I consider myself to be a very well-informed woman when it comes to sports. I come by it honestly as my dad was a gifted and avid coach of almost every sport to be found in the average junior high or high school.
Football, basketball, volleyball, and track were what I cut my little girl teeth on and I enjoyed every minute as I watched those poor boys and girls running, sweating, fuming, passing, catching, and shooting their way through season after season of my father’s version of torture
practice.
Until he became my coach my freshman year in high school. That year I learned what it meant to "buffet my body" and "bring it into submission". None of us were sure we were going to make it to a lovely, old age. We were all going to die. We were sure of it.
Somehow, we didn’t. If anything, we came out sporting more muscle and less fat; more skill, less awkwardness; more confidence, less timidity. It suddenly all made sense.
There is, however, one sport I have never understood: golf.
For all you golfers out there, I apologize. I will admit it looks great and fun and all that. But I just don’t get it. Probably because I end up mowing the grass all around the itsy-bitsy, teeny-tiny ball and when I finish, it’s still there, not having budged an inch, staring up at me mocking my inability to get it airborne.
One thing I can say for golf, is that it is very, very civilized. And very, very, very quiet. In fact, until Saturday, I thought it was the most civilized sport ever. Even more than badminton and croquet. Even more than synchronized swimming. Even more than the National Spelling Bee.
Nope, it ain’t.
Polo, in fact, is the new winner.
I have never been to a polo match. Ever. It was fabulous. I am not kidding.
Every Sunday as we are driving to church, we pass a polo club out here in the middle of corn country. It sticks out amongst the unpretentious farm homes and fields that surround it, and we have been curious for quite awhile as to what it would be like to see polo being played up close.
There was a match on Saturday so we called and asked if we could come. They were very welcoming, so in the afternoon we packed a light lunch, our chairs, some umbrellas, and my camera and set out on a polo adventure.
Being the particularly fastidious engineer-type that he is, my lovely husband printed off all 54 pages of polo rules, instructions, tidbits, and sundry details pertaining to this British import.
I read the first two pages and then figured I’d figure it out as it went along.
This is what I learned from those two pages:
- There are eight players, total, on the field of play at one time. Four on each team.
- Each player has a particular ranking of skill ranging from -2 to 10.
- There are only a handful of players in the U.S. who rank at least at a 6.
- There are handicaps in polo. Each team’s compilation of ranking scores are compared with the opposing team and the difference between the two is reflected at the beginning of the game on the score board. *Example: If Team #1 has a total skill ranking score of 4 and Team #2 has a total ranking of 8, the game begins with a score of 4-0 in favor of the lower-ranking team. I TOLD you it was civilized.
- The game is played in chukkers. No, that is not the name of the funny, white pants they wear. A chukker is a timed period of play.
- There are exactly six chukkers in a polo match. Each chukker is seven minutes long.
- These guys have to have several horses at their disposal as the horses tire swiftly with the heat and speed and must be changed out or rested after each chukker.
- The period between chukkers is three minutes and the half-time is five minutes.
I could probably tell you more, but I quit reading the 54 pages right about here.
I am amazed that I actually found myself getting into it, picking a team, and going a little bonkers when they missed the goal. Thankfully, we were practically the only people there, so we could look ignorant and a little silly and no one was the wiser.
I know it doesn’t matter, but my team won. Yup, they did. I sure know how to pick ‘em.
At the end, I was tempted to turn to the lady next to me and say, "Simply smashing match, don’t you think?" in my best British accent, but resisted the urge for no other reason that it seems things always turn out better when I do. Resist the urge, that is.
So, for those of you who are the curious type you can go to this site to read up on the whole very civilized thing. You might just get hooked.
If you do get hooked you can find a polo club near you here.
As for myself I am going to make sure I get out to see the next match in August and I may even wear a humongous hat and bring high tea in a wicker basket. Crumpets, I think, should do very nicely.
Ah, yes. We shall see, shan’t we?
Posted in slow lane stuff to try | 3 Comments »
What do you get when you have two tomato plant stakes, a roll of packaging tape, a baby’s receiving blanket and an old log?
A fine ocean sailing vessel, of course. Didn’t you know?
My son kept coming back inside requesting one item at a time. I had no idea what he was up to until they came inside to rest and I went outside to check on our lovely Wrigley. And this is what I saw.
Love it. Don’t you?
Posted in everyday | 1 Comment »
We aquired a very groovy new/old tricycle. It was free as all good things are and I love the vintage blue with the white lightening type design on the wheel guard. Doesn’t it look a bit like the tricycle my dad is riding in my blog banner photo? Love, love, love it.
When my friend told me she had an "old" tricycle and would we be interested in taking it, I said "sure!" as we have many nieces and nephews all around the same age. We always could use another miniature mode of transportation. I_had_no_idea it would be so very cool.
And, big news, Sunday evening I went on my first ever evening photo shoot jaunt into the countryside. I started shooting at 9 p.m. and finished shooting at 10. It was remarkably fun even though I forgot to use mosquito stuff and my legs now look like I have the pox.
Just a couple of results from my bug-infested-but-totally-fun night shooting a sunset.
So, there you have it.
Just a tip: When shooting a sunset with these types of colors, if you can, set your camera to the vivid setting. It super-saturates the color and it captures more truly the impression of what you are seeing with the naked eye.
Posted in everyday | 2 Comments »
In the spirit of slow living, I am posting a repeat. It’s actually a repeat of a post I wrote for the blog I had over on another account. When I switched accounts, I left it behind and I kinda miss it.
I posted it without pictures and that was a bummer. So this very day I made sure to make some photographs of my favorite pastime and re-post the original piece just as a plug for doin’ somethin’ fun.
So here it is:
Originally posted on May 28th, 2008 by me over at my old blogsite.
“Let’s go fly a
kite. Up to the highest height. Let’s go fly a kite and send it
soaring. Up to the atmosphere, up where the air is clear, oh! Let’s
goooo….fly a kite!”
Ah, yes. The infamously catchy song at the end of the film version
of Mary Poppins. Once you begin humming it, you won’t be able to
stop. I want you to know it was with a heart of great sacrifice that I
was willing to even go there. I won’t get a wink of sleep tonight.
Having said that, however, I must simply must put forth the reality
of the intoxicating nature of a kite. I have, in fact, always thought
so and have been apparently mistaken in my understanding that everyone
feels just this way.
I grew up in Wyoming. That is enough explanation for anyone who has
been there or has even passed through certain parts of that state.
They should put up signs that read:
Beware: Winds So Strong They Will Flatten Your Ears,
Compress your Eyeballs, And Remove All Visible Hair (Or at least tangle
it until you look like Helena Bonham Carter)
It was natural that we should, as adventurous children, take to
kite-flying. The wind was there in abundance and in that pristine
high-plains desert, with the sky such a deep blue it defied
comprehension, the thrill of feeling that sharp tug and the
heart-pounding feel of the power of the skies was enough to make my
knees go weak.
The kite became an extension of my arm and it was addicting, that
sharp uptake, the gentle tugging to locate the updrafts and then,
whooosh. All I had to do was keep releasing it to it’s destiny up
there in the freedom of the blueness, and then I would test it. Is it
firmly up there? Is the weight right? Do I need more tail ties? Most
of the time it was perfection and I would crouch and then lay down in
the oh-so-soft Kentucky blue grass, all the string out, and just watch
the distant dot weave and dodge.
Ever so often, the wind would be too much and the string would go
slack after a sharp but gentle snap. The kite would rise, free, caught
up in something much bigger than itself. I never really felt sad when
that happened. I did, after all, know how to build my own kites, so I
would go and make another one and feel satisfied that there were little
pieces of my kite genius out there with the rattlesnakes, toads, and
sage bushes.
Things have changed. I am now married with three littles of my own. I live
in the Midwest. What they consider wind out here is laughable. But I
am kind and humor them, these Heartland people.
I hadn’t gone kite-flying in years. And then my love goes and gets
two. Two kites. I could hardly contain my excitement and jumble of
nerves. We put them together and tried to put them up. It was
supposedly windy on Memorial Day. Not in my estimation, but I went
along so as not to be a spoilsport.
I was feeling sorely disappointed in the lackluster performance of
my kite, when my love and our eldest son launched theirs and it went up
and up and up, and stayed up. All the string was out. And then I
looked over and felt tears spring to my eyes. There he was my 7 yr.
old lying in the grass, casually holding the handle of the kite,
showing off a bit I imagine. How, I wondered, do children know to do
that? It must be, I decided, part of that “kite-knowingness”. Laying
in the grass is just how it’s supposed to be.
My little Miss and I kept working on getting ours into flight as
Little Bear repeatedly asked for milk. I’m afraid he wasn’t
understanding the true import of the event.
Boy, ours simply gave us fits. We tried everything. We adjusted
the tension, the tail weight, and the angle against the wind. Glad to
say, right as a bit of rain began to fall we experienced take-off.
Such a sense of satisfaction we had as we trudged home, our arms sore
and our eyes squinty from staring into the sky.
So, I say with some boldness, take your Wii and your iPods and your high-tech entertainment, World.
I’m stickin’ with my kite any day.
*Note: If you want to make your own kite…
I found a good tutorial here and a neat excerpt from the American Boys Handy Book. Click on the links at the bottom of that page. There are all kinds of neat-o ideas for creating your own flying experience.
And I so desperately wish I had photos for you, but our camera is
causing me fits and it was virtually impossible to shoot good
pictures. There were so many memorable moments for us that all I can
say is to seize the day and a good kite and relish a grand wrestle
with the wind.~
**I encourage you to head over to Rocks In My Dryer for more great tips and ideas.
Posted in slow lane stuff to try | 2 Comments »
The madness continues. I am sitting here wishing I had a billion fabulous ideas for these Works For Me Wednesdays, but I’m stuck. I have no idea what to share.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I have NO ideas, it’s just that I’m short on GREAT ideas. I know all the tips that other people know like:
- How to get bubble gum out of someone’s hair
- How to get the grill grate totally clean in no time
- How to efficiently clean a kitchen in under 15 min.
- What items to keep on hand to do quick bathroom cleanups
- How to make a simple, totally great homemade ice cream
- etc.
So, this week I am going to pick one of the above and expound, hoping everyone reading it isn’t bored out of their mind(s).
So here goes. In the spirit of missing last week’s WFMW and because it’s just such a great recipe (I altered it so it’s easy to remember and it turned out just fine) I am sharing my homemade ice cream recipe. It’s easy (as long as you have an ice cream maker of some sort) and it tastes good. Besides the fact that it’s gluten-free. If you have a gluten problem like I do, you may like knowing what goes into your food.
Here is what to remember: 2-2-2-1-1
Here’s how it goes:
2 eggs
2 C. heavy whipping cream
2 C. milk
1 C. sugar
**1 t. pure, real vanilla
Ta-da!
*Just combine the first four ingredients in a heavy-bottom saucepan over low-medium heat (stir, stir, stir…we don’t want it to scorch!) until it thickens enough to coat a metal spoon. Then, remove it from the burner and cool it swiftly (I always transfer it to a clean bowl and stick it in the freezer and set the timer for 20 min. reaching in to stir it every so often)
Pour it all into the cylinder of your ice cream maker, add the vanilla and you are set to go!
Serves 12 very little people OR 3 grown brothers OR 6 level-headed women.
If you try this recipe be sure to come back here and share a review…I would love to hear from you!
**Note on vanilla extract. It was believed once that vanilla extract had to be specifically labeled gluten free to be safe, but it has since been debunked. I say go for the good stuff anyway. You can read more about it here.
Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments »
I know. I’m a goober. I’m always numbering things. I only made it to my second Works For Me Wednesday before my computer crashed and I missed the third (which is very, very distressing to me as I had a simply great recipe for this week’s post).
I should be grateful the computer tech was able to salvage the documents in my hard drive. I seriously wanted to kiss that man but it wouldn’t have been appropriate and so I kissed my hubby instead.
Back on subject:
However, and I do mean however, katymom is havin’ a carnival over at her blog. It’s called Friday Favorites, doncha know? I think in the past she’s just done it herself and all, but she’s letting us all in on it! She even has a Mr. Linky doodad now. So, so cool.
So, to get to the point, I will share my earh-shattering Favorite Friday tip.
Here goes:
A Bella Baby Car Seat Cover.
I can’t tell you how fabulous these are. I didn’t want to buy a whole new carseat because functionally it was totally ok. But it so badly needed an update and a cleaning. So I cleaned it and it still looked bad. Now I can just pull off the slipcover, wash it, and put it back on. So great. Highly recommend it.
Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments »
