Monday, April 29, 2013

Silhouettes redux

Full Moon Silhouettes from Mark Gee on Vimeo.

Yes, please, I'll have another

Over last winter and recently I have become hooked on John Grisham, one novel at a time.  My  last trip to the Salvation Army netted me five count 'em five of  his, and I am in heaven.   If you must get hooked on a writer, it's nice to know you probably will never run out.  He writes well, no obvious grammatical hangups or annoying first person references that never end.

I tend to wait until all the votes are in on an author (and their  books have been turned into paperbacks and then are in the bin at the grocerystore),  and then carefully approach one from the side and a bit to the left.   Outta range, so to speak. 

28 books.  oh snoopy dance of joy.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

I Think We Made It (probably)


This
                                                                

and this


and these


                                         (6WS)

Friday, April 26, 2013

Thursday, April 25, 2013

I hate this part


She has to go back.  I thought about this all night and this morning and realized that an alpha cat of this magnitude will never be anything less.  Cuffy was that way,  and we spent three years with the house divided in half.  We did it because he was such a special critter and I felt he deserved a place here for as long as he had to llive.   With Chloe,  she's young, affectionate,  extremely accepting of any human in her path.  She needs a place with no other cats.    The greenhouse, frankly, might suit her perfectly, she could become the
Greenhouse Cat. 
Ill still take her in for her shots this morning and make sure she's healthy (my gift to the cat)  but she has to go back. 

Dammit

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Chlooooo-eeeee

Her name (now) is Chloe.  I went shopping today and along with groceries I brought home two beauty bushes and  two scabiosa, (plants, not diseases), and a stray cat from the greenhouse.  She is a longhair, extremely friendly with humans,  she marches around as if she owned the joint, and has terrorized the other three cats into hiding upstairs. She even tried to beat up my 11 pound alpha female, Isabel.  Chloe could not weigh more than five pounds, but she sent that poor cat flying.

Im taking her to the vet tomorrow to see what he says about her health, have her shots,  and if she hasn't improved in a few days (with some serious effort on our part as well) then it's back to the greenhouse she goes.  Isabel and Toby can deal with her, but albert is old, and fragile,  if not frail.  And very puzzled.

Sigh.  It's never easy.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

It Tastes Better Than It Sounds (6 Word Saturday)

(alternate title :  Now You Know Why I Diet)


peanut butter, onion, and ketchup sandwich (husband)
buttered oreos (for the bad days) ( mine)
Raisin Bran/ chopped apple/ brickle bits (mine)
french toast using Fig Newtons instead (hi, Ron.)
Onion rings and vanilla ice cream (with, not combined) (mine)
peanut butter and Ritz cracker sandwiches (mine)

(feel free to post your own favorites,  please)

Friday, April 19, 2013

Poem



The Muse Named George


He says, "Look, you're having trouble here.
Let me help you work this out."
"No, no," I murmur, chewing the end of my pen,
"I'm fine. Just let me be."

"Well, you KNOW you'll need me eventually.
Why not sooner than later?"
Defeated by his logic, I sigh, put down the pen, and leave.
There are sounds from the other room
a bit like Wrapping Day at Christmas:
paper rustling, little tinkly sounds.

I go outside to mow, to pull some weeds.
Later, have a nap. He wakes me less than gently,
smiling. 'I think you'll like what we've done'
he purrs, smug and cool about it all. "come see."
And sure enough, flowing out of my pen
are words that work, that fit together almost perfectly,
in one steady arc of light that reminds me
of one of those marble fountain statues
of a little boy peeing joyously into the water.

"It's done, now," he says, "except for clean up.
I'll leave that up to you, that's where you really shine,
you know.” And as I settle in, revisions already
spinning out on the paper, he pauses at the door and says,
"Call me if you need me. You always do."

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Dove YouTube Commercial

http://mashable.com/2013/04/15/dove-ad-beauty-sketches/#

it makes you rethink how you percieve yourself and how people around you are often far more accepting of the way you look than you are.

it's worth the three minutes. 

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Perception vs. Reality

I have a cat that until he came here had always been housebound:  three years and he had never touched grass, or seen snow, or felt the wind rippling his fur.  He had never played Chase The Leaf, or Drink Muddy Water,. or Climb The Tree and Pretend to Get Stuck. His voice box, I am pretty sure, had been removed, since the only sound he can make is a tiny rusty "acckkkk acckkkkk".   In two years he has never voluntarily allowed us to touch him.  If you do pat him, he curls into a ball and waits for it to be over.  When he goes out, he is frightened of wind, refuses to touch snow, and despises rain and cold.

In reading around the blogs and on the net, I see something most disturbing;  women/parents  who treat their own children in just this way.  I can understand being fearful, I can understand holding your breath while your kid goes to the neighbor's, alone, for the first time.  He's scared too.  But it does seem that we have somehow become a nation of frightened people and we're teaching our kids to be the same way.   Play dates, constant supervision, cotton wool carefully placed where they might fall, emotionally or otherwise. 

I blame, partly, the media and the instant-on culture that gets its news in a stream, all day.  We hear about rapes in California, and women in Ohio lock their doors.  We see almost first hand car bombings, police stakeouts,  robberies stopped in progress.  The immediacy is numbing.  Children are abducted or abused or killed and we now hear about all of them, continually.  So we pull the drapes and keep our own kids close.

What seems to have been lost is a sense of proportion, a sense of what is appropriate in our own lives.  It also seems we are now unable to sort out what is truly dangerous and what we perceive to be dangerous.

To teach a  child caution is one thing.  To teach them to fear is to hamstring them for life, unable to function in a difficult world,  and stunned when they finally realize what's out there and how ill-pepared they are for any of it. 

Essay from the New Yorker

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2013/04/when-words-that-shouldnt-last-last.html?mobify=0

Saturday, April 13, 2013

This Is What I'm Doing Now (6WS)


somewhere, sometimes,  never

somewhere the rain is falling straight down
the way it always does
dogs still bark at the wind after dark
the earth still moves in various ways
for various reasons
the wind in the pines reminds me
of the ocean on dark still nights
traveling relentlessly
up the beach           you told me once
that often in your sleep
you dreamt of that sound
only you were at the ocean
and could hear pines sighing
in the wind as the tide
hissed over the sand      the rain
still falls straight down
perhaps on you
sometimes on me
but no longer at the same time
or for the same reasons






Thursday, April 11, 2013

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

The first wine is the sweetest




There's nothing like that first sip,  all the piquant flavors still mixed and floating on the surface:  savored slowly,  inhaling the bouquet.  swurpswurpswurpswurp...


Damn but that was worth the wait

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers --Emily Dickinson


Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul-
And sings the tune without the words-
And never stops at all-

And sweetest in the gale is heard-
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest sea-
Yet  never-in extremity-
It asked a crumb of me.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

About anonymous posts

Lately I have been receiving several 'anonymous' posts, all but one of which contains a link back to either a gaming site, an adult (hur hur hur) dating service, or something other.  Those are not accepted links, all of them being commercial and of doubtful content.  If anyone wishes to post an 'anonymous" comment  which does not require registration or signing in,  please leave a name in the post so that I know you're real.  Even something as simple as "Mary" or "Jeremy" and a brief comment  as to where you found this. 

That may seem like overthinking, but the last thing I want is to find myself overrun with gaming sites, dating services, and all the possible problems those things bring with them as baggage.

Monday, April 8, 2013

Margaret and Helen

Just found this, it's hysterical, well worth the trip to read.  >>>>>>>over there too

http://margaretandhelen.com/2012/annual-report/

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Curse the Cursive


Until recently I had no idea that cursive handwriting had disappeared from the landscape.  As I understand it, 44 states have mandated that it need not be taught at all,  and in many states even printing is barely taught as well.  Yes, there are studies that show kids with skills in cursive writing remember better,  they have better motor skills.  They are, as one woman put it, more graceful.  
When I have to remember something my first instinct is to write it down.  I may lose the paper, but I remember what's on it.  I no longer use cursive except for documents or letters,  but it exists in my head.  If I need to memorize anything my first step is to write it out, whether it's a poem or a shopping list.

The fast forward to all of this is a bit other-worldly, and has not really been addressed: any of these children who have no working relationship of cursive writing will also be unable to read it.  That simple.  May not sound like much, but how will they be able to get a job in, say, the field of history?  or as a librarian?  Not all documents are digitized into print mode.  And any older documents that need to be studied are lost to them.
How do you read old letters, old documents, wills, deeds,  legal decisions from the not so distant past?   To further extrapolate, since I am in an extrapolatory mode:  if these documents are unreadable except by a  few "old folks", who will read these when those old folks are no longer there--who will even know how to translate them into 'readable' format?

http://bangordailynews.com/2013/04/07/education/cursive-handwriting-disappearing-from-public-schools/?ref=latest

Saturday, April 6, 2013

"Fresh" "Meat" is now on "Sale"


If there never was any doubt in your mind about the reality and the freshness of what is being offered,  this should firmly remove the absence of doubt


6WS (Show My Face "link" in sidebar)