Can you believe March is here already?
And as it rushes past me, all I can think is what I have coming up - back-up mammogram, more lively dental work with a possible 'nother root canal, and COLONOSCOPY! Yes, fifty is here and we have such grand things planned!
At least Lillian got my taxes done for me. I don't make much money and my name isn't on the mortgage, so mine are the easy ones to face. Now ever they let us actually get hitched, the easy taxes will go down the drain, but I'll be past that first colonoscopy, so taxes may very well look like a piece of cake.
No, I'm not really obsessing about it. It was just one of those things my doc and I talked about yesterday when we were looking at my hand. No word on whether or not it's really broken, so I guess it isn't, which in a way is a nuisance, since it takes much longer for sprains to heal, but there you go, why would I do the easy thing?
Is it just me, or as we get older does time seem to just fly by? Okay, so it always flew past when something awful was coming up, say, a speech you had to give, or waiting outside the principal's office, or well, dental work. But it seems to me that, while some days still drag....on....forever....the weeks and years seem to be zipping past. You know, I was always amazed at people who could focus on Christmas presents at Easter, but now I understand: Christmas really is just around the corner! And when I was teaching, the breaks always seemed shorter than the ones the year before. Now of course I don't get breaks, so it's a moot concept, but the idea's the same. Ever I get vacation time, I'm going to go to sleep Saturday night when it starts and all of a sudden it'll be Monday night the next week, and I'll end up wondering where the hell the week went!
Which really isn't all that different from wondering where the hell my socks went, I guess.
And time slips away faster now. I was reading something online this morning, and the next thing I knew I was cursing traffic because I was gonna miss the bus, and wouldn't that just be a pain in the patootie, since I overslept on Friday and was late to work (although that's not entirely my fault, since JB said I could come in a little later, and he really didn't give me a timeline, and the bed was so snuggly warm and it was icy outside, and...well, there you go, I was really late).
I always taught my students that time isn't really a fixed thing, it's elastic, and sometimes it stretches out forever - like when you've just said something out loud you really only intended to think - and sometimes it's on speed. I wish I could get a handle on it, but there's so much else I have to do.
And not nearly enough time.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
02/27/06 Candlemaking
Okay, this is gonna be seriously short. I saw the doc today, got the paw X-rayed, and now it's incredibly tender. My pinkie is taped to my ring finger, and just typing this is nasty. Hence the short post.
I'm figuring out making candles again. The cool thing is that I can melt candle wax on the woodstove. I have the melting pot, and I can put candle leavings in there and they melt beautifully, not too hot, never catching fire, and then I can pour them into molds and empty glass jars or used candle glasses - badly phrased but you know what I mean so stop giggling at my word useage! - and it's nice to be able to make candles again.
We made candles back in Las Cruces one wild evening, and it was wonderfully successful and quite a mess. This time it's less messy, but I do miss the camaradarie at times. Light a candle, and smile for me, okay?
Grrr, the typing is frustrating. Love y'all much, but I'm gonna stop typing now. (((hugs)))
I'm figuring out making candles again. The cool thing is that I can melt candle wax on the woodstove. I have the melting pot, and I can put candle leavings in there and they melt beautifully, not too hot, never catching fire, and then I can pour them into molds and empty glass jars or used candle glasses - badly phrased but you know what I mean so stop giggling at my word useage! - and it's nice to be able to make candles again.
We made candles back in Las Cruces one wild evening, and it was wonderfully successful and quite a mess. This time it's less messy, but I do miss the camaradarie at times. Light a candle, and smile for me, okay?
Grrr, the typing is frustrating. Love y'all much, but I'm gonna stop typing now. (((hugs)))
02/26/06 Cats
Earlier today I sent the Sunday cartoon from 9 Chickweed Lane to some friends who have cats since it deals with the weirdness of cats. Here it is:
http://news.yahoo.com/comics/9chickweedlane;_ylt=An8hgVJW1CiORk19oIlIbFUDwLAF;_ylu=X3oDMTBiMW04NW9mBHNlYwMlJVRPUCUl
I do love 9 Chickweed Lane and Pibgorn, both drawn by the same guy - small plug there. But this does just illustrate some of the oddities of cats. I mean, I see why the Egyptians revered them. They're just too freaky to be natural! Have you ever noticed how they sometimes stare at nothing? Do you find yourself looking at the spot they're staring at, trying to see it too? And they can amuse themselves for hours with a feather, but if you buy them high-tech toys, they can't be bothered. Like children, they prefer to play with the boxes.
I'm watching X2, and the scene where Wolverine unsheaths his claws at the cat is perfect! Granted, Geordie would be hiding under something, but I can see Isis doing just what the kitty there did, lick his claws. They have that "it's all about me" attitude that adolescents can have. When I disturb Geordie, when he's sleeping on the bed, it's obvious I'm the one at fault, since I had the nerve to walk into the bedroom! What was I thinking? Laundry? Not at the expense of his nap!
And they taunt us, have you noticed that? Isis sharpens her claws on the little couch, and Geordie sharpens his on the bedroom carpet. Now, I'll grant you that we are going to be getting rid of the couch as soon as we can convince some sucker, um, that is, some lucky recipient to come haul it away, and the carpet is going to be replaced when we re-do the bedroom, but that's not the point, and they know it. It's sheer insolence.
But then they cuddle up with me and purr, and are all snuggly-warm, and I know they're evil and all, but still...Or they'll burrow under the fleece on Lillian's lap, just about the time she's had just enough of them, and they manage to appear to be loving and sweet. It's an act, I know it, she knows it, they certainly know it, but it works anyway. Every time.
And cats have variable gravity! And they flaunt it! You know they do. They can be light-footed and quiet coming up behind you so you almost step on them, and then they can thunder through the house, shaking knick-knacks off the shelves. Let one of them, from 30 lb. Maine coon cat to 5 oz. kitten land on your stomach, and anvils don't weigh as much! But let the same kitty pad softly across your foot or arm while they're trying to steal your tuna, and you can barely feel them. Why can't I have that skill when I'm standing on the scale at the doctor's office?
I've had cats all my life, starting with Sir Thomas the huge grey tabby, and I'll probably have them the rest of my life, but I don't think I'll ever understand them. And maybe that's why I enjoy them so much!
http://news.yahoo.com/comics/9chickweedlane;_ylt=An8hgVJW1CiORk19oIlIbFUDwLAF;_ylu=X3oDMTBiMW04NW9mBHNlYwMlJVRPUCUl
I do love 9 Chickweed Lane and Pibgorn, both drawn by the same guy - small plug there. But this does just illustrate some of the oddities of cats. I mean, I see why the Egyptians revered them. They're just too freaky to be natural! Have you ever noticed how they sometimes stare at nothing? Do you find yourself looking at the spot they're staring at, trying to see it too? And they can amuse themselves for hours with a feather, but if you buy them high-tech toys, they can't be bothered. Like children, they prefer to play with the boxes.
I'm watching X2, and the scene where Wolverine unsheaths his claws at the cat is perfect! Granted, Geordie would be hiding under something, but I can see Isis doing just what the kitty there did, lick his claws. They have that "it's all about me" attitude that adolescents can have. When I disturb Geordie, when he's sleeping on the bed, it's obvious I'm the one at fault, since I had the nerve to walk into the bedroom! What was I thinking? Laundry? Not at the expense of his nap!
And they taunt us, have you noticed that? Isis sharpens her claws on the little couch, and Geordie sharpens his on the bedroom carpet. Now, I'll grant you that we are going to be getting rid of the couch as soon as we can convince some sucker, um, that is, some lucky recipient to come haul it away, and the carpet is going to be replaced when we re-do the bedroom, but that's not the point, and they know it. It's sheer insolence.
But then they cuddle up with me and purr, and are all snuggly-warm, and I know they're evil and all, but still...Or they'll burrow under the fleece on Lillian's lap, just about the time she's had just enough of them, and they manage to appear to be loving and sweet. It's an act, I know it, she knows it, they certainly know it, but it works anyway. Every time.
And cats have variable gravity! And they flaunt it! You know they do. They can be light-footed and quiet coming up behind you so you almost step on them, and then they can thunder through the house, shaking knick-knacks off the shelves. Let one of them, from 30 lb. Maine coon cat to 5 oz. kitten land on your stomach, and anvils don't weigh as much! But let the same kitty pad softly across your foot or arm while they're trying to steal your tuna, and you can barely feel them. Why can't I have that skill when I'm standing on the scale at the doctor's office?
I've had cats all my life, starting with Sir Thomas the huge grey tabby, and I'll probably have them the rest of my life, but I don't think I'll ever understand them. And maybe that's why I enjoy them so much!
02/24/06 Photos and Other Things
As I'm sure many of you noticed, I added another photo gallery - Other Folks Fuzzy Families - and if you have pictures of your babies that you'd like to see here, just send them to me. I'd love to show them off.
On another note, a couple of friends have sent me pictures of their tattoos, and the work is magnificent. If you have a pic of yours that you feel is display-worthy, send it along and when I get a few more, I'll start a tattoo display. I think people's artistic and personal choices are endlessly fascinating! We do sometimes have younger folks who occasionally frequent this establishment, so if your tatt is somewhere...unique...well, I'll be sure that the pic gets a "Heads up" sort of title.
Tomorrow I probably won't be posting. It's going to be a busy day. We have two signings at the bookstore (WARNING: name dropping about to ensue!). First we have Aaron and Charlotte Elkins, and they'll be lots of fun, I know. But the true madness will come at 3, when we have Robert Crais coming in. He's a hunk, and we have women coming in just to drool. He's a sweetie too, so it only makes things more hectic. We close at 5, but I suspect there'll be folks there a bit after, although he has another signing later tomorrow evening, so he won't just be hanging about.
Then, after that, we'll be going down to Fado' for food and Irish music and just general merriment. Lillian and I will be taking our friend Robin down there, since she loves Irish stuff as much as the rest of us. We were supposed to go to a pasta-making party, but it fell through, and that's not necessarily a bad thing, since there would have been lots of people in a smallish space, and after a day of being nice to customers, I might have become surly. At a pub, I can let them do all the work! However, the reason it fell through isn't nifty - the hostess had severe chest pains, and is now home resting, so we're definitely thinking good thoughts for her!
Anyway, afterwards we'll be going back to Robin's new place (she just moved here from Boston) for good conversation, possibly dessert if I have my way, and tarot card readings, so all in all, it'll be a long, fun-filled day. Here's hoping that your day will be as much fun!
On another note, a couple of friends have sent me pictures of their tattoos, and the work is magnificent. If you have a pic of yours that you feel is display-worthy, send it along and when I get a few more, I'll start a tattoo display. I think people's artistic and personal choices are endlessly fascinating! We do sometimes have younger folks who occasionally frequent this establishment, so if your tatt is somewhere...unique...well, I'll be sure that the pic gets a "Heads up" sort of title.
Tomorrow I probably won't be posting. It's going to be a busy day. We have two signings at the bookstore (WARNING: name dropping about to ensue!). First we have Aaron and Charlotte Elkins, and they'll be lots of fun, I know. But the true madness will come at 3, when we have Robert Crais coming in. He's a hunk, and we have women coming in just to drool. He's a sweetie too, so it only makes things more hectic. We close at 5, but I suspect there'll be folks there a bit after, although he has another signing later tomorrow evening, so he won't just be hanging about.
Then, after that, we'll be going down to Fado' for food and Irish music and just general merriment. Lillian and I will be taking our friend Robin down there, since she loves Irish stuff as much as the rest of us. We were supposed to go to a pasta-making party, but it fell through, and that's not necessarily a bad thing, since there would have been lots of people in a smallish space, and after a day of being nice to customers, I might have become surly. At a pub, I can let them do all the work! However, the reason it fell through isn't nifty - the hostess had severe chest pains, and is now home resting, so we're definitely thinking good thoughts for her!
Anyway, afterwards we'll be going back to Robin's new place (she just moved here from Boston) for good conversation, possibly dessert if I have my way, and tarot card readings, so all in all, it'll be a long, fun-filled day. Here's hoping that your day will be as much fun!
02/23/06 Silly Things
When I was teaching, one of the things I told my drama classes to be aware of was silly things people do and say. If they added them into performances, it added that little touch of realism.
You know, things like testing pool water with your toe, and then with your fingers, in case your toes were wrong. Or flipping the light switch on and off repeatedly while staring at the light that wasn't coming on. Or tasting something that is a little off, then handing it to someone else, asking, "Does this taste funny to you?" - and frequently the other person actually tastes it! Have you notice that if you stare up at nothing in the air, others will join you at staring, and eventually someone will say they've seen whatever it is you say you're looking for?
But the silly thing on my mind right now is a something my doctor said about my hand. He said, "You don't have to brace your hand. Just don't use it."
JUST DON'T USE IT?!
Think about it. My right hand is my dominant hand. I'll grant you that ten years ago (ohmygod, it's been 10 years!) I broke my right elbow, and it was in a cast for a week, and a sling for four more, so I did get used to doing more things left-handed, but even then I could use my fingers. But now I'm not supposed to use my hand at all? I have to work, and a lot of people think that working in a bookstore is easy, but books are heavy, they come in boxes, and I'm naturally clumsy. Need I really say more? And cash registers need input, things have to be written down...well, like any job, you need your hands.
I mean, what job do you NOT need your hands for? Really? Sheesh.
So, my hand hurts, hence the rant. I go back to the doc on Monday, after what promises to be an incredibly hectic Saturday, and I may have grumpy things to say. But I'll be seeing my primary doc, not a substitute one like last time, and so I'm sure she'll be more realistic. I hope so, anyway.
Don't use my hand....grrrr....
You know, things like testing pool water with your toe, and then with your fingers, in case your toes were wrong. Or flipping the light switch on and off repeatedly while staring at the light that wasn't coming on. Or tasting something that is a little off, then handing it to someone else, asking, "Does this taste funny to you?" - and frequently the other person actually tastes it! Have you notice that if you stare up at nothing in the air, others will join you at staring, and eventually someone will say they've seen whatever it is you say you're looking for?
But the silly thing on my mind right now is a something my doctor said about my hand. He said, "You don't have to brace your hand. Just don't use it."
JUST DON'T USE IT?!
Think about it. My right hand is my dominant hand. I'll grant you that ten years ago (ohmygod, it's been 10 years!) I broke my right elbow, and it was in a cast for a week, and a sling for four more, so I did get used to doing more things left-handed, but even then I could use my fingers. But now I'm not supposed to use my hand at all? I have to work, and a lot of people think that working in a bookstore is easy, but books are heavy, they come in boxes, and I'm naturally clumsy. Need I really say more? And cash registers need input, things have to be written down...well, like any job, you need your hands.
I mean, what job do you NOT need your hands for? Really? Sheesh.
So, my hand hurts, hence the rant. I go back to the doc on Monday, after what promises to be an incredibly hectic Saturday, and I may have grumpy things to say. But I'll be seeing my primary doc, not a substitute one like last time, and so I'm sure she'll be more realistic. I hope so, anyway.
Don't use my hand....grrrr....
02/22/06 Indulgence
Now I suspect everyone who reads this knows I have a love of decadent and sensual things (get your mind out of the gutter - yes, I mean you!), like dark chocolate covered macadamia nuts and silk shirts and warm, cuddly blankets. I love soft, warm days, the smell of the ocean, fresh-baked bread and Havaarti grilled cheese sandwiches.
It's been chilly here at night, and my internal thermometer is beginning to slip away from being constantly on "high" and is heading quickly toward an annoying tendency toward icy fingers and toes. I've mentioned before that I love our fireplace, and we have candles burning, partly for the joy of them but also because they do take the edge off the chill in the room.
But as a complete and total indulgence, Lillian bought us a heated mattress pad, dual controls. We have a memory foam mattress, and once it gets warm, it holds the heat in, but when it's cold, well, you can just feel the chill radiating up out of the foam and into your body. So to be able to slip into the bed that's not overly warm but has that nasty clammy chill taken out and a gentle warmth waiting for me...well, it makes for a really good night's sleep. This is one of the nicest indulgences Lillian's ever gotten me (yes, it's for us, but her system's still on overdrive), and I love it! And her! So I'm going to go indulge in my indulgence. May you all sleep as well as I will!
It's been chilly here at night, and my internal thermometer is beginning to slip away from being constantly on "high" and is heading quickly toward an annoying tendency toward icy fingers and toes. I've mentioned before that I love our fireplace, and we have candles burning, partly for the joy of them but also because they do take the edge off the chill in the room.
But as a complete and total indulgence, Lillian bought us a heated mattress pad, dual controls. We have a memory foam mattress, and once it gets warm, it holds the heat in, but when it's cold, well, you can just feel the chill radiating up out of the foam and into your body. So to be able to slip into the bed that's not overly warm but has that nasty clammy chill taken out and a gentle warmth waiting for me...well, it makes for a really good night's sleep. This is one of the nicest indulgences Lillian's ever gotten me (yes, it's for us, but her system's still on overdrive), and I love it! And her! So I'm going to go indulge in my indulgence. May you all sleep as well as I will!
02/21/06 Food for Thought
On Dec. 18, 2005, Ben Stein made a speech on his CBS Sunday Morning Commentary, and lots of what he said I agree with. If you'd like the full text of what Ben said, let me know and I'll email it to you.
However, he made a couple of statements that I just had to comment on. What Ben said is next, in purple. My comments will be afterward in my traditional black.
"In light of recent events...terrorist attacks, school shootings, etc., I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found recently) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.
Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school, the Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.
Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said OK.
Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves."
And so I say:
You know, I lost a lot of respect for Ben Stein when he blamed the online game EverQuest for his son's addiction to it. So I take everything he has to say with a shaker of salt.
I agree with most of what he has to say here (again, remember what you're reading here is NOT the entire Stein post!) except for the part about keeping God in school. As a teacher, I had to look that one square in the face, teaching religion (except in a a detached educational sort of way) presents all kinds of problems. Whose religion? I had Christians, Muslims, Jews, pagans, athiests, agnostics. Which God do we talk to? Okay, so this is a predominantly Christian country, then what flavor of Christianity? Do we go with what is predominant in the area? Catholic? Mormon? Baptist? Or do we go with whatever beliefs the teacher has? But we can't because teachers can't impose their beliefs on the kids, we're there to teach things like English and math, and really there's not enough time to concentrate on those with all the other nonsense the administration has us doing.
I told my principal that if he required me to post the 10 Commandments in my classroom, he was going to have to allow me to put up all the other basic beliefs of every other religion or he'd be faced with a serious lawsuit, and not just from me either, but I wasn't Christian and wasn't for imposing beliefs I didn't hold on my students. He agreed, but it didn't come to that.
I did allow a group of kids, who knew I'm not Christian, to use my classroom to hold a prayer group during my lunch break. They used mine because most of them had my class immediately after lunch, and I really didn't mind. However they decided not to continue when I pointed out to them later that they were the meanest, rudest group of students I'd had in a long time, and they were. Oh my, they were vicious to other students who didn't meet with them in that prayer group! I'd never had a group more dedicated to deriding their classmates, and they really didn't see that they were doing anything wrong.
I expected situations like this to happen when Bradley brought her Sociology 2 class to merge with mine for her religion section. With my honors students, every week or two we had a graded discussion on any topic. No topic was forbidden, they chose it and the rules were that everyone had to participate, you could disagree but name-calling was forbidden, you had to present a logical argument, and you had to stay in your seat. We had some wonderful discussions, and I'd play devil's advocate on both sides, depending on who had the most people backing it. Bradley brought her class in to talk about religion, just to get more people involved, and she generally had one or two teachers or principals come in and participate too. It was always lively, the questions posed and answered were invariably intelligent, and very few people got their feelings hurt, which honestly happened more when we had discussions on vegetarianism.
I do think that if people want God in school, they should send kids to a private religious school or homeschool, but a school funded with public money needs to leave religion to the parents, not the teachers.
Well, and Ben Stein should stop blaming a game for his lack of parental observation.
However, he made a couple of statements that I just had to comment on. What Ben said is next, in purple. My comments will be afterward in my traditional black.
"In light of recent events...terrorist attacks, school shootings, etc., I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found recently) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.
Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school, the Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.
Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said OK.
Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves."
And so I say:
You know, I lost a lot of respect for Ben Stein when he blamed the online game EverQuest for his son's addiction to it. So I take everything he has to say with a shaker of salt.
I agree with most of what he has to say here (again, remember what you're reading here is NOT the entire Stein post!) except for the part about keeping God in school. As a teacher, I had to look that one square in the face, teaching religion (except in a a detached educational sort of way) presents all kinds of problems. Whose religion? I had Christians, Muslims, Jews, pagans, athiests, agnostics. Which God do we talk to? Okay, so this is a predominantly Christian country, then what flavor of Christianity? Do we go with what is predominant in the area? Catholic? Mormon? Baptist? Or do we go with whatever beliefs the teacher has? But we can't because teachers can't impose their beliefs on the kids, we're there to teach things like English and math, and really there's not enough time to concentrate on those with all the other nonsense the administration has us doing.
I told my principal that if he required me to post the 10 Commandments in my classroom, he was going to have to allow me to put up all the other basic beliefs of every other religion or he'd be faced with a serious lawsuit, and not just from me either, but I wasn't Christian and wasn't for imposing beliefs I didn't hold on my students. He agreed, but it didn't come to that.
I did allow a group of kids, who knew I'm not Christian, to use my classroom to hold a prayer group during my lunch break. They used mine because most of them had my class immediately after lunch, and I really didn't mind. However they decided not to continue when I pointed out to them later that they were the meanest, rudest group of students I'd had in a long time, and they were. Oh my, they were vicious to other students who didn't meet with them in that prayer group! I'd never had a group more dedicated to deriding their classmates, and they really didn't see that they were doing anything wrong.
I expected situations like this to happen when Bradley brought her Sociology 2 class to merge with mine for her religion section. With my honors students, every week or two we had a graded discussion on any topic. No topic was forbidden, they chose it and the rules were that everyone had to participate, you could disagree but name-calling was forbidden, you had to present a logical argument, and you had to stay in your seat. We had some wonderful discussions, and I'd play devil's advocate on both sides, depending on who had the most people backing it. Bradley brought her class in to talk about religion, just to get more people involved, and she generally had one or two teachers or principals come in and participate too. It was always lively, the questions posed and answered were invariably intelligent, and very few people got their feelings hurt, which honestly happened more when we had discussions on vegetarianism.
I do think that if people want God in school, they should send kids to a private religious school or homeschool, but a school funded with public money needs to leave religion to the parents, not the teachers.
Well, and Ben Stein should stop blaming a game for his lack of parental observation.
02/20/06 Updates
First of all, I've added another link to a really funny site, especially if you like catty women. And the stuff they find is amazing. Amazingly awful! It's a whole new definition of fu'ugly.
My posts for a while will probably be a bit short. Typing really hurts my hand, and I need to rest it, so I'm going to be typing very little for a while. But I'm still looking for photos to add to the gallery, so if you have anything, don't hesitate to send them along!
My posts for a while will probably be a bit short. Typing really hurts my hand, and I need to rest it, so I'm going to be typing very little for a while. But I'm still looking for photos to add to the gallery, so if you have anything, don't hesitate to send them along!
02/19/06 Sunday Drives
Not long ago, Lillian and I went out, driving around, just looking, exploring the area. It's one of my favorite activities, and I really wish that gas prices were low enough to allow us to do it more often, even though I know it's bad for the environment.
I find myself looking out at the trees, and with very little effort I can see how the land looked before we got here and put up housing developments and strip malls. It's so easy to see how someone rode up over a hill and saw water sparkling in the distance, the mountains covered with snow, Ranier shining in pinks and oranges as the sun sets. It's really beautiful up here, and it's still fairly exotic to me, having grown up in the desert.
And berries! Berry picking is quite the thing here. There are whole farms where you can pick your own, and blackberries grow wild. In fact, they're considered a nuisance, and if you doubt me, you should ask Lillian about them, especially during the summer when she has to hack her way through them. My girl wields a mean machete! And my co-worker, Tammy, makes jam to die for.
There are all kinds of berries up here I'd never heard of, and it's been tons of fun trying them. Lingonberries, loganberries, marionberries, tayberries. We had an unfortunate run-in with a wild loganberry pie last summer, and we've become addicted to tayberry jam.
And there are lavender farms up here. There's even a lavender festival, and one of our customers brought me lavender candy from it, since she knows I love the stuff (and apparently I'm in a serious minority here, but that's fine, more for me), and the smells are amazing.
So, one of these Sundays in the not-too-distant future, I'm looking forward to another trip through the countryside, seeing what we see. I'll take pictures, I promise!
I find myself looking out at the trees, and with very little effort I can see how the land looked before we got here and put up housing developments and strip malls. It's so easy to see how someone rode up over a hill and saw water sparkling in the distance, the mountains covered with snow, Ranier shining in pinks and oranges as the sun sets. It's really beautiful up here, and it's still fairly exotic to me, having grown up in the desert.
And berries! Berry picking is quite the thing here. There are whole farms where you can pick your own, and blackberries grow wild. In fact, they're considered a nuisance, and if you doubt me, you should ask Lillian about them, especially during the summer when she has to hack her way through them. My girl wields a mean machete! And my co-worker, Tammy, makes jam to die for.
There are all kinds of berries up here I'd never heard of, and it's been tons of fun trying them. Lingonberries, loganberries, marionberries, tayberries. We had an unfortunate run-in with a wild loganberry pie last summer, and we've become addicted to tayberry jam.
And there are lavender farms up here. There's even a lavender festival, and one of our customers brought me lavender candy from it, since she knows I love the stuff (and apparently I'm in a serious minority here, but that's fine, more for me), and the smells are amazing.
So, one of these Sundays in the not-too-distant future, I'm looking forward to another trip through the countryside, seeing what we see. I'll take pictures, I promise!
02/18/06 Medical Weirdness
Okay, on Monday I fell and sprained my hand, and on Friday I went to the doc, who pushed and prodded and generally made my sore paw ache even more. We see naturopaths, so they try to come up with more natural remedies and that's fine. Still, we've reached an odd moment in physical therapy.
I have a cream, and I have some pills, all designed to help reduce the swelling, reduce the pain and generally make things work right again. But the therapy is "contrasting hydro-therapy", which is a fancy way of saying water torture. Well, torture may be overstating it, but it's decidedly odd and un-fun. I heat a pan full of water to as hot as I can stand it, and no cheating - it has to be hot, then put my hand in, preferably gently swirling, for three minutes. Then I take my hand out and put it under icy water for 30 seconds. Then I do it twice more.
I understand why I'm doing it, opening the blood vessels and whatnot up to release the toxins and then constricting them to push them out. I get it, I do. But there are some odd issues that go with it. First of all, it feels like my fingernails are coming loose. And the tingling feels like that pins-and-needles feeling you get when your hand falls asleep, and it happens both when my hand goes into the hot and into the cold water. Then too, remember what happens when water runs over your fingers sometimes? Yeah, part-way through the process, I have seriously got to pee!
So, there I am, standing over a hot stove with my hand in the pot! It's wildly surreal. Aren't we told not to do that as kids? And for good reason! I'm glad there aren't any small people watching me.
Fortunately for me, the stove is right by the fridge, and we do have magnetic poetry, so I'll be playing with that over the next week. Fortunately for you, I won't be copying down what I write there. And while the grocery list is close at hand, I can't really write with my left hand so all the strange things that I think of won't make it onto the list, and the shock of the cold water tends to drive frivolous thoughts out of my head. But it's entirely possible that my vocabulary might expand.
And this had better work! As I said, my doc is a naturopath, and if the swelling doesn't go down this way, you KNOW what's next!
Leeches.
I have a cream, and I have some pills, all designed to help reduce the swelling, reduce the pain and generally make things work right again. But the therapy is "contrasting hydro-therapy", which is a fancy way of saying water torture. Well, torture may be overstating it, but it's decidedly odd and un-fun. I heat a pan full of water to as hot as I can stand it, and no cheating - it has to be hot, then put my hand in, preferably gently swirling, for three minutes. Then I take my hand out and put it under icy water for 30 seconds. Then I do it twice more.
I understand why I'm doing it, opening the blood vessels and whatnot up to release the toxins and then constricting them to push them out. I get it, I do. But there are some odd issues that go with it. First of all, it feels like my fingernails are coming loose. And the tingling feels like that pins-and-needles feeling you get when your hand falls asleep, and it happens both when my hand goes into the hot and into the cold water. Then too, remember what happens when water runs over your fingers sometimes? Yeah, part-way through the process, I have seriously got to pee!
So, there I am, standing over a hot stove with my hand in the pot! It's wildly surreal. Aren't we told not to do that as kids? And for good reason! I'm glad there aren't any small people watching me.
Fortunately for me, the stove is right by the fridge, and we do have magnetic poetry, so I'll be playing with that over the next week. Fortunately for you, I won't be copying down what I write there. And while the grocery list is close at hand, I can't really write with my left hand so all the strange things that I think of won't make it onto the list, and the shock of the cold water tends to drive frivolous thoughts out of my head. But it's entirely possible that my vocabulary might expand.
And this had better work! As I said, my doc is a naturopath, and if the swelling doesn't go down this way, you KNOW what's next!
Leeches.
02/17/06 Another Link
"Faster than Kudzu" (over in the Fun Links section) is Joshilyn Jackson's blog. Joshilyn is a southern author with a totally whacked-out sense of humor. I loved her first novel, gods in Alabama, and she generously let us at SMB read the manuscript for her upcoming novel, Between Georgia. But she won us over with her zany emails, and if you need a good giggle, read through her blog here. She's truly our Peach!
02/16/06 Public Restrooms
Okay, we need them. I'm not denying that.
But let's talk about etiquette, shall we? The restroom in our part of the building serves less than a dozen of us (depending on how many people the hair ladies have in and how many of them have to go potty), and I have no idea what the guys' restroom is like, but generally ours is clean. However.
What does it take to NOT pee on the toilet seat? If you're a girl? Please?
Sheesh.
Of course I can wipe off the seat, and I did. At least I didn't have to deal with the cell phone lady. One of the customers from the hair ladies came into the restroom when my co-worker was in there a while back, and she was chatting on her phone the entire time. It's a small room and everything echoes, and tinkling is...well, it was difficult, I understand. But cell phone etiquette is another matter. Just suffice it to say that there's nothing you need to say in a public bathroom on your phone.
But I was impressed with the reception she was getting. There is that.
There's a porta-potty (privs in the Outlands, biffies up here) just outside our shop - there's been a lot of construction going on - and I was vaguely amused to catch a guy peeing next to it. I shrugged and walked on, he zipped up and sauntered off, and I wondered just how nasty it was in there. Those of us in the SCA are used to porta-potties, but there are some that just don't get the attention they should, so I do kinda understand why he was whizzing in the alley. Or maybe he just had to go...but no. It was kind of a statement. I guess that's why the apartments in that building are so cheap. Well, that and they're about the size of your average hotel closet.
We have a new transit center for the buses, and it's really spiffy, bright and shiny new. When I was at the old center, one of the workers pointed out that the new center would have public restrooms. I smiled and nodded, and I'm glad, I really am! The cases that hold the bikes in the old station really smell like urine when it gets warm, so having public restrooms will be good. But...I'm not gonna use them. Nope. The transit center's close enough to home, and they scare me. If I've really gotta go, well, Wendys is nearby.
So, yay for public restrooms! But I'd still rather be home, y'know?
But let's talk about etiquette, shall we? The restroom in our part of the building serves less than a dozen of us (depending on how many people the hair ladies have in and how many of them have to go potty), and I have no idea what the guys' restroom is like, but generally ours is clean. However.
What does it take to NOT pee on the toilet seat? If you're a girl? Please?
Sheesh.
Of course I can wipe off the seat, and I did. At least I didn't have to deal with the cell phone lady. One of the customers from the hair ladies came into the restroom when my co-worker was in there a while back, and she was chatting on her phone the entire time. It's a small room and everything echoes, and tinkling is...well, it was difficult, I understand. But cell phone etiquette is another matter. Just suffice it to say that there's nothing you need to say in a public bathroom on your phone.
But I was impressed with the reception she was getting. There is that.
There's a porta-potty (privs in the Outlands, biffies up here) just outside our shop - there's been a lot of construction going on - and I was vaguely amused to catch a guy peeing next to it. I shrugged and walked on, he zipped up and sauntered off, and I wondered just how nasty it was in there. Those of us in the SCA are used to porta-potties, but there are some that just don't get the attention they should, so I do kinda understand why he was whizzing in the alley. Or maybe he just had to go...but no. It was kind of a statement. I guess that's why the apartments in that building are so cheap. Well, that and they're about the size of your average hotel closet.
We have a new transit center for the buses, and it's really spiffy, bright and shiny new. When I was at the old center, one of the workers pointed out that the new center would have public restrooms. I smiled and nodded, and I'm glad, I really am! The cases that hold the bikes in the old station really smell like urine when it gets warm, so having public restrooms will be good. But...I'm not gonna use them. Nope. The transit center's close enough to home, and they scare me. If I've really gotta go, well, Wendys is nearby.
So, yay for public restrooms! But I'd still rather be home, y'know?
02/15/06 Architecture
I like looking at buildings. I've always loved to look at cool houses and neat buildings. Lou and Ty and I used to go to the Parade of Homes and decide which houses we'd like to live in best. Of course one of the most memorable events on one of those tours wasn't the beautiful designs but the fact that Lou let Ty drive that awful white van of hers. Ohmygod.
However, here in Seattle, I find myself looking at the buildings downtown when I walk from the bus to the shop, or when I'm out running errands. There are some wonderful new buildings, all shimmering, watery glass in curving and geometrical shapes that just draw the eye. There's this great waterfall-type fountain on Fourth that I love walking past, 'cause the sound is soothing, and it's nice to watch the whitewater rushing down the sides. The huge glass case on the corner by that incredibly tall black BoA building has a series of slowly twirling glass discs that catch the light. It's either beautiful or blinding, depending.
But mostly I like the older stuff. The old brick and stone. There are some amazing small decorative embellishments and friezes on the buildings downtown. When I sit on the little wall outside the salad shop waiting for my bus, I'm always looking for details that I might have missed. There's a small alley between the building I work in and the one next door that reminds me of London, around the law school, if I remember right. Oh my, it takes me back, especially when it's cold and you've got that smell of damp chill and diesel and hot food.
However, here in Seattle, I find myself looking at the buildings downtown when I walk from the bus to the shop, or when I'm out running errands. There are some wonderful new buildings, all shimmering, watery glass in curving and geometrical shapes that just draw the eye. There's this great waterfall-type fountain on Fourth that I love walking past, 'cause the sound is soothing, and it's nice to watch the whitewater rushing down the sides. The huge glass case on the corner by that incredibly tall black BoA building has a series of slowly twirling glass discs that catch the light. It's either beautiful or blinding, depending.
But mostly I like the older stuff. The old brick and stone. There are some amazing small decorative embellishments and friezes on the buildings downtown. When I sit on the little wall outside the salad shop waiting for my bus, I'm always looking for details that I might have missed. There's a small alley between the building I work in and the one next door that reminds me of London, around the law school, if I remember right. Oh my, it takes me back, especially when it's cold and you've got that smell of damp chill and diesel and hot food.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
02/14/06 Getting Older
What, you thought I'd talk about Valentine's Day?
Last night I stumbled while I was trying to sit down and fell, wickedly thumping my right hand. I didn't break my little finger, but it's still unpleasant. And I can feel it all up my forearm, and my ankle's tender, and I'm grateful that I didn't throw out my back, especially since I tripped today at work and toppled over.
Let's not laugh at the slapstick turn my life is taking right now, shall we? Well, okay, maybe a little. But it occurs to me that as a youngster, I'd shake off this kind of stuff without a thought. Hell, I even managed to hide the slight damage that happened when my horse fell on me. But now...now every little thing aches.
And I protest, darn it!
I'm almost 50. I've finally learned that I'm not invincible, with or without tequila, and that bran muffins are good, and that sometimes you have to do things you don't want to because it's the right thing to do. So can't I at least be clumsy without feeling more than just silly? But no, oh no. Silly and in pain.
But then life is a little odd sometimes. I told a telemarketer today at work that we didn't want her services, and after questioning whether or not I was authorized to make those kinds of decisions (I am, we all are, they just piss my boss off), she later called back to tell me that I hurt her feelings.
Honestly, sometimes I think my life is just surreal.
Okay, I'm gonna go check the fire. It's supposed to get cold tonight (no snow for us but it happened at the other end of Seattle, so some kids got snow days), and the fireplace offsets those pesky heating bills. But I'm gonna be careful. With my current track record, I'll bop myself in the nose with the wood when I put it into the stove. Wish me luck!
Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day. Or Happy Un-Valentine's Day. Whichever.
Last night I stumbled while I was trying to sit down and fell, wickedly thumping my right hand. I didn't break my little finger, but it's still unpleasant. And I can feel it all up my forearm, and my ankle's tender, and I'm grateful that I didn't throw out my back, especially since I tripped today at work and toppled over.
Let's not laugh at the slapstick turn my life is taking right now, shall we? Well, okay, maybe a little. But it occurs to me that as a youngster, I'd shake off this kind of stuff without a thought. Hell, I even managed to hide the slight damage that happened when my horse fell on me. But now...now every little thing aches.
And I protest, darn it!
I'm almost 50. I've finally learned that I'm not invincible, with or without tequila, and that bran muffins are good, and that sometimes you have to do things you don't want to because it's the right thing to do. So can't I at least be clumsy without feeling more than just silly? But no, oh no. Silly and in pain.
But then life is a little odd sometimes. I told a telemarketer today at work that we didn't want her services, and after questioning whether or not I was authorized to make those kinds of decisions (I am, we all are, they just piss my boss off), she later called back to tell me that I hurt her feelings.
Honestly, sometimes I think my life is just surreal.
Okay, I'm gonna go check the fire. It's supposed to get cold tonight (no snow for us but it happened at the other end of Seattle, so some kids got snow days), and the fireplace offsets those pesky heating bills. But I'm gonna be careful. With my current track record, I'll bop myself in the nose with the wood when I put it into the stove. Wish me luck!
Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day. Or Happy Un-Valentine's Day. Whichever.
02/13/06 Snow Days
It's supposed to lightly snow here tonight, and the East coast is digging out from a blizzard. They have my sympathy, and if we could, we'd take some of the snow that pounded them. We'd love one day of good snow, simply because Seattle can't handle it and we'd get...a snow day!
As an adult, especially one who has lived in Minnesota, I know how destructive and truly ugly lots of snow can get, but isn't there still just a little moment of magic when you hear the words "Snow Day"?
Think about it! Doesn't it just evoke all kinds of great things - not the least of which is we don't have to be completely responsible adults any more. Of course we have to be sure we have heat and water and warm clothes and food, but after we're sure everything's gonna be okay, isn't it kind of magic? I think of snow angels and snowmen and snowball fights and snow forts. Stand still for a moment and listen to the silence, the stillness. Look at the glisten if there's sun, breathe in that amazing smell that's just new snow.
When I was a kid, I dug a hollow in a snow bank and climbed in. I made it big enough to lay down in, and I did, watching the snow fall outside my little private space. Unfortunately I got kinda warm and sleepy, so I understand how easy it would be to die like that, but my dog was very protective of me and he jumped in and woke me up. Snow down my neck, in my pants and between my fingers. Boy I was cold suddenly!
And that takes me to the other good part of snow days: hot chocolate or cocoa (or buttered rum), cuddled up in blankets while the cold, wet clothes steam someplace else, watching a fire burn, or reading a good book, watching a fun movie, or just dozing. And the cool part is, you're not being a slacker - it's a Snow Day!
We'll get back to the business of being adults and coping with all the things that happen, but for a brief moment, enjoy the magic idea of a Snow Day!
As an adult, especially one who has lived in Minnesota, I know how destructive and truly ugly lots of snow can get, but isn't there still just a little moment of magic when you hear the words "Snow Day"?
Think about it! Doesn't it just evoke all kinds of great things - not the least of which is we don't have to be completely responsible adults any more. Of course we have to be sure we have heat and water and warm clothes and food, but after we're sure everything's gonna be okay, isn't it kind of magic? I think of snow angels and snowmen and snowball fights and snow forts. Stand still for a moment and listen to the silence, the stillness. Look at the glisten if there's sun, breathe in that amazing smell that's just new snow.
When I was a kid, I dug a hollow in a snow bank and climbed in. I made it big enough to lay down in, and I did, watching the snow fall outside my little private space. Unfortunately I got kinda warm and sleepy, so I understand how easy it would be to die like that, but my dog was very protective of me and he jumped in and woke me up. Snow down my neck, in my pants and between my fingers. Boy I was cold suddenly!
And that takes me to the other good part of snow days: hot chocolate or cocoa (or buttered rum), cuddled up in blankets while the cold, wet clothes steam someplace else, watching a fire burn, or reading a good book, watching a fun movie, or just dozing. And the cool part is, you're not being a slacker - it's a Snow Day!
We'll get back to the business of being adults and coping with all the things that happen, but for a brief moment, enjoy the magic idea of a Snow Day!
02,/12/06 Night Owl
I know I'm not the only one who's a night owl. Given the opportunity, I'd keep a vampire's schedule. Well, okay, not entirely. I like the sun sometimes, and besides summer nights up here are really short. But I'm happier sleeping until noon, maybe one, and getting stuff done in the late afternoon or evening, then staying up until 2 or 3 in the morning.
I'm not sure why that is, either. And it's not convenient, necessarily, since my night vision is going. But it's quieter, more private and yet more open somehow. Less stressful. Of course in New Mexico, a lot of my love of the night was hiding from the sun, but that's not such an issue up here in the grey and mist and clouds.
I am an old friend of insomnia, and the Billy Pilgrim song was my theme for quite a while. Early morning air slipping over my face while I'm tucked into a warm bed is one way to help me sleep, and even in Minnesota in winter there were times when I had to have the window cracked to be able to sleep. But when the sun comes up I can generally fall asleep. Strange.
Given the opportunity, Lillian would be right here with me, but manys the night when I'm just falling asleep and she's waking up. Her hours are insane.
So, here I am, loving the night, the quiet, the rhthyms. Maybe that's one of the things I liked best about teaching - at least during the summer I could keep the hours that pleased me best. Someday, oh yes, someday I'll be able to sleep when I like, be awake when it suits me. It may not be until I'm in the nursing home (Ty, pick a good one!), but some day!!
I'm not sure why that is, either. And it's not convenient, necessarily, since my night vision is going. But it's quieter, more private and yet more open somehow. Less stressful. Of course in New Mexico, a lot of my love of the night was hiding from the sun, but that's not such an issue up here in the grey and mist and clouds.
I am an old friend of insomnia, and the Billy Pilgrim song was my theme for quite a while. Early morning air slipping over my face while I'm tucked into a warm bed is one way to help me sleep, and even in Minnesota in winter there were times when I had to have the window cracked to be able to sleep. But when the sun comes up I can generally fall asleep. Strange.
Given the opportunity, Lillian would be right here with me, but manys the night when I'm just falling asleep and she's waking up. Her hours are insane.
So, here I am, loving the night, the quiet, the rhthyms. Maybe that's one of the things I liked best about teaching - at least during the summer I could keep the hours that pleased me best. Someday, oh yes, someday I'll be able to sleep when I like, be awake when it suits me. It may not be until I'm in the nursing home (Ty, pick a good one!), but some day!!
02/12/06 Characters
Today is the 2 year anniversary of my starting to work at Seattle Mystery Bookshop, and I was kinda looking around yesterday and today. Not so much at the shop, although I might post some pictures of it, but at the folks in the area. You get to know some folks in the neighborhood, and it's pretty cool.
Jason, the owner of Bakeman's Restaurant across the street from the shop, makes food to die for, really inexpensive and absolutely fabulous, and he can be amazingly rude. I've seen him send people away white-faced and shaking, but the food's really good, and if you get to know him, you learn not to take it personally. He's also incredibly sweet at times, but don't tell him I said that.
Matthew at the UPS store takes amazingly good care of me, and Isis loves one of his colognes, and Sarah, our UPS pick-up lady is a hoot. I call her "Sarabelle" and she laughs, and really does her absolute best not to call me Frannie to my face.
Don and Pam at the post office are great fun to talk to, and Pam makes sure that I hear all the latest news on looking after the dogs. JB, my boss, said that the other day when he went to the post office for me that they missed me and I had to go let them know I was okay.
There's a guy who has a sign like the homeless do, but his sign says "Smile" and if I'm not paying attention, he makes sure that I see him and grin. He always succeeds. And there's a saxophonist whose music echoes up and down the streets, and a drummer who uses plastic buckets, and he can stop you in your tracks with his talent.
One of the ladies at the hair salon down the street, Nicole, had a troublesome pregnancy last year and she's still not back to work. The baby's home and he's fine, but her co-workers have been known to haul me in while I'm on my way to the post office to update me on how she's doing.
The girls at the coffee shop, the ladies in the deli, the lovely couple in the copying shop, the tattooed chick at the pizza place, the tour guide from the Underground Tour, all of these folks have become my neighbors at work. There are lots of odd things that happen downtown, no question, but the people can be just wonderful and amazing. They always make me smile and that's not something I take for granted.
Jason, the owner of Bakeman's Restaurant across the street from the shop, makes food to die for, really inexpensive and absolutely fabulous, and he can be amazingly rude. I've seen him send people away white-faced and shaking, but the food's really good, and if you get to know him, you learn not to take it personally. He's also incredibly sweet at times, but don't tell him I said that.
Matthew at the UPS store takes amazingly good care of me, and Isis loves one of his colognes, and Sarah, our UPS pick-up lady is a hoot. I call her "Sarabelle" and she laughs, and really does her absolute best not to call me Frannie to my face.
Don and Pam at the post office are great fun to talk to, and Pam makes sure that I hear all the latest news on looking after the dogs. JB, my boss, said that the other day when he went to the post office for me that they missed me and I had to go let them know I was okay.
There's a guy who has a sign like the homeless do, but his sign says "Smile" and if I'm not paying attention, he makes sure that I see him and grin. He always succeeds. And there's a saxophonist whose music echoes up and down the streets, and a drummer who uses plastic buckets, and he can stop you in your tracks with his talent.
One of the ladies at the hair salon down the street, Nicole, had a troublesome pregnancy last year and she's still not back to work. The baby's home and he's fine, but her co-workers have been known to haul me in while I'm on my way to the post office to update me on how she's doing.
The girls at the coffee shop, the ladies in the deli, the lovely couple in the copying shop, the tattooed chick at the pizza place, the tour guide from the Underground Tour, all of these folks have become my neighbors at work. There are lots of odd things that happen downtown, no question, but the people can be just wonderful and amazing. They always make me smile and that's not something I take for granted.
02/10/06 Amazing sights
I love my walks to the post office from work. I get to walk down First Avenue, and may I just say, everyone should do that! If you like watching people, Pike Place Market and Pioneer Square are two wonderful places. Granted, there are always the scary elements, the meth addicts who are mumbling to themselves and yelling at...well, I'm not sure what or who, but it's kind of disconcerting. And of course the panhandlers are everywhere. If you look, you will see Aqualung.
But oh, some of the wonders, especially in clothing! Grunge and punk and the 60's, 70's, 80's, goth, yuppie, all are wandering around downtown.
For example, last St. Patrick's Day - a day known for excess in dress - I saw a lovely Muslim lady in traditional garb, muted colors, only hands and face showing, but over it all she was wearing a green denim jacket. Gotta love it!
And today, oh my today I saw a sweet young thing, metallic red hair shining in the sun, faux leopard fur short jacket, very VERY short ruffled denim skirt, black high heels, and pink and black horizontally striped stockings. Her skirt was so short that you could see the garters holding up the stockings. She had her goth buddy with her, a chubby girl in all black with the requisite black make-up, and they both were alternating between being proud of their look and hoping no one was looking. Of course we did. And most of us smiled.
And today was a wonderfully sunny day, so I saw lots of sandals and flip-flops under brand-new black jean shorts with zippers, hacked off khakis, broomstick skirts (which are going to be popular this summer, I can see that already), and topped with down jackets and windbreakers. Hey, it's warm and it's nice, but we're not completely stupid here! The wind off Elliot Bay can get pretty darned nippy!
I can't think of any color I haven't seen on hair, generally on the younger crowd but not always. Some people are quite adventurous, and I do so admire that! Not me, you understand! But when I wear my Dr. Seuss shirt, I certainly fit right in!
But oh, some of the wonders, especially in clothing! Grunge and punk and the 60's, 70's, 80's, goth, yuppie, all are wandering around downtown.
For example, last St. Patrick's Day - a day known for excess in dress - I saw a lovely Muslim lady in traditional garb, muted colors, only hands and face showing, but over it all she was wearing a green denim jacket. Gotta love it!
And today, oh my today I saw a sweet young thing, metallic red hair shining in the sun, faux leopard fur short jacket, very VERY short ruffled denim skirt, black high heels, and pink and black horizontally striped stockings. Her skirt was so short that you could see the garters holding up the stockings. She had her goth buddy with her, a chubby girl in all black with the requisite black make-up, and they both were alternating between being proud of their look and hoping no one was looking. Of course we did. And most of us smiled.
And today was a wonderfully sunny day, so I saw lots of sandals and flip-flops under brand-new black jean shorts with zippers, hacked off khakis, broomstick skirts (which are going to be popular this summer, I can see that already), and topped with down jackets and windbreakers. Hey, it's warm and it's nice, but we're not completely stupid here! The wind off Elliot Bay can get pretty darned nippy!
I can't think of any color I haven't seen on hair, generally on the younger crowd but not always. Some people are quite adventurous, and I do so admire that! Not me, you understand! But when I wear my Dr. Seuss shirt, I certainly fit right in!
02/09/06 Fire
It's windy and chilly outside tonight, and when I got home the house was kinda cold, so I built a fire. Okay, for those of you who've known me for a while, yes, now I can do it. Finally. Without lighter fluid. I still need that for the barbecue, but I can start a fire in our fireplace.
The fireplace is one of the reasons we bought this house. We've purchased a bunch of firewood, which has been an experience. We're learning, bit by bit. One thing we've learned is that I really can't split wood, just lug it around. And I'm finally learning about stacking it.
But there's really something satisfying about a fire when it's cold. And there's something really viscerally comforting about a campfire in the woods at night. The smells, the sight of it, it's no wonder people have believed all these years that fire is magic. When you add good food, good friends and good beverages, well, life doesn't get much better.
In the SCA, camp sites that allow fire are wonderful. When you've got a group of people who've had a long, dusty day in the sun or a damp day in the trees, fighting and shopping and visiting, then to sit around a fire wrapped in a warm cloak passing a tankard of something home-brewed and telling "No shit, there I was" stories with drums beating in the background, well, I dare any insomniac to have trouble sleeping. I think some of the best sleep I've ever gotten was at an event.
But it's nice to have a fire here in the house. Aside from the help on the heating bill, it's just satisfying to watch the flames leap and dance, to smell the burning wood, to do that slow spin you do when you're warming up. So we're cuddled up, nice and toasty warm while the wind tickles around outside, and I hope you are too.
The fireplace is one of the reasons we bought this house. We've purchased a bunch of firewood, which has been an experience. We're learning, bit by bit. One thing we've learned is that I really can't split wood, just lug it around. And I'm finally learning about stacking it.
But there's really something satisfying about a fire when it's cold. And there's something really viscerally comforting about a campfire in the woods at night. The smells, the sight of it, it's no wonder people have believed all these years that fire is magic. When you add good food, good friends and good beverages, well, life doesn't get much better.
In the SCA, camp sites that allow fire are wonderful. When you've got a group of people who've had a long, dusty day in the sun or a damp day in the trees, fighting and shopping and visiting, then to sit around a fire wrapped in a warm cloak passing a tankard of something home-brewed and telling "No shit, there I was" stories with drums beating in the background, well, I dare any insomniac to have trouble sleeping. I think some of the best sleep I've ever gotten was at an event.
But it's nice to have a fire here in the house. Aside from the help on the heating bill, it's just satisfying to watch the flames leap and dance, to smell the burning wood, to do that slow spin you do when you're warming up. So we're cuddled up, nice and toasty warm while the wind tickles around outside, and I hope you are too.
02/08/06 Dentists
Need I really say more? I've been to the dentist several times since I've been here, and I've cried every time but one. And that includes simple cleanings, although it was the last cleaning that I survived intact.
It's not the shots, although they leave me trembling. I mean, give me the Novocaine any time rather than not! Oh my yes, although I really despise that spongy feeling, like your lips are three inches thick. No, it's the high-frequency squeal of the drill and all the other instruments. They sound like rabid hornets, and they're in my mouth! How can my blood pressure not spike? Can anyone not be stressed? And then there's the smell of burning bone, the gurgle of water they can't quite get out of your throat - and I gag if they poke just right, which they always do - the crack and crunch of bones being mangled.
Medical techniques have come so far, why not dentistry? Lillian's Aunt Helen had her broken hip worked on surgically and it was amazingly fast. The incision was tiny! But we haven't improved much since the 70's. Well, except for the light. Does anyone but me remember the old lights that were huge and seemed like they'd drop on you? Castle was the brand.
It's got to be the insurance companies holding us back. I know that I'm only getting the type of filling that my insurance covers, which my dentist implied was not the best, just what they covered. Maybe if insurance magnates had to use their basic policies for their own dental care, they'd be more compassionate. Insurance and compassionate in the same sentence. Yep, I'm obviously not feeling right.
Bedtime, it's obviously bedtime. Dear darling dentist shoved a post into my upper jaw this morning and I'm grumpy and aching. Things will be better tomorrow, right?
It's not the shots, although they leave me trembling. I mean, give me the Novocaine any time rather than not! Oh my yes, although I really despise that spongy feeling, like your lips are three inches thick. No, it's the high-frequency squeal of the drill and all the other instruments. They sound like rabid hornets, and they're in my mouth! How can my blood pressure not spike? Can anyone not be stressed? And then there's the smell of burning bone, the gurgle of water they can't quite get out of your throat - and I gag if they poke just right, which they always do - the crack and crunch of bones being mangled.
Medical techniques have come so far, why not dentistry? Lillian's Aunt Helen had her broken hip worked on surgically and it was amazingly fast. The incision was tiny! But we haven't improved much since the 70's. Well, except for the light. Does anyone but me remember the old lights that were huge and seemed like they'd drop on you? Castle was the brand.
It's got to be the insurance companies holding us back. I know that I'm only getting the type of filling that my insurance covers, which my dentist implied was not the best, just what they covered. Maybe if insurance magnates had to use their basic policies for their own dental care, they'd be more compassionate. Insurance and compassionate in the same sentence. Yep, I'm obviously not feeling right.
Bedtime, it's obviously bedtime. Dear darling dentist shoved a post into my upper jaw this morning and I'm grumpy and aching. Things will be better tomorrow, right?
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