Suzie’s House 466 : Holding Up the Wall
Holding up the wall. That’s what Martin used to call it. It was a manly way to be a wall flower. Except you needed a bottle of beer to make it look right. Walter shifted from one foot to the other. His hip hurt like it always seemed to these days, and he had trouble seeing over the shoulders of the five band members who had crowded into the sound room while the sixth member played drums. Still, it was better to be here than anywhere else in the world right now. He glanced at Drew, then leaned a little harder into the wall.
Sae Finneeeee
Say, “it’s finished”? I’d love to!
But actually, there’s a bit more to go on my vacation posts. The only thing I did was get through processing all the photos. It took just short of a year. The posts will push me to over a year as I still have over twenty to go. If I only post about it twice a week that makes two and a half months of Indonesia left. That’s not counting about a hundred random pictures that will probably be turning up on random, unrelated posts.
Then it’ll be time for another vacation! 😀
Last Thursday a few people asked why I was searching for tree bark. I was hunting for an ingredient in the kind of tea they serve in Indonesia. They served it everywhere from the nicest restaurants to a little shop on the side of a volcano. It has some interesting properties. Since I’d already posted about it, I didn’t make enough effort to explain myself. It’s been waaaaay too long since I mentioned it.
Actually, there were a few other things I meant to say about tea trees. I had always through tea grew on bushes. When I saw pictures of it being harvested, it looked like people in a vineyard, only bushier.
Turns out it’s a fairly normal tree. We saw one in the wild. It was about a story tall. The plantations keep them trimmed back for their own convenience. The one pictured above was a volunteer that rooted itself in a fence in Kasongan Village.
Friday Fictioneers Poll
Most of you know already that I participate in a blog hop called Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a short story based on the picture they provide in 100 words.
The hubmaster for the hop is currently occupied with promoting her books and getting the next one out. She does not feel she has the time to produce a new story each week. As a result she is re-running old pictures and the stories she wrote to go with them.
That was fine with me until we started getting into old pictures that I had already written stories for. I find I am… uninspired.
That leaves me with a decision to make. I’d love your help in making it.
[poll id=”22″]
Suzie’s House 465 : Listening Closely
I’m Not Always Wrong played through the headset. Bruce braced himself. A lot of times when you listened to a recording it didn’t sound anything near as good as what you thought it was to start with.
It wasn’t too bad. He looked around. Everyone else was kind of deadpan. I wasn’t sure if they were hiding reactions, or just didn’t know enough to have one. Emma glanced at him with a little worried wrinkle in her forehead. He gave her a thumbs up.
The recording was good. Real good. They sounded real, like they were right there. Good equipment really did make a difference.
Windy Roads
If you look closely at the picture above, you’ll see the road we were about to reach doubling back with a motorcycle on it. The road from Ubud to Lovinia was full of those kinds of twists and turns.
Spy vs Spy
Akbar leaned into the alley to make sure the way was clear. Good. No one would see as he dragged the body to the waiting camels. It would have gone off without a hitch if it weren’t for all the blood.
“Cut! Who left the blood trail from the previous take? It all has to be done again! Get that extra off the set. Come on, people. We’ve got deadlines to keep. Everyone ready? Take 52, and action!”
Akbar leaned into the alley.
The Challenge: Write a story in 100 words or less
The Hub: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Photo Credit: Jan Marler Morrill
Ulan Danu Bratan Temple aka Temple in the Mist
We went to Lovina from Ubud by bus. It’s a day’s drive. Apparently previous tourists had complained about being cramped in a bus for hours on end.
On one hand I’m used to road trips in which you might spend up to eighteen hours with stops only long enough to refill the gas tank and hit the bathroom. To me, this wasn’t even a real full day’s travel.
On the other hand I find I am less able to sit around as I get older. Inertia messes with a life just as much as it does with physics. A body that doesn’t get up and boogie every so often will eventually find it can no longer boogie at all. I don’t mind more time off the bus walking around.
The touring company’s response was to find a couple of stops along the way where we could wander around. Ulan Danu Bratan Temple is one such spot.
The temple was built in the 1600’s. Most of the buildings are still in their original forms. They are associated with a legend about a bad son of the chief who separated Bali and Java.
Suzie’s House 464 : Bruised Egos
“This is fantastic! I could get addicted to this,” Bruce grinned “How many songs have we done so far?”
“Just three.” Ever practical, Justin didn’t seem to be nearly as wowed by their studio recording as the rest were feeling.
Gene wasn’t so sure about any of this. He wasn’t even sure they were ready to do recordings at all, let alone trading commercial use of some of their songs for an album. Then again, he had been second guessing every decision he made since summer started.
Happy 4th!
I’m off to watch fireworks. Happy Independence Day my US friends. To everyone else, what have you been up to?
I learned a new grilling thing. You can make a modified chili relleno by putting the chili pods on the grill. They skin much better that way. Then stuff them with cheese and put right back on the grill just long enough to melt the cheese. It makes a very tasty no-batter chili relleno.
Shadow of a Ghost
The lace in the window of the old woman’s house sticks to a frozen window.
She used to say she never cried for ghosts, but maybe she should. Death is just a separation. She said she pitied the living more because their grief carried her away. But what of the dead? Would it not be worse for those who loose every connection they had than for those who only lost one?
“Any ghost that doesn’t move on to his or her reward is a fool,” she used to say.
Did she move on? The curtains move in a cold breeze.
The Challenge: Write a story in 100 words or less
The Hub: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Photo Credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Shadow Puppet Master
This is Wayan. The name Wayan comes from the word bayan, which means shadow. He is literally a national treasure. As one of Bali’s best puppeteers, and a member of the Indonesian puppeteer association with full honors, he is well respected.
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Suzie’s House 463 : Wallflowers
So Gene still had a problem with Suzie adopting him. Drew thought that whole thing was settled weeks ago.
What was there for the kid to complain about? He had come to Suzie’s house as an unruly kid from a violent, broken home. The way Gene had been forced to live would make anyone shudder.
In comparison Suzie must look like a saint. She had patience to burn, knew right from wrong, and cared about everyone in her life with a depth of devotion that took Drew’s breath away. There could be no comparison to a woman who ditched Gene when he was five.
