Sublime to ridiculous to...I don't even know what you'd call the last thing

Bethlehem High School Art students recently did a photography project at Five Rivers.  The results of their work (some of them very lovely) are now posted on Facebook.  You don't have to be a FB member to visit the page and have a look for yourself.  And if you're given the option to "like" Friends of Five Rivers, I hope you will.

Another, much sillier, Friends of Five Rivers-related effort is currently underway.  I got together with a couple of fellow Board members this afternoon to start work on an adult-sized owl costume.  We're hoping it will become a big hit at events like the Fall Festival, or down at the Farmers' Market,  Unfortunately, although the rest of the Board was in favour of us making the thing, I've yet to hear any of them volunteer to wear it...

And in other news...  The Girl has found a way to capitalise on her still-rather-British accent.  Constantly bugged to "Say something!", today she put up a sign at lunchtime that read: Will speak for food. 

Astonishingly, it worked. In return for saying "tomahhhto" she received a handful of trail-mix, pretzels and a rice-krispie treat. 

She's angling for a chicken nugget tomorrow.

And they call it a pushbike because...

The Man had the car today, and I needed to get to Five Rivers to collect something.  It was chucking it down with rain, but I gamely pulled on all my waterproofs and jumped on my bike.

It could have been worse - the rain was warm at least (weirdly warm for the end of November, frankly).  So even though my glasses got fogged up, cycling wasn't so bad - until the last leg, when I got a puncture.  I had to push the bike the rest of the way there, and later (sigh) all the way home again.  But I did, meanwhile,  manage to fill my rucksack with a lot of furry creatures.  More on them another time.

Strange thing - although it really is unseasonably warm, every evening I start shivering and my hands turn ice-cold.  My feet, too - I have to sleep in socks.  What am I going to be like in January?

Smell check

The Boy and a friend are planning to take part in their school's annual Science Fair later this week.  After, reasonably enough, rejecting all my worthy (though Pokemon-related) suggestions, they came up with their own idea for a project.

It involves creating horrible smells.  Who'd have dreamt a couple of nine year-old boys would think of something like that?

They've done a bit of work towards it, but not nearly enough considering they'll have to give a presentation in three days time. So  I've suggested the friend (T) comes home to work on it with the Boy after school this week.  This will be fine, it seems, though the Boy points out that really they should be going to T's house - "Because he has mouthwash."

Sounds ominous - but I guess it could be worse.

Ice magic

This evening the Girl performed solo in her very first skating show.

Wow! 

Nervous?  I'd say so.  The Girl wasn't feeling too relaxed, either.  But when she skated out to take up her starting position, with all that empty ice around her, you'd have thought she'd performed a million times before. She wore a big smile and just looked the part. 

Her one-minute programme was relatively simple (though I couldn't have done it).  She says she made mistakes, but I can't say we noticed.  The Man and I have both watched her rehearse so we're familiar with her routine, and to us she looked pretty darned great tonight.

So, good job, Girl!  You've made your parents very proud.

Cultivating grassroots

Sorry to keep going on about it, but the Fair Trade Market has rather been dominating my life lately.  We were back in business again this morning.

Customers poured through the doors again, and many of them mentioned that they'd learnt about the event from the TV last night.  So despite my misgivings, it turns out to be true: all publicity is good publicity.

We were only supposed to be open until noon, but ended up extending that as people kept arriving. I kept a rough tally. By the time we finally did shut the doors, it showed that a thousand people had visited over the course of the two days - including another (more benign) TV reporter.  Vendors had another great day of sales - tables that were groaning with crafts at the start of the market were looking quite sparse by the end.  Meanwhile shoppers left happy, clutching bulging bags of goodies.  I've no idea yet how much money changed hands, but do know that it will be benefiting a whole lot of artisans and communities around the world.

In the midst of all this conscious consumerism I got to chat with a few people with their own FT projects in mind.  One person is promoting FT fundraisers at her church and at a couple of nearby schools; there's a woman who'd like to put on a FT market next year at her kids' school on the other side of Albany; and I met two members of a recently formed fair trade club at the local high school. 

It looks like we've got a pretty healthy grassroots movement growing round here...

Fairly controversial

We were steadily busy all day at the Black Friday Fair Trade Market.  I reckon about 600 visitors came through the doors.  Hardly anyone left empty-handed, and stallholders reported good sales.  Sitting by the entrance, the comment I heard most often as people entered the room was "Wow!" - everything looked so lovely.

We even had a visit from a local TV news station, interested to tell a different Black Friday story from the usual crowds-at-the-mall report. 

It could have been a wholly positive, good news piece about how sales of the fair trade products at our market are positively impacting the lives of some of the world's most disadvantaged people.  Instead the reporter chose to focus on an emerging controversy that mainly concerns fair trade coffee certification (and not FT crafts at all).  She was probably inspired by this article.  If you read the article carefully you'll appreciate that it's a very complex issue.  Alas, a one-minute TV report doesn't allow for too much complexity.  Still, I'm hoping enough viewers will see past an implied message that "you can't trust fair trade" and come to our market anyway.

Good life

Thanksgiving is the time when Americans try hardest to get together with extended family.  Well, that isn't an easy option for us, so we just got together with ourselves.  We had a good day.

Among our activities there was a visit to Five Rivers, and also the playpark where the Boy (intentionally) staged a re-enactment of the Man's infamous head-cracking incident.  I baked some gingerbread cupcakes as well as a stonking all-the-trimmings-but-none-of-the-turkey feast.  The Girl helped us make investments on a microloan website called Kiva, which she's been introduced to at school and seems like a Good Thing. 

And the Boy devised an intriguing and deeply frustrating 3D boardgame inspired by Pokemon.  Pinching the idea from another game we have, his homemade die only had numbers from 0-3, so progress was slow -  especially since every other square you landed on told you to miss a turn, two turns or even, go back 5 spaces and miss 2 turns.  We all had a good laugh (and vowed never to play it again). 

Thanksgiving eve

This afternoon we got the Fair Trade Market set up - well ahead of time because everyone will be busy tomorrow with Thanksgiving, and on Friday we open for business promptly at 9am. (This is comparatively late - at least one large retail outet opens at midnight on Thanksgiving for Black Friday, to the horror and dismay of its badly treated staff).

It's all looking very lovely, and I'm excited to see how the whole event unfolds.

The rest of the day I'd spent with my refugee friends - starting out on a simple errand, which became more complicated (thanks to some impenetrable bureaucracy) and ended up taking several hours.  They are a very nice family.  I do feel for them, trying to fit into their new and alien environment, and still struggling with the language.  It can be taxing to be surrounded by a language and culture you hardly understand.  You're never entirely sure what's going on.  It's like living inside a bubble - you don't quite feel part of the world around you.  Just being is tiring.

And the passing of any busy day is tiring, too, of course.  There's been a lot of falling asleep on couches going in our house this evening.  The first (among many) things I shall be feeling thankful for tomorrow will be a little lie-in.

Another flagon of your fair trade finest, if you please...

Today I was pulling together a display for the upcoming Fair Trade Market (this Friday, 9am-3pm & Saturday 9am-noon at Delmar Reformed Church - in case you're in the area).  I've decided I want to give people four suggestions for simple ways to support fair trade, and have some materials out to illustrate each point. 

So for "Think Fair Trade when you shop" I have some product labels and store information.  And for one about introducing FT fundraisers to your school, community group etc, there are examples of ways to do that.  For the one inviting people to sign a FT Towns petition there is, originally enough, a petition to sign.  But how to illustrate "Share Fair Trade with your friends and family"?

Then suddenly, inspiration!  Of course - a sanctimonious mini-diorama! 

Feel free to supply your own alternative speech bubbles or caption.  I'm not proud...

You cannot be...Siri-us?

No pet for us, then (apologies to all my pet-owning friends whom I have probably alienated forever with last night's post).

However, it seems that Siri is fast becoming a fifth member of our family.  She now gets included in most of our deliberations, and responds with varying degrees of usefulness, eg on a hike yesterday when we spotted a red squirrel:

Man:  What can you tell me about red squirrels?
Siri:  I'm sorry. I can find no information about red square rolls.

She can be waggish:

Girl:  When is Christmas Day?
Siri:  Christmas Day is Sunday, December 25, 2011.  I hope you get the day off.
Girl:  When is Valentine's Day?
Siri:  Valentine's Day is Tuesday, February 14, 2012.  I hope I get the day off.

And then there was this little exchange:

Man:  What gift should I get my wife for Christmas?
Siri:  Here is a list of nearby gift stores.
Man: Thank you!
Siri:  I'm just doing my job...

And this:

Girl: Why do we have to go on a hike?
Siri:  I don't know.  Frankly, I was wondering that myself.

Siri's delivery is deadpan, downbeat even, in a way that seems oddly familiar.  We keep expecting a reference to "Brain the size of a planet".  For it could just be possible, couldn't it...that the sort of folks who'd have ended up programming Siri might also have read The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

Dowsing for dogs

No, of course we haven't gone and got a dog.  You didn't really believe that, did you?  Seriously, how long have you known me?  What on earth would possess me, or indeed anyone, to want an animal living in the house?

What's that?  You've just got a dog?  And you've got a new cat?  And even you've got your eye on an adorable little puppy/kitten/hamster (delete as applicable)?

Why oh why oh why?

I mean, it's not that I don't like animals - in fact I like them so much I don't even eat them.  I just don't want to live with one and have it chew up my stuff, fart under the table at mealtimes and need its poop picking up whenever it goes for a walk.  And don't tell me it teaches kids nurturing skills.  I know exactly who'd end up doing the "nurturing".

Nope, not for me. 

And BTW if I did, in a moment of madness, get a dog, I wouldn't choose a long-haired variety.  It's not like there aren't enough hairy creatures in our household already, yelping at me whenever I try to comb the knots out.



So, no. We were just looking after next door's old pooch while its owners were away for the weekend.  He's a nice enough, if diffident, little fellow. Well-behaved and no trouble really.  Well, I say that.  He was wandering about in our backyard and managed to get himself stuck under the deck. 

It's a big deck, with only one way under, not humanly accessible.  We had trouble locating him at all at first.  We had to employ ancient technologies...

He eventually appeared, trapped behind the trellis, and gazed at us inscrutably...

To extricate him we tried going state-of-the-art (we asked Siri how to get a dog out from under a deck.  She said she didn't know of any dog breeders near here.  Gee, thanks, Siri).

After twenty minutes or so the Boy, with much coaxing, managed to lure the doggie out with half a biscuit. 

Back in the house he kept an eye out for his owners. When they came to collect him this evening he shot out of our front door without a backward glance.  As a house-guest he was so silent and capable of merging into the background that you could actually trip over him while looking for him, and yet now the Boy is going around sighing and claiming that "The house just feels too quiet without him!"

Market marketing

I spent the morning at the Farmers' Market promoting the Fair Trade event I'm involved with next week.  I'd collected together an assortment of items we'll be selling - bags and beads from Malawi and Uganda, textiles from Guatemala, pottery from Vietnam, a T-shirt from India, etc etc - and set them out in a rather nice arrangement.

The Market manager always lets me (and other not-for-profit groups) have an information table for free, as long as I don't sell anything.  So I just stood there shouting "Curm on, ladies and gents - luverly crafts! Don't get 'em 'ere, they're not for sale."  Next to a sign marked CRAFT'S.

I had a fun time, talking to lots of people and handing out flyers.  About a third of the people I spoke to had our Black Friday Fair Trade sale on their calendars already and were eagerly awaiting it.  Another third had vaguely heard about it and were happy to have more details.  A final third knew nothing about it, but most were pleased to be told.  So it all felt like a positive exercise.

And in other news: today we got ourselves a dog!

Space / the phonal front-ear

The Man accuses me of being a "lady who ice-creams".  True, in a way, though today I was accompanied by three 4th Grade boys and a Girl on a bike, and the object of the exercise (to my mind) was less about the frozen dessert and more about the half-mile trek to the creamery and back again.

No-one wants to talk to me on these ice-cream outings - the boys hang out together and have obscure Pokemon-related conversations, and the Girl sticks her nose in a book - but happily this afternoon that gave me the opportunity to read another chapter of Packing for Mars by Mary Roach, which is a very entertaining book about the prosaic practicalities of space travel.  If you like Bill Bryson at all you will probably like Roach. If you like Bryson but find he gets a wee bit irritating sometimes, you might like Roach more, because she's less so.  And if you can't read more than a page of any Bill Bryson book without wanting to hurl it across the room (I have met such people) - ok, you should probably leave Packing for Mars alone.

The rest of the family is currently squished on the couch watching YouTube videos of Mr Bean.  The Boy is laughing like a drain - but not quite as hard as he laughs at the Man's new work iPhone and Siri, a magical disembodied voice that apparently lives in the phone.  She's like an all-knowing fairy or something, except we're not convinced she really does know all that much. The kids love to torment her by asking her impossible questions then mocking her puzzled responses.  Eventually, though, she gets shirty.  When she repeatedly couldn't understand one of the Girl's questions and my charming daughter accused her of being "a hard-of-hearing piece of machinery" Siri (quite reasonably) told her to "Kindly keep your opinions to yourself!"

Holy cow!

I was at the Boy's school this evening, for something called the Turkey Shoot. 

This is not when they march a load of elementary school kids out onto the grounds and let them take potshots at turkeys.  It's more of a basketball-related event.  Kids pay a dollar to shoot ten hoops.  In days past, the kid who got the most baskets would win a turkey (it's Thanksgiving next week, of course).  These days, if you get ten baskets you win a ball.

The Boy didn't participate in the hoop shooting.  Being a bit vertically challenged, basketball isn't really his strong suit.  But he bobbed around with his mates, enjoyed some cheap snacks in the cafeteria (ice-cream and crisps - mm, all the food groups!) and bought a couple of items at a book fair.  The combination of food, basketball and books means that the event is sometimes billed as "Eat, shoot and read", which is quite a clever reference, but only if you've ever heard of  that panda joke or Lynne Truss's book.

Anyway, I was there flogging fair trade bracelets again.  I did reasonably well, considering I was competing for punters' cash with the world's absolutely most desirable raffle item:

Wednesday wonders

I've had a fun day. 

This morning I was visiting my refugee friends.  They cooked a late breakfast of rice and fish and vegetables and we sat on the floor around a low table and ate with our fingers, and it reminded me of other times and places in my life. 

This afternoon I was with the co-planners of an upcoming fair trade market - a reprise of our successful event last year.  We got the hall mapped out for the vendors' tables, and we also took inventory of three large cartons of crafts that we'll be selling.  So exciting, unpacking mystery boxes filled with pretty ornaments and instruments and cooking pots and baskets...

And finally, I spent this evening at Five Rivers, where the Friends were holding their Annual Meeting.  The invited speaker was Dr. Roland Kays, Curator of Mammals at the New York State Museum.  He gave us a lively presentation on camera-trapping - not how to trap errant cameras, but how to use fixed-position cameras with heat/motion sensors to capture images of creatures in the wild.  He had an infectious enthusiasm for the subject, and particularly for the potential of "citizen science" projects to study and collect information about mammals to be added to an international database.  Projects based at venues like...Five Rivers?  I hope so - it would be pretty cool.

Hairy happenings

So there I was at the hairdressers this afternoon, busily (well, not that busily. I was just sitting there) being transformed from this back to this, and at the very same time just along the road - only two doors down! - an actual armed robbery was going on.

Blimey! 

I came out of the salon and noticed rather a lot of police vehicles strewn about outside a bank.  But I was in a hurry to pick up something from the pharmacy across the road, and it was only while I was waiting in the (surprisingly long) queue in there that I heard the story from another customer.

It quite got everyone chatting, I can tell you. 

It seems that no-one was hurt, so that's good.  But I'm sure the bank employees were terrified, which isn't good.  And the gunman/robber got away and is still on the loose, so that's not good at all.  I shall keep you posted if I hear any more.

I have seen the future...

...and it's small.

Taking advantage of the continuing Nanovember season, I was back at CNSE this evening to hear the college's Senior Vice President, CEO and founder, Alain Kaloyeros, give a lecture.

It was a powerpointy thing, interspersed with humorous video clips - clearly he was pitching somewhat at the layman (that'd be me).  He made a good case for the importance and pervasiveness of nanotechnology now, never mind in our futures - it has multiple medical applications, as well as enabling smartphones and i-pads and all that computer stuff.  By the middle of this century, the average laptop will have more computational capacity than the whole of humankind (although laptops themselves will be old hat - before 2020 we'll all be carrying computer pens that will slot into a docking station and project an interactive screen onto the wall and a keyboard onto the desk). 

Kaloyeros implied that anyone who is anyone (or at least, who wants to earn any money) had better get themselves a degree and be part of the nano-revolution.  Geeks shall inherit the earth etc, fill our lives with unimaginably cool technology and incidentally cure all our diseases and possibly even death.

I'm impressed and, I'll admit, a bit put off by the vision of the future he laid before us.  I'm even a bit put off by the present, truth be told. 

A little bit Grand

The Man had found a website that described the Plotter Kill Preserve as "the Capital Region's Grand Canyon".  So we thought we'd better go back and take another look, and this time explore the main trail.

Not entirely to our surprise, it turns out Plotter Kill is the Capital Region's Grand Canyon in the same way that Cohoes Falls is the Capital Region's Niagara, or Five Rivers Environmental Center is the Capital Region's Yellowstone (there is wildlife there, and you might just happen to run into an old geezer).  But it provided us with an energetic hike, some waterfall views and a few adventures along the way, so that was all good.  Given our area's other, technological, claim to fame, I think it'd be fair to call it the "Nano Grand Canyon".

A step on the ladder

I spent the morning doing probably the single most useful thing I've done all year - helping my refugee mom get a library card.  There've been some administrative hoops to jump through which means the process has taken a while, but she is now at last a proud cardholder.  She was able to come home from the Main Library in Albany with an armload of books, audiobooks and DVDs for her whole family.  I'm sure they're all going to find it a great resource.

While I was out doing that, the Girl spent some time hanging out with the kids in the family.  Language challenges notwithstanding, they seem to have had fun and I hope they'll be able to get together again soon.

This afternoon Boy and Girl were ensconced at different friends' houses, so the Man and I took ourselves up to the Indian Ladder Trail for probably the last time this season - in a couple of days' time it closes for the winter, i.e. until May.  Although it was nearing dusk the trail was busy - with other last-chancers like us I suppose.  It's always a dramatic trail, but now that most of the leaves are gone it's getting a little bleak.  Brrr. Winter really is on its way.

Let's get quizzical

The Amnesiacs were back in action again this evening at the local quiz night.  It started with a "Classic Rock" round that was somewhat challenging.  Next, "Sports", which always counts out three members of our team (two of us not being remotely interested in sports, and one having an encyclopedic knowledge of cricket and soccer matches from the early '70s to the present but no clue about NFL and baseball).  At least we salvaged some points on the table round, matching slogans to products (not that the Man and I contributed anything useful there, either).

At half time we were slightly behind the leaders.  Astonishingly, my friend J and I earned bonus points on the "Physical Challenge", which this week involved performing a short dance routine(!) to the theme music from hit comedy The Big Bang Theory.  Then "Movies" - shocking awful, only one correct answer out of ten - and finally a random general knowledge round, in which we didn't completely disgrace ourselves.

Final placement?  Hm, well, we came second again.  By one point. We're thinking of changing our name - to "Always the bridesmaids", perhaps, or just simply "The Runners-up".

Morning exercises

So, as I'd anticipated, I was thoroughly trounced at Pokeopoly this morning before I'd even had breakfast.  I "had my clock cleaned" to use the Man's favourite new expression, which he has picked up from a local politician who was beaten badly in this week's elections.  The Boy declares it's a much better game than our other versions of Monopoly (well, he would, wouldn't he), but does concede that he should probably only have been allowed to use the strongest Pokemon card once in the battle scenarios. 

Don't even ask.

It's been difficult to get the kids to bed tonight as they have the day off tomorrow (Veterans' Day).  Still, since there's no school we won't have the usual first-thing agony of trying to get the Girl out of bed in time to catch the bus - hooray!  But then again, since there's no school she'll no doubt be up merrily at the crack of dawn all of her own accord - ain't that always the way?

Or maybe we could call it Monemon?

Spent the day doing volunteery good works of one kind and another.  But rather than blind you with the dazzling shininess of my halo, here's a photo of Pokeopoly, the debut match.

I'm (still) playing against the Boy, the game's inventor.  The game has familiar elements of Monopoly, cleverly integrated with baffling elements of Pokemon, and even though I've just acquired the most expensive set of Poke-properties I'm actually pretty confident that (*sigh*) someone else is going to win.

Getting fresh with a new squeeze

Well, we had that snow in October, and now we do indeed seem to be in the heatwave I'd been waiting for.  Up in the mid-to-high 60sF today - T-shirt weather again.  Leaf-raking in the yard in the warm sunshine was quite a pleasure.

The kids were off school because of local elections.  The Boy spent much of his day with a classmate designing a new board game: Pokeopoly.  The Girl and I made a trip to the mall.

I don't much care for Crossgates mega-mall, especially since Borders went bankrupt and shut down (not that I even liked Borders that much).  But it is good for some things, such as a pair of "soakers" - towelling guards for the Girl's skate blades.  Also, right next door to Dick's Sporting Goods where we bought the soakers, a new Fresh Healthy Cafe has opened.  As the name hints, it serves fresh and healthy food (including lots of veggie options), which is a nice change from the usual mall fare of hotdogs, fries, average Chinese food etc.  The Girl reckons it serves the best freshly squeezed orange juice EVER (at more than $5 per medium glass, so you'd hope).  I did sneak a sip, and yum, it was good.

Early night

Our clocks went back yesterday.  We arrived at the Breakneck Ridge trailhead mid-afternoon, and climbed up to a blue sky...

..but by 4 o'clock we were descending with the sun...

...and about an hour later, in the nearby town of Cold Spring, we watched as dusk darkened the Hudson.

A ridge too far?

It has been a beautiful day - perfect for a trip to Breakneck Ridge, which we first visited about eighteen months ago.

The journey took longer than I remembered.  It was also much busier there than the time before (though still hardly Piccadilly Circus).  We only climbed about halfway up, to the flagpole, but that was pretty tiring, and the trail down was challenging with the ground covered in slippery fallen leaves. 

It's a great shame that many of the rockfaces have been spoiled by grafitti.  I just can't get into the mind of someone who thinks it's a cool idea to climb to a place of stunning natural beauty and deface it with spraypaint. But the views were as wonderful as before - it really is a special trail.

Bridge to Nanowhere

Albany NY is an international hub for nanotechnology.  Billions of dollars have been spent on flagship buildings, state-of-the-art clean rooms, and on wooing nano-tech companies from around the world to set up in business here.  Locally most people seem to regard it as a Good Thing, for providing jobs and attracting kudos to the region.

Every November - or "Nanovember" as they have renamed it - CNSE (the College of Nanoscale Science & Engineering) opens its doors and invites the public in to find out what it's all about.  There's a lecture series, and on the first Saturday of the month a "Family Day".  Our family went along today.

There were lots of vaguely nano-related fun things to do: creating "bucky balls", threading UV-sensitive beads that change colour in sunlight, making polymers, playing video-games (our kids were particularly drawn to classic Pacman).  We attended a presentation which explained how nanotechnology is a part of all our lives now, from our clothes and make-up to our hip-replacements and pace-makers, and how it is revolutionising computers in particular (hence those video games).  There were demonstrations of DNA testing and water-repellent sand.  Some of us took a guided tour.  And to top it all there was free popcorn - probably not very nano-related, but nevertheless appreciated.

CNSE is in the process of expanding, with a huge new building going up.  So that the scientists and students don't have to risk life and limb dodging the traffic on the busy Washington Ave Extension that runs between the old and new buildings, they're installing a bridge.  In fact they started putting it up today - we caught a glimpse.

Where did she get that hat?

So, back to Bolivia.

Emilia Laime Vidal is of the Quechua, an indigenous Andean people.  She lives in a mountain village, Arani.  It used to be a fertile place, famous for its strawberry and watermelon crops, but now almost nothing grows there.  Since the 1980s the tropical glaciers that provided ground water for the whole area have been retreating, and the water is drying up.  For several months of the year, until the rains come, the villagers ration what little water there is.  Every twenty days, Emilia's family have 45 minutes in which to collect all the water they can in containers.  It has to last them, for all their needs, until it's their turn again after another twenty days.

The canary in the climate change coalmine, Bolivia has been feeling the effects of global warming for some time. 

Emilia is no stranger to hardship.  Her mother died when she was young, and her father went to look for work in Argentina. Though she desperately wanted to study, her grandmother didn't believe it was worthwhile educating a girl.  And anyway, there wasn't the money.  When the choice came between pencils and books or buying food - well, it wasn't really a choice.  She dropped out of school.

She ended up work for a knitting company in the city.  But meanwhile she siezed every opportunity she could to study, and took courses on women's empowerment, the rights of workers and indigenous people, business studies.  She was one of several women who eventually walked out of the factory because they felt they were being exploited.  In Arani she set up her own knitting cooperative, La Imillia.  In its heyday there were 75 members.

The knitting is exquisite - tiny, perfect stitches creating garments out of the most luxurious alpaca wool.  La Imillia received orders from overseas, and all was going well.  Then a major customer went bankrupt and left the women of the cooperative high and dry.  Many left.  There are now just 11 knitters in the cooperative.

They keep going.  Through Tamara, who runs Kusikuy - a Fair Trade company - they receive orders, some of which are for high-end NYC boutiques.  But orders are tailing off and they struggle.  They have a compound which they built for the cooperative and they'd like to supplement their income by running it as a hotel and bakery, but it's impossible without water.  They need a well, but can't afford to build one.

Emilia, soft-spoken and gentle, is clearly as tough and determined as they come, though.  She's a leading figure in the national Association of Businesswomen, as head of a vast regional delegation and accountant for the whole group.  She said that at first the city women didn't respect her because she always wears traditional dress - the full skirt and pleated blouse in the picture, a shawl and, of course, her hat.  But she soon let them know that she meant business and wasn't just some little know-nothing lady from the mountains.  Her next plan is to open a store in the city, hoping to create a market there for her amazing knitting.

Emilia's determination to educate herself has stayed with her, too.  She's 61 years old, and last year she attained her high school diploma.  When she made that known in one of the talks on Wednesday, her high school audience broke into spontaneous applause.

And where did she get that hat?  Well, it's traditional, 25 years old, and they literally don't make them like that anymore.  The base is crocheted in fine cotton thread, then covered in wood glue.  Finally it is covered in a layer of plaster and polished.  I have never seen or heard of a hat like it.  I would look a fool in a hat like that - but Emilia?  She looked splendid.

Lip Sync

All things Bolivian are going to have to wait again, alas. The thoughts I'd collected on that have been temporarily blasted out of my head by...the glory of the Lip Sync.

Lip Sync is an all-dancing extravaganza featuring a cast of thousands that is put on by the Boy's elementary school every other year (I think it's a standard at some other local elementary schools, too).  Teams of kids from about 3rd Grade and up form teams, choose a song and make up a dance routine, which they perform on stage in fabulously well coordinated costumes.  They train for weeks.

It's all voluntary, so of course the Boy didn't sign up. But he did come along to watch some of his dude friends performing to Another One Bites the Dust.  They looked very cool in baseball caps and dark glasses (which suddenly lit up with flashing lights!). 

Musical choices were varied, from Miley Cyrus through Surfin' USA to Puttin' on the Ritz, with the Gummy Bear Song thrown in too. The showstopper of the night was All the Single Ladies - a highly choreographed routine worked out by someone who is clearly a big fan of Glee.  Then the staff performed a "Dance through the Decades" (Dancing Queen, Footloose etc), which of course brought the house down, and actually was really good.

The kids all seemed to be having the time of their lives.  The lavish High School auditorium was standing room only.  I may not have had a kid performing, but it was still quite a night.

La tejedora de Bolivia

I have had a full-on, fascinating and very enjoyable day, mostly spent with a delightful woman named Emilia from Bolivia. She is in the States to promote her knitting cooperative, and to share some of her experiences as an indigenous native of a country we don't generally hear much about.  I'll have quite a lot to write about her, but need to get my thoughts in order so I shall save most of it until tomorrow. 

She was travelling with her friend and business associate, Tamara, from Vermont.  Tamara, fortunately, is fluent in Spanish and did a great deal of interpreting today.  I accompanied the two of them to three speaking events - at Bethlehem High School, Siena College and the Spinning Room yarn store in Altamont, which was having a knit-in.  Each audience was rather different, and the presentations were tuned to fit them, so by seeing each one I ended up learning all sorts of information arrived at from different directions.

Tomorrow, then, I shall tell you about global warming's "canary in the coalmine"; the extraordinary achievements of an understated but very determined woman; and the story of a very striking hat.

Post haste

I had another home day today, doing jobs of one kind and another - like raking leaves, now that all the snow has melted.  We still haven't succumbed to a leaf-blower, but in any case a rake is better exercise and more sociable.  Neighbours from both sides stopped to chat as I scratched away at the front lawn.  The family on one side revealed that last night they'd been trick-or-treating as almost the entire cast of Harry Potter - well, Harry, Hermione and Professor McGonagall anyway.  Sadly the kids hadn't managed to persuade their dad to dress up as Dumbledore.  If it was long-bearded company they were after they should have taken the Boy's best buddy, who went out dressed as an off-season Santa Claus.

I don't remember ever trick-or-treating as a child, and just a few years ago in Linton when the kids were little it still seemed quite a low-key thing.  I wonder how it is these days, if Britain has bought into it wholesale yet?  Not that there's time still to be thinking about Halloween.  Many of you reading this will no doubt be looking forward to Bonfire Night soon.  And as the Man pointed out yesterday, before we know it it'll be last posting date for Christmas cards to the UK.  (Don't hold your breaths, by the way. Just because I've written that down, doesn't mean I won't end up missing the deadline anyway.)