Ramayana Ballet
I’ve been recounting my vacation in Indonesia in more or less chronological order. Today I’m going to jump around a little bit because I still have another 13 pictures to share from the Prambanan Temple complex, but I also have events the next day for which I have few if any good pictures. Probably the worst was the Ramayana Ballet.
Prambanan Temple Complex
This week I’m just going to do 13 pictures from the Prambanan Temple Complex, which is just a relatively short drive from Candi Sambisari.
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Suzie’s House 440 : Emma’s Song I
Emma got to the practice room before any of the other band members. She sat on the chair in front of Kate’s drums for a few minutes. She was tempted to give the drums a thump, but Kate would probably have a hissy fit. She didn’t even like it when her boyfriend, Justin, borrowed them, and he actually knew what he was doing.
I Write Like
It’s click bait. Only it’s the way click bait should be, with something of actual interest on the other side of the click.
I happened to notice a button on someone’s blog this weekend. It’s a program that supposedly matches your writing style to that of famous writers.
The first thing I put in was my Friday Fictioneer’s post, “Stairway to Heaven”. The result – I write like Steven King.
Well, I can sort of see that. But I suspect the analysis is at least partly a result of the tone I was going for. So I thought I better try it again.
I put in my entire Candi Sambisara post. Apparently that one is like James Joyce.
Well, that’s not fair either since it isn’t even fiction. And just who am I really like? What could I put in that would be most likely to give an accurate result?
Of course! Suzie’s House. I pasted in the most resent episode. Which would it be? Steven King or James Joyce?
Neither. I write like Margaret Atwood.
The thing is, I’m pretty sure I write like me no matter which post I’m writing. It was fun to play, but I’m giving up on comparing myself to anyone.
Stairway to Heaven
“What are you going to show me? Where is it?” Alicia followed a step or two behind Sally as they walked through the woods.
“This way.” Sally strode along with confidence.
They reached a stairway leading up the side of a hill. Sally didn’t even slow down. Despite how cracked and old the steps or rusty the railing, she went right up. Alicia followed a bit slower. At the top she tried to take in the view, but panted too much.
“Is. This. It?”
“No. What I wanted to show you is how many calories it takes to burn off the cookie you stole from my plate.”
The Hub: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Photo credit: Amy Reese
Candi Sambisara
Candi Sambisara was the first of many temples we visited on this trip. It was also the first serious test of my trekking poles. For the first few minutes it scared me spitless. There I stood at the top of a hundred steps, no railing, and a left hip with no cartilage left.
After all I’d been through the year before I was painfully aware that I no longer knew what I was or was not capable of. I couldn’t be sure my leg wouldn’t buckle under me and send be tumbling down the steps. I broke out in a cold sweat, but there was no way I was going to wuss out when the temple lay right in front of me.
Suzie’s House 439 : Dumpster Diving Daughter
“It’s weird,” Emma said to Tracy and Gene as they left the studio. She was thinking about her father.
“What? The guitar thing?” Tracy arched her eyebrows.
“N- no, no. I think you and Gene switching is a good idea. I, I mean, you and me do more egging each other on anyway, right? So him playing bass and you guitar makes more sense. I… I think.”
“So, you don’t think we’re lame?” Gene actually said something. Usually he just kind of nodded at the right time.
Snack Time
After our walk around Kasongan Village we went to our hotel. Despite all the pictures I took, I have very little to show of the various places we stayed. More is the pity, as we stayed in some wonderful hotels. Often the decorations were wonderful. More often than not there would be something to eat in our room.
I’m not talking a wafer thin chocolate here. I mean mostly fruit. I’m sure your recognize most of what’s in the picture at the top. Grapes, an apple, and the bananas. Several times we were given bananas which were about a third the length I generally find in the grocery store, but tasted the same otherwise.
Can you guess what the one on the right of the bananas is? How about what’s in the tray on the far right?
The brown scaly fruit is called dragon fruit. The outside is very thin and scaly. The inside always has three sections. It’s sweet and a touch floral and a bit nutty. Yum!!! I tried to import some seed, but they all split in the suitcase. I guess radiation will do that to a seed. Just as well. The trees are even more intimidating than the fruit since it’s covered long thorns. With my cold, long winters I didn’t have much of a chance anyway.
That isn’t sushi in the tray to the far right. It’s a candy made to look like sushi. We didn’t realize that for over a day and so didn’t eat it at first. Then I couldn’t because of the chocolate. Oh well. I was on a diet anyway.
Speaking of which, I haven’t lost any more weight, but I haven’t gained it back either. I’m so proud of me. I have every intention of counting the calories again. Yep. Any day now….
First Flight
“What was that?” The young man seated next to Marge on the plane that was supposed to take them from Rinca Island to Bali gripped the armrests with white knuckles. It was the third time he had flinched since he sat down.
“Whatever it was, I’m sure it wasn’t important.” Marge flipped through the in-flight magazine. She thought she might need to order a bourbon despite the short flight because of his nerves.
“How do you know?” He looked at her with abject panic.
“Because we haven’t left the ground yet.”
The Hub: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Photo credit: Melanie Greenwood
Textiles in Kasongan Village
After we left the first pottery place in Kasongan village we went up an alley and came in the back door of a combination fabric and hat making operation.
It was an odd place. The fabric was in an area that looked like a three sided car port with one side open not to the street but to the porch of the house it was attached to. Inside this area a couple of women worked industriously at decorating fabric.
I’m a big fan of batik. I even brought a little extra money with me with the intention of picking some up along the way. Although batik might have been part of the process, that wasn’t what these women were about.
They were gluing glitter to fabric. Lots of glitter. Lots and lots of glitter.
The Girl has taken a few art classes in high school. Quoting her teacher, she once said that glitter is the herpes of the art world and should be avoided at all costs.
So of course I bought some. I couldn’t help myself. It’s really pretty glitter!
Suzie’s House 438: Conversation Bombs
As much as Emma loved her father, she wasn’t exactly eager to confront him at the crack of dawn as she was headed for the bathroom to shower the smell of cigarette smoke off of her skin and hair. She could too easily imagine him driving himself into a self righteous frenzy over what he must see as her bad behavior. But it wasn’t like she’d been smoking herself. And if she’d been in a bar, it was only to play in the band, not to sit around and guzzle beer. Besides, for all she knew, he could have spent all that time away from home doing the sitting and guzzling.
But when he called out in that lonesome voice and said he needed to talk, she couldn’t ignore him.
New Years 2016
Did you have a good New Years Eve this year? Mine was tamer than ever. I haven’t been to a New Years party in a loooooong time. Even in my 20’s I did fewer and fewer of them. But for many years I went out for dinner and a movie.
This time we didn’t even do that. I’d caught a special on a package of meat at the grocery store, and didn’t want it to go to waste, so we didn’t bother with restaurant reservations. Totally forgot about the movies, and I tend to only do that because Mr. Al is a fan. He wasn’t interested.
The Girl didn’t have any particular plans either. No parties or special plans. we all just kind of hung out until midnight, then drank sparkling fruit juice.
Though I often stay up well past midnight, I had to make an effort on New Years Eve, and almost just went to bed anyway. If I’d been alone, I’m sure I would have.
