Last summer, I was invited to dinner at my friend’s parents’ house atop a hill overlooking the Pacific Ocean.  As if that weren’t enough of a treat, I was served the sweetest corn on the cob I had ever had the pleasure of gnawing on, the ear’s yellow teeth yielding to my bite with a sugary pop.  I simply had to know where my gracious hosts had acquired such golden bounty.  Chino Farms, came the response.

Soon after that delicious evening, I found myself tracking down this tiny farm run by the Chino Family.  My hosts had told me that, back in the day, the Chinos had acquired the land in Rancho Santa Fe for a bit of a bargain:  the land wasn’t considered prime real estate — it was a little too swampy, slightly too far from the ocean, and not on one of the nearby hills that overlook the sprawling valley below — but the soil was perfect for growing any number of delicious fruits and vegetables.

I later learned from a meal at the fabulously fancy George’s at the Cove and online sources that San Diego foodies and restaurateurs alike rely on produce from Chino Farms.  The only thing folks seem to grumble about is the price.  Undeterred, I arrived one Tuesday morning in October.  That sugary corn was still in season, as were little strawberries that were the juiciest, most strawberriest of my life.  It was all the Mister and I could do to not devour the whole punnet on the ride home…

The stand is a little out of my way, otherwise I would have returned before last week, my second visit.  I vow to go more often, because the drive is a lovely one — a winding road with a 45mph speed limit (my favourite speed — fast enough to get from A to B, but slow enough to enjoy the scenery!) past Del Díos Lake, and through a valley of lush semi-tropical California vegetation that reminds me so much of Spain.

Twenty minutes later, past the lake, I turned onto the driveway leading up to a wide wooden shack.  It is a simple structure, but the fruits, vegetables, herbs, and edible flowers on display are the jewels in the crown.  Here’s what I admired / bought on my visit last week:

Maybe it’s the New Yorker in me used to a higher cost of living, but I was pleasantly surprised how reasonable prices are.  Considering that everything is grown locally and without the use of pesticides, I think prices are quite fair.  All of this cost me $17 –  not that much more expensive than in a supermarket chain:

Clockwise from top: broccolini, sage, parsnips, purple broccoli, Meyer lemons, oranges, carrots.

Later that evening, I cut the carrots and knobbly parsnips into strips and roasted them in the oven (400˚F for 20 mins.) with a drizzle of olive oil and a dash of sea salt.  They were a wonderful accompaniment to the sautéed broccoli and broccolini which enjoyed a squeeze of lemon — the lemons, incidentally, were perfectly sour, but also incredibly sweet.

Banjo is curious about citrus fruits (presumably because they are like brightly coloured balls with a crazy smell) and eyed the quartet on the counter for a while before gingerly licking the peel.  I cut one and licked the flesh inside and squealed –  better than any sour candy.  Dessert was an orange each; and I can’t remember a sweeter one.

Over dinner, I turned to the Mister and declared that, with produce like this, it would be so easy to be vegetarian.  I’d rather spend the money saved on meat and put it towards fruits and vegetables that have been grown with love.  You can taste the difference.  He concurred.

As for the sage, with its heady medicinal perfume… it was thrown in a little frothy butter the next day and served on top of a bowl of pumpkin ravioli.

Come Friday, I might return for a beets to make borscht, along with some buttery lettuce, nasturtiums (edible flowers!), more citrus and knobbly parsnips… Watch this space!

Perspective.  It’s always there, and never the same.

Duck or Rabbit?

I think about perspective every time I am reminded that I am as tall as I am — whether an obvious exclamation or genuine request for help (usually in the grocery store, by someone sheepishly asking me to pass them something from up high)… or pick up my camera… or admire a trompe l’oeil painting… or try to put myself in someone else’s shoes… or try to ‘think outside of the box’… or remind myself that the grass is always greener… (or is it?)

I recently came across two artists who each challenge our perspectives beautifully.

The first, Christine Sun Kim, is a deaf artist who visually explores sound.  I find that fascinating!

I take my excellent hearing for granted and would be hard pressed to think about how to present sound in a visual context.  (Remember that childhood song, I Can Sing a Rainbow?  To prove my point, the line in it, “listen with your eyes and sing everything you see” always drove me mad… until now!)

Photographer Todd Selby made a short film about Sun Kim “to act as an artistic conduit for her to tell her story to the world”.  Through his eyes, we see her visual exploration of sound.  Watch the film here: http://www.nowness.com/day/2011/11/9/1700/todd-selby-x-christine-sun-kim

•

The second artist I discovered, Zander Olsen, plays around with perspective by wrapping and photographing trees to “construct a visual relationship between tree, not-tree and the line of horizon according to the camera’s viewpoint.”

I like how, through his lens, Olsen offers you just one perspective to challenge your own!

And now I’m thinking of how to wind down this post.  Another person might have an obvious conclusion, but not me, not tonight: my dog is whining at my feet to say he’s hungry and, from his perspective, he just can’t understand and why I’m still staring at something and tapping noises.

So, you tell me.  What’s your take on perspective?

The Journey
by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do –
determined to save
the only life you could save.

My little sister, Bubs, is mischievous. But she also has a very big heart. When she was about 13, she started secretly leaving out milk for a stray cat who roamed the village. Mum wondered why this mewing cat, nicknamed Mrs. Tiddles, kept showing up at her front door, but, being a fairly clued-in parent, she soon figured out what was happening. Only when she learned that her antique bone china saucers were being used was she annoyed. But there’s something about naughty Bubs, you just can’t be cross with her for long… Besides, the cat was a pretty little thing, her daintiness offset by the the slightly dishevelled air of someone wearing long white socks, one pulled up and the other in puddles around the ankle.  Or a black cat who playfully batted a spilt pot of white paint and tried to lick it off her leg.  She’s like Dinah, the cheeky kitten in Alice in Wonderland.  No wonder Bubs fell in love.  It wasn’t long afterwards that Mrs. Tiddles became a member of the family, sporting a bright pink diamanté collar with a tiny bell.

One afternoon, as Mum and I were sipping tea, Tiddles looked up at her and stretched and blinked in Mum’s direction.  When Banjo does this to us, it’s usually because he’s hoping for something — either to be given attention or, more commonly, to be taken outside.  Tiddles didn’t seem hopeful for anything, so I asked Mum what this slow blink meant.  “It’s a sign of affection”, she beamed.

If people are divided into cat-people and dog-people, our family has always belonged to the latter camp — and the bigger the dog, the better.  When Mum allowed “TiddleCat” into the home (and so soon after Tariq, her golden Lab and canine love of her life, died) I had assumed it was for big-hearted Bubs.

But here she was, clearly basking in the adoration of this feline gaze, and at that moment I knew it was love.

Then she said, “Did you know that our question mark and exclamation mark symbols come from Egyptian hieroglyphics, which are based on the tail and anus of a cat?”

I sputtered and chortled.

“No,” she continued, very seriously, “when a cat is curious, its tail swishes and flicks from side to side, and when it’s angry its tail stands straight up in fury… Just like ? and !” Her index finger traced both symbols in the air, jabbing the space below to emphasise the dot.

Who knew?

Since then I’ve learned a little bit about cat body language.  I’ve had to:  there’s an orange cat that comes into our yard.  Since Banjo has only ever met two cats (the first was wary; and the second hissed and frothed and spat at him like a thing possessed) I felt I ought supervise Lefty’s visits.  I soon found out that such monitoring wasn’t necessary.  Lefty lives next door with at least two canine siblings and is quite confident around dogs.

Luckily for her, in spite of his Greyhound and German Shepherd genes, Banjo neither wishes to chase and pounce Lefty, nor terrorise and eat her.  Nor is he remotely interested in the birds Lefty preys on, but will instead watch her, puzzled.  Nope, in spite of all his barkiness, Banjo is a bit like a canine version of Ferdinand the Bull: all he wants to do is sniff that cat’s arse.

Depending on Lefty’s mood, this desire is met with one of two scenarios:  1) the resignation of a frigid Victorian (Oh, must you? *Sigh* Alright, dear, get it over with…); or, 2) the sassiness of today’s modern, assertive Lil’ Ms. Kitt’n (Paws off, pal!).

In the first scenario, a dance ensues: Banjo timidly circling Lefty, blinking, lowering his head, saying everything he can in Doggish to show he is no threat.  After a few circles, Banjo’s truffle nose will get a good whiff before being flicked away by the swish of an orange tail.

But so as men are from Mars and women from Venus, so do dogs and cats also speak different languages: Banjo’s submissive circling unfortunately means, I’m about to pounce, yo!  in Cattish.  If he gets too close too soon, the second scenario plays out, and he’s left staring at the almighty fanged and hissing cavern that is Lefty’s mouth.

The first time this happened, he also got a little punch on the nose from an angry orange paw.  Luckily, no claws were involved, but he’s never forgotten the shock, poor lamb, and now hurriedly backs off whenever he hears a hiss…

Since the above photo was taken, Banjo and Lefty have worked things out.  Banjo has learned the words ‘cat’ and ‘Lefty’, and will scramble to the backyard door if he hears either of these words.  Although he hasn’t figured out that cats probably don’t appreciate his joyful barks, I’m pleased to report that they happily share the yard with each other.

Now ain’t that a metaphor for world peace?

Driving back from Del Mar beach this weekend, with a thoroughly worn out dog whose damp fur clumped in little spikes bound together with sand and sea salt, I saw a magical sight: three hot air balloons hovering in the sky up ahead. Two hung low in the sky, grazing the horizon, but the middle balloon began to gain upwards momentum as we approached it.

How many times have you looked up and seen a hot air balloon passing directly overhead?  Me: just once.

It was such a simple treat to see this brightly-coloured thing floating in the sky right above me.  Kind of like finding the fabled pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.  I wondered who these flight enthusiasts were, and what their bird’s-eye view must look like.  Could they see the yellow cliffs of Del Mar beach?  Did they think the fields below looked like a jumbled patchwork quilt?  Did they see my arm sticking out of the car window clutching a camera and wonder what my view looked like too?

What a lovely week I’m having! I’ve been exploring quite a few things…

…like Pilates.  I’ve discovered a form of exercise that tricks me into exercising!  Score!  In so doing, I’ve also discovered muscles I didn’t know existed. And I finally understand why sporty people bang on about the endorphin high.  I have a fabulous teacher, and I look forward to class.  Amazing!

…like the interior of my fabulous new hobo from MiMS on Etsy — I fell in love with this bag back in September, and 6 weeks later, I decided to splurge! It’s my first leather bag, and I think it’s worth every penny: the leather is beautiful and soft, the nickel hardware is simple and shiny, the interior pockets are a-plenty, and it’s really comfortable against my upper body. It was made especially for me, so I was able to specify the colour of the leather and the interior material. Eight weeks later, it arrived, and I am delighted.

…like classes at my local community college — I’ve signed up for Photoshop I, which will hopefully lead to a Certificate of Proficiency in Graphic Design / Web Design, which is the direction I’ve decided I want to take my career in. After so many years of not specialising in anything but “knowing a little bit about a lot of things”, I think I may have found my calling. And I’m excited!

…like my new Bamboo Create, a graphic tablet that replaced my mouse a few days ago. I love painting and drawing, and now I can do it on my computer!  One of the first things I did was to create a 30-second animation. Wot larx!

…like URGE Gastropub, my new favourite place to grab a burger and a beer in north county.  Mr. Fizgig and I joined our friend, Jason, and his friends there one evening: we caught up over gourmet burgers, strangely delicious popcorn (with honey, basil, pancetta, and pinenuts — yum!), and beers.  We hadn’t seen Jason since he took me out on his Ducatti motorbike for an exhilarating 90mph ride down the Champs-Elysées in Paris 11 years ago. Fast forward to the present day, Jason was passing through San Diego en route to Costa Rica from Seattle on another motorbike.  Good times with friends old and new.

…like the tracks on an album by Finnish rhythm and blues band Jewels and Blues. My step-brother is the lead singer, and I helped write the lyrics to a few of the songs.  It’s fun to hear my words set to another person’s music.  Rock on!

…and, most importantly, like discovering the San Diego neighbourhood that we are going to do our damndest to live in: South Park.  It’s a lovely tree-lined neighbourhood with sweet little cottages and bungalows.  From what I can tell, it has a lot of arty / cultural / community-orientated events, not to mention decent-looking watering holes and nosh pits.  But there’s also that wonderful Grape Street Dog Park, five acres of off-leash doggie bliss!  It reminded us of the long walks we’d take in Prospect Park, because this dog run is part of the lovely Balboa Park, flanked by a ravine, nature preserve, and golf course.  Not to mention, I’d really enjoy being able to say “I live in South Park”!  We’d really love to find a 2-bedroom cottage in the northern end — our friend who lives in the southern end lives right under the flight path of San Diego International Airport, and it can get a little noisy… So, fingers crossed!

So, guys, what’s the latest with you?

Ha! Ha! Ha!  I’ve been tinkering about with my latest gadget — a graphics tablet, an investment in my graphic design education.  I’m still getting used to the stylus, but my handwriting really is that spidery…

Here’s my first attempt at a bit of animation, a 30-second video (no sound), inspired by one of my favourite blogs, Hyperbole and a Half:

Shyhound and the Ball

Yep, that’s supposed to be Banjo (aka Shyhound), Mr. Fizgig, and me.  Banjo is ball mad… now if only I could get him to retrieve…

You may have noticed Fizgiggery’s new header, in celebration of the new year! In addition to slowly mastering the basics of Photoshop Elements, I’ve been doing a little bit of premature spring cleaning. I don’t usually set myself new year’s resolutions, but it’s made me think about what I want to achieve this year.

Here’s the [Bucket -- if the Mayans prove right!] list of 12 goals for 2012:

1.  Find a charming place to live.  Must be  large dog-friendly — none of that “oh, we’re dog-friendly, as long as your pooch is under 25 lbs” boolsheet.  I’m dreaming of a 2-bedroom cottage in an artsy neighbourhood near Balboa Park, like South Park, North Park, Normal Heights, Hillcrest.

2.  Pursue an education in Graphic Design / Web Design.  So far I’m self-taught, and I want to learn basic principles and fill in the gaps in my knowledge.  Hey, it might even boost my earning potential too!

3.  Start exercising AND learn to look forward to it.  As I’m 6′ (184cms) tall, my weight has never been an issue (*ducks*) but it’s things like stamina, osteoporosis, and flexibility that make me think about starting some sort of beastly regimen.

4.  Help my dog be calmer.  Banjo is highly-strung and suffers from isolation distress, which is different to separation anxiety. (SA has more to do with being separated from a specific person, whereas ID is more like a panic attack due to being left alone.)  Some things I want to explore include Ttouch, Reiki, and clicker training.

5.  Create more jewellery and re-stock my neglected Etsy store.

6.  Start painting again. I’m dreaming of finishing my painting of the Venetian skyline, that is a 60″x40″ canvas currently in storage on Long Island…

7.  Learn to take better photographs within the limitations of my camera.  Which only goes up to F-8.0.  Bugger.  (Otherwise, I think the Canon G11 is pretty rad.)

8. Practice living in the moment, made easier by neither dwelling on the past nor worrying about the future.

9.  Visit my mum, step-dad, and sister in Spain.  It’s been more than 18 months since I was last in mi patria, the longest I’ve ever been away.  And it’s been almost as long since I last spent time with my family.  That’s too long!

10.  Keep expanding my culinary repertoire.  Tomato-free vegetarian recipes! Lamb Rogan Josh!

11.  Read more offline…  If you’re reading this, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why!

12.  Discover “My” San Diego — I want to find a community of like-minded people:

If any of the above sounds like you, let’s talk!

Golly, it’s that time of year when time whizzes by and the new year will soon be upon us! My belly is groaning from vast quantities of lovely food, and I have new toys to play with (thanks, Santa!).

But all of this good cheer means I’m behind in my blogging and my inbox would be overflowing if it weren’t virtual. I’m sure it’s the same with you, so I made us a mixtape — a selection of songs I discovered this year.

Just whistle while you work…

k.d. lang & The Siss Boom Band // Sing it Loud
Jolie Holland & The Grand Chandeliers // Wreckage
Kimbra // Settle Down
Mina Tindle // Os Argonautas
Bigott // The Jingle Swing
Cal Tjader // Never My Love
Joanna Newsom // Colleen
Laura Marling // Sophia
Teddy Thompson // Take Care of Yourself
Boards of Canada // In a Beautiful Place Out in the Country
Pink Martini // Song of the Black Lizard
Ana Tijoux // 1977
The Morning Benders // Excuses
Lykke Li // I Follow Rivers (The Magician Remix)
Bébé Manga // Amie
Dan Auerbach // Heartbroken, in Disrepair
Atlas Sound // Te Amo
White Denim // No Real Reason
Mariachi El Bronx // Revolution Girls
Asa // Why Can’t We
Wolf Myer Orchestra & Parov Stelar // Soulgate (ft. Lilith)
Timber Timbre // Woman
Los Zafiros // Cuando Yo La Conocí
Easy Star All-Stars // Karma Police (ft. Citizen Cope)

Click to Play

Who are some of your favourite musicians? And did you discover them in 2011? I love discovering new music, so recommendations warmly received!