What Am I Doing...
I'm reading a new translation of Don Quixote but I have trouble holding it, keeping it open, etc. The other day I dropped it on my foot. If they had divided it into 4 parts it would be easier for me to handle.
Tuesday, last week, I met with the board and when I asked them, "What do you think?" they said, "Whatever you think is what we think," and " There is NO WAY to replace you." They were very nice to me. I hate to be so ill and feeble that I have to start easing myself out, but I don't know any other way to ensure that the children can make the transition without too much fuss, and that someone I think will be good is in the job. My chosen artist is Roseanne, and she will work with me for the next couple of weeks, then we will try to squash everyone into Tuesdays (or Brenda suggested R. work Thursdays independently, and I do just Tuesdays). Roseanne came today, and we had rather a rip-roaring half-day, with a new boy, Taylor (brother of Tommy and Sam my students of yore) added to the Sam + Andrew mix, and other things making children a bit wild.
We got our confirmation from Centrum! I have raised the dough, and also bought another digital camera for the girls to take. Things look good! Hope Mercedes can maintain. We have a ton of papers to get filled out and signed by the 6th.
Sadness and shock don't go away quickly, and I have Howard's photograph by my monitor, next to Anji's baby Ryan (Ryan-ocerous my brother calls him). I just blubbered at the memorial service, and because there were hundreds of people and I don't function well in crowds (requiring more than my fair share of space) I left then returned something like an hour later. That was perfect timing as I spoke for a moment with Steph J. and Connie S. then sat with Kath until They Took Her Away. She was incredibly dignified and composed the whole time. I asked her if she was on drugs, but no. I went home, and at 10pm was lying in bed trying to sleep when my downdownstairs neighbor came into the garage with someone, and they talked in loud voices while she made some sort of attempt to bleed the pipes to stop the noise that's been keeping me awake (it had calmed down and wasn't as loud after about a week). Whatever she did made the noise 10 times as loud and woke me up for good and all. So Thursday I had Work on No Sleep, but it was only a half day.
On Tuesday I had a two hour meeting with the BIA about paperwork. So I missed all my afternoon classes, but I will do really nice paperwork, which is important, too, I guess (bite tongue!!).
On Saturday Becky L. came over so I could help her with some web stuff. She has worked with pure monkey language, but I like to use a combination of WYSIWYG and monkey language, because it is 2004, goddammit, not the pre-millenial Dark Ages. I have given her homework (make a tile!) but won't see her until she returns from Mexico (she'll be gone a month). Fortuitously, Becky forgot her handbag when she left, so when she came back we sorted out the server thing, and her blog is here. She doesn't have much on it yet (well, or ANYTHING, actually). This is more a personal blog, I think; I believe she may add a band blog later as the process becomes more familiar. Judging by her very funny emails I believe her blog may be a scream.
She Who MNBMIMB has some exciting things going on that can't be mentioned in my blog. So I won't.
Last week I felt relatively good, but this week after jin shin I was astounded at how weak and horrid I feel. And now Frank's gone for two weeks. I want to be able to crawl in the Capital Theater to see Bubba Ho Tep with looper.
Elizabeth's site has gone nutzoid and has had nearly a thousand visitors since I put the counter up. They are mostly new parents of Down's Syndrome babies who are looking for positive things on the web. I put the address on a DS info site ages ago, but the click-a-rama is due to a parent posting the website address on a message board. I told E about the number of visitors (actually I said, "You've had over 900 visitors to your website and they ALL want you to go to work tomorrow.") and she said, "Neat! I have a FAN CLUB!" And she DOES.
Pete, who is already a Living Cultural Treasure of the Skokomish Nation, has now been named a Living Legend. Pete's traditional bent-wood boxes, masks, drums, silverwork, etc., are very beautiful, but women everywhere sympathise with Marilee. How do you make him take out the garbage when he's a Living Cultural Treasure and Legend?
I had another near-miss with a headlamp control module. The one from the '91 I spotted at Ram Wrecker's Yard doesn't fit.
Shelley got a computer and is now online! Good for her!
25 January 2004
Peanuts Are Bad
One of the one-room-schoolhouses I went to was named Stone School, on Ontario, Canada. I'm not in the group picture for it, as I was absent -- however Deborah is there looking geeky. At Stone School the boys had to demonstrate that they had a pocket handkerchief each morning, as I recall. One trick was to pull the trouser pocket insideout and claim it to be a handkerchief -- which worked, I think. I had a crush on a boy who wore his pajamas under his clothes. At one point a gypsy girl briefly attended, and sat directly in front of me. She smelled bad and her hair was an uncombed mass of tangles, so, of course, being about 6 I hated her. Her name was Stephanie. I reckon she disappeared after a week or less. At that time my cousin Christopher lived in London, Ontario, and we'd go and visit. I remember the flamboyant and thoroughly wonderful woman who lived next door, and her daughter, who was a friend of mine. We were sitting, the daughter and I, and it came up that she knew her mother's first name. With horror I learned that the wonderful woman's name was Stephanie, which name had acquired from that poor, despised little girl, an overwhelming taint! The big (to me, although she was tiny) Stephanie had grown peanuts, which was considered rather a feat. That was the first time I heard about peanuts, which I met again when I lived in the United States, and a new friend I'd met while riding around on my horse offered to make lunch for us. We rode to her house, and put our horses in her barn, then went to her house and she made peanutbutter-and-jelly-sandwiches which were truly the most horrible things I'd ever put in my mouth. I can taste them still, forty-odd years later, and I certainly haven't had one since then. I don't like peanuts outside of a few very specific items. I like Thai peanut sauce. I waver between sometimes liking and sometimes not liking Reese's peanut butter cups, and once in a while I want a piece of bread with something like pre-buyout Crazy Richard's chunky peanut butter on it. You remember the label drawn by "Charlie the Cat Drawler."
Truly, these things named "peanuts" are not to be trusted. How can one trust them -- they AREN'T NUTS. It's the depths of depravity that Mexican marzipan is made out of peanuts and not almonds. Almonds are proper nuts, and taste good. In the USA one could formerly buy proper chocolate bars, such as Kit Kats. Then, in the 1960s, Hershey bought out the US Kit Kat rights and first replaced the hazelnuts with peanuts (yuk), then took out the peanuts. One nice thing about a two-room-schoolhouse I went to in Chester Springs, Pennsylvania, was that we learned a great many weird songs. We learned "Goober Peas," (Peas, peas, peas, peas, eating goober peas. Goodness! How delicious! Eating goober peas!) an ironic Confederate Army starvation song, which was a great favorite of mine.
Related to "Pea" -- Later on I lived in Delaware. If you take a boat from Delaware City you can get to Pea Patch Island, which began as a sandbar that a bargeload of peas got stranded on (I've read, anyway). The peas grew and caused the island to form, until it became big enough for a Confederate fort to be built on it. The fort was captured by the Yankees, who made it into a prison. When I used to go there it was Unimproved, and was ruins and goats. Now it's been all titivated up, but it's still probably worth seeing. I remember an old map drawn by a Frenchman, which had the (then tiny) island labeled, "Pip Ash."
Pumpkins Are Good
As a small child in Canada I had a little teaset with the picture of something I remember as being called Punkinhead on it. I remember being 6 and making food for the burglars, as I called it for God knows what reason. I also used to call the pips in grapes "burglars," so who know what I thought the word "burglars" meant.* Anyway, there are just two pieces in my possession now, of the Punkinhead teaset. What the hell -- what in the world? I will look it up on the internet....................................................moments later
"Introduced and Sold only in Canada and England, their Wonderful Punkinhead Teddy Bear is depicted on each of these Rare Old Vintage Doll or Children's Porcelain Dishes.
This 5 Vintage Dish Set circa 1940's to early 1950's have the Famous Handpainted Character "Punkinhead" illustrated in a whimsical cartoon form in the colors of deep brown, bright red, yellow and outlined in black on all the china."
I would never have identified that creature as a teddy bear. I have had it in my mind's eye for 50 years, and I've never known what the hell it was supposed to be. The 5 pieces -- hardly what I'd call a set since it is 2 saucers, 2 plates, and a lidless, chipped sugar basin -- could be mine for $50 + $6 S&H. I see I have a saucer and an oval platter. I think I have another piece -- maybe an unchipped but lidless sugar basin. Such riches I am unworthy of possessing!
Punkinhead was from Eaton's Department Store, and that character was used for teddies, puppets, and teasets (that I've seen online and maybe there were other things). A little 10" Punkinhead teddy is listed as SOLD -- the price was $1628. Are people INSANE? Don't answer that. I would reckon my teaset came from a rummage sale, not from a store. I don't remember going to stores, although I remember perfectly well going to rummage sales. If one had the things from those sales, how lucky one would be! My old doll was from a rummage sale -- a composition doll that was likely 50 years old when I acquired her. I don't think she's worth anything to anyone but me.
*Every morning I had a boiled egg, which I would eat with "dippies," or toast fingers applied to the egg in order to suck up the yoke. After the egg was eaten I'd turn it over in the eggcup and crack it, exclaiming to my mother when the eggshell was revealed as empty, that "the burglars" had eaten the egg. I also remember peeling grapes to get a better look at the "burglars" inside.
No! That's not right! It was the SPIDERS that'd eaten the eggs.
24 January 2004
Why Are There No Editors Nowadays?
I have to thank looper ... well, Lucia -- I keep refering to people in my head by their email addresses except for superthongboi -- for recomending the book The Mezzanine, by Nicholson Baker. I have enjoyed it -- but when I hit an offending passage I just dropped it and wandered off. Then the next day I'd forgotten -- AAwk! and saw it again, but persevered. The passage, on page 99, goes, "I stood in the pose of George Washington crossing the Potomac." I presume he means he stood in the pose of Geo. Washington in that famous but much criticised painting of Washington crossing the DELAWARE RIVER on Christmas Day, 1776, in order to perpetrate a sneak attack in New Jersey. You'd be hard-pressed to get to New Jersey by crossing the Potomac River. Washington lived on the Potomac, and in the story, threw a coin across the Rappahannock, and probably did cross those rivers. However, no one stands up in a boat with his foot raised on the -- gunwale? seat? something else? (I've seen it, but I forget) -- thing like that, except in paintings. I went to school in (among other places) Pennsylvania, the Keystone State, and also lived in Delaware, the First State. I think this Baker dude is an American from New York, the Empire State -- one of the original states -- and with no excuse to get it wrong. George Washington's family was from County Durham, nearby where my mum was from, and she looked like him (I always meanly pointed out to her chagrin). At least to me they looked similar. And he had a pack of hounds because he was an avid foxhunter. I always liked the fact that he was a surveyor. I think leading a sneak attack on a religious day, especially when you and your enemy have the same religion, is pretty skanky however.
17 January 2004
My friend Howard, husband of my friend and fellow-artist Kathy, died suddenly. I'm sad. He was 49. I suppose I can't do anything helpful for Kathy, really, but I'll do what I can and remember what Anne said this morning. Her husband died at 45, when she was merely 43. She said in 3 months it really hits -- and most of the people helping you are gone by then. Howard was upbeat, loved a good joke or even a bad joke, LOVED fishing, was a kind and good man. I genuinely loved them both. It's made me think about the nature of love, and how we wish for love unmixed with other feelings. Although that may exist as an ideal, in real life love is mixed in with baser emotions. I was thinking about my sisters and how I love them, but feel irritation, annoyance, etc. at times. Ugh, can't write...
16 January 2004
E just called me to tell me she has Monday off. I said, "I'll have to mark my calendar, 'Don't Kick Elizabeth's Butt Today.'" She said, "Thank you so much," and laughed -- making a joke out of it.
Anji to Me: can't say a lot as i have posted you a letter and will only repeat myself and as i am boring i better not spoil what crappy news i do have. but you won't get the letter until end of next week...about....i guess. we have been looking after the pre-school fish for the holidays...so far so good, so in 2 weeks i will hopefully be able to return them with a smile, on my face, not theirs, but they can smile if they want to...one is called one eyed sam as he (you guessed it) only has one eye, he's very cooky looking...eerie really. have asked him to only swim with his good eye looking my way.
Me to Anji: If anything happens you can always get a replacement fish. "Guess what? Over the holidays Sam grew A NEW EYE!!!" Well, I certainly wouldn't call you boring. I should be so boring! Elizabeth ran off the rails last week because of the snowstorm, and I got an early phonecall on Monday from her boss, Bernice. "Do you know what's going on with Elizabeth?" I said, "No. Why?" "She hasn't been to work since last Monday and she won't return our phone calls." Me: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWK!!!
After my Monday jin shin appt I went to E's, pounded on the door, and pretended I had x-ray vision (I didn't know for sure she was in there). She opened the door and I flew in and told her I was taking her to work -- "Get ready. We have to be there in FIVE MINUTES." Took her to work and went in and was all angry and mean to her. I told her boss later I'm not really that mean but not to tell E. Thursday morning I get an early-morning email -- "E didn't come to work and didn't call us." But it was a false alarm as E came in 5 minutes later having missed the bus (she said it left the stop at 7:01 as she was coming down the hill to catch it and I believe her). I think I have her back on track... there were several other things I won't go into. I
think going to New York and changing her internal clock, plus the snow, got her mixed up so that she was staying up late, unable to get up. She wasn't able to get out of the evil trend herself -- I blasted through it with my
super-hero-like powers of Extreme Irritation and Biblical-Strength Meanness.
Anji feels her abilities with fish are limited since the unfortunate end of GooGooGoggles and company. I was totally into the idea of GooGooGoggles and wanted to make him a webpage, with a Fish-cam, and with Anji writing life from his viewpoint (we are all in our fishbowls anyway) as she can be very funny. I went so far as to see if the name www.googoogoggles.com was taken -- and it wasn't. Then the foul domain-name company stole the name on me, and alas, Goo croaked -- so there was nothing left but Anji's unease. I hope she can maintain these fishes. The nature of fish in captivity (and, indeed, in the wild) is to be rather ephemeral, so I don't think one should take their deaths personally, unless, like Paige, you PURPOSEFULLY DON'T EVER CLEAN THE BOWL TO KILL POOR LITTLE GUPPY (A GOLDFISH).
Out, You Visigoth Scum!
In the obits today it was revealed that a woman's last names went from Geier to Maier to Reider. In high school I had friends who became boy/girlfriend and both were surnamed "Johnson." And Marie's older brother Paul married Jack's older sister Paula. Names are interesting. I've always had the same name, and I don't have a middle name. Elizabeth is the only one in my family to have a middle name I would reckon as she was born in the USA and there was probably a line my father had to fill out that said, "middle name." Not having a middle name is normal, to me, but when I was at school children just thought I had a bad middle name and wouldn't tell it to them. At the time the bad names might've been "Edna," or "Gertrude," or something like that. For boys it might've been "Irving," "Horace," "Leslie." Name fashions change and names come into, then go out of, style. At each degree of stylishness the name appeals to a different group of people. My mother chose names that were uncommon at the time, although her choices became popular later (except Vivian). If she hadn't named me Vivian she would've called me Morag -- after her friend at the time who was married to an airline pilot. Morag would be a mess when her husband was out of town, then get spiffed up when he was due to return. She said, "There -- isn't it nice!" about the extreme change. I wanted to be called Morag and not Vivian, as a child. Actually I still do. I used to not like "Vivian" -- I am reconciled, now, though.
Vivian: from the Latin for "Lively but Gets Crippled in Later Life." Saint Vivian was a French bishop who protected people during the Visigoth invasion in the 5th century.
Morag wouldn't've been very suitable as I'm not Scottish. It's also related in some weird way to Sarah -- which is Elizabeth's middle name. We are related weirdly enough as it is. That puts me right back to being happy to be Vivian, I suppose.
Dave Riding Around in Illinois
I'm being driven mad from lack of sleep again by a horrid noise that sounds like this: nnnnnnnnnnnnnnCA-CHUNK every five minutes all night. My landlord thought air might be in the hot pipes (heat is hot water) and assigned me to sit in the garage and listen, which I'd already done. It's not louder when I am cosied up to the water heater. I noticed what I think is a (related? unrelated?) valve problem while I was sitting there -- it's difficult for me to do nothing so I was "reading" the plumbing. As I was doing laundry I was thinking about noise. I want to open a door and thereby dilute the noise (since it woiuld have to fill that room) so it would be less loud upstairs. Last night I tried sleeping on the couch, but that was terrible. It's been a problem since Sunday. TJ doesn't hear it, and I don't know about Tom.
Beautiful As Usual
15 January 2004
14 January 2004
I've always liked to read obituaries. Why? Well, because I'm interested in knowing about people's lives, and an obituary is an accounting of a life. I realise that I read blogs for exactly the same reason. I can read about the daily life and thoughts of someone -- anyone. I used to like walking past houses at dusk -- when the lights were on but the curtains were not yet drawn, as it was a little slice of someone's life -- the furniture chosen, and how it was arranged. The objects displayed, the art on the walls. When I painted I did a series of paintings about bushes -- houses with bushes planted too close because the bush was tiny when it was planted 25 years before... I've always looked for clues so I could try to understand this world I live in...
Email to Rayne:
Elizabeth is Down's Syndrome, and is smart, makes very funny comments(on purpose to be funny), and generally is a person that others like to be around. She's also extremely stubborn, independent, and goes into an avoidance mode when she's in trouble. When she was small she was well served by the first two traits. She WOULD tie her shoes herself and NO ONE was going to help her -- and maybe it would take 15 minutes but just GET OVER IT. She "stubbornly" persisted in learning and overcoming obstacles -- but she's not as smart as she thinks she is, or as independent as she'd like to be. Right now I'm dealing with your basic shitstorm (an every-once-in-a-while thing) -- she didn't go to work for 5 days, answer her telephone, or obey her job coach who came to her apartment to take her to work -- and her apt. manager called me this morning to say there've been complaints about loud TV and music. AND I bought her a computer desk for Christmas that UPS has been trying to deliver for over a week -- but because she's in avoidance mode she didn't tell me they had left notices (and hadn't answered her door apparently). AND she missed a dr. appt when I asked her last week to check the date because I knew it was coming up -- but she didn't until yesterday (after I dragged her to work so she was trying to make it up to me by doing something I'd asked) by which time it was too late. Elizabeth could be a full time job. Elizabeth's website (I have been trying to find her an email buddy) is here
When I started my blog it was to think about the way things might be improved -- in general -- such as identifying basic needs and thinking about the way our society might look if we honored those needs. I haven't got very far. Well -- I HAVE thought about it myself, but my blog degenerated into a doom-fest. So now I'm trying consciously to keep my blog on the nicer side. I told my friend Lucia (MacArthur award-winning poet!) that I might have to have a shadow blog to vent my spleen into. However, this year might well be better than last year (both my parents died last year), so maybe I'll perk up and won't need a shadow blog!
13 January 2004
Next Stop Mars
12 January 2004
Everything Haywire AGAIN
Up at 7 to have enough time to get money before going to jin shin. E's boss called at about 7:30. "I was wondering if you know what's going on with E?" It turned out she hasn't been to work, and although she'd told me her boss told her to stay home because of the snow -- that wasn't correct. And she hasn't been answering her job coach's calls. I said, "Oh my god, what should I do?" Her boss was very nice and we discussed the possibility of E being ill. I went to jin shin, then went to E's place and pounded on the door. I said, "Elizabeth, open the door," even though I wasn't sure she was in there. If I'd said, "Are you in there," I would probably still be pounding. I was GOING to ask how she was, ask what was wrong -- but I just said, "Get your work clothes on. I'm taking you to work RIGHT NOW." She went into her bedroom and I thought she'd locked the door, so I (after a while) said, "We have to be there in 5 minutes." She hadn't locked it, though, which was good. Then I drove her to work and went in with her. She wanted me to, which I'd never have thought. She was embarrassed and became red in the face when greeting her co-workers. I think that possible A) she got into a bad habit (One week off work is nice! And it didn't make any difference! Therefore every week off work will be fun and won't make any difference!), B) she got into a trend that she couldn't reverse or C) maybe she's depressed. Or maybe it's something else. Frank thinks I'm unwise to say, "You'll have to go and live with Deborah," as maybe she wants to.
Someone's dock has slipped free and is roaming the lake.
11 January 2004
TJ p/c from Egypt
L of the OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Went to see LotR, which began at 10:25 in the morning. The cinema was still quite respectably filled with customers at that early (to me) hour. In the beginning Smeagol is transforming into Gollum, and one shot midway -- hand up, wisp of hair -- looked unmistakeably like Michael Jackson. I enjoyed the books, and I've enjoyed the movies, too, except I didn't like how everything has been gigantisized. I reckon that's just a sign of our time -- but I don't like it. Towers too high, armies too big, etc. I had wondered if they would have the dead in there or leave that part out -- was in there, and quite well done. And the spider part, too, which in the book I didn't like, for some reason. I liked this movie -- 3 -- better than 2. The best one was 1, of course, but then so it always goes. Finally Aragorn washed his hair, then his elf appears immediately. See, Aragorn -- it was just your HAIR. One of the Seattle papers had a LotR haiku jamboree, and many of them were by women chiding Aragorn for his stringy locks. I didn't care, but then, of course, I'm more in favor of things in the flicks being grubby when it's appropriate, instead of nicey-nicey. There was a general weep-fest after the job was done, and I had a minor cosmic flash -- everything people do is to get to that moment of, "It was tough, but we did it! I can't believe it! We're friends forever -- no one else could understand this shared experience blah blah..." I've been just as prone to it as anyone, and I'm not saying it's bad -- but I do think it's a feeling that can be exploited quite easily. Oh, well, I haven't really thought this through yet...
Then stopped to see if E needed grocerifying, but she denied having that need. Next week we will go and spend two checks. I know she went to the outlet on Friday, so I hope she didn't go too wild.
E and Lucia and Susan went to the Elvis show at the Capitol Theater. I got this started by taking E 4 years ago! Then Lucia and Jim took her, then we all went last year, and now L and Susan have gone with E. It's a highpoint of the year for Elizabeth.
The grassroots movement to send Bush to Mars is gaining momentum.
10 January 2004
I still hope I might wake up tomorrow all cured. I don't THINK that will happen -- I merely HOPE it will. What is hope, anyway? Is it just a built-in feeling that nature uses to trick us into going on -- useful to nature when we are of child-bearing age, but after that just a leftover, like breasts that can no longer feed infants? What if a truck came by to pick up all the child-bearing things now that I don't need them? "You won't be needing this..." as my breasts, etc. go into the back of the truck. Would hope go too? What else WOULD go?
I think we should all GET BEHIND the man-to-Mars mission and I know just which man we ought to send.
This illegal immigrant idea is really a horrible Bush thing. Talk about
slapping every legal immigrant in the face... plus every
trying-legally-to-be-an-immigrant... plus every citizen... all taxpayers... plus anyone I left out. I'm rather agog that the number proposed is 8-14 million illegal immigrants. That's um... more people than my school has hired, unless you count parapros. The entire population of Australia is not so very many more than that. Al Qaeda must be sending lots of men over here JUST IN CASE.
T said, "B tried to get insurance before his Cobra ran
out--Of course he was turned down. Well, he can have
all the fun of knowing that sometime after we have
probably all died because we couldn't afford health
insurance something will in all likelyhood crash on
I guess investing in a kinder and more humane society
is out of the question."
I've only visited the Barnes collection once in -- oh, what year... 1989 or 90. It has always been difficult, by design, to see the things in the Merion, Pennsylvania house that represent years of astute (and lucky) collecting. I remember a warm day. And being bowled over by the medieval ironwork on display in the rooms which gave a new meaning to "crammed." I was bowled over by a lot of things, actually. As a painter I was very interested in the Cezannes, etc., and we didn't have as much time to go through it all as I'd've wished. The Barnes Foundation has been in the news for years -- it seems never to be OUT -- but now it's REALLY in the news. They say that for the Barnes Foundation to survive it has to move to the Ben Franklin Parkway (my old stomping grounds) to be alongside the art museum, the Rodin Museum, and in the best spot for paying customers who will be able to park without causing neighborhood complaints. It was always the grooviest thing about the Barnes that it was so bound with strictures that no one could get in, or even know what was in there, without the utmost difficulty (or living nearby). But - things change and move on. We live in a world where things are so crowded there's no place for extreme regulation of inflow. Even when a tiny percentage of the world's population wants in, that adds up to far more than the Barnes founder wanted in. My advice is: put all the fabulous paintings in a building on Ben Franklin Parkway. Change the Barnes Foundation to a collection of all the other things... The medieval ironwork stands out to me, but they have an incredible variety of beautiful objucts. Besides, it's not the style anymore to display things in the crowded way the things are displayed here. Well, if they could get a court order allowing them to break the strictures...
One never thinks before one becomes ill that a trip to see something will be the last one. At the time I'd've thought, "Well, I can always come back." Indeed, with so many beautiful things, one visit is scratching the surface. I've always become overloaded quite quickly -- so anything after I reach that point is wasted. There isn't any advice I could give -- such as "Live every day as though it is your last." Come now.
09 January 2004
"He was a cut-up all his life. He often said that he wanted to live a long happy life, die, and turn into something good to eat. Two out of three ain't bad."
I got a chatty Times Square postcard from Elizabeth. I think her writing has improved. I couldn't understand part of it, which probably means she has the wrong word in there.
06 January 2004
Under the heading "What happens when it snows in Seattle," Jamie writes:
At 6:00 this morning my phone rang.
Robin-"SNOW DAY.......WOO HOO!!!!!"
and so the madness ensued.......
P.S. If a man is in his underwear running down the street
screaming "I need pants" be sure to have a camera around
I asked about his story and she replied:
The whole thing happened so fast. I was laughing so hard that all I could do was hold the camera still. As for his story.... I like to think that he is a well mannered young man that was out for a stroll and was so inspired by the beauty and oddness of the weather that it overtook him. Before long he found himself lost, without his clothes. In a desperate attempt to remedy the situation, he found the nearest cardboard piece and marker and wandered the streets looking for some sympathy.
About My Cannon
I don't -- regardless of my post in which I implied otherwise -- have a cannon.
My friend (well, she is now -- a blogosphere friend) R mentioned my cannon and I confessed to her that:
Well -- I don't really have a cannon -- but that was a "story" in honor of the Life of Pi. Actually, I could use one. What was in my head was something Butthole Surfer Gibby Haynes mentioned about his college frat-house days -- he was the one in charge of setting off the little cannon, and how cool that was. I think I've seen, and not just heard about, those little cannons (which are about maybe 2.5' high). I wonder where they are sold? Frat-house supply catalogs?
R sleuthed around and found: Personal Cannon
Ever since I saw it I can't stop doing this: Aaaawwwwwwwk!!!!!!!!!!!
Two to Three Feet?? Explosive-tipped shells??
We are having a snowstorm, and 10 inches was predicted. I didn't believe it, but at the rate snow is now coming down I'm sure it must be correct. It's also supposed to warm up to above freezing tonight, and the snow will disappear into rain tomorrow. I want to enjoy the fluffy goodness while it's here.
I have seen the bald eagles out hunting today, and if I only had an animal to tie onto the deck I'd bet I could get some nice photographs. Maybe I'll try sitting on the deck with a jalapeno in my teeth. My usual eagle photos have a black dot representing eagle+time it takes me to get camera. Eagles fly around here all the time, and frequently so close to where I'm writing in my blog or whatever (I live on the top floor of a house) that I can see the spines of the feathers. When the eagles have a nest they get annoyed when an osprey gets within half a mile, and I've seen -- many times -- an eagle chasing an osprey with the osprey using every tactic it knows to avoid being killed. The eagles are bigger and faster, but the ospreys are more agile. The eagle tries to get above the osprey so it can stoop, but the osprey twists and manages to keep above the eagle. It always ends with the osprey climbing higher and higher in the sky until the eagles decides there isn't a threat any more.
E in NY
E called me and told me some of what she did (NBC tour, boat trip, Hard Rock Cafe, Rockettes show) while in New York. I said "write it down and email it to me so you can have it on your website." Illustrated with the photos I haven't yet seen. It would be a nice addition.
American Airlines, says David, did a great job in ensuring that E, a DD adult, made the plane trip all right. He said she was given a little bag that hung around her neck, and contained all the necessary what-have-yous. Elizabeth has expressed the most positive things to me, and is clearly proud of having traveled by herself. Yay American Airlines!
The eagle just went by again. The poor soul must be hungry. S/He seems to hunt the lake in a clockwise direction.
05 January 2004
We are supposed to get another 10 inches between now and tomorrow afternoon! That's a lot for us. Things were icy/snowy today, but tomorrow there'll be nasty road conditions, and most schools have cancelled. I'm not sure what's going down with the Lut, but I reckon they'll not have school if the storm isn't a figment of someone's imagination. Connie and Dave had a spin-out fender bender but were ok. I went to my Monday morning jin shin appointment, but due to a bug I had to poo three times before I left the house. Marilee is devastated because she can't find her mother's ring. She took it off and put it down (in her accustomed spot she thinks) and it isn't there. A friend is having a CT scan on Wednesday. Obviously we are orbiting through a part of space with a lot of troubles in it. I hope the things all turn out to be temporary, minor troubles.
03 January 2004
E is home, and called Lucia RIGHT AWAY, then called me. Typical. Me: How way your trip? E: Good. Me: How are Karen and Lenny? E: Good. Me: That doesn't tell me anything. How was the flight? E: Good. Me: So... you got on the plane. Were you BY YOURSELF??? E: Yes. Me: No PILOT?? E: Pilot? You mean the captain? He was waving at me. Me: Did you meet him? E: Yes. Me: Did you have a stewardess or a steward? E: A lady. Me: A stewardess. What was the movie? E: Well... on Friday on the flight to New York... I don't remember. Me: What was the movie you saw today? E: I don't know. Me: Didn't you watch a movie? E: I did WATCH it but I listened to music. Me: Go to work on Monday no matter how much snow there is or I will kick your butt. E: I know, I will. Me: If you want to go to camp you can't take more time off. E: I know, I know.
02 January 2004
I've been lying in bed sick all day -- well, or trying -- with a terrible headache I can't take anything for. My sole remedy is water -- I'm drinking a lot of water. Anyway, I obviously have too much time to think because I have been thinking long and hard about many things, including a movie I saw yesterday that I didn't like.
Something's Gotta Give
A bad movie. Boring. Felt like it was four hours long, was stupid, and made me unhappy. However THAT DIDN'T STOP ME FROM THINKING ABOUT IT today, which is a clue as to how rotten I feel. I decided this movie has much in common with a good movie I saw so long ago it had Spencer Tracy in it. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. In that movie, the only reason the parents could possibly object to the daughter's perfect boyfriend (voters take note: he's a DOCTOR!) was his color. In this new movie, the only reason the woman could object to her perfect (he's a DOCTOR!) suitor is his age. The old movie said the time was ripe to GET OVER the color barrier. The new movie says that fear still keeps people from getting over the age barrier. Familiarity make the woman fall back on an older suitor who has no track record for true intimacy. The young suitor seems like a sincere person. The older suitor doesn't even seem like a person at all. Sigh. Humpf.
I try not to buy things made from animals that live awful lives, however, with the m.s. sometimes I just have to reach for whatever's closest. That's why I had eggs from sad chickens. I even make E buy happy chicken eggs, because, I tell her, you can taste the unhappiness. The unhappiness isn't a taste in the egg, but the eggs are very terrible compared to real eggs, and I, for one, can't stop thinking about the sadness, so it does affect me. I made an omelet from the sad eggs, and I've spend hours thinking about the whole thing and feeling badly about it. It popped into my head: Out of sight, out of mind. Then I thought about how the strange things people do are usually survival stratedgies. So "Out of sight, out of mind" is a survival tactic of the human race. I think if one had a list of sayings like "Out of sight, out of mind" they'd give a picture of how we've evolved to deal with life and survive. I can imagine a graph with the points plotted. Once years ago I was on a plane next to a young fellow who told me his job involved ways numerical data could be entered into a computer and transformed in any useful way. I said, "How cool -- you could transform the sales data into a landscape and fly over the peaks and valleys like in a video game!" That was something he'd never thought about, but it seems that, too, one could plot the survival tactics and unravel how they were arrived at -- then be able to figure out how a human race with different survival needs would've evolved. We are still using these tactics from thousands of years ago, when we've altered the world and the tactics are holding us back. Well, maybe -- an interesting point to ponder. me go now me brain hurt hurt