Red Peppers and Old Faithful

Sunday Aug 12 8:19 AM

I woke up this morning feeling like I had eaten a Deadly Red Pepper. At least I hope it was a DRP and not, say, the local water supply or some kind of 24 hour bug. Insert some sort of geriatric digestive aid and Old Faithful joke here.

I spend a lot of time in the men's room, which has intricate tiling on the floors (hexagons and squares), marble sink counters, and tilted oval mirrors over the sinks.

The Beehive Geyser going off at 5:30 AM woke Mark up, so he went out to look at stars and, as it turn out, bison. At least, I think it was 5:30. He said that that moon was up, so it can't have been any earlier than about 4AM. Mark also saw Castle geyser go off; he said the eruption lasted about a half hour.

As much as I like the aesthetic of our room's door, it requires two free hands to enter or exit our room. This can be difficult when one is encumbered with something like, say, a soothing cup of tea. Actually, now that I look more closely, the bar connected to the pull doesn't serve any purpose, so it is possible to unlock the door and push it open. Exiting the room does require two hands, as the automatic closer puts a lot of force on the door.

---

I managed to take a few pictures of Old Faithful with the rising sun veiled by its vapors. Then everyone left for the lake--I opted to stay in an area with readily accessible restrooms. A few hours later I felt like I could risk a short walk.

Watching geysers is an exercise in waiting. What strikes me is how many folks grumble that the geyser has not gone off yet. I imagine living or working here would give one a rhythm of how the geysers spout. I'm waiting near the Grand Geyser. In a surprise eruption, the Triplet Geyer nearby has started to erupt, shooting out three foot high bursts of water.

Grand Geyser has started to push water out of its mini cauldara. The displaced overflow ripples away from the spout and oozes down hill. Turban geyser, part of the system, is bubbling and its overflow is feeding the waters of Grand. Suddenly, Grand shoots water high into the air and I realize that what I thought was Grand is actually Turban and there's a rotten egg smell in the air as mist reaches toward the sun.

Sunday in the Park with Geysers

Sunday Aug 12 Early Afternoon

I reviewed the videos I shot of the geysers and delete a few. I take a few still photos with my camera of the radiator and of the basin. I'm feeling a little better and decide to risk a little bit of chocolate ice cream fro the snack bar.

Then I take a nap, which is an accomplishment given how much noise there is seeping around our windows. Busses pull up with hissing air breaks; garbage trucks beeep-beeep-beeep over the clank of metal trash bins being hoisted and banged about; someone's small dogs are yapping; and it must be just past lunch time because several infants have loud melt-downs. Beneath the punctuations of sound is the ocean-like murmur of hundreds of conversations.

When I wake up, the feeling that I've eaten a Deadly Red Pepper has returned. Bother. Now the question becomes, what exactly is causing the frequent runs to the men's room?

---

I went for a walk to see River Geser blow and on he way back, I walked by Sawmill Geyser. It was thruming and sending spouts of water up into the air. Then it stopped. I thought it was a pause, but then the water swirled around the rim of Sawmill's cauldera, and drained down the central pipe of stone. Thin vapour poured up the pipe, but otherwise, the geyser was dry.

It was like the withdrawal of some churning spirit.

Later, walking back to the lodge, some ravens played in a parking lot. I thought I'd try to photograph one. As I was doing so, a woman came up and started talking at them, accusing them of finding and eating garbage. Which she began to pick up. Which made me feel a little like a stupid tourist, so I helped her pick up the wrappers, paper bits, and shiney foil I'd failed to see.

11:19 PM

As we lay in bed trying to fall asleep, some Very Loud Brits began a Lightly Drunken Conversation on the benches two stories below our window. These were not Masterpiece Theatre Subjects of Victoria, nor were they incarnations of Mr. Darcey.

Saturday Yellowstone Adventures

Saturday Aug 11 -- Mid Afternoon

After a five hour drive from Twin Falls, Idaho, and various stops, we pulled into the Old Faithful Inn. I'm trying to remember our visit ten years ago, and the edges of the memories are fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure there weren't quite so many people. I guess August is the High Season.

Old Faithful Inn, constructed in 1903, is built mostly of burled lodge-pole pine and some stone. Rough-hewn posts rise up about six stories to create a inside forest effect. The posts and beams look a bit like giants holding up a settler-style Circe du Soliel jungle gym. Even with windows on the east and west ends of the building, the interior is dark. A huge stone fireplace in the south end of the lobby rises up about seven stories.

There's lots of American Arts and Crafts style furniture decked around the lobby and observation decks encircling the fireplace. The most enchanting--for me, anyway--are the wood writing desks. An oblong Tiffany-style lamp is incorporated into the desk's organizer, which has four upright slots to hold postcards and writing supplies. The lamp's glass looks like malachite. The desktop is a god hight, with plenty of leg room.

Most folks are only allowed on the first third floors. The higher ones were damaged four decades ago by an earthquake, and the general public isn't allowed up there. Occasionally we notice folks looking out over the park from the Inn's "widow porch" on top; they must work here.

You can tell the architecture-type tourist because they always take pictures of the support beams. I think the best time to take a picture would be between midnight and 4AM, when the place is silent and empty.

Our room in the Inn is on the third floor. The walls are paneled in wood. The radiator looks old, but it's not rusty and there's a raised arabesque design on the cells. Bare bulbs on top of white columns remind me of candles. We share a very nicely tiled marbled bathroom with the rest of the hall, but there's a copper plated stand with a ceramic wash basin sink in the room. Rough triangle-headed nails are at the corners of the simple wooden frame of the mirror.

---

The Perseid Meteor Shower happens this time of year. I think the best one I saw was when I was near the Old Faithful bleachers, away from the lights of the Inn. Even with the lights from the lodge, the Milky Way was much more prominent than I've seen it in quite a while. The meteor shot out from the area between Perseus and Cassiopeia, mostly white with maybe a little bit of green, and a thick tail of sparks. Later I thought I heard one whooshing overhead, but the noises of the other guests on the verandah made it difficult to tell.

---

As I was reading on the bed, the world's largest and friendliest looking mouse waddled out from underneath the radiator and stared and stared at me. I just stared right back.

Platonic Solids

I've been fiddling with this arrangement off and on all week.  I think I'm ready to abandon the composition and do other things.

Dodecaheadrons

I recently read a tutorial on how to easily and quickly create dodecahedrons in Blender.












It turns out to be fairly simple.  From there it's a quick hop, step and a leap to Archimedean Solids.












I wanted to add stars, so I fired up my star-making script and dropped them into a hollowed out dodecahedron.












I was surprised when added some light sources to the rendering to create a shadow pattern similar to zilig designs.

1880's American Centaur

I'm working on a short story with Centaur cowgirls (still).  Or, if not a Centaur cowgirl, a Centauride in a Buffalo Bill-like traveling show   (Must. Not. Quote. Cher. Song.) in Arizona around 1880.


Although people back then were Americans, they were Victorian Americans, which means that I have to think about things like, "What would a respectable Centauride on the American Western Frontier wear?"   Probably a busty Centaur Cowgirl wearing a loose blouse or only a vest riding into town would probably cause a stir.

I think the trick is figuring out what would preserve a Centaur's modesty without being too hot to wear.  I'm thinking a light cotton cover with a lot of lace or fringe.....

Luckily, there's an exhibition of cowgirl portraits in town; it features some biographical materials which have been helpful.  I'm hopeful that it will help me to avoid silly Western mistakes. 

Dual Dodecahedrons

Yes, it's true.  I've been playing with dodecahedrons instead of wrting.

On The Hawaiian Chieftain

Over the weekend we took a battle cruise on the Hawaiian Chieftain a historically-based sail ship circa 1850.  We were supposed to battle the Lady Washington, but between the winds and an incoming spring tide, Lady Washington got stuck on the dock.

We were really glad we'd gotten onto Hawaiian Chieftain instead.

We rode under the Newport, Oregon, bridge, and out onto the Pacific Ocean (about as far as the buoys with their bells).  The swells were about six feet, which made being in the bow of the ship a little rocky and damp.

Then we returned into Newport Bay and fired cannon at various objects.  Probably the most interesting thing I learned was that cannon fire echos off of sails, boat sides, and piers.   You can tell if you've broadsided a ship by the echo off of her sails.  You can tell if you've hit a jetty wall just right because of the zipper-like sound of the echo bouncing off of all the receding piers.

It wasn't the sunniest day, and at the east end of the bay, the wind picked up.  But that didn't stop the first mate from bringing out his guitar and the cook his accordion.  I didn't catch all the words to their songs (something about picks and the Devil).

I was glad that the diesel fumes were high above the ship, so I was only a little queasy. By the time we got back on shore, we were all starving, so we got (what else) sea food.

Battle Cruise Photos

 Arg!  We're back from a battle cruise.  We fired cannon.






 At a pure science vessle (because knowledge is the greatest treasure!)

Flying Home

Saturday

We woke up and managed to leave the condo at 5:30.

Although at one point I wondered if we would find the rental car return as we were stuck behind someone who was obviously lost -- they more-or-less parked their car in the middle of a lane and got out to ask a kiosk attendant a question.

Security was uneventful, except for almost losing the green bag with Disney Treasures in it (thank you fellow traveler for pointing out that I'd left it behind).

---

The sun is about to rise. It will seem weird to me how the sun will get an extra three hours in the sky today.

Here's how fill a 757 fill with nervous laughter: mention over the plane's PA system that there's a slight delay to the tarmac while we wait for maintenance to come and determine if the jet fuel found on the ground came from our plane's leaking engine or from some other plane. Be sure to start to say something awkward, then trail off before you conclude, "as soon as we're sure we're safe, we'll be on our way.". The wings are not on fire.

---

I'm kind of tired.

We worked it out; if we go by West Coast clocks, we got up this morning at 2AM to leave Orlando, Florida, and touched down at our house at 1:20 PM. Which meant that we were home in time for our daily naps. I had a nightmare, which I hope was caused by rich food. Now it's 9:30 PM, which feels like half-past midnight. If I have any more nightmares or work-related anxiety dreams, it's going to be hard to want to go to sleep.

However, re-reading (and editing out) the grammatical mistakes in this missive is revealing how tired I must be.

---

Early this afternoon, as I was walking about, a wave of pollen hit me. It's funny how one gets used to a runny nose and itchy eyes . And how quickly one forgets them until the pollen returns. Also, it's in the high sixties right now, whih feels very cold compared to th e mid eighties.

In between sneezes, I came to the conclusion that I like Disney World becaus it's really easy to be interactively friendly there. Yes, it's artificial; yes, it's like Christmas; yes, it's a vacation--and we're privileged to be able to spend money on a lavish stay. But still, there's something to be said for reassuring a girl in the swim with the sharks line by sharing that it was my first time snorkeling ever; or spontaneously helping someone figure out what attraction they were looking for was; or joining in with a merchant shaking a rattle to try to help her sell some drums; or smiling and waving at strangers and having them wave back; or

-- oh my Goddess: an army of people hasn't cleaned our house while we were gone!

Parks Revisited

Friday

I woke up after work anxiety dreams and discovered that I had sunburned more severly than I thought. Not so bad, but sore enough to make wearing a shoulderstrap uncomfortable.

We walked into The Animal Kingdom around 9:45.

This was the hottest day of our visit. Probably the funniest line from the tram attendant was, "as you exit watch your step and watch your head; and if you don't, watch your language."

We watched The Festival of the lion king. They do a pretty good job with the animatronic animals. I would say that "Be Prepared" is my favorite number because of the drums and the fire dancing. The fire dancer's presentation was impressive, mostly when he started flames dancing everywhere, including the stage. Purposefully. Which he stepped over. I did wonder, however, when he laid down on the stage in order to twirl flaming batons over himself A) if he meant to light his loincloth on purpose, B) just how large and hot the flame burning over his groin was going to get. Everyone was professional, because he kept on twirling that baton, and no one broke character. And then the flame died out.

After the Festival, we stood in lines to meet people in costumes forging signatures of fictional cartoon characters. Yes, it's sweet to see how happy children get hugging mice; I guess it falls into that sentimental area between belief and imagination. Still, I couldn't help but wonder if the woman playing Pochahantis got many awkward questions.

We went on the safari ride, which was even better the second time. The giraffes were much more close. Alas, just before they appeared, I discovered that I had filled up my camera card with pictures of children hugging people in cartoon character costumes.

---

Epcot

Our final visit was to Epcot. Just as we arrived the heavens opened up with a heavy shower. We managed to stay mostly under cover and then took the ride in the Bucky Sphere. Afterward, we went counter clockwise around the showcase of nations. I found myself rocking out to a four man band doing Beatles covers. It was kind of goofy, but they all had waist long hair which they whipped around in time to the music--as they stood before wind machines (I knew it! I knew it!  Long hair does require a wind machine!).

We half-watched the fireworks display outside of Italy, but after the first initial fireball, it was mostly a floating LED show on a giant globe.

Mark and I had another hour of time to ourselves, which was nice. I particularly enjoyed sitting with him on a bench at night looking over model of the Eiffel Tower reflecting off of the lake. We had just managed to get into the room with the Chinese terracotta warriors, which Mark found interesting.

We stole into the Moroccan hall of arts and lingered over the artifacts there. Mark especially liked the silver Burbur spiked bride's bracelets. And after much hunting, I showed him the way over the to jeweled snake bracelet. We discussed the tiles for sale there, and agreed that the tiles were interesting, but not quite what we were looking for.

And then it was time to go.

Return to Hollywood

Thursday Evening, May 17

After our mandatory afternoon nap, we went back Hollywood.  I wore my Malicifent lapel pin, and at least three Disney cast members wondered where I had got it.

Mark and I wandered through the shops looking at expensive Disney Schlock. I confess; I like the lapel pins, at least the smaller more tasteful ones. I purchased a pin of Snow White's Evil Stepmother holding up the heart box. Mark looked at mugs shaped like Mickey Mouse's hotpants, which we agreed was a weird object to drink from. I considered purchasing some of the Unbirthday Teas, but I refuse to drink a loose-leaf tea that has "orange flavorings" listed as an ingredient (if it were orange peel, I'd be fine).

In one store I had my Big Gay Fag moment--they were selling the cutest little top hats, similar to what the Mad Hatter wears, only with more ribbons. They were so small, at first I thought maybe they were hat pin cushions; but they had elastic pin straps.

The next thing I knew, I was posing in front of a mirror and squealing, "Ooh! This one matches my shirt!" I wanted one that looked a little more butch or Mr. Darcey, and as I picked one up, I said, "Oh, all this one needs is a peacock feather." Prompted by some Spirit of Disney Wishes, I turned it around and viola!  A peacock feather!  Of course I put it on. I was seriously tempted to buy it because I know a certain six year old who would be mortified if I wore it....

But, alas, it was like the snake charm bracelet; I'd wear it once at home, by myself, maybe while sipping a cup of tea while sitting on a cushion and listening to bellydance music; and I'd glance at myself in a mirror and quote George Hamilton quoting Lauran Hutton: "I am comical, and absurd; willing to do or say anything to please my man." (I really do want Lauran Hutton's hat from the closing scene in Zorro, The Gay Blade).... and then I'd pack it with some of the other clothes I wear maybe once every three years or so.

Ah well.  I'll always have Paris.

Swimming with Sharks

Thursday the 17th.

This afternoon I am slightly sunburned. Not too bad, and luckily only on my shoulders and upper back (and five days later, my back is itchy itchy itchy).

We went to Typhoon Lagoon. The best part was swimming with the sharks. We got to use face masks and snorkels so we could swim about forty feet over a saltwater tank filled with manta rays, bonnet-head sharks, and leopard sharks.  And pretty blue fish.

I was surprised how many folks quickly swam over the surface. I sculled my hands and kept my arms next to my body, which was warmer. The water was seventy degrees Fahrenheit; they warned us a lot that the water would be cold, but actually, the cleansing showers when we got in were worse.

I think the oddest experience was another Parents Behaving Badly moment when a mother and a father forced their screaming nine year old daughter to get into the water with them. Even with my ears under the water, I could hear shrieking protestations and loud arguing and a life guard calling to them, "Ma'am, do you need any help?" I'm not sure what it is about the water parks, and maybe it's the time of year that we've visited, but it's the place I seem to notice the most Brits Behaving Badly.

Anyway, the blue fish seemed to like me a lot and came right up too me. It was slightly alarming when one of the sharks became curious and angled up from the bottom to about the mid-level of the tank. I liked the manta rays, and seeing the sunlight ripple along the aquarium bottom and on the fish was beautiful.

This was my first time snorkeling, so I did the classic "look too far to the left and get a load of salt water in the snorkel" move. Of course I did this after I had just exhaled, so I had to stop floating, tread water, and fiddle with my snorkel to get a breath and clear it. Something about floating face down in the water looking a pretty fish is relaxing, and I noticed my breath slowing to a hypnotic exhale-inhale rhythm; it reminded me of how I breathe when I dream I can breath underwater. Then a blue fish came right up to me and startled me.

After the forth time through (there wasn't much of a wait), I found myself shivering a little, so I trouped over to the monster tidal wave pool. For about a half hour, I was in a pool with about a three hundred other folks. There would be a kind of hydraulic popping sound at the far end of the pool, then a giant wave of water would swell up from nowhere, and everyone (who had been waiting for this moment) would scream and try to catch a massive, six to four foot wave. Repeat randomly every two minutes or so.

The combination of the sun, saltwater and other chemicals has tightened my skin. We'll see if that's a good thing or not. Swimming instead of walking everywhere was kinder to my feet, and I felt much more limber by the end of our pool park visit than I did when I woke up. We'll see if the muscles I used swimming complain tomorrow (editor's note:  they didn't).

Buzzed in Tomorrow Land

Wednesday Evening, the 26th.

We returned to the Magic Kingdom to watch the fireworks.  OK, and ride the Pirates of the Caribbean and Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin rides.

Rain threatened as we arrowed our way to the pirate ride.  I've been leaving the details out, but most of the rides we got on we would try to use Fastpass.  This involved someone taking all our tickets, running ahead, and using them to get an assigned Fastpass entrance time that the rest of us would use once we got to the attraction.  Some of the times we were able to ride a ride twice by getting a Fastpass ticket, waiting in the regular line once (if the wait was under ten or fifteen minutes), and then going through again in the Fastpass line.

In Adventure Land, we rode the Pirate Ride twice.  I think they turned up the lights on this ride since I last rode it in 2005.  On one hand, this is probably a good thing for folks who have problems seeing in the dark.  On the other hand, I remember the initial entrance had a ghostly pirate face wailing "Dead men tell no tales" and a skeleton pirate sailing a raft.  This time, the lights were much brighter and the sailor looked less spectral.  At the end of the ride, you are forced to walk through the Pirate Schlock Shop.

Then it started to rain, hard.  We broke out our rain ponchos and continued to the next adventure.

In Tomorrow Land, we rode the Spin three times.  I don't know if it was the late hour or the rain or both, but there was almost no one there.  The first time through, I rode with Mark. The idea is to get into a cart and then ride through a futuristic arcade using a laser gun to shoot Z's -- for Emperor Zurg -- in an attempt to foil Zurg's wicked plot.  You can turn the cart with a joystick in order to be able to aim at targets behind you.   At the end when you get out, a picture of you on the ride's cart shows up.

My picture was hilarious. I think I was getting a little annoyed because I wasn't sure what my laser was hitting, and I was getting into the game. So in the photo I'm hunched over the gun, gripping it with both hands, and my teeth are bared. You can almost hear me muttering, "Eat hot photons, Martian scum." Mark looked serene as he calmly fired.


Since I had to own so funny a shot, I rushed up to the photo counter, told them the photo humber (222220) and decided to order a big copy of the photo. I must have gushed a little, and it was 9:30 on a really rainy night, and I guess since I was a greying 47 year old in a Tigger sweater with a matching Tigger park pin on my collar, and because the photo was sooo Space Man Spiff, the photo clerk put the photo into my hands and said, "From us to you, we'd like you to have this as a gift."  (I didn't realize it at the time, but in the print, she switched my and Mark's scores so I'd be a Galactic Hero; but I guess I should say that for the record, Mark got the high score).

And then it was time for the Wishes Fireworks Show.  I like the fireworks, especially the signature white blaze arcing over the signature Cinderella castle.... and, I wish the narrative included something about how a wish is the first step to getting something you want instead of the final step. My and Mark's favorite quote from this show is The Wicked Queen from Snow White proclaiming, "I can make a wish, too!" (and I like the accompanying green and purple fireworks.)

Epcot Wednesday Morning

Wednesday the 16th.

Today I had a large chunk of time by myself at the Epcot Center. I specifically wanted to visit Morocco, to photograph tile design; Norway, to photograph the Stave church carving of a dragon; and Mexico, to get a photo of the Mayan carving. My feet are still throbbing and sore.

We went into the future world exhibit in the giant geodesic globe. I love the globe, and could happily spend an entire day and camera memory card photographing it in different lights, angles and distances.  The Future World Ride was an interesting review of the history of communications. I liked the way that flames were projected onto a fine mist in ancient Egypt and Rome.  I'll have to see if I can do that at home--perhaps we could have a flaming goblet or something for Halloween.

I rode with Mary, and as we were progressing backwards and down to disembarking, the ride generated a cartoon using our faces. In the future, Mary and I went skiing and I broke my arm. But nanites healed the bone while we sipped cocoa in the futuristic ski chalet.  (Oddly enough, the video that I e-mailed to myself has Mary braking her arm instead of me.  I'm not sure if they switched things or if my memories are from an alternate universe.)

I entered the Display of Nations right as it opened at 11. It was interesting to see it before it filled with tourist families.

Morocco was fun. I almost bought some Moroccan tile to take home. I had hoped that they had something that wasn't so heavily octagonal; and the clerk there tried hard to invent new systems of counting to six, but he still kept coming up with eight-fold designs. I almost bought an articulated snake bracelet (jewel studded) but it was kind of expensive, and I thought, "Where would I wear this?" I did grab a light lunch of a falafel roll.   I avoided the deadly red pepper someone slipped into my couscous (Mark doesn't believe me, but I'm pretty sure that calendula was in the couscous), and I was harassed by a live duck (not named Donald) who waddled into the restaurant.

Then I sketched out the basic design of the tilework done on the cafe table.

The Stave Church was disappointing. Seven years ago, I tried to photograph a dragon sculpture. This time, the sculpture had been removed (apparently they'd removed a lot of things to make way for a Kim Possible feature, which is in the process of being paved over for a Phineas and Ferb ride).  It's possible the carving was only on loan and was returned to Oslo or something.

In the Italian Pavilion, I struck up a conversation about clocks with a mask maker. He used a plaster mould to make cat masks he was working on.

At the Japan Pavilion, the torii gate there reminded me of my Second Life friend, Pomona, so I had to take a photograph of it.  This proved difficult, as there were topiary characters from "Cars" there.  I wanted to enter the pagoda, but it was closed.

In China, I overhead someone saying how cool the temple there was during a hot day, so I went inside.  At the top of the temple was a medallion of a dragon and phoenix.  A little further on, there was an exhibit of terracotta tomb soldiers.

I stuck my head into various shops (especially in Germany) thinking that I might find a nice Christmas orniment for my Mom, but nothing really jumped out and said, "Buy Me!"