The Brown Fairy

Everyone thinks that fairies have a charmed life but it’s really not that different from Homo Sapiens or other species. This tale is about a brown fairy called Hazel. Like Dragonflies, fairies have an awkward pupa stage. They don’t develop from larva but when younger, they have short stubby wings, their coloring is muted and their flying skills need some work.  Hazel’s best friend Rosa is a typical example of the Roseate species and is the Barbie of the fairy world. Her little wings are perfectly formed with a faint translucent blush tone. Her hair is a glossy burgundy and her violet eyes sparkle. Hazel was so disappointed that her eyes were same as her name – neither green nor brown.

Rosa and Hazel met at their first year of the Texas School of Fairies. There, every color of Texas was represented from beautiful bluebonnet fairies to rather plain tumbleweed fairies whose thorny wings kept everyone at a distance. Texas has more brown fairies than most places as they have to be camouflaged in their surroundings. Some Texan Browns are Sandy blondes from the dusty west to Piney Wood fairies like Hazel, with a mix of brown and green.  Hazel wondered who would want to blend into the endless forests and sediment rich ponds. She thought enviously about rare Azure Fairies from the Caribbean to the Pacific Blue Fairies in California. They were only pictures in books but she was at the age where an exotic boy fairy made her pretty hazel eyes dreamy with longing. Her parents, unfortunately, were rather old school Texan Browns. “What’s wrong with a nice local boy such as Moss or Bark?” Hazel’s eyes rolled dismissively, out of her parents’ eye shot, because you dare not defy a fairy parent.

School was strict too, “Yes Ma’am!” Hazel revered Miss Centaury, who was a native to Romania just like the wildflower – her field of study was the art of camouflage. Her wings were a vivid shade of purple mixed with red; her hair and eyes completely black. Her accent delighted most of the students who were most used to the generic “Y’alls”. So what do fairies study? Everything that will help them achieve the goal of their species – bring joy and mystery to all the other species lives. When you see your cat pouncing on something invisible in the garden, they are likely playing with the Garden Fairies.  The fairy species works hard to keep their presence secret from most humans. Homo sapiens have lost many of original gifts. We don’t believe in Santa never mind the tooth fairy. There is no time to just sit and stare at the daisies so you miss the shimmer of the yellow and white Daisy fairies. Have you ever seen what looks like a fish jumping to the surface of a lake? There are concentric rings on the water with just a hint of a rainbow. Sometimes it is Lake Fairies who love to play Tag with the catfish.

In times long past many more humans could see the Fairies, especially those working the land. Some nations, most famously the Irish, have embraced their ancestors’ relationship with the Fairy species. Leprechaun is the Irish name for the male Meadow fairies that are as green as the old country. Hazel wondered if she would if she would ever travel to Ireland. Maybe it was possible because she was a brown fairy with green camouflage? She had met a visiting Irish History tutor at school. He was so handsome – tall and slender with bright green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. All the little fairies swooned and made rude jokes about his Shillelagh. Hazel didn’t quite understand what that meant but she thought it might be about S.E.X. Her conservative Texan parents refused to talk to her about the breeding habits of the fairy world. She had watched Dragonflies mating on the wing, vibrating with pleasure. This made Hazel blush furiously and her eyes darkened to mahogany with anticipation.

She and Rosa whispered quietly about future spouses. They were approaching their ‘Blossom Stage’. Humans have a similar time when little girls’ busts grow from 28 AA to 34 C and little boys’ voices change from squeaky to manly. Rosa and Hazel knew that they would retreat to their homes and sleep for a few weeks. During the Blossoming, a cocoon of silky fabric would envelop them for a period and when they emerged, Hazel and Rosa’s wings would be fully developed and their coloring would subtly change. It could be deeper, more intense or just different. Since Hazel was a Piney Woods fairy she would likely be shades of brown, green or copper. The little fairies were anxiously excited; Rosa was a little more confident about her blossoming but both girls were worried about such a metamorphosis.

Cocoon Day finally arrived and Hazel’s parents made her a comforting meal of Beauty Berries and Tree Sap before tucking her into her hammock. The fermented Tree Sap gently carried her into a dreamless sleep. The next time she opened her eyes, her parents were anxiously watching her. “Be careful, Honey. You need to get up slowly and let your new wings unfurl”. Hazel blinked the sleep from her eyes. To her surprise her body was much longer with slender long legs. She carefully put her feet on the earthen floor and was momentarily unsteady with the weight of her new wings. Her Pop held her steady and urged her to shake her new wings free of their cocoon. It was the strangest sensation as they unfurled. Her Mom gasped in pleasure and her Dad was smiling. They both took her hands and led her down to the forest pond so that she could see herself.

Tears started to roll down Hazel’s face as she saw her new visage. Her hair had lightened to a silvery brown color; wavy long tresses that framed her beautiful face. Hazel’s eyes were now a shade of Moss Agate, glistening with tears. She tentatively stretched out her wings so she could fully see them and now she gasped. Her top wings were a beautiful shade of creamy peach; those under were a light silvery green and the bottom wings were a pale pistachio. “Oh Hazel” said her Mom, “I think it is time to choose your Forever Fairy name. Doesn’t she look like a Carolina Linden, Pop, with gray and green foliage? What do you think Honey?”

Carolina Linden Fairy, formerly known as Hazel, quivered her wings with excitement, and delicately flew up above the pond to live her new adult life.

A Carolina Linden Tree also known as a Basswood. Rare but present in the Piney Woods area of Texas

 

San Diego Mugshots

…and to another brilliant segue by Kerry – from Folsom to San Diego. There is a lovely little seaside community in San Diego called Seaport. As I was walking about I noticed this fancy schmancy shopping and dining center, The Headquarters at Seaport. Even more intriguing was that this was the original San Diego Police Headquarters built in 1939. What a place to work with magnificent views of the water! As the city increased in size they outgrew the original headquarters and here we are today. Amazingly they kept the original 8 block cell intact with some of the mugshots of the prisoners. This is a link to the history and architecture of The Headquarters.

Since I went to San Diego to research my ancestors, I looked with cautious trepidation at the mugshots. Was one my relative – not to my knowledge? What an interesting bunch they were. Such a mix of ethnicities and most of the crimes seemed relatively minor.

Block of 8 jail cells

The cell blocks themselves looked better than most youth hostels I frequented in my youth. You had a bed, toilet and sink all to yourself – wow! I bet there was even hot water…


As fascinating as it was, I was left with a feeling of sadness that so many of them were drug addicts. How little life changes over the generations. At least they had reasonably sized jail cells with the smell of the ocean just outside the door.

Texas Trains

Look at that! A Texas sky and an old railroad with no barriers. Us Texans are brave…

I recently had the good fortune to travel to Brenham in the Texas hill country for work.  It is a small country town, German in origin, north west of Houston.  The last time I traveled for work was in the UK, to grim industrial towns in England.  This trip was much better with perfect spring weather in Texas (hot summer weather in UK).

I used to be terribly frightened of railroad crossings but since moving here, I have had to get used to them.  Most of them around me have no barriers so the train uses the horn for miles – a sound I love.  Sometimes on a quiet night I can hear them at night about 4 miles in the distance.  Now I just stop briefly at the railroad and check there are no trains (not everyone stops…)  The crossing above was right in the middle of the old section of town.

Santa Fe Depot

These train company names immediately bring nostalgic memories of old American movies and I dream of jumping on a wagon to travel across country.

Abandoned train line

Or at least I think it is abandoned – it is sometimes hard to tell out in the countryside.  As I child I would have constantly been on these train lines imagining the destinations.

Yellow train

This is just one part of a very long train that had dozens of wagons.  They sometimes are so long that it takes 20 minutes for one to pass.

Wildflowers beside the Walmart

As I was leaving the Super Walmart I noticed this field of bluebonnets, followed by red wildflowers and finally yellow.  The sky was very overcast and it gave a surreal feel to the field.  I attempted a photo watercolor below.

Watercolor created by using Photoscape

What is this?

A mystery…

Those strange markings in a circular pattern; flying saucers or just saucers?  Did a small alien land in my garden?  No…just a very fussy feral kitty called Katniss who decided that she doesn’t like gourmet chicken with tomatoes.  I fed her first and then went in to tend to Toffee who was wailing because Katniss was fed first.  I glanced out afterwards to check on Katniss and she was standing staring at me through the window.  Her dish was missing too, so I went out to see what had happened.

She stared at me with her little round green eyes and I started laughing when I saw that she had covered (the very expensive) food with stones and dirt.  “Would you prefer something else, Princess?” “Yes, please, strange human mummy”  She deigned to eat the crunch but was silently condemning me for my poor grocery shopping.

I suppose she looks rather well fed and spoiled for a feral.  She has a strange psychic ability over me and I can sense she has arrived in the garden waiting for food, even when I can’t see her.  My car noise is immediately identifiable and that often brings her running.  Toffee often knows when her Dad is turning into the street before he arrives at the house.  Animals have amazing sixth senses.

I caught a cold this week, just a regular snuffly nose one, but it turned my brain to jelly.  During a phone call I could not remember my home telephone number which I have had for 14 years.  My recent travel photos are waiting for me to turn into a Postcard from Kerry but they will have to wait until my brain recovers.

My heart goes out to our neighbors at Santa Fe, Texas with another school shooting by a disturbed young man whose father’s guns were available.  They should be locked in a gun case.

My heart glows to see Prince Harry marry a biracial American.  As Teddy knows, all the smart guys marry one of those…❤

Wordless Wednesday

Colonial Arch in Merida, Mexico at sunset.

Rose Gold

Rose gold hair

A miracle happened!  I colored my hair a new shade of rose gold and it turned out the same as the picture on the box.  Then I went to my hairdresser who cut it rather sharply with a cute little quiff.  It is my husband’s 60th birthday next weekend so I wanted to have a nice haircut to celebrate with him.  I am still in shock that I will be married to a 60 year old man – whaaaaaatt!!!!

He still looks cute though…

My two beautiful girls

TOFFEE

This is the inside Princesa – Toffee.  It is hard to get a good shot of her because she is a darkly colored Tabby (mixed with Egyptian Mau).  In reality, her markings and fur are exquisite.  She has the typical saggy beige fluffy tummy of a Mau and little fluffy Hobbit feet to protect her from the desert heat.  We rescued her as a kitten in Cairo but at age 15, I still can’t pick her up.  For years she hardly spoke but since the other two Egyptian cats died she has not shut up…  She talks about everything with precise vocalizations.  “Thank you” for lunch sounds very different from “Clean up my poo stat!”  Although she and Katniss have never met face to face, Toffee chats to her through the open window.  In some Disney world they would be sleeping together but they are both little ferals, happy in their own worlds.  She hunts sunbeams around the house even though I keep the temperature at 76 degrees or above.  I move Nana’s orange and brown rug about so that her old bones are comfortable in the sunbeam.

KATNISS

This is the outside Princesa – Katniss.  I rudely call her Fatniss because she is a voracious but slow eater.  She is probably about 3 or 4, maybe neutered by the local cat people and I think she belongs to me now?  At the moment I was writing this, I ‘knew’ that she was outside, so I interrupted this post to feed her with newly clean dishes.  The raccoons have been playing with the dishes again and I had to hunt for them around the garden.  From time to time, Katniss rolls in the garden and I get to see her lovely white tummy with a black belt (in Karate?)  She has a lovely mixture of black and pink toes, usually immaculate despite living outside.  She also talks – do they get it from me??  Katniss has a tiny little voice and chats while I feed her.  Sometimes the tone is terse when it is cold or wet.  She also hisses when she is happy – I think she is just trying all her vocalizations.

They make me happy. ❤

There’s one vegetarian in Texas…

It is not very easy to be vegetarian in our traditional part of Texas.  Not only do we rear cattle but the original settlers were mostly German.  I laughed out loud when I saw this Stop sign a few hundred yards from my house.  Graffiti usually annoys me but this was clever and funny!  Although more flexi than veggie, I rarely cook meat and many of the local restaurants balk at me asking for the steak flatbread, for example, with no steak.  My weakness is real ham….  Every Saturday I have a ham and cheese Arepa at our local brunch place – they smoke their own ham.

Longhorn steer

The Germans have been joined by a very diverse group of immigrants including many from Latin America thus the Arepa – maize based flatbread.  We live in a very tight series of cul-de-sacs with traffic circles.  To stop trucks and school buses churning up the corner, our HOA has put cobbles and more large boulders to deter them.  Do you think the vegetarian created this zen stacked rock cairn?

Celestún Beach, Mexico

Entry to beach

Perfect Playa

Doesn’t this look like paradise?  Where are the people? Celestún is famous for the breeding grounds of flamingos and the area is a bio preserve.  This means that Celestún hasn’t developed as much as other places in Yucatan such as Cancun.  It was warm but very breezy as you can see from the waves.

After I walked along the beach, I investigated some of the streets close by.  First I saw a group of elderly ladies in various stages of ill health that had been to the local clinic.  I doubt their medical care was as extensive as mine but they were happily chattering as they walked home.  They had probably known each other from childhood and I looked at them in quiet envy.

Celestun village street

La Palapa Restaurant

There were a few restaurants and one was right on the beach.  I really needed a clean restroom but ordered a local beer and admired the view.  The restrooms were like most in the area – spotlessly clean, smelling of bleach with that fantastic foot pedal to flush the toilet.  There was also a clean wastebasket to put your toilet paper in.  The pipes are too narrow and the paper pollutes the pristine environment.  I thanked my hosts kindly and walked out.

Only in Mexico do you get a crucifix in the bar…

As I rounded the corner, reality struck me in the face.  An old sick dog was seizing in the road.  Her eyes were sunken and she was just hours or days from death.  I immediately went into triage mode.  How could I euthanize this dog, likely a stray?  I had left my tranquillizers at the hotel which I could have crushed into some tuna.  As I stopped and stared, I knew I could do nothing.  My rabies vaccinations are long since out of date.  The dog was not mine and it might not be culturally acceptable for me to be the angel of death.  In Cairo most people disapproved of animal euthanasia as it was God’s decision when we die.

I walked on with the knowledge that as much as I would like to, I couldn’t live in a poor rural country.  In Belize I snuck food out of the hotel to feed the starving dogs because there were no shops.  When I got back to the car, Angel, my driver, asked me what I thought of the village.  I told him truthfully that it was exquisite and charming.  Then I told him about the dog in halting Spanish – to my astonishment he seemed to truly understand my dilemma.  Ah, the yin and yang of life.

Cat Mural Celestun

Katniss has Help…

Katniss playing

This post is an excuse to tell you some random stories and wish everyone Happy Easter, Passover, Pagan spring thing or whatever.  I hope you enjoy scampering naked through a field of wildflowers, eating too much chocolate or going to your church.

Katniss has Help…

As most of you know, we have a feral cat who visits twice a day for dinner.  We named her Katniss and have a collection of little plates just for her.  Rabies is quite common in Texas so I am very careful to separate Katniss’s plates from Toffee’s (our indoors cat from Egypt).  I am also lazy and end up with a pile of dirty dishes after a few days.  Then I will put them in a bucket of soapy, bleachy water to soak and then will clean them.  A week ago, I forgot to finish my task and left the bucket outside overnight.  I sleep with industrial ear plugs because Teddy really snores like a bear.  He commented in the morning that he wondered what the raccoons had been doing in the night (how could he hear anything over the snoring?)  He said that it sounded like they were breaking something and were chittering noisily.  Later on, I remembered my bucket and went out to do the dishes but someone had beaten me to it.  I looked at the bucket quizzically because the saucers were all placed tidily alongside.  I burst out laughing when I realized that the raccoons had ‘washed’ the dishes for me.  They are very smart little critters who love playing with water.  They will dip toys in the water as well as their food.  Our neighbor found them swimming in her pool one night, chittering happily.  I wondered if I should get them a toy kitchen.

The Help

The back-handed insult

St Mary’s Catholic Church
Brenham

I will be volunteering on Easter Sunday, as usual, and my doctor refers to it as my church service.  I love that idea and the next time a rude customer asks me if I have nothing better to do on a Sunday, I will say I am at my church doing something more useful than singing hymns.   Last week a pleasant older lady asked me where I was born (Scottish accent).  I told her the long story short – Californian Irish Mexican hybrid.  She looked at me carefully and then said, “You are a beautiful woman” “You don’t look a bit Mexican”.   I really didn’t know how to respond to that ‘compliment quickly followed by insult’.

The real compliment

Bluebonnets by the side of the highway

On my recent trip to the Texas countryside, I was driving along the major route between Houston and Austin.  The speed limit is 75 miles per hour but in Texas we read that as 85 or more; it is some kind of state dyslexia…  I noticed a group of cars had stopped on the side of the road and then saw the reason – BLUEBONNETS!!  To my own astonishment, I slowed down and did exactly the same.  Every Texan gets excited about our wildflower season but bluebonnets are an indigenous little blue Lupine that sets our hearts aflame.  Here is a link to a previous funny post about Bluebonnets.  After acting like an idiot on the road, I noticed a field of them next to my hotel which was near a super Walmart and, even better, A THRIFT STORE!  Kerry was in heaven, both with bluebonnets and cheap clothes.  It was a treasure trove with rich ranchers’ cast offs.  One top still had the ticket on it – $50 for $5.  At the desk, the young girl tentatively asked me if I was over 55 (30% senior discount) and I brought out my driving license (yes, they really gave me one).  She said that I didn’t look 55.  As I related this story to my colleagues later they expressed surprise at my real age and willingness to admit it in this age obsessed society.  Again I burst out laughing – I just told them I shopped at thrift stores so why hide my age.  Dang it, I would do pretty much anything for a 30% discount…