Sunday, November 11, 2007

In Flanders Fields
Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army



In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.


We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.


Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Not much to say; just figured I may as well say something as it's been a while.

Not so pumped about the TV writers' strike. Moonlighting had to deal with the last big one, back in '88. It's not a federal case or anything, and Lord knows there's plenty in this world that's more important, but it's nice to have an escape, once and a while. And Jim and Pam finally got together. Darn it!

Today traded places with one of my co-workers and did his job for the day. What fun. Things are totally different where he works. Everyone was very nice, helpful, welcoming, willing to try anything. Just different. Had a great time.

Am tired but just can't make myself go to bed. Hm.

Spent time cleaning today, some stuff that has been sitting around gathering dust for quite some time. Hung up piles of clean clothes, made the bed, etc.

Got a book the other day - Country Wisdom and Know-How: Everything You Need to Know to Live Off the Land. Stinkin' awesome. Covers everything from how to build a chicken coop to cooking with tofu to chair caning and seat weaving. You can't go wrong with that.

Went out with T yesterday to Penzey's, lunch, and a yarn shop that is unfortunately closing. We had a good time. Got some sock yarn. Think I'm going to try to crochet some socks. Have been crafty lately. This weekend did some canning, crocheting, soap making.

I can't "p" again. Stupid keyboard.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

So I walked in the door after work today, Jimmy John's in hand, to find the radio on. Hmm. Could have sworn I'd turned it off. What the heck...

Oh Lord.

Turns out, somebody who shall remain nameless (my money is on the Littler of the two Sh!t Sisters pictured in the heading of this blog.) decided to dig for China in the plant limping along on the buffet next to the radio.

Dirt and plant bits everywhere, the water bowl contents turned to mud. I hope they were thirsty while I was gone, darn it.

And of course by the time I get home the deed is done and it's too late to yell at anyone. You have to strike when the iron is hot, and they'd both long forgotten when I finally saw the evidence. *sigh*


I've just been cranky lately. I swear everything is going to hell. I've sent out enough sympathy cards in the last few weeks that I should have bought stock in Hallmark, work is insane to the point that I'm spending only two extra hours a day there on a good day, and I'm so late doing more work at home I'm not getting any sleep. When I do finally get to bed I'm too wound up to relax. I'm thinking about all I have to do.

And that one letter on my keyboard? It's not working again, at least not consistently. I can no longer say things about Peeves the Poltergeist.

OK, now it's working. WTH?

'Kay, rant done. Time for bed. Shout out to any of you in Cali who may be reading this. Stay safe.




"One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important." ~Bertrand Russell

“Stress is when you wake up screaming and you realize you haven't fallen asleep yet”


“Stress: The confusion created when one's mind overrides the body's basic desire to choke the living daylights out of some jerk who desperately deserves it”

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Went to what should have been an excellent concert last night: Strauss Metamorphosen and Beethoven 4. It mostly was an excellent concert, really. Except for That Woman.

In this particular hall there's a tier of seats that goes up and around the main floor, doing a 360 including behind the stage. It lends an interesting perspective for those who want to get up to see the conductor from much the same angle as the orchestra. Problem was, some idiot was up in the area behind the stage and insisted on taking pictures for most of the Beethoven. So the $%^&@! orange blinking light of her camera was flashing out at pretty much the entire audience. I could cheerfully have thrown her off the balcony. As could the rest of the audience. You could hear the undercurrent of grumblings every time she lifted that devil device and at least three people got up to talk to the usher nearest me in an attempt to get someone, anyone, to go find that woman and make her stop.

Unfortunately, no one did.

She would take a picture, turn to the woman next to her to look at the digital display, raise the camera, take another picture, scoot along the bench to find a different angle, raise the camera, take another picture... This has hands-down got to be the rudest behavior I've ever seen exhibited at a concert, and that includes people reading the paper, watch alarms going off, and cell phones bleeping. And I'm way past losing track of the number of concerts I've been to.

I don't know what the heck was in the minds of the usher corps, but I'm thinking not a single person in the audience would have called the cops if we happened to notice That Woman having a quiet accident. We'd have applauded.

Hey lady - if by some strange chance you're reading this, do us all a favor and stay home until you learn how to behave in public.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Soul Renewal and Robert Frost

Soul Renewal

It's the first sunny day in weeks. I've almost forgotten the color of a truly blue sky. I decide to make the 4 mile walk to the lake and back. Who knows when a day this nice will come again.

There's a million people out. We know and appreciate the rarity of a nice day, here in October in the Midwest. It's been so rainy lately; the sky lowering all the time. But somehow, no one is talking. It's like we all agree on the value of nothingness, of just being.

It's warm enough for shorts and t-shirts, another rarity in October.

The sound of the bike gears catching as the old man passes me, bright blue bike helmet and backpack on, wearing reflectors on his arms and legs even though it is the middle of a sunny day. He struggles his way up the hill. I am almost pacing him. Then the hill crests and his pace increases. He continues on without me, blazing a trail for me to follow.

Black ducks almost as far as I could see, taking a break for a rest and a drink before continuing their southward journey.

A sailboat catching the stiff breeze passes a fishing boat steaming out hopefully towards a possible walleye feast.

A stream giggling it's way towards the lake.

The woman wearing an iPod on one hip and her cell phone in the opposite ear, chattering away. The only possible conclusion is that she must be clinically insane.

The only sounds the wind as it rustles past my ears, through the leaves still clutching to the tree that is their summer home.

Scuffling through the fallen leaves to hear them crackle and crunch.

I'm almost home when I feel my shoulders drop into the place designed for them; I tend to forget that my habitual clench is not natural.

I wish this would last, but fall is inherently ephemeral. That may be the real reason for it's beauty.

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Had some excitement at church this morning. Was out in the gathering space (fancy name for huge foyer area) checking to make sure the volume was up high enough so people out there could hear when I heard this beep...beep...beep...

Hmm.

Grabbed my father. Dragged him out there. Asked him if he heard it too.

He listened for a bit... yes, yes he did.

Uh oh.

So we went trucking towards the source of the sound, which seemed to be coming from the part of the church that opens up into the Hall (area for wedding receptions, chicken dinners, bingo and the like). It kept getting louder. Beep... BEEP... BEEP! We grabbed the music director on the way, as she was walking by and has keys for everything. The sound kept getting louder as we three headed towards the school. Was that the fire alarm? Was the school on fire? Were we going to have to evacuate a good 1500 people in the church?

We got through the last door into the school and found adults leading what looked like 1st graders out the door. Just a drill, they said.

Just a drill? What the heck were they thinking, just a drill? Could it have occurred to them to warn us that they'd be conducting a fire drill during church? Could they maybe have bumped the thing back a lousy 30 minutes to avoid all this in the first place? I could have strangled somebody. Who knows what sort of panic that could have set off. Think, people, think. *sigh*

Although in hindsight, it's a little scary that the gathering space was full of people who didn't want to be in the main sanctuary for some reason (small children and the like) and no one came in to tell any of us about the alarm.

When you usher in a large parish, you get used to things happening. We haven't had somebody go down in a few weeks, but we're always prepared to have to call the local Finest to come out and save the day. We have EMTs come to visit several times a year. Fainting is the most common, but we've also had diabetic reactions and heart issues.

Scariest one ever (that I had anything to do with) was the poor Mexican woman who had come to church in a vain search for comfort... she couldn't reach her sick father in Mexico by telephone and was terrified he had died... she kept banging her head against the wall and asking God to take her instead of her father...

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Song of the Day: "Out Of My League" by Stephen Speaks

it's her hair and her eyes today
that just simply take me away

and the feeling that i'm falling further in love
makes me shiver but in a good way
all the times i have sat and stared

as she thoughtfully thumbs through her hair
and she purses her lips, bats her eyes as she plays,
with me sitting there slack-jawed and nothing to say

coz i love her with all that i am
and my voice shakes along with my hands
coz she’s all that I see and she’s all that I need
and i'm out of my league once again

it's a masterful melody when she calls out my name to me
as the world spins around her she laughs, rolls her eyes
and i feel like i'm falling but it's no surprise

coz i love her with all that i am
and my voice shakes along with my hands
cause it's frightening to be swimming in this strange sea
but i'd rather be here than on land
yes she's all that i see and she's all that i need
and i'm out of my league once again

it's her hair and her eyes today
that just simply take me away
and the feeling that i'm falling further in love
makes me shiver but in a good way
all the times i have sat and stared
as she thoughtfully thumbs through her hair
and she purses her lips, bats her eyes as she plays,
with me sitting there slack-jawed and nothing to say

coz i love her with all that i am
and my voice shakes along with my hands
cause it's frightening to be swimming in this strange sea
but i'd rather be here than on land
yes she's all that i see and she's all that i need
and i'm out of my league once again

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

"There were four million people in the American Colonies and we had Jefferson and Franklin. Now we have over 200 million and the two top guys are Clinton and Dole. What can you draw from this? Darwin was wrong!"
-Mort Sahl

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Darn that Ken Burns and curse PBS. I should know better than to watch that station. I get sucked into a program and then before I know it I've lost a week. Happens every time. The music is particularly good; generally Burns sticks with folk and popular music of the time but this time he included some classical stuff including the Faure Elegy and I think I might have heard Beethoven 7 at some point. As usual from Burns, incredible work.

Gotta go now - 3rd installment on any minute now.

"Personally, I feel that some such setback as that -- tragic though it was for many Americans, for whom it would always be too late -- was not entirely a bad thing. It was all right to have a good opinion of ourselves, but we Americans were so smug with our cockiness. We somehow felt that just because we were Americans we could whip our weight in wildcats. And we had got it into our heads that production alone would win the war."
-Ernie Pyle on the disasters in North Africa

Monday, September 17, 2007

Nothing much to say; just wanted to say a few words.

Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak.

Thank you.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

OH my God.


Oh MY God.



Oh my GOD.





OH. MY. GOD!!!


OK, so I have a really good story.


I got home from work after another long day determined to get some tasks done around here that have been much put off. I got to the grocery store, put dishes in the dishwasher, and prepared to finally do my laundry.

Some context: I'd noticed my bedroom had been... well... a little smelly for the past couple of days. My first thought was the cats had left me a present, as they sometimes do in protest at the state of their litter box. I rooted around a little bit, but nothing was out in the open and I didn't have time to search too hard - haven't been home much this week due to work. Still no sign of why it smelled... hmm... maybe it's the laundry?

So last night, I sniffed the basket.

OK, it's the laundry. Not good.

I figured I must have put a wet washcloth in there or something and it had migrated towards the bottom and started to get a little ripe. Obviously a sign that I need to get moving and get this washing clothes thing taken care of.

So I got home from the grocery store, sorted my piles, and brought them down to the laundry room.


I washed. Hmm... do I still smell something, or am I imagining things?


I dried. I opened the dryer. I smelled...


OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!!


THERE'S A DEAD MOUSE! IN THE DRYER! IN MY LAUNDRY! A MOUSE! DEAD! LAUNDRY! DEAD! MOUSE!

OH MY GOD!



So I went back to my apartment, saying "Oh my God!" the entire way down the hall, in an attempt to find something to pick the mouse up with. The clean mouse, being I'd washed and dried it. Good Lord. I got paper towels first but couldn't figure out how to get the thing in the paper towel without touching it, so I Oh My Godded my way back to my apartment again to root around for another solution. My eyes lit upon my junk mail. I grabbed that and between the paper toweling and the ads I was able to pick the thing up quick and chuck it straight in the laundry room communal garbage can. I should have disposed of it outside, I suppose, but screw that.

So now, imagine this, I'm doing laundry again. Two more washes, each. Ick.

How the thing got in here I don't know. Dad thought it perhaps snuck in through the air conditioner. Entirely possible. But why? It's not cold outside yet, and this house presumably contains enough Eau de Cat to keep out any rodent with half a brain.

I have gotten over the slight low grade panic, but I am still definetly grossed out. It was dead in my clothes...

And I obviously live with two worthless freeloaders. What the hell?

Sunday, September 02, 2007

My entire body hurts.

Dancing like a maniac for 3 1/2 hours followed by sitting in a car much of the next day will do that to you.

Why, oh why do I insist on doing the Pony so vertically? Why do I have to hop on the Electric Slide turn? Why didn't I take off my 3" heels before the returned soldier dragged me out on the floor? Why did I wear those heels in the first place?

I have blisters on my toes, my calves have seized up, my back cracks every time I move. This had better be over by tomorrow morning.

I have to say, though. I've been to loads of weddings. Likely in the hundreds, somewhere. And this has to be about the best one I've ever been at. Well, it may be #2, as seeing a bride breathing fire in her wedding dress is probably never going to be beaten.

It was just perfect. Casual, on the lake at sunset, and them.

So many people seem to have this image in their head of what The Ideal Wedding must be. White dress, matching bridesmaids, fancy flowers, white tablecloths. Tuxes and suits, satin and heels dyed to match. The ever-present Canon. Oh, how I hate that thing.

The only person in anything remotely like a tux was the groom, who left off the suit coat portion. The 7 month old son of the couple dropped the ring box in the grass. The bride giggled when she read her vows, stumbling a bit over the words she wrote. The groom sang his vows, to a tune he wrote and with the accompaniment of his guitar that his buddy forgot to tune before the ceremony. We stood out in the grass and watched them gaze into each other's eyes. At least one onlooker was holding a beer.

We all cried.

It's a second wedding for them both. None too elaborate, none too fancy, none too ornate. They both had been there, done that. Realized they'd made a mistake. Now that they'd finally found who they were meant to be with, this time was for them, to fit who they really were and not who they presumed they should be.

Perfect.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Tomorrow should prove to be an interesting day. I'm headed 'cross the border again to That Town. Friend getting married. Staying in a hotel for jah's sake, a cheezy Super 8, in the town I lived in for ten years of my life.

It's like I'm on Life Part IV:
I) Childhood
II) College
III) First job
IV) Second job, i.e. now

So weird. Parts 2 and 4 intersected at the end of July; parts 3 and 4 will intersect this weekend.

Parts 1 and 4 collide all the time. It's like I'm four different people, but I'm not.

So weird.

Wedding should be a good time, though. It's a couple of former co-workers and they're both really great people. They're getting hitched on the beach at sunset, and I'm sure it's going to be just beautiful. It's likely to be a hell of a party. They know fun people, and I've more than once closed a place down while in their company. I'm also hoping to see loads of former co-workers. I miss that place sometimes. The feeling of family. I've yet to find that here, with work, at least. But I can consider my two closest co-workers friends, I think, and that's a good start.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

"There’re only six things you need if you want to snag a good woman: A guitar, chicken, wine, a car, running water, and some permanent markers. If you don’t have a guitar, a lute will do. You get those six things and you’re Don Juan, trust me."

-Creed Bratton

Friday, August 24, 2007

So my cat just lost my jump drive. That I got from work. Yesterday. *sigh* That's what I get for putting a nice tempting chord on the end of it. I now have three jump drives - one for work I just received, one work gave me in the bag of chords I also got yesterday to go with my other new computer toys (I think they'd forgotten they already gave me one), and the personal one I bought two years ago before work finally got with the times. Oh - two squirrels are chasing each other around the tree outside. Maybe this'll distract the cat enough to give me the opportunity I need... ah yes, there it is. Right under her butt. Lovely.

I got a bunch of toys yesterday, which was quite nice. The folks who organized these things did a great job idiot-proofing it all. The chords are labeled which end goes in to which end, we have instructions online, we practiced it in the lab at the office, etc. My problem is needing to write a grant and jump through a ton of hoops in order to get stuff I should be getting anyway. Drives me nuts.

Headed out to the Fair today. Met H and M at a park and ride at the U. H and I have been doing this almost every year for a long time. It was fun to have an 8 month old along - M especially liked the poultry barn. I didn't even get pooped on. The food was yummy as always. Had a deep fried candy bar, which I haven't had in a while. Mmm. Fried fruit was new this year, and different than I thought it would be. Decent, though. The fruit was a little tasteless. Lost something in the frying process. A cousin of mine entered knitted socks and won a blue ribbon, which is pretty cool. I'm happy for her. She makes awesome stuff, and deserves to be recognized. Someday, I hope to have both the guts and the skill to do that myself.

A sad little update - they think they've found everyone now and we're up to 13 dead. That plus the 7 dead in flooding this weekend makes for quite a couple of weeks around here. Between the drought, the floods, and the bridge, I wonder how much geography is currently listed as a federal disaster area.

The painters are still here, still sitting around on the steps of the building opposite, smoking (leaving butts everywhere of course), and making crude comments really loudly. Sure wish they'd get things done and go bother someone else.

Had a good time at the family reunion. Cousin of mine showed up unexpectedly, and it was nice having the prodigal back home. He stayed with his sister and drove up a little late, just to surprise them. Could only stay for a few hours as he had to fly out again. He made some serious points with his folks, that's for sure. Cold as heck, though. We baked last year and froze this. Ugh. Predictable, I suppose.

Song of the day: Hey There Delilah by the Plain White T's. I know, I know, it's been everywhere lately. Boring. But I swear I liked it before it hit heavy rotation. Combo of acoustic guitar and strings, I think. Gets me every time.

Friday, August 17, 2007

I got pooped on today.

How, you may ask, is that different from any other day? Ah, because I was pooped on with real poop instead of metaphorical poop. Pea green baby poop, to be precise, all over my left leg. Thankfully, the leg was covered with pants at the time, but it was a small comfort. This after the same child grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled it forward to look down. And I'd never even met him before! Kids these days. Just too precocious.

Tomorrow morning I have to be at the folks' at 7:30 for the trip up north for the family reunion. Will be nice to see the fam, but not nice that early in the a.m. on a Saturday. Eesh.

Thursday, August 09, 2007

Today I had to travel about an hour south of here to go to a workshop for work.


Different bridge (obviously). Different river. Same road.


It was a little disconcerting.




More bodies were pulled out today, bringing the total officially to 6 identified; the other remains they're not sure, but they think it might be of two other people.

"They're not sure." "It might."

Can't say I would want to be one of those divers.




At the workshop this afternoon, one of our presenters named Bridget was telling a story. She quoted a conversation she had with someone. "Bridge..."

The whole room tensed. You could feel us all take a collective breath. It took us a second to realize she was referring to the other person's nickname for her, not a slab of concrete and metal that should be suspended 60 feet above a river but instead is a part of it.




It's no longer the lead story on CNN. Local news reports are talking about the lack of rain again, and discussing training camp for college football. We're moving on, or trying to.


I'm thinking people are going to be jumpy for a while yet.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

SONNET 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Saturday, August 04, 2007

"It is really true what philosophy tells us, that life must be understood backwards. But with this, one forgets the second proposition, that it must be lived forwards. A proposition which, the more it is subjected to careful thought, the more it ends up concluding precisely that life at any given moment cannot really ever be fully understood; exactly because there is no single moment where time stops completely in order for me to take position [to do this]: going backwards."

(Or, as it is often shortened to: "Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.") - Søren Kierkegaard, Danish philosopher (1813-1855). From Journalen JJ:167 (1843)


So here I sit on a rainy (for once) Saturday morning, the cat's tail firmly planted on my keyboard as she sinks down low, only her ears and alert whiskers showing out the window to the two crows causing a ruckus outside. She tips her head up so she can see and doesn't move a muscle, barely breathing. This is Great White Hunter mode, and I see it fairly often due to the abundance of squirrels and birds of various sorts around here. What she thinks she'd do with these crows if she got them I don't know, and I don't want to know. Yesterday we had a squirrel on the deck, munching on one of my plants that I have a hard enough time keeping alive as it is, thank you very much. They both sleeked down into Hunter Mode, the one flat to the floor in front of the patio door, the other pasted to the back of the couch, only eyes moving, an occasional ear twitch. The squirrel just sat there calmly eating lunch, its front two paws shoving the stolen goods into its mouth, for whatever reason not realizing that there was a deadly predator less than 8 feet away. It got done and made to run across the deck, and that's when it finally noticed it was being stalked. Squirrel panic! It shot a couple of feet back and forth in indecision, then down the corner pole and away. The cats seemed disappointed. But there's always another creature to stalk. Perhaps next time they'll really kill the Big Bad Milk Jug Ring before it escapes. One never knows. It pays to be prepared, always.

29 folks in the hospital, 8 still missing and presumed dead. The NTSB figures the south end of the bridge shifted 81 feet but they're thinking that's not the cause of the problem. What that means, I don't know. Dubya spent time today crawling around on the wreckage, or doing whatever his Secret Service people and his spin doctors felt he should do. Unfortunate that more couldn't have been done before, instead of all this flurry after. But then, that's the way it always happens, isn't it?

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Wow. Just. Wow.

There's...

There's been a bit of a disaster. Of pretty serious proportions.

A bridge collapsed. They don't know how bad it is yet. Bumper to bumper traffic at the time, and the thing just went down. It looks like an earthquake hit. But we don't have earthquakes around here. Cars in the river, semi trailers on fire, school bus full of kids with the front end smashed in.

Pray.