Crunchy ‘Nanas

In response to my post of crocuses from Kew Gardens and Crunchy husband’s response to that post, my mother sent this note:

“hi, spring has sprung here also, and here’s where our flowers is!”

and this picture:

Spring 2008: San Jose, Ca, USA

Is spring springing where you are? Send me a picture and we can make a virtual garden of spring 2008 around the world. (Or, if you’re in the Southern Hemisphere, send me a shot of fall falling.)

Pretty soon the Brits are going to have to stop erecting buildings out of bricks. We had another earthquake last night. Unlike the last one, I didn’t see it coming. But, it was pretty strong. The epicenter (5.2 on the Richter scale) was located in Lincolnshire, but I felt it down here. (I was still awake though. I don’t think I would have felt it if I had gotten to sleep at a normal time last night.)

I woke to a text this morning: What, you miss California so much you gotta bring the earthquakes with you?

Perhaps. (They are my first “football” team, and they are coming home. Again. Or, again, again.)

If you are usually one of the sweaty screaming fans, bouncing and dancing yourself into a frenzy, U2 3D is difficult to experience in a static theater environment. What was I supposed to do with my hands? I was conflicted, confused. The raving, energetic fan inside me wrestled with British cinema decorum. What was natural—hands waving above my head, palms clapping, wrists rolling and fingers snapping—was definitely not acceptable at the Waterloo IMAX. I glanced around. It quickly became clear that singing your heart out back to the band was not going to be well received. Even when you’re supposed to pump your fist in the air and belt “Pride,” I contented myself with a head bounce, toe tap, and thigh drum. (And yeah, there might have been some lip sync action going on.) When Bono yells “on the guitar- the Edge!,” I need to scream my approval back to the stage. Instead, I bit my tongue and sat quietly, pondering the wonderful existence that is David Evans, and watched him strum his sparkly guitar masterfully.

Despite the constrictive atmosphere and the fact that it was way too short (did they not have enough footage for at least an hour and a half? Come on!), holy moly, was it good. Not better than a live show, but different. You don’t get the intimate feeling at a live show (unless you’re really, really lucky) that Bono really can, and will, wipe your tears away during Sunday Bloody Sunday. You don’t get to fly over Larry Mullen, Jr. while he beats his drums or get up close and personal with Adam Clayton’s bass. Ticket prices are never £12. And even though it wasn’t live, the emotions, energy and power shone through just as well. I got the chills in all the usual spots and even in some new ones. But, I left thinking it would have been better if they had done more with the 3D (I think it would have been good if Bono had wacked me with that mic stand) and the wish that they had done this for one of their earlier tours that had more theatrics (hard to please, I know).

But, we got back to the car and I got to rock out the whole way home so everything was fine. I hope this is the beginning of a good year for the band, with the new album in the fall and hopefully a tour to follow. (I am sure that’s all part of the plan, as if these guys need to market themselves). Rock on!

Crocuses, Kew Gardens

It is 9 degrees C here today. Woo-hoo! We went out for a beach run at low tide on Saturday and it was so cold. So, incredibly cold. It is hard to run when you can’t feel your feet. Really, really hard. The balls of my feet, the only parts I had any feeling in at all, kept feeling like they were pounding boulders. The day’s saving grace was the bright sunshine. It didn’t warm me, but it did make me feel happy so I didn’t turn around a mile 0.01. By the end of the run, I was hot and bouncing. (I think part of me was really excited about getting into my wellies and going out on the rocks!)

In other good news, I am now an official card-carrying member of the Deal Tri Club. Work it! I’m hoping I will meet people that I can connect with and have fun with. Sometimes I feel like I have all this pent up social energy and nowhere to direct it. I am hopeful.

Here in the Crunchy household, we like to give Crunchy husband gyp about his pronunciation of common Spanish words. (You have to realize when I say this that my Spanish is absolute crap, so really it’s just light-hearted fun. And he gets his own back when we go to France.) It’s just one part of our ever-expanding blend of American and British English lingoes, pronunciations and styles. (Our kids are going to be so messed up.) With him, salsa is sælsa and tacos become tæcos (æ= picture how you would say the a sound in apple). He claims it is his rebellion against the posh English “ah” sound, which I believe. After all, he says things like e’yup and gi-ya ring later (give without the v sound). He’s my tractor boy through and through. When we go out with friends, they like to say things like fa-gee-ta and ja-la-pee-nos (j sounds) just to rile me up.

But what I heard this morning tops anything they have ever said. The DJ on the radio was talking about Madonna and ended by introducing the song. Now, I know my Madonna. But there was a brief moment I had no clue what song she was talking about. All I heard was the middle word, foreign in more than one sense of the word.

“Here you go, here’s ‘la eye-sluh bonita’.”

It would have made Crunchy husband’s heart burst from his chest, swollen with pride.

How fun does this sound? The BBC’s going to attach audio equipment to volunteers to capture the sounds of the race down where the action is taking place.

Mike, over at Complete Running, just posted an article about how chatty the back of the pack is. I wonder if we’ll be able to recognize the differences between the front and the back from this.

This reminds me, I never posted the video I took during the Paris-Versailles 10 mile road race I did back in September. I’d just like you to know I’ve struggled with youtube and cannot get the thing to upload right (really folks, there’s hair all over the floor here), so don’t hold your breath. Sorry. But really, you’re not missing much. It was shaky and horrible. Maybe the next time, I can wrangle a steady-cam out of the ‘beeb!