we all have aptitudes. We each can do something that will enhance our own feeling of accomplishment.

We need not envy another. We need only to find our own.

Help us O Lord to search out our skills and guide us to their development.

Even though my grandmother saw herself as ordinary, and maybe at times, less than adequate as a wife, mother, daughter, or housewife, she had talents that many, even to this day, covet. She was an extraordinary writer and philosopher, along with an unselfish advocate for family members who sought her counsel during times-of-need.

A few weeks ago, her son, Allen Ridnor, passed away. My initial thought was she was lonely in heaven, and wanted one of her son to join her. It was a ridiculous thought. After all, for the past year, Allen had been struggling with health issues, finally succumbing to aggressive acute leukemia.

After learning of Allen’s death, I contacted his wife of nearly 60 years. She asked that I send a few words in his memory. Not knowing what to write, I sought my grandmother’s help. I located a bankers box of her papers, and after a little searching found a diary she kept in 1953.

For the most part, my grandmother wrote little about her family. The diary I found was a treasure trove of tidbits about her everyday life from waking up on chilly mornings to lamenting the summer heat, questioning her parenting skills, shopping for a new outfit, visiting family, or contemplating a pressing social issue.

A few pages into the diary, she wrote about babysitting my cousin, Bobby, who was around two at the time. She claimed “I haven’t changed any since my own baby-sitting days. I still don’t know how to play with children and entertain them! I feel so self-conscious attempting to sing to them or get down to their level.”

Decades later, however, she had no objections to climbing under a dining room table, and playing Barbie dolls with her granddaughter Jenny. And from a maternal point-of-view, she was more of a mother to me than my own mother.

Yesterday, while typing this invocation, my step-daughter Stacey, was thumbing through the stack of invocations, in awe of the profound wisdom contained in them. She snapped a couple with her smart phone to later read and reflect on their wisdom.

My grandmother had no need to covet what others had, especially with her own enviable talents.

Two Thanksgivings. Three States.

15 Sunday Dec 2013

Posted by rajalary in Family, Travel

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Bullhead City, Downtown Container Park, El Cortez, Fremont Street Experience, Golden Nugget, Grand Hotel, Julie Lary, Las Vegas, rajalary, Rich Lary

Mount Vernon

This year, we had two Thanksgivings. One Thanksgiving with my mother in Mount Vernon, and a second the following day with Rich’s father, Ted Robertson, in Bullhead City, Arizona, just over the border from Laughlin, Nevada.

The Thanksgiving preparations began on Wednesday evening with my making stuffing for the turkey. It was late in the evening, and I was rushing. I’d purchased food for the Thanksgiving the weekend before and put it in the refrigerator in Mount Vernon. I brought the rest from Kirkland. Instead of bringing jars of spices and fresh picked herb from my herb barrel, I grabbed a container of Cajun seasoning.

I browned a large onion and several stalks of celery, and then added half a loaf of moistened cubed Greek olive bread, sliced mushrooms, and chopped parsley. I regrettably poured, instead of sprinkled in the Cajun seasoning. Even though I realized I’d added too much, I stared mixing.

The stuffing was way too salty!

Thanksgiving in Mount Vernon Washington

Thanksgiving in Mount Vernon

So I cubed up the rest of the olive bread… added in more chopping parsley, and started to search around for more stuff to add. Luckily, I’d bought a bell pepper last week for my mother, which her caregiver didn’t use. It got chopped and dumped in the stuffing. Next, I went outside and picked some kale, the only vegetables left in the garden. It too was added to muddle.

Even with the added ingredients, it was way too salty! With nothing left to add, I tossed the stuffing into the refrigerator, and hoped for the best the next day.

The morning began with my making a pumpkin pie. I’d purchased a pie pumpkin weeks earlier, which I cut in half, and tossed in the oven to bake while I made the crust. Pie pumpkins have great seeds, which I washed, and Rich later roasted with salt and pepper.

Next, I made the cranberry sauce, prepped the yam dish (oranges and maple syrup), boiled some deceased carrots, and mashed with butter, eggnog, and sea salt (no one was the wiser), and sliced white potatoes to boil for mashed potatoes. Finally, I prepped some brussels sprouts.

It was time to stuff the turkey…

Because only Rich, and I, and my mother were having Thanksgiving in Mount Vernon, Rich purchased a “hybrid” turkey, which when we opened was missing its legs, wings, and tummy. We examined it for a few minutes, and then concurred we could plop a couple of handfuls of stuffing under the breast plate, and then stretch the skin to cover it up. There was also another small cavity, at the back, for securing stuffing.

The remaining boat-load of stuffing, I put in a large casserole pan.

The result? The stuffing was perfectly seasoned. I knew the turkey would absorb most of the excess salt, but was surprised the stuffing in the casserole was okay.

After cleaning up, and freezing most of the dinner for my mother to eat in the coming weeks, we drove back to Kirkland, packed, and got the cats, birds, and house in order for our trip.

Bullhead City

Friday morning, the alarm went off at 3:15 a.m. After a quick shower, we pulled on our clothes, grabbed our bags, counted the cats — to make sure none were locked in a room — and headed to the airport. We had a smooth flight, landing in Las Vegas, getting a rental car, and heading to Bullhead City, Arizona by 10 a.m.

Before visiting Ted, we stopped at a park that borders the Colorado River on the Nevada side. We took a brisk walk because the wind was gusting. We then chatted with a Canadian couple who are traveling around the United States. They were delighted with Bullhead City, which truly is splendid during the winter months.

It occurred to me why so many Canadians find America intriguing. Canada doesn’t have the vast variety of landscapes from snow-capped mountains to warm sandy beaches, vast deserts, swamps, plains, and dramatic places-of-interest like the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Mount Rushmore, Niagara Falls, Florida Keys, and Monumental Valley. And nothing matches the places to visit in American cities from Hollywood to Manhattan to Memphis, Houston, Chicago, Las Vegas, Atlanta City, Miami Beach, and points-in-between.

After visiting with Ted for several hours, we followed him across the street to his “special” friend Sue who had spent the day cooking a Thanksgiving meal. Sue takes care of Charlie who is turning 94. In spite of Charlie’s age, hearing loss, and near blindness, he enjoys interacting with people.

Bullhead City, AZ

Bullhead City and Laughlin

After stuffing our tummies, and discussing at length Rich’s beard – to shave or not to shave – we returned to Ted’s house to chat for a while before going to bed.

The next morning, Rich and I got up earlier and returned to the park along the Colorado River. We planned to take a longer walk to the Davis Dam, and dressed according to combat the wind. We had a pleasant, but windy walk, snapping pictures, and stopping to read the sign along the walkway.

Rich then decided we should take an alternate route back to our car. However, instead of taking the marked trail, we climbed to a viewpoint, and then trail blazed across a mesa. Happily, Rich decided to head back down at the precise time we lined up with a sandy trail that headed down the mesa.

We kinda’ took a step, and skid for a foot or until the sand stopped our descent, and then took another step. The only problem was we were both wearing Keen sandals, which quickly filled with sand and tiny sharp rocks. Ouch!

Later, when we viewed the mesa from a distance, we realized we took the ONLY sandy trail down the mesa. The alternative was brush- and rock-covered. Sometimes miracle happen.

We spent the rest of the day looking at picture albums and chatting with Ted until mid-afternoon when we went across to Laughlin, Nevada, and had lunch in one of the casinos at Bubba Gump. Afterwards, I immediately lost a $1 in one of the slot machines. Sue, on the other hand, put $2 into a machine, played 30 numbers at once, and instantly got multiple free plays. When the machine stopped chiming, she won $27!

Sue was nonchalant about winnings; whereas, Rich and I were jumping up-and-down with excitement!

Sunday morning, we had a late breakfast/early lunch at Denny’s with Ted, and then hit the road.

Last Stop: Las Vegas

We’ve been to Las Vegas many times, and were going to skip going during this trip, but I wanted to see the downtown area and the Fremont Street Experience. Months ago, I made reservations to stay at the Golden Nugget, which received high marks.

We we’re disappointed from the automated check-in to our spacious, elegantly appointed room, complete with robes. Plus, the room cost just $53!

I was pleased with the Golden Nugget as soon as we walked in the door. The holiday ornaments and decorations were fabulous with polar bears, white reindeer, elves, a white-bearded Santa, and beautiful ornaments, ribbons, and other flourishes.

In the center of the hotel’s two towers is a large pool deck with a 200,000 gallon aquarium in the center. In the aquarium are several varieties of sharks – sandtiger, brown, nurse, blacktip reef, and zebra – along with large fish like horse-eye and crevalie jack, redfish, blue runner, Queensland and black grouper, golden trevally, cobia, and stingrays.

The best part of the aquarium is the two-story water slide. It took no time for me to convince Rich that we needed to change into our bathing suit, jump into the

View Golden Nugget

Golden Nugget, las vegas

pool, and work up the nerve to go down the slide… even though it was breeze and cool outside.

My first decent down the slide was a little scary as I didn’t know what to expect. The next 5 or 6 were a blast! The slide takes several turns before thrusting you through the sharp tank, and then disposing you in a shallow pool.

My supply of adrenaline used us, we spent a few minutes in the hot tub, and then dashed back to your room for a quick shower and night-on-the-town.

Our first stop was the newly opened Downtown Container Park, which is amazing, fabulous, and fun! It’s made out of metal cubes, along with refurbished shipping containers that could have previously be used on cargo ships or placed on trucks for shipping good. The containers are stacked one-on-top of each other to form shops, stairways, sitting areas, restaurants, art galleries, and common areas.

The park is designed to be a business incubator, allowing entrepreneurs to start small in a 250 space foot space, the inside of a shipping container.

There is also a large stage with Astroturf in front, and a boxcar and caboose in the back, the later containing a barber shop called Bolt Barbers.

In the center of the park is a playground and interactive zone with a 30-foot-tall tree house, three different slides, and an electronic game, where children engage by raced around, hitting flashing lights.

It was dusk when we arrived at the park. At the entrance was performers engaging children and adults in a drum circle. Behind the performers was a 40-foot praying mantis sculpture mounted on a truck. As the last bit of sun faded, and the drumming grew louder, the mantis spewed fire from its antennae. It’s very dramatic, and something we hadn’t expected to see.

The park was developed by the Downtown Project, a community revitalization group funded by Zappos.com CEO Tony Hsieh. The site used to be home to a Motel 6. It’s now an amusing place to spend a few hours, wandering through 41 metal cubes and 30 repurposed shipping container. Learn more about the park and vision for the area.

Hungry, our next destination was to find a place to eat. We passed by the Heart Attack Grill, which touts “Taste… Worth Dying For.” The waitresses are dressed as nurses who take prescriptions and customers are considered patients. A tag is wrapped on patients’ wrists showing which foods they ordered, and a “doctor” examines the patients’ health with a stethoscope.

Their menu consists of insanely large hamburgers, including an Octuple Bypass Burger with 8 beef patties, 40 slices of bacon (5 per patty), American cheese, red onion, sliced tomato, and Heart Attack Grill’s unique special sauce. You can also ordered Flatliner fries (cooked in pure lard), and range of beverages, including Mexican-bottled Coca-Cola and “Butter-fat Shakes.”

If you manage to finish a Triple or Quadruple Bypass Burger, a nurse will wheel you out to your vehicle. Not sure where they wheel you if you eat at the Heart Attack Grill on Fremont Street since I didn’t see a parking lot nearby.

We opted for a slightly lower form of gluttony, a buffet at a casino!

I’ve never eaten at a buffet and NOT regretted it later. This trip was no exception. I take a few bites of each of my favorite foods, but put together is was WAY TOO MUCH to eat from blue cheese dressing poured over the yummies at the salad bar to French onion soup, macaroni and cheese, baked salmon, sushi, seafood salad, and cooked vegetables, which I dipped in melted cheese (intended for pouring over tortilla chips). And because we got to the buffet before the crowds, there was a huge selection of desserts, which Rich and I shared.

View Container Park and Las Vegas

Container Park and Las Vegas

Oh, you don’t want to know how many slices of different types of cakes and pastries (i.e. napoleon, cannoncini, etc.) we ate.

Our bellies stuffed to capacity, we hit the streets, walking through casinos, looking at signs and buildings from the 50’s, many of which have since fallen into disrepair. There were also signs of hope with the gentrification of several blocks, and developers breathing new life into the original casinos and hotels.

The longest continuously-running casino in Las Vegas, the El Cortez Hotel and Casino feels like a step-back in time with 40’s interior design of dark wood, leather-covered chairs, patterned wallpaper, and low ceilings with amber lights.

Opened in 1941, and purchased by Bugsy Siegel and Meyer Lansky in 1963, the El Cortez has expanded, but the original two-story, Spanish-style buildings remain. The Flame Steakhouse, at the El Cortez, serves food that’s reminiscent of the “Rat Pack,” such as jumbo shrimp cocktails, oysters Rockefeller, and oysters on the half shell for appetizers, french onion soup, iceberg wedge, and traditional Caesar as starters, and pork chop, filet mignon, surf & turf, steak diane, and prime rib of beef as main courses.

The Downtown Grand Casino and Hotel, which was formerly the Lady Luck, has a steampunk feel with exposed brick walls, spectacular chandeliers, and giant gears and other mechanics displayed as art. It’s steps from the Mob Museum, the National Museum of Organized Crime and Law Enforcement, which is located in the former federal courthouse where in 1950 the Kefauver Hearings on Organized Crime were held to expose and control organized crime.

The museum is probably fascinating, but at $20 per ticket, we opted for continue walking through downtown Las Vegas. Plus, it was a beautiful night.

We then came across a large, dramatic office complex, which we later learned is the headquarters for Zappos, online shoe source extraordinaire. Formerly located in Henderson, Nevada, a short drive from Las Vegas, Zappos remodeled the Las Vegas City Hall site, and moved their relocated its 1,200 employees to the new complex in 2013.

The move is designed to boost the local economy and help revitalize the downtown area to the tune of $336.6 million, with the city collecting approximately $395,900 annually in additional property taxes. With up to 2,000 employees at Zappos, there’s an increased need for restaurants, retail stores, health care providers, apartments and condominiums, and other services, which is great news for downtown merchants, hanging on until the economy improves.

The next morning, we drove around and were astonished to see so many new high-rise buildings in the area, and positive signs that downtown Las Vegas will return to its previous appeal before the “strip” became the main attraction and magnet for development funds.

We caught only the tail-end of a Fremont Street Experience. What we saw wasn’t overly impressive, and didn’t overcome the despair on the street. There are many beggars, shysters, and low-life who take up residence on Fremont Street as the night wears on.

It’s a safe area because of the many police, but one won’t want to wander too far from the neon lights. Many of the shops are seedy, and casinos lure in customers with scanty- or bikini-clad female dealers and bartenders, who alternate between working the tables, serving drinks, and dancing on top of bars or raised platforms.

Lining Fremont Street are sidewalk bars, where you can get a tall plastic “vase,” filled with frozen concoctions, spinning in slushy machines. Choose from margaritas, daiquiris, mud slides, mojito, pina colada, and much more.

Around 10 o’clock, we tried of the hubbub, and returned to the Golden Nugget to watch the sharks swim, and sit by the fire pit in the pool area.

The next morning, we woke to loud noises at 6 a.m. Our room was over the conference center and they were replacing some ducts. Rich called the front desk to complain. To make up for the unexpected early-morning wake-up call, we got to go through their breakfast buffet for free. While Rich enjoyed the food, I was nauseated from the buffet gluttony the night before. Nevertheless, I enjoyed a few bites of a tasty omelet and some fruit.

We walked around for a while, then returned to our room so I could dial into a conference call for work. Afterwards, we found parking on the strip, grabbed the camera, and snapped pictures of our favorite building. I keep wanting to see Vegas not for the gambling, food or entertainment, but the buildings. I don’t think I could ever tire of seeing the variety of architecture and interior design.

During the day, you can see the detail on the Paris, Caesars Palace, Bellagio, Monte Carlo, Venetian, and the many other ornate, themed casinos. And ARIA, Vdara, and the other magnificent buildings in the same area.

Dinner was at Jack-in-the-Box before an uneventful flight back to Seattle, and two Thanksgivings spent in three states: Washington, Arizona, and Nevada.

This Year’s Cookie Extravaganza!

08 Sunday Dec 2013

Posted by rajalary in Food and drink

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

cookie baking, Julie Lary, rajalary, Rich Lary

Every year, we make cookies and candies to give away. We start in late October, purchasing the ingredients, and determining what we’re going to make. And then in early November, we start baking, boiling, and packaging!

This year’s batch included:

Top RowCookies

  • Rocky road fudge
  • Seven-layer bars
  • Chocolate cookies with peanut butter chips
  • Oatmeal with butterscotch chips
  • Exotic spice
  • Cappuccino thins
  • Two types of biscotti: Traditional with almonds, and dried mango

Second Row

  • Fudge with cashews
  • Toffee
  • Peanut brittle
  • Chocolate chip made with cinnamon chips
  • Salt-and-pepper cookies with toasted pine nuts
  • Snicker doodle
  • Ginger coins
  • Candied orange peels
  • Candied grapefruit peels

Third row

  • Macaroon (coconut)
  • Mexican wedding cakes
  • Fudge with dried cherries
  • Marshmallows (so easy to make!)
  • Pralines
  • Rum balls
  • Coffee caramels
  • Truffles
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