A couple of days later found me on a fairly cringeworthy bus tour, which in retrospect did get me some good photos and a few stories to tell. It also landed me in front of a fruit stall, where (among other fruit options) there was a big stack of brightly colored dragonfruits (identified to me by my tour companion). I bought one.

While I intended to eat it, I admired it primarily for its looks. Here are a couple of photos of it as it posed while waiting for the cringeworthy bus. (Actually the tour bus wasn’t the problem. The tour guide was.)

It wasn’t until a couple more days had passed that I had a chance to try it. Here it is, back in my hotel room, sitting on a hotel towel. In spite of its resemblance to dragon scales, I found that the skin to be surprisingly easy to cut with the dull standard plastic knife I had.

It sliced up easily, revealing the the flesh inside with its speckling of black seeds. (I hadn’t been sure yet whether I’d gotten the same kind, as there is also a variety with red flesh inside, and a similar-looking outside.)

I seem to recall that the skin slipped off the fruit easily, but I have no supporting photographic evidence. I didn’t eat the skin, in any case. (I don’t actually know whether one can or should, but I have the impression that people don’t.)

(Sadly, this particular dragonfruit was more photogenic than it was tasty. It didn’t have even the hint of the kiwi-like tartness of the earlier fruit I’d sampled. In fact, it didn’t have much flavor at all.)

–
More dragon things to come…

(John and I found this note in the living room a couple of weeks ago. Neither of us knew anything about it. For those of you in California, I hope this warning isn’t reaching you too late.)

The past few weeks have been a crazy whirlwind of activity and productivity. Sunday night was an abstract deadline, and my research group got one in shortly before midnight. (It was nearly ready to submit the day before, but when finishing involves emails among 4 people, the process can be slow. Especially on weekends. Also, one generally will take as much time as one is given to put on the final touches. There is generally a process of hacking away at the text to make it all fit the space constraints, with adverbs getting mercilessly excised, and then at the end, an attempt to re-elegantize it.) In the weeks leading up to this, I spent every free moment working on processing the data, which consisted of several thousand tokens of elicited productions of speech of specific characteristics. Somehow I managed to fit all of this in with time spent with family and friends, including a week-long trip to my in-laws and several gatherings, as well as Christmas-related activities.

I have been busy.

I thought I had been managing to still get enough sleep along the way, as I had been making efforts to get to bed by midnight. I glibly wrote in an email I sent less than an hour after the abstract submission was complete that I believed myself not to be sleep-deprived. However, yesterday, I found that the tiredness kicked in. I had a day with the kids, taking advantage of Phoebe’s day off from school to visit some friends we don’t see often enough. By afternoon, I could barely keep my eyes open (which is not great, given that I was driving). Then we still had the violin lesson. Last night I imagined myself posting something here, but I found myself tied up in my words. (I was trying to write something intelligent and meaningful, attempting to mark Martin Luther King day in an intelligent and meaningful way. It proved to be beyond me.)

Today I was unable to focus, and unable to figure out what to tackle next. (Because, naturally, there are many things I have had to put off in my mad rush of productivity.) So I puttered about online. I puttered about in my photo library. I puttered about the kitchen. Then I took a two hour nap. I guess I needed to unwind.

Hopefully I will be able to regain my productivity again tomorrow. I have lots I’d love to write about here. (Yes, including wrapping up the recaps of my Hong Kong trip!) Then there are the next steps in my own research projects.

Plus at some point, we’ll probably need to take down the Christmas tree.

And do something with the pumpkins on the porch.

These photos are of a giant spool that appeared in the hallway outside the lab where I sometimes work at MIT. I’m particularly amused by the little “acoustic level” sign that sits above the spool in the top photo. (As I got together this set of photos to post, I had a sense of déja-vu. In fact, I had vu this déja just over 2 years ago, when I had started a draft post with the post title “unwound” in December of 2009.)

I seem to be all about feast or famine with the blogging frequency. Or flood and drought. November was a deluge. December slowed to a trickle. And then things looked to be drying up entirely. Well¹, I’m here to briefly rehydrate the blog. I’ll just give a spritz or two for now, and hopefully I’ll be able to open the valves shortly. Things will be downright soggy. Or at least somewhat damp.

For now, though, my time is being eaten up (drunk up?) by work. I have committed to getting a lot of data coded by Monday, and I’m so focused on that, I can’t even think of another water-related joke to round out the post.

–

¹ Ha, “well.” I didn’t even try for that one.

Clearly, I have a thing for the Santa-style garments. I always loved wearing a Santa hat on Christmas morning, if one was available. (With all our moves, we didn’t always have the same things each Christmas.) I remember really wanting to get myself a red velvet dress with white furry trim, but that has yet to happen. Instead, I live vicariously through my children.

Christmas Day, 2011: Theo, age 3 years 4 months and Phoebe, age 5 years 10 months.

Christmas Day, 2010: Theo, age 2 years 4 months, and Phoebe, 4 years 10 months

Christmas Day, 2009: Phoebe, 3 years 10 months and Theo, 1 year 4 months.

Christmas Day, 2008: Phoebe, age 2 years, 10 months.

Christmas Day, 2008: Theo, age 4 months.

Christmas Eve, 2008: Phoebe, age 2 years, 10 months.

Christmas Eve Eve Eve or so, 2007: Phoebe, age 1 year, 10 months.

Christmas Day, 2006: Phoebe, age 10 months. No Santa hat, but a festive bow.

It seems highly unlikely that the current outfits will fit another year. Who knows what the kids will want to wear next Christmas. (A few weeks ago, Theo proclaimed that he wanted to be Einstein for Christmas this year, but we didn’t come through with the costume for him. He’d be pretty cute in a wild wig and bushy white mustache, though…)

A few nights ago, John had a company party to go to, so the kids and I started in on the evening routine without him. Inspired by having sampled some delicious latkes at Phoebe’s class holiday party on Monday (which included both Christmas and Hanukkah treats and activities), and having just bought a big bag of potatoes, I decided I would try my hand at making latkes. (Wow, that was a really long sentence.) Anyhow, I made latkes, in honor of Hanukkah. I consulted the great oracle of Google, and got down to business peeling and grating. I have to say, I made some pretty tasty latkes.

The whole process also took probably longer than I’d intended, and it was after 6 by the time the kids and I sat down to eat our meal of latkes, fried eggs, latkes, steamed broccoli, and more latkes. (Phoebe declared the meal so delicious that she high-fived me.) I may have eaten far, far too many latkes. (From what I understand, that is also a Hanukkah tradition.)

After dinner, it was time for Phoebe and I to practice the violin. John usually takes Theo upstairs to start his shower while Phoebe and I practice downstairs. Since John wasn’t home yet, I thought Theo could keep us company in the parlor, which is where we always practice. (Really, some people my call it the living room. But when we moved into this house, we declared the “family room” to be our “living room,” and the official “living room” became the parlor. I like the word parlor. I mean, who would remember something like “‘step into my living room,’ said the spider to the fly.” Not that this is how the actual quote from the poem went. It’s just what people remember. I mean, with “parlor,” in place of “living room.” I suppose “den” might have also worked, for the spider, at least. But not for our house. We have a parlor.) The parlor is also where we have our Christmas tree. (I mention this, because this will be relevant shortly.) (Notice my subtle attempt at foreshadowing.)

When Phoebe and I practice her violin exercises together, we both sit on the floor. However, I had just bought myself a book of Christmas songs for the violin, and since Phoebe putters around a lot as she sets up her violin, I sat in a chair so I could set the book in my music stand, and played a bit. Theo was hanging an ornament he had made at daycare on the tree. Phoebe sat on the floor, opened up her violin case, and then suddenly wandered off to look at her gingerbread house. At that moment, Theo stepped back to look at his ornament on tree…and stepped directly onto Phoebe’s violin.

I’m not sure what noise escaped from me as I looked up and saw his foot land on the neck of Phoebe’s little quarter-sized violin (I think it was some sort of squeak), but I remember the exceedingly alarmed look on Theo’s face. I jumped up, and hurriedly set down my own violin. The trouble is, you can’t really hurriedly set down a violin. I basically dropped it. It made a loud crack and thwong noise as a couple of the pegs hit the coffee table and came unwound. I may have made additional noises.

Both children wailed.

In the end, I was able to assess that both violins were pretty much okay, if seriously out of tune. Happily, Theo managed to step on one of the less fragile parts of the instrument, and his weight was probably somewhat taken by the case, since the violin was still in it. He still felt awful. And so did Phoebe, for having left her violin open and on the floor. And so did I, for not having been paying enough attention to the actions of my small children around rather fragile instruments. And for having dropped my violin. Phoebe, though, was much comforted by the fact that we had, all three, made mistakes, which she enumerated repeatedly.

Did I mention I made latkes? They were delicious.

—

In case you didn’t manage to check out of all Neil’s fantastic Christmahanukwanzaakah Concert, which had musical contributions from a variety of different holiday cultural traditions, I wanted to share with you this trio of lovely ukelele productions. These talented women inspired me so much that I looked longingly at the ukeleles at the music store when I went to my violin lesson. (Not that I expect that ukeleles are much sturdier than violins.)

I’m totally smitten with the uber-catchy “we like to celebrate chrannukah,” by Jenny Mae.

Then there’s Elly of Buggin’ Word, Rockin’ around the Christmas Tree. (Please check out the adorable “shuke” (shirt uke) her son is wearing)

And lest the southern hemisphere feel left out, here’s Juli Ryan with her charming rendition of a New Zealand folk song: “Haere Mai Everything is Ka Pai”

It’s time for The Sixth Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert, and I managed to get my act together this year. (As promised.) I wrote lyrics. I sang. A duet. I even made a short movie. If you want to hear me singing, and want to see more proof of my insanity, go check out the concert at Neil’s place. (I’m all the way at the bottom, probably because of the lateness of my submission. I said I got my act together, not that I did so in a timely way…) Make sure you check out some of the other fantastic submissions of songs and photos, too. It’s a whole load of multi-holiday festiveness.

And here are my all-new¹ lyrics, based on Frank Loesser’s holiday standard:

Baby, It’s Cold Inside
This cold really blows
                (Yeah baby it’s cold inside)
I can’t feel my toes
                (Yeah baby it’s cold inside)
This whole house has been
                (Been keeping the fuel use down)
As cold as snow
                (I know the temp’s been kept real low)
My fingers will start to fall off
                (Well why did take your gloves off?)
My thumbs will surely drop on the floor
                (I’ll try to stop the draft from the door)
I’m going for the thermostat now
                (No, baby just put on your hat now)
But maybe just a half degree more
                (Are those all the layers you wore?)
My earlobes will freeze
                (Look at this scarf I wear)
My limbs will all seize
                (Try some long underwear)
I wish I knew how
                (You look like a snowman now)
To warm my feet
                (Put on more socks, don’t touch the heat)
I’m sure that I’ll freeze my ass off
                (We’re lucky it’s not the gas off)
This cold is going to break my will
                (At least we’ll have a lower fuel bill)
This cold really blows
                (oh baby don’t give in)
Baby it’s cold inside
                Baby it’s cold inside
                                Baby it’s cold inside

¹ “All-new” is not entirely accurate. I wrote this last December, but not in time for Neil’s concert. Last winter, as you may or may not know, was a particularly long, cold and icy one in New England. Seeing as I’ve been working at reducing my personal fossil fuel dependency, I have lobbied for setting the thermostat lower in the winter in our house. While our house isn’t really old, it isn’t super new either. What it is is super drafty. The result is that it can get downright chilly at times. I have many memories of the cool indoors from growing up; wearing layers of sweaters and warm socks is a winter tradition. I bundled up quite a lot last winter. But there aren’t enough socks and sweaters in the world to make me tolerate the wintertime temperatures in our downstairs bathroom:




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Has the holly jolly omnipresence of Christmas music been threatening your sanity? Before you let Rudolf drive your sleigh over the edge, just adjust your dials. I’ve put together a playlist of holiday song antidotes to help get the relentless ring of jingle bells out of your ears. ¹

• All I want for Christmas Is You: What do I get? The Buzzcocks
• The Happy Elf: Working for the Man, P. J. Harvey
• Santa Claus Is Coming To Town: Man That You Fear, Marilyn Manson
• Here Comes Santa Claus: Psycho Killer, Talking Heads
• Frosty The Snowman: Damn it Feels Good to Be a Gangsta, Geto Boys
• The Little Drummer Boy: Don’t Bang the Drum, The Waterboys
• I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus: Lapdance, N*E*R*D (No one Ever Really Dies)
• White Christmas: Black Celebration, Depeche Mode
• Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Only Happy When It Rains, Garbage
• A Child This Day Is Born: Birth, School, Work, Death, The Godfathers
• Holly Jolly Christmas: Helter Skelter, The Beatles
• Oh Holy Night : Head Like a Hole, Nine Inch Nails
• Sleigh Ride: Garbage Truck, Sex Bob-omb
• Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire: Burning Down the House, Talking Heads
• Do You Hear What I Hear? Smells Like Teen Spirit, Nirvana
• All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth: Bloodletting, Concrete Blonde
• Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree: The Downward Spiral, Nine Inch Nails
• Christmas Shoes: These Boots Were Made For Walkin’, Nancy Sinatra
• It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas: Atrocity Exhibition, Joy Division
• Home For The Holidays: Institutionalized, Suicidal Tendencies
• It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year: Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now, The Smiths
• Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer: Don’t Push Me, 50 Cent
• The Chipmunk Song: That’s When I Reach for My Revolver, Moby

How about you? Any songs in particular spurring you to spike your eggnog or jam candy canes into your ears? And what songs might you use to counteract?



¹ I did a bit of Christmas shopping yesterday, mostly looking for things like pajamas for the kids. I can’t even count how many times I heard Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is You.” All I wanted for Christmas shopping was a break from the treacly music. It was such a relief to get back to my car and put on my iPod. When Joy Division came up on shuffle, I knew I’d found an antidote to the ravages of holiday cheer.²

² For the record, I don’t actually hate holiday music. Some of it I actually like. I just can hear too much of it, especially when the songs are so saccharine that they make me throw up a little.³

³ Oh, fine, I do hate some holiday music.⁴

⁴ Would this be a good time to promote Neil’s Sixth Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert? I may even participate again. You’ve been warned.


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