Day One Hundred and Three: A Rose by Any Other Name

Ahh Chinese Checkers. The six-point star, 121 indentation, and 60 multi-colored peg (or marble) game certainly creates a fun pattern for your eyes to explore, but Chinese Checkers isn't actually derivative of checkers, nor did it actually originate in China.

What we know today as Chinese Checkers is actually a spin-off of a game called Halma. Halma was developed by a thoracic surgeon at Harvard, George Howard Monks, between 1883 and 1884. Monks based his version of Halma off of a British game called Hoppity. Monks had help from Dr. Thomas Hill, a mathematician, in developing the game and it was he who named it "Halma", which is Greek for "Jump". Apparently Halma is the only "19th Century internationally-known classic game to have originated in the U.S."

"Stern-Halma" was the original name of the game we know today as Chinese Checkers. Stern-Halma, "stern" meaning "star" in English, was first patented in Germany by the Ravensburger game company in 1892. The excitement expaned to England in 1909 and made it to the US in the 1920s. The name Chinese Checkers came about through when Pessman Games used it in a marketing scheme in the 1928s.

Frankly, the game has almost nothing to do with the Chinese and was mostly introduced to Chinese-speaking regions by the Japanese. But, this particular board is probably more than Chinese than most other copies of the game in the US; Pete's dad (hi Paul!) got it for him in China when he ventured there a couple years ago. Pete and I have yet to play Chinese Checkers (and with the modest size and instability of the pegs we're unlikely to do so with two, always hungry dogs around), but not being a huge fan of Checkers, I'm not in any hurry to do so. Then again...if it's nothing like Checkers...I may have to give it a try.


** Thanks to this website for providing the history of Chinese Checkers!

Day One Hundred and Two: Happy Easter!

Shout to the Lord, all the earth, let us sing
Power and Majesty, praise to the King;
Mountains bow down and the seas will roar
At the sound of Your name.
I sing for joy at the work of your hands,
Forever I'll love You, forever I'll stand
Nothing compares to the promise I have in You.

Day One Hundred and One: Messages from Beyond?

This weekend we're celebrating the life, death, and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. During these high holy days, the voice of God frequently manifests itself clearly in songs, sights, smells, and smiles. I'm not quite sure what exactly was going on in this cemetery yesterday, but maybe God wasn't the only one trying to communicate with us from above this weekend.

Day One Hundred: Puddle Jumping

I don't always venture out of the office during my lunch hour, but today I needed to run a few errands (including exchange the five and one dollar bills Lucy decided to munch on over night). It's been a rainy April thus far, and to walk around town, I had to jump a few puddles. The wind caught sent a neat ripple through this puddle while reflecting (what I think is) the Westar Energy building. This puddle intersected one of the brick walkways spanning Kansas Avenue and completed my somewhat abstract picture of the day.

Day Ninety-Nine: Iron Works

One of the most notable sites in all the world is the Eiffel Tower. (I bet you recognized this close frame shot almost instantaneously). The iron structure that graces the banks of the Seine River in Paris has been idolized and memorialized in hundreds of thousands of ways since it was finished for the 1889 World's Fair, commemorating 100 years since the French Revolution. I was lucky enough to climb nearly all of the 710 steps during my stint in Europe in Fall 2007.

Any one of my friends who has spent a substantial amount of time with me since I've returned from my semester abroad knows that I'm mildly obsessed with Europe, particularly London. Fortunately for me, American interior decorators have joined in my obsession, and in the past couple years have offered a variety of representations of the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, and other world landmarks at cheap prices to make your home a little more worldly. Of course, I jumped on part of that bandwagon.

Truthfully, I liked Paris, but it didn't quite live up to its hype. It was nice, but when you're with a friend (my dear friend Rhonda), and not a significant other, the city of love (and all the people smooching on nearly every corner) doesn't seem quite as lovely. But, the Eiffel tower is quite lovely, and this representation of it, especially at 11:30 p.m. on a night where I have yet to take a picture, is also quite nice. I'm certainly willing to give Paris another shot, but maybe I'll venture there with Pete this time. :)

P.S.  I passed the Iowa Bar!!! WOO HOO! :)

Day Ninety-Eight: Men at Work

This is how my picture of the day came about today:

Scene: Emily's living room. Time: 7:45 p.m.  

The phone rings.

Pete: Hey! Do you have your picture for today yet?

Me: No, I don't.

Pete: Well, if you want, I have a photo opportunity for you.  But you'd have to leave right now.

Me: What is it?

Pete: Some guys are tearing down a house. But I bet they're only working until sunset.

I hung out of the phone, packed my dinner up in some tupperware, put Lucy on her leash, rushed out the door.

I didn't ask these guys what exactly they were doing (other than the obvious), or why they were doing it, but they were very open to having their picture taken.  Pete and I appeared on the scene at just the right time: they had a lot torn up, had a lot to go, and were bringing down the roof.

I originally fixed-up this picture (to the left) to use as my picture for the day, but as I continued to look through what I snapped, I found I was unable to tear myself away from the silhouette at the top; I just love it.  But, this shot caught the men at work hard at work, dust flying and the roof about to tumble and captured the scene too well to let it go.

As they were tearing the house down, I found myself wondering who had lived there, what memories had been made in the living room or kitchen, why the house fell into disarray, what is going up there, and if some part of Lawrence history had just been lost.  I pondered who ordered the destruction of the house that was probably a home at some point, whose eyes were wet in seeing the structure fall to the ground, and who was smiling and looking forward to what was to come.  

We left shortly after the roof came down and as the sun was about to rest its head for the evening.  I'm not sure how long the men worked or how far they got in tearing the house down.  I never really asked or had any of my questions answered.  So until the day it comes up in conversation again, I'll have some fun day dreaming about what has been and what is to come.

Day Ninety-Seven: Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200

Rarely in life is it absolutely, 100% clear that we are supposed to do or not do something. Most of the time I end up him-hawing around, weighing the pros and cons of things (often making a list and assigning points to the different elements to consider....I am my father's daughter) hoping to come to a "clear" conclusion. And even if numbers come out one way, my gut tells me the other and I realize I should have listened to that feeling inside all along. Sheesh.



But one decision Pete and I often consider is taking the dogs to the dog park. But right now, there is no question: the road to the park is temporarily closed. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Ahhh. Sometimes clarity is refreshing.