Good Eats

Thanks to the virtually endless patience and benevolence of Aunt Shu and Dr. Paul, Chris and I were able to indulge in a fabulous evening out as well as fun independent adventures this weekend.  While the home front looked mostly like this...

and this...

(is anyone surprised?)

... Chris and I started out with a hike at Boxerwood Gardens  in the twilight and the rain.  The place is such a gem  - acres and acres of carefully thought out wild space, open to the public to explore and enjoy.  The kids and I spend at least one afternoon there each week, rambling around with other homeschool families.  I especially enjoyed our most recent outing there as the hour and the weather conspired to turn the landscape into something out of Lord of the Rings.  Quiet time with the spouse person out in the wide world is something I have far to little of - such a gift to be able to make it happen.  

We then popped into our neighbor's cafe for a beer.  Happily we also discovered a great guitar player doing Travis Tritt covers and Debbie's amazing pomegranate guacamole.

Above is  a picture from the web that pales in comparison to Debbie's beautiful intermingling of avocado chunks, pomegranate seeds, big fat fresh cilantro leaves and chunks of red onion.  (I realize now that if I'm going to blog about food I'm going to have to get over my squeamishness over taking pictures of my meals in public.)  

Pumps primed, we giddily drove across town (in less than 5 minutes!) to dinner at the Red Hen.  Recognized by just about everyone as the place to eat in Lexington, I've been looking forward to a meal here for just about as long as we've been in town.  It turns out that the chef is husband and father to some of our favorite Lexington peeps, so getting to see him do is thing just added to fun.  And oh what fun it was...  Tucker creates a new menu everyday based on what's available in the local markets, crafting dishes with an eye on Appalachian tradition.  Unable to decide on any one thing off the menu we put ourselves in Tucker and sous-chef Tyler's capable hands and  dove into the Tasting Menu.  Anticipating 5 courses, we wound up with 8, each of them a delight.  Special favorites were the short ribs (slow cooked and melt-in-your mouth buttery good) with locally ground parmesan grits and Tyler's 'cake and ice cream' encore.  Oh, and then there was the scallop...  my God, the scallop.  And the monkfish in veggie ash.  Words fail!  Tucker and Tyler delivered many of the dishes to the table themselves and explained what they had made with a refreshing lack of pretension (cough, l'Etoile, cough, cough).  We really like it when well trained, very talented chefs refer to components of their dishes as "thingies".  (Much better than trying to pass off a Cracker Jack as some sort of hoity-toity after-dinner treat!)  

Bellies full we trundled home to find Ben and Paul curled up in the big green chair half-snoozing, half-watching a movie, and Caitlin and Susannah upstairs doing much the same thing.  We tucked everyone in and drifted off, only to get up and do it all again the next day.

Well, I did, at least.  After Chris' delish, airy whole wheat buttermilk pancakes (yes, airy and whole wheat do belong together in this sentence!) I headed north to Harrisonburg to see Mother H.  We rendezvoused at a huge wholesale book fair where I exhibited laudable restraint.  (spoiler alert: if you're getting a gift from me this Festivus season, odds are it'll be a book...)  Then, gleefully child-free, Mother H and I hit Jack Brown's for burgers. They only have 4 items on the menu (including fried oreos) and one special each day, but when you make burgers this good, that's all you need.  Hot damn.  The lunch time convo was hot too, and a much needed sandbox session for the both of us.  

Then back to Lex to collect the kiddos and see Sus and Paul off.  Kids and I went down to Roanoke for Kids Night Out at our new temple and I hit the town solo.  Still pretty stuffed from lunch, and knowing it'd take a miracle to top Friday night's dinner, I opted for a simple salad at 202 Market.  After deciding to look at it not as a salad, but as a cold salty raw vegetable dish I was able to enjoy it more, but just couldn't make my peace with the alleged chorizo deviled eggs.  I was anticipating a hard boiled egg filled with chunky chorizo in creamy yolky yumminess, but instead got blah deviled eggs sprinkled with only ever-so-slightly-Bac-Os.  Bummer.  In need of something to redeem the Roanoke food scene I stopped into Metro! for dessert.  I snagged a stool at the end of the (very swank) bar, had an eagle's eye view of the kitchen, and didn't even really mind waiting 20 minutes (and 2 cups of decaf) for my treats.  The bartenders and servers seemed to make a point of coming and chatting too, almost too much as I really was enjoying watching the chefs at work.  But I did hear about lots of hidden gems in Roanoke and now have a long list of places to visit and foods to eat.  And then at long last, dessert!  Two tiny dishes - flourless chocolate raspberry torte and a chocolate cherry pudding.  Both lovely and honestly, too much.  Next time I'm bringing Chris and doing dinner there too.  The couple next to me had some mighty good lookin' sushi...

And now I'm back in Roanoke again, killing time at the coffee shop while the kids are at Hebrew school.  Belly full, heart happy to be in the midsts of so much food, and so many good people to make it and share it with.

From the mouths of babes...

Upon being asked if everything was alright before I left him at Kids' Night Out at the temple, Ben said,

"Now that I'm affiliated with This Guy [jerks thumb toward his friend Elliott] and his Lego contraption ... well ... you know Mom ... "  [then gives me a dismissive flick of the wrist]

And then on the way home, after his sister made mention of Binki (the youth group director who ran the Kids' Night Out), 

"WHAT?!  Who is Binki?"

"Mrs. Tietlebaum, Ben," I said.  "You know, the woman who was in charge tonight.  Her name is Binki Tietlebaum."

"Oh.  Well, I call her Tietlebaum.  To me she's just Tietlebaum."

And don't forget:  "No one messes with Little Crockie."  

Coming soon:  Gustatory gleanings from the I-81 corridor and some mighty strange western VA sights.  

Offset Spatula

This is why I wanted that spatula Meggie...

(This is Ghost Pleasing Chocolate Cake from the lovely children's book, 

The Bakeshop Ghost by Jacqueline K. Ogborn.  Definitely worth a read.

And a taste.  

I have a bit of a thing for chocolate cake and can honestly say that this is among the very best I've ever tasted.)  

I've said a few times that I'd get back to proper blogging, and really, I'd like to.  Perhaps soon, but for now I'm baking up a storm and getting the wheels turning to return to birth work.  We're all doing really well and having a lot of fun in our new home.  Looking forward to more travels this fall, and visits from a fair few of you too! 

CW

At some point I think there will be a return to proper blogging, with narrative and all that.  But not now.  Not when the sauna and jacuzzi are both calling my name from the bathroom, though.  The bathroom with more square footage than many of the rooms in my home...  All credit to my in-laws and a chance run-in at the ice cream shop.  

For now, pictures...

Gunslinger

Who would've thought it was a good idea to arm little boys while they wander Colonial Williamsburg?   Turns out it is...

Love Letter to my Peeps

Dear Peeps,

I love you.  All of you.  More than you can possibly imagine.

You showed up at my parents' house tonight in droves, bearing food, gifts, children and babies.  Some of  you drove miles and miles to see us, and some of you even made time in your vacation schedules to come over.  You powered through busy days and dragged tired kiddos along just to see us one more time before we leave Madison.  You sat with me and listened to my stories and when I asked you, you knew I really did want to hear about your year and told me.  You were kind to my ancient dog, patient with my wild children and made friends with each other.  You made some damn fine food, damn fine.  You said goodbye and then were still here half and hour later -- I love that.  There were those of you here from nearly every chapter of my life and I loved that you all came out to see us.

I have been in Madison a week and literally every time I leave the house I run into at least one of you.  Two of you played some excellent music last night and Chris and I felt lucky to be able to see you do your thing.  These reunions are such gifts.  

4 of you were here on vacation when we first arrived and your presence did wonders for helping my kids jump right back into life state-side.  Its been too long and I'm so glad we could reconnect and kindle the kids' friendships.

You peeps who are further away, just the knowledge that we'll be seeing you so soon is a  joy.  I read your FB posts and emails and even just look at your pictures and these days there's this little thrill - I'm going to see her soon!  He'll be at my house in no time!  I loved hearing from you all while we were in India but its even better now that we're home, knowing we'll be seeing each other in mere days or weeks, instead of many long months.  

I feel overwhelmed and humbled by the rich universe of friends and family in which I move.  You all are wonderful and bring me such happiness.  You have been so missed and are so very appreciated.  The love and hugs we soaked up tonight will last us well into Virginia, and I hope you'll keep us in your hearts as we embark on this newest adventure.

Love, 

Maggie

Back Safe Home Again!

I think we've been on US soil just about 24 hours now, and let me tell you, it feels WONDERFUL!  

Meema and Grandpy, Tio, neighbors, normal driving, clean streets, FANTASTIC food, safe water...  the list of things we're seeing and enjoying goes on and on.  Everyone seems pretty well rested by now and thankfully, we all seem to be over that last nasty round of Indian stomach bugs.  The last leg of the journey was extra exciting thanks to busted windshield wipers and a big ol' midwestern thunderstorm (now there's another thing I really missed), but thanks to Super-Grampy at the wheel, we made it in one piece.  Pictures to come...

We're slowly by little going to be calling and seeing lots of you Madison people, but don't feel like you need to wait to hear from us to get in touch - call the homestead or even stop by if you're around.  

The big potluck is this Sunday 4-8 and we're looking forward to seeing lots and lots of folks.  (Get in touch if you need directions)  And between now and then we're chomping at the bit to see visiting cousins, wallow in wonderfulness at the farm and even see a friend's band play on Saturday night.  (Alchemy Cafe, this Saturday, 8pm, if you're interested...)

That Dorothy girls sure had it right - "There's no place like home..."

Goodbye, India...

The SLNC (Santa? Like, No. Claus) goodie bag is packed. The cab is downstairs. The last of the rupees are being spent (Yes, I'd like a year's worth of paan. To go.) Three and a half hours till take-off (G-d willing), less than 24 hours to Chicago. I think we all have one last gasp of Indological Illness, which is making it happier to leave. If there's (free) internet at the airport, I'll do an acknowledgments post. Don't look for any shoutouts, Indian immigrations and customs troublemakers, unless we have a hassle-free exit. Watch this be the one time they ask me for an income tax clearance certificate, since I don't have one.

In a final development, at McDonald's tonight, Ben said 'I'm ok with spicy stuff.'

Gratuitous India Picture:

---no more rickshaws for a while...

and with that, the SLNChampionistita sends to 'finish packing' (here I think she's using the imperative.)

The counter is wrong

I make it less than 72 hours. See yall soon. Anybody know good kidfriendly restaurants in the approximate vicinity of Connaught Place?

Tidewater 4-10-0-9

Name that tune for a SLNC prize. We're under 100 hours til home. In Leh. Each kid sick and leaking from a different end--since G-d loves us, our hotel is owned by an MD. Offered མངས་ཇ་ at Likir this morning, which means tea for all, and got matching dragons and yaks in thanks. Less tearful than usual saying goodbye, except when the discipline-master put khataks on Ben. We handed out rs100 notes to the assembled pious.
I have no good recent significant photos (though Caitlin did get the Maitreya Buddha at night, thanks to somebody resetting the ISO to 1600, and to Noe for lending a tripod) but here's something or other...let's see what I can dredge up.
There you go, me and some of the local oldsters, including the President, Secretary, Treasurer, and Sole Member of what Geshe-la calls the One Eyed Circumambulating Grandma Society.

See yall sooner and sooner...

Less than a week now...

I hardly know what to think - we'll be back in the US in less than a week from this exact moment. Maybe if I was looking at the world through a green plastic ring...  

I have to admit, I am going to miss this place like crazy.  I think it has something to do with the 48 little dudes who live downstairs, especially now that they all seem to be literally falling apart in front of my eyes.

We took 3 into Leh today to have various infected body parts looked at.  And my daily anti-fungal attacks have expanded to include wound care of all sorts.  (You would not believe how many of them look like they've been boxing.)  I did a vision test before we left this morning (he can see just fine, thanks) and had my diagnosis of pterygium  confirmed by a pediatrician before lunch today.  Maybe I have a future in medicine?  Midwifery, yea, but also...?  As much as I wish I didn't have to be the medical care provider for the kids, I really love the challenge of trying to figure out what's wrong and what to do about it, and then the satisfaction of seeing them get better.  

Anyhow, Caitlin and I are in Leh for 24 hours, shopping like maniacs, stocking up on goodies for all our loyal Nag Champions out there.  And stocking up on some last minute supplies for a delegation of Germans who will be at Likir in the coming days to inaugurate the new hot water heater they donated.

Which reminds me, we have officially become the US branch of (now international!) charity, Friends of Likir.  The organization coordinates donations to the monastery school for all sorts of projects.  Currently they are working raising funds to put in a new kitchen and dining hall.  As it is now the boys cook in a small room with a dirt floor and no running water or even counters or cupboards, and they eat on the floor in the same hall where they study, chant and debate.  Chris and I would like to institute regular visits from a pediatrician as well as some "seminars" on basic hygiene.  And a fund to pay for medications seems like a high priority too.  There is a website in the works  - watch this space. And since this is a very new development Friends of Likir is nowhere close to having 501-3C status, but that's a project we'll tackle later this fall.  However, if anyone is feeling especially moved to contribute toward the health and well-being of some of my favorite little boys on the planet, give us a holler and we'll help you get the money where it can do some good.

In the mean time, I'll leave you with some pictures of the little monks, lest you think all is woe and misery at the monastery...  

(Above is drawing time, not drawing CLASS, as everyone likes to call it.  The kids' days are really packed and structured so I make it a point to just put out the art supplies and let them do their thing.  Its been wonderful to see them go from all tracing the same pictures from the same books to now really getting creative and branching out into weird wild creations involving hole punchers and glitter tape and animal stencils.  I really hope the teachers will continue drawing time after we leave...)  

Guest editors

The Mighty Mighty Readership of SLNC has spoken, and we have heard all four of your voices loud and clear. You want to hear from the Nag Champiettes. Actually, no one said that, but every good piece of writing needs a catchy intro, so....

Ben says:
Let's do a describetion about the Buddha. No, don't type that in! What are you doing, Dad?

OK, um, we went to Thikse Monastery, and we saw the Buddha. It is a Maitreya Buddha. It's gigantic. Its eyes were kind of curved and long, and it has flowers growing up its arms, it has blue long and curled hair, and he has a crown which has the representing of the for [sic] buddha families. He has a conch shell tilak, he has golden skin and red unders of his feet and hands, and blue eyes.
Should we put in some pictures?
Yeah, how?
Like this:



Do you want to say anything about the pictures?

No, not really.

[ed. note: the Buddha's face is ~15 feet tall] Is there anything else you want to say about Ladakh, or your trip, or anything else that's going on?

Nope, nope nope...[walking away]

Ok, Caitlin, you're up:

Do my voice in Bold. When I'm talking, make it Bold. No, don't type that. [ed. swats hand away from delete button.]

Ummm... .... daddy, don't type this...

[dramatic sigh]

OK, type what Caitlin has to say now!

Four days ago we came into Leh. The first day we went to the Leh Palace. It was cool, but it was just basically empty rooms. We came back to Leh and had lunch. Next day we went to the little monks' picnic. It was lots of fun. I played cards with Geshe-la and the older little monks, and also I took funny pictures. Can we put in some of my funny pictures now?

Um, I dunno. Let's see. Nope, sorry, all the funny pictures of the picnic are on mom's computer. So...?

Then, at about five we went to Thikse monastery's guest house. It was ok. Then the next morning we went up to see Thikse monastery. Just very quickly, there were lots of tourists, it was pretty cool, but we've got pretty much the same stuff at our monastery.


ed. note -- please note the last sentence, which the kids have not yet adopted as a personal motto. The Tibetan above dedicates that particular prayer wheel to a soldier who died in 1999 in Kargil fighting against Pakistan.

We had lunch there, and then drove in to Leh. This is when I was starting to get sick. We found an awesome guesthouse called Maryul, then Dad and I went horseback riding, that's where I want the pictures.


My legs got sore and the white horse which I rode for the first part, had lost one of its stirrups the day before, so I had a rope stirrup which was very uncomfortable [ed: see pic above] It was also windy and rainy, but we had a lot of fun because I just love to spend time with my dad doing just about anything No! don't type that!

Next day we hung around Leh, and I met the guest house owner's daughter. Her name is Lhandol, she's really nice, we hung around together some and had breakfast together this morning. Then we did more important stuff like get water, drop off laundry, go shopping, etc., which isn't as fun but which I cheerfully endure because I know its important for my family. Dad!

Ben:

Here, you type in what you think I should say: My dad is awesome, I love him more than anything else in the whole world. That's what it says. When are you going to type about me getting sick? Ok, sorry.

For the last couple days I had a stomach infection. It wasnt getting better, and also the medicine was really yucky and I threw it up, so last night, Mom and Dad called a doctor. (AMA: you listening? House calls. For $11. You bout to get outsourced) Everybody done? Oh, yeah, now I'm all better, and my new medicine tastes ok.

Now I want to say something. Probably he got sick from playing in the stream at the picnic. The water was disgusting. And I saw garbage floating in it.

[He did sort of present giardiasistically, but that takes a long time to gestate, supposedly, so who knows what it was. Swimming in Indus effluvia probably didn't help. I paid my penalty in extra escorted trips to the bathroom, including in the dark and awful public Ladakhi toilets.]

Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Did you write in what I'm saying? Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore. Albus, Albus, Albus, Dumbledore.

So, we've had a few days off in Leh, and now that we've surveyed the varieties of Veg Cheese Kothay and had more pancakes and french fries than anyone really needs to eat in India, I am forgoing the International Association of Ladakh Studies Conference today (thru Sunday) and we'll head home after the usual raft of shopping.

Also, Dolkar now has a roof. Hooray, specially since it rained on Monday and Tuesday.

Thanks for helping me to placate the children Are you done yet? here in the Internet cafe while Maggie attends to important email. As usual, a promise of more substance to come soon, but not very soon.

PS--if you want to call us, Likir Monastery's main phone number is 11-1982-227140. Ask for KEE-REES, and then expect to wait a while. I'm genuinely not encouraging anyone to call, but it occurred to me that no one really knows how to reach us if needed. Now you do.

More Sweet than Bitter

Suggested soundtrack for this post can be found HERE.

In 30 days…

…I won’t be able to look out my window and see the snow-topped Himalayas.

…I won’t be able to turn my kids loose to go climb and explore and build caves right outside our house.

…we won’t be able to mosey across the street and spend an afternoon exploring every nook and cranny of an ancient monastery with a jolly and playful friend who happens to have the keys to everything.

…there won’t be any more Kashmiri apple juice.  Especially not at $1/liter.

…I won’t see 48 sweet smiling little boys shyly grinning at me every time I go outside.

…there won’t be friendly strangers herding their cows past my house, waving and shouting out, “Ju-lay!” all day long.

…the day won’t start with happy kids calling, “KEED-ISS!” in hopes of seeing my husband on their way to school. 

…no one will drop off sacks of dried cheese or peas as a housewarming gift.

…pairs of shy monks will no longer turn up at my door to deliver food and tea all day long.

…my kids will not be swept up by friendly monks for a walk, game of Carrom, or impromptu Ladakhi lesson.

…I won’t be able to sit in the yard knitting while I watch magpies careening against a backdrop of acid-green trees and craggy, barren, beautiful mountains.

…my family won’t be lulled to sleep by the burble of a glacial stream. 

…I won’t get a Ladakhi/cooking lesson, nor will I give a mini English lesson every time I take out the compost,

…I will live in a home with many fewer windows and not nearly as much dazzling sunshine.

…I’ll sweat again.  A lot.

…I’ll have to shave my legs again.

…going to the store won’t be an adventure full of fun, a chance to learn a new language and make a new friend, even if the store has nothing at all that I needed to buy.

…I’m going to be spending a lot more money for everything.

…my kids will probably be watching more TV and having more computer time.

…and so will Chris and I.

…I won’t be able to go sit in a Buddhist temple or teaching hall anytime I want.

…an enormous Buddha won’t be watching over me and my family.

…my husband won’t be able to get up at 5am and after a quick walk, spend a few hours working in his office before coming back home for breakfast.

…my days won’t be shaped by the singing and chanting of monks and the ringing of bells. 

…I won’t see knitting-inspiration every time someone takes off their shoes.

…our family won’t have the option of  feasting on Ladakhi food in the monastery kitchen for lunch and dinner every day.

…I will have to wait much much longer for veg-cheese khotay (pan-fried momos).

…we won’t be in the midst of a community so instinctively and uniformly oriented toward mutual support.

…going into town won’t be nearly as exciting and as highly anticipated as it is now.

…my family won’t spend nearly as much meaningful time together, drawing, reading, exploring outdoors and playing games.

…varied and interesting people from all over the world won’t wander down my street and through my house everyday, ripe for conversation and the sharing of travel tales.

…my family won’t be so closely enveloped by a foster family of the most cheerful, light-hearted and genuinely caring people I’ve ever met. 

 

And in 30 days…

… my bedroom, my children’s bedrooms, the dining room, living room and kitchen will all be separate, different rooms.

…my bathroom will have a toilet, complete with toilet seat, a shower and tub that are not just knobs sticking out of the wall, and it will be inside my house.

…hot water will come out of all the hot water taps anytime I want it to.

…hot water will come  to those taps from a great big tank in the basement, to which I have to do nothing, instead of a huge kettle sitting on a wood fire.

…I will keep my food in a refrigerator and cupboards, not a cardboard box.

…I will be able to bake, in an oven, in my house.

…I will have all the coffee I want.  Lattes, even.

…I will be able to walk to the library with my kids.

…we will wash our laundry in our own washing machine, with hot water, in our basement, anytime we want to.

…food will come from a grocery store that I can reach in a matter of minutes, any day I need to.

…I will be reasonably confident that any store I walk into will have the items I wish to purchase, and that I will be able to get a fair price, even though I’m white, and without an argument.

…I will be able to wear shorts and sleeveless tops without fear of being thought a brazen hussy.

…my husband and I will be able to hold hands (or even smooch!) in public without scandalizing all and sundry.

…my children will no longer fear cheek-pinchers every time we go out.

…my snot won’t be black from all the dust and dirt in the air.

…toilet paper will no longer be a scarce and precious resource.

…I will be able to eat good deep dark chocolate whenever I want it.

…my kids will be able to order food in a restaurant or eat at friend’s house without fear of it being nuclear hot and unpalatable to them.

…I will be able to take a hot shower more than twice a week and not feel the least bit guilty about it.

…there will be electricity 24/7, pretty much no matter what.

… my presence in my house, my activities and my husband’s work won’t be a source of curiosity and consternation to tourists who randomly walk thorough my yard, taking pictures of my friends without asking permission first, lost in the fiction of their 'spiritual adventure' in India.

…I will wash my dishes in a sink, in my kitchen, inside my house, with hot water, standing up, with the lights on, anytime of the day or night.

…my family will be able to get out a glass, turn on the faucet, fill the glass with water and drink it directly. 

…we’ll be able to brush our teeth and rinse the toothbrushes under the tap.

…I’ll be getting back to birth work, and hopefully midwifery training.

…I will be able to call friends and family on the phone anytime I want.

…we’ll all be able to see and hug and talk to all of your that we love and have missed so very much for the past 10 months.

 

 

Monastery

Just a few shots from around the monastery...

Home

For the uber-curious, my dad has movies of our humble home (so I know you've already seen them Mom!), but for the rest of you, a few shots of what we see everyday and our little corner of the Likkir.  

We live in a room (about 250 sq. ft.) that was previously a classroom.  Now that they've got Caitlin for an English teacher, the kids don't seem too upset about us taking over their room...

The room faces south and west and so gets wonderful light and stays very warm. 

Above, that's us on the right, the room that juts out toward the back - affectionately called The Aquarium... The shot is taken from the main walkway of the monastery - on the left are monks' quarters and just above those is the giant golden Buddha. We're on the second floor with the other classrooms, the school director's room and 2 bathrooms (squatties, no hot water).  We cook in our room on a two burner LPG stove and do just about everything else in there too.  

The little monks all live downstairs, about 10 to a room.  They also eat and debate and chant and pray and do homework downstairs.  They cook in a building across the courtyard, which you can see below, on the right.  We wash our dishes just to the left of the grassy area, at a tap which gives nothing but ice-cold glacial run-off.  And occasionally we do our laundry in buckets there too.  Behind the chorten at the far right corner of the building there is a dirt yard where the kids play and the entrances to all sorts of wild and wonderful hiking paths, caves and other gnarly stuff to explore and get dirty in.  

 

And finally, Tashi, the monastery dog...

Weaving

The man who runs the little shop just below the monastery has recently set up a traditional Ladakhi loom to work on when business is slow.  Caitlin and I popped in for an introductory lesson the other day and I have to admit that my opinion of myself as a fiber arts maven has taken a serious hit.  I'm in awe of what he can do with basically amounts to a bunch of sticks and string.