With no real winter in the desert, our house never feels cozy. It always feels like a beach house. I miss having rugs in the house, especially traditional rugs such as Tibetan rugs or Persian rugs. I have to resort to IKEA rugs that are bright in color and light in material.

Look at this pretty rug:

hand knotted Tibetan rug


Up Against the Wall

this old lady didn’t turn her back to the world hoping that the man behind her shoulders would notice her and then maybe approach her and make her feel better. this old lady was having her morning espresso (probably doppio senza zucchero) and she chose to have it with her face turned to this ‘carlo’ wall.

Carlo Lives On

the old lady and carlo

Away – Bibs and Bottles

I have been forcibly away from my blog due to harsh conditions at work, but I’m back!

My friend P. and I are planning a baby shower for our friend R. who is expecting a girl in two months. I would love it if any of you had baby shower games or decoration ideas or gift ideas to share with us. It is my first baby shower experience. Ihe Internet is of great help, but I want tips from people who have actually had success planning and executing a baby shower.

Any ideas anyone?

Poem Written in 1998

The Solitary Worshipper

Probably twice I gazed at the dry clouds
At the greenest valleys and the river that surrounds
The robins sing their tunes with a melodious twist
The owls watch with a gray and hollow mist

Round their heads, the flowers sway with the breeze
As the gentlemen to the women say ‘would you please?’
The women with an ample nod of their heads say
‘Of course would you lead the way?’

The men’s chests swell with pride and so
The women’s hands they clasp, no intention of letting go
Now the robins have stopped and the band starts
For the dancers to whirl and swirl and capture hearts.

Then I turn my head to the river on the right
And a mob of bantam creatures catches my sight
They are reeling, are they dancing I wonder
They are scattered harmoniously here and yonder

They seem twirling around hand in hand
Enjoying the soft music of the humanistic band
It is a majestic portrait, endless beauty, and no harm
With the help of nature and its eternal charm,

I try to close my eyes but they are not responding to my will
My body might be moving but my heart is standing still
At the glory before my eyes and the perfection of it all
For not just ants are fluctuating but the trees standing tall,

The august hills and the royal flowers upon the scope
The dazzling tulips and lilies full of hope
The robins join in with the splendor of the melody
The owls are rushing forward, Good God could it be?

It not just looks and sounds like a dream
It feels and overwhelms like a dream
A daydream you adore but fear
You fear for it can’t be touched but yet is so near.

The sun is setting down and the horizon is mellow
A blend of the fiery red and the jovial yellow
The music is fading away whisper by whisper
The creatures are withdrawing and seem a little crisper

The hills and trees retiring to deep slumber
The resplendent flowers relax upon lumber
The night is falling now and the stars’ presence
To the sky grant the same effervescence

The clouds have faded and left the sky see-through
The men have stopped and are looking for something to do
The women are laughing and leaning with glee
Enjoying the most jocund of company

They flutter their eyelashes and at the men they wink
Which was more than enough to get them to think
Of the perfect place for them to seal the festive day
And spend their times so uniquely and so gay

They pack and leave the luscious fields deserted
Only the chills of the winds and the hooting of the owls to be traced
My bones squeak and my mind reels at its own speed
With all the masterpieces I have witnessed and the replay I need

Of my city’s perfect nature and the grandeur of man
And the harmony that existed, I being its faithful fan,
Its best admirer and worshipper in this life span.