3603 We get what we ask for

Saturday, August 25, 2012

We teach people how to treat us.

-- Me --

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This is one time that the post content is directly related to the (not-so-random-this-time) green quote.  We do teach others how to treat us.  Sometimes it's very subtle.

The last few months with Jay, he was blind, and the left side of the world had disappeared because of the damage to the right side of his brain, so when his many friends and coworkers came to visit, I told them to sit on the right side of the bed, and to put their hand firmly on his right forearm so he could locate them in space.

Almost without exception, guest after guest widened their eyes, and said, "Touch him?  You don't touch Jay.  Are you sure it's ok?"

In an office where it was normal to put your hand on someone's shoulder when leaning over to look at something on their terminal screen, to shake hands when you come to an agreement, to high-five when celebrating, or to pat an upper arm when passing, no one, ever, touched Jay.  He and I were best of friends for seven years, the last two of which he worked every afternoon in my office, hiding out from people looking for advice so he could get his own work done.  Eventually I transferred out of that office to the litigation lab, without, in all those years, ever having so much as touched his back when I passed behind his chair. 

Yes, you didn't touch Jay.

No one was able to say how they knew that.  It's not like he flinched from contact, or stiffened, or anything like that.  He was charming and relaxed, the master of fast puns and wordplay.  But somehow people just knew.  Somehow they sensed, "you don't touch Jay".  Even I, who knew him so well, knew that, but even now I can't tell you why.


At 6'3", 220 lbs, with 24" wide shoulders and a big black beard, he could be intimidating, but he wasn't.  He came across as a bunny rabbit.  A large bunny, but a bunny.

It turns out that he really WAS extremely sensitive to touch.  After we finally got together, I discovered that you could touch him firmly, tightly, but not lightly.  He didn't physically react to a light touch, didn't flinch or frown, but he was extremely conscious of it, like his mind stopped in its tracks and concentrated on that spot.  I discovered that he couldn't wear certain fabrics next to his skin.  Sweaters drove him crazy, even over a shirt.  Sweatshirts were torture.  I got him silky pajama bottoms to wear inside his suit pants, and he was pathetically grateful. 

In his last year we found out why.  During some brain function testing, he was diagnosed as high-functioning autistic, probably Asperger's Syndrome.  Autism often involves extreme sensitivity to touch.

No one had ever before mentioned autism to him (at that time Asperger's was not well known), but it explained so much about him.  Not going to get into that now, that's not the topic.

Back to the topic - everyone knew not to touch Jay --- but how did they know?  No one could say.  But somehow, in some extremely subtle but subconscious way, he taught people not to touch.

We teach people how to treat us.

If you are ignored all the time, somehow you are signalling to people that you don't want to be part of the group.

If you are taken advantage of all the time, somehow you are telling people that you don't mind being the giver.

If you aren't in on the office gossip, somehow you've given the impression that you don't like gossips.

If people never listen to you, somehow you telegraph that you think you have nothing important to say.

On and on.  Pick something.  

Somehow you are teaching people how to relate to you.  What you have taught them may or may not be true of you (but I'll bet it is true, even if you don't want to admit it).  It's likely that, as with Jay, they couldn't tell you what specific signals they are picking up, they just know how to react.  It's likely that no amount of self examination will uncover what you are doing to get that reaction.

Maybe, if you don't like the way you are treated, you just have to internally change the way you expect to be treated, and your external signals will change, too.

(I still don't know how I knew not to touch Jay during those first many years as coworkers.)
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3602 Who votes Republican? And why?

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Too many people don’t know the difference between “possible” and “probable”.

--  Me  --

(...especially where gossip is concerned....)

----------------------------------------------------------------

I was thinking about Rocky's comment on my previous post (go read it, I'll wait).  I know quite a few people who vote Republican all the time, and most of them are normally reasonable and intelligent people. If they are friends, it's understood that we never never ever talk politics.  Or religion.

Piper took a long time to learn that.  He kept trying to "educate" me.  He couldn't understand how I could be so invested in stock and real estate, and not vote my self-interest.  He finally gave up, but he will still rail in front of me at people who make stupid financial decisions, who don't work, who use "the system", and he fumes at the "socialist" government that forces him to pay for those people's mistakes.  There's a large "I made it, why can't they" component to his rants.

So, anyway, I was thinking about my politically conservative/Republican friends.  How would I define them, what are their characteristics? 

They seem to fall into two very different groups.

One group is Rocky's rich white men, some rich white women, and women who live off the rich white men.  This group is not as large as the second group, but  they have the money to contribute to candidates, and money counts heavily. Money wins elections.  These people see government as a good investment that can help them acquire more money.

The second group is much larger.  These are people who make just a little bit too much to qualify for social programs and financial aid.  They work hard.  They aspire to the good life they see on TV.  They are less well educated, tend to distrust "book-smarts", and are the target audience for Madison Avenue advertisers.  They fall for buzz words and sound bites.  They tend to be patriotic and love their cars and their guns.   This is a very large group.  They vote.  Votes win elections.  They fiercely resent that the government is taking money from them and giving it to people they see as less deserving. 

Think about the conservative political rhetoric.  It's tailored to appeal to the second group.  But the first group knows the real agenda (nudge nudge wink wink).

I said that the second group falls for buzz words.  Here's an example.  Say "socialism" to a member of that group and you get an immediate spittingly negative reaction.  Now ask that person what socialism is.  Dollars to donuts you won't get an answer beyond that it's bad.  They seem to equate it to the perverted form of communism practiced in Russia.  (I wonder if they are aware that the Israeli kibbutz is pure communism?)  If you want to get punched out, point out to them that their local fire department and police force are socialistic.  And how about bridges and the highway system?  Socialism.  Streetlights?  State colleges?  Utility rate regulation?  Socialism.  Ask them if they really want every road to be a toll road, including the street they live on.

Pure unadulterated capitalism puts profit above everything else.  The first group loves capitalism. 

Socialism puts profit secondary to the social good.  Pure unadulterated socialism discourages innovation.  

The ideal is a mix of the two - capitalism dominating for non-necessities, socialism dominating for necessities.  The first group, the group with all the money and ability to control "the message", hates being restricted in their quest for profit, so they want to ensure that the second group, with all those votes, rejects socialism.

It seems to me that the only argument should be in defining what is a necessity and what is not.

Shall we discuss health care?
.

3601 Legitimate?

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Before you fall for the newest thing to come along, ask yourself,
“Is it better than the old?”

--  Me --

---------------------------------------------------------------

Ok.  We all know about Rep. Akin's stupid theory that women don't get pregnant from "legitimate" rape.  And the Republican Party has castigated and repudiated him.  He has apologized for saying it.

HOWEVER!  Note that he's in trouble not for believing it, and not for operating on it, but for having been so stupid as to have actually said it out loud, in public, where those pesky female-type people could hear him.

In fact, his attitude (if not his biological theory) is right in line with the Conservative/Republican party.  Check out their platform.  No exception for rape or incest.  After all, I guess, most rape is consensual, and any incest after the first incident is consensual, right?  I mean, if you didn't want to be raped, you wouldn't be out without a blood relative escort, you wouldn't wear such revealing clothes, you wouldn't be on birth control unless you were expecting sex all the time, you wouldn't ever be alone with a man, right?  (Oops - sorry.  That's Taliban thinking.)  And incest, well, of course you would report it to someone the first time it happened, and we all know no one gets pregnant the first time they have sex, right?  So if you got pregnant and hadn't reported it, you enjoyed it, and therefore it wasn't rape, right?

Sigh.  It's really true.  There are Neanderthals who do think like that.  They are legion.  And they vote.  They seldom come out and say it (it's not politically correct, and that's what Akin forgot) but it influences their thinking - or lack thereof.

Akin's statement took me back to a time, in my young adulthood, when the first question asked of a raped woman was, "Did you enjoy it?"  To a time when, in Missouri and many other states, a woman claiming rape had to have TWO MALE witnesses to bring charges.  (Two!  Male!  A woman's testimony cannot be believed, you know.)  To a time when law enforcement would not believe a woman was raped unless there was a weapon involved, or the woman was beaten severely, since, "A woman can run faster with her skirt up than a man can with his pants down."  To a time when "She asked for it" was the usual verdict.  Remember then?

Akin is still there.  That's where the "legitimate" came from.  (I wonder if his idea of "legitimate" rape is limited to miscegenation.)

Yeah, there are still women who will scream "rape" falsely, just to make trouble for some guy.  They are traitors to their sex.  Because they exist, many people take rape claims with very large grains of salt, and that's why people still hang on to the theories above.  That's where "legitimate" comes from.

It's easy to get the impression that Conservatives, and especially those infesting the Republican party, hate women.
.

3600 Poor little things X 2

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Do not fear to be eccentric in opinion, for every opinion now accepted
was once eccentric.

--  Bertrand Russell  --

---------------------------------------------------

Today's "Sunday Morning" wasn't all people selling something and seeking attention. It was actually pretty good.   Think they heard me?

-------------------------------

The following video turned up by chance.  I figured it was one of those waste-of-time isn't-my-pet-wonderful things.  I watched the first few seconds and couldn't stop.  That poor hamster.  He just can't get the idea of the wheel.  It's hilarious.  I rarely laugh out loud at videos, but I did at this one, at about 1:40.  (Don't skip ahead to 1:40 - you kind of need the buildup.)

Poor little guy.  I know people like that.  I think it's at a pet shop, and you just want to pick him up and hug him and tell him "It's ok, I'll take you home and love you anyway even if you are stupid. I'll protect you from the world."  (Hmmmm.  Maybe he's not so stupid after all.  Maybe that's his PLAN!)

[http://youtu.be/1S1VhAF5lao]

--------------------------------

Old folks' memories.
I've been idly looking for moth balls to drop down the chipmunk holes to get them to move out before filling the holes.  They aren't easy to find.  Looking for them reminded me of something from my childhood.

In my youth, off-season clothes were always stored away in mothballs.  Almost every late spring, someone would set up a lawn sprinkler or suggest a trip to the lake, and every late spring, as if we couldn't remember the year before, we'd pester Mom to get our bathing suits out of storage.

How many folks remember putting a bathing suit on straight out of the moth balls?  Remember what happened?
 .

3599 Killing frenzy starting, in 3, 2, 1...

Saturday, August 18, 2012

You can tell you've made God into your own image
when He hates the same people you do.

------------------------------------------

I'm going slightly crazy.  Somebody somewhere on the street behind is playing music (I think that's what it's supposed to be) and my kitchen has been filled with boompah boompah boom boom thump boompah boom  pause boompah thump thump, repeat, for over three hours now.  I can hear nothing but bass.  It's maddening.  I'm ready to kill someone.

Turning on my own noise doesn't help.  The boompah thump boom reverberates in my chest no matter what else I'm hearing, like when the bass drum passes you on the street during a parade.
.

3598 Tarry tarry night...

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

"Diplomacy is the art of saying 'Nice doggie' until you can find a rock."

--  Will Rogers  --

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Daughter and Hercules got their driveway sealed the other day.  (I got mine done, too.)  One hour until it dried enough to walk on, three hours until the cars could sit on it.  Not hot tar - it went on cold.  I frankly don't know what it was.

Nobody told the Nugget about not walking on it.  She came running across the lawn, and got five barefoot steps onto the fresh driveway before her Mommy caught her.  

Her feet were solid black.  I suggested they just let it dry, they could save on shoes....

It washed off with soap and water and a little sugar for scrubbing.
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3597 Steampunk laptop

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Dean Koontz, in The Face, paraphrased:

"When no one ever listens to you, really listens, you can begin to lose the ability

to tell whether or not you are really making sense when you talk."

-----------------------------------------------------

Paul Klusman, of the "Engineer's Guide to Cats" YouTube videos, built a Steampunk laptop as a prop in one of his videos. It was a hit. (Not necessarily the video - the laptop.) So he made a video on how he made the steampunk laptop.

[http://youtu.be/8GvfxLBozXA]

In case you missed the original guide to cats back when it went viral, here it is:

[http://youtu.be/mHXBL6bzAR4]

T.J. is a friend and coworker.  (No, they are not gay, and they don't live together.)  They both are strong advocates for adopting adult shelter cats.  I may have to make Paul a HOTW one of these days.

---------------------------------

A Day in the Life of Joe Republican

by John Gray of Cincinnati, Ohio

Joe gets up at 6 a.m. and fills his coffeepot with water to prepare his morning coffee. The water is clean and good because some tree-hugging liberal fought for minimum water-quality standards.

With his first swallow of water, he takes his daily medication. His medications are safe to take because some stupid commie liberal fought to ensure their safety and that they work as advertised.  All but $10 of his medications are paid for by his employer's medical plan because some liberal union workers fought their employers for paid medical insurance - now Joe gets it too.

He prepares his morning breakfast, bacon and eggs. Joe's bacon is safe to eat because some girly-man liberal fought for laws to regulate the meat packing industry.

In the morning shower, Joe reaches for his shampoo. His bottle is properly labeled with each ingredient and its amount in the total contents because some crybaby liberal fought for his right to know what he was putting on his body and how much it contained.

Joe dresses, walks outside and takes a deep breath. The air he breathes is clean because some environmentalist wacko liberal fought for the laws to stop industries from polluting our air.

He walks on the government-provided sidewalk to subway station for his government-subsidized ride to work. It saves him considerable money in parking and transportation fees because some fancy-pants liberal fought for affordable public transportation, which gives everyone the opportunity to be a contributor.

Joe begins his work day. He has a good job with excellent pay, medical benefits, retirement, paid holidays and vacation because some lazy liberal union members fought and died for these working standards. Joe's employer pays these standards because Joe's employer doesn't want his employees to call the union. If Joe is hurt on the job or becomes unemployed, he'll get a worker compensation or unemployment check because some stupid liberal didn't think he should lose his home because of his temporary misfortune.

It is noontime and Joe needs to make a bank deposit so he can pay some bills. Joe's deposit is federally insured by the FSLIC because some godless liberal wanted to protect Joe's money from unscrupulous bankers who ruined the banking system before the Great Depression.  Joe has to pay his Fannie Mae-underwritten mortgage and his below-market federal student loan because some elitist liberal decided that Joe and the government would be better off if he was educated and earned more money over his lifetime. Joe also forgets that in addition to his federally subsidized student loans, he attended a state funded university.

Joe is home from work. He plans to visit his father this evening at his farm home in the country. He gets in his car for the drive. His car is among the safest in the world because some America-hating liberal fought for car safety standards to go along with the tax-payer funded roads.

He arrives at his boyhood home. His was the third generation to live in the house financed by Farmers' Home Administration because bankers didn't want to make rural loans.  The house didn't have electricity until some big-government liberal stuck his nose where it didn't belong and demanded rural electrification.

He is happy to see his father, who is now retired. His father lives on Social Security and a union pension because some wine-drinking, cheese-eating liberal made sure he could take care of himself so Joe wouldn't have to.

Joe gets back in his car for the ride home, and turns on a radio talk show. The radio host keeps saying that liberals are bad and conservatives are good. He doesn't mention that the beloved Republicans have fought against every protection and benefit Joe enjoys throughout his day. Joe agrees: "We don't need those big-government liberals ruining our lives! After all, I'm a self-made man who believes everyone should take care of themselves, just like I have."

--------------------------------

Sure, Mr. Beck. Liberals are a cancer on the nation. Look at all that damage they've done.

Actually, a small correction.  Some of those laws protecting Joe were passed during Republican majorities, but that was in the first decades of the twentieth century, when Republicans were actually very liberal.  Mr. Gray should have railed against "conservatives", not "Republicans". 
.

3596 Procrastination analysis

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Salada Tea tag line: The price is what you pay, the value is what you receive.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The country house.  Why am I not out of there yet?  It will be two years in October.

Reasons include:

• The first winter, 2010-2011, was very bad.  Neighbors told me that we'd got more snow here at the city house than they'd seen in decades.  The country house also got a lot of snow, trees down, power outages.  Fred, the van, is no good in snow, and with a long uphill driveway there, I just didn't hazard trips.
• In the spring my kidney attacked me.  Through the entire 2011 summer I had that stupid useless stent (they'd put it in the wrong place) that tore up my bladder if I so much as lifted more than a coffee cup, or walked, or drove, and I lost a lot of blood.  I had a lot of pain and no energy.
• The loss of time during the winter, spring, and summer of the first year hurt me badly financially.  I had sold a lot of stock to buy the new house which reduced my income significantly.  The idea was to sell the old house to the Hairless Hunk's in-laws and then reinvest the proceeds, regaining income.  Instead, that house is now costing me almost $1,500 per month in taxes and utilities, on a reduced income, so that now it becomes difficult to hire pros for moving the big stuff and for repairs without dipping into investments, reducing my income even more.
• I made some headway last fall.  Then there came a cloud.  I'm here because Daughter and Hercules live here.   The company Hercules works for made some demands on him in the fall that, with a new baby, he didn't want to fulfill.  But that company was looking iffy anyway.  They had been bought out, and the new owners were consolidating offices.  It started looking like one way or another they might have to move.  There's no way I would stay here if they moved.  I'd go back to the old house and sell this one.  So ... I stopped moving things down here.  Just in case.
• In the late spring of this year, Hercules quit the old company and took another much more secure and satisfying job.  But I still haven't been motivated to get my tail in gear.  Money is still tight, but that isn't going to get better by waiting.  So, why not?

Suspicions, what I think might be going on in my head:

• I really like the old house.  (I merely tolerate this house.) Here's a wonderful description of the three village(s) I lived near: http://www.chronogram.com/issue/2012/8/Community+Pages/Rhinebeck-Red-Hook-and-Tivol. Why would anyone want to leave that?  I had 1.35 acres surrounded by woods, on the top of a ridge.  From the back deck I could see miles of farmland and mountains.  It's beautiful countryside, and I'm so afraid if I sell it I'll never go back.  I don't want to lose it.
• Hordes of people are convinced that the end of the world (by whatever means, from monster meteor to terrorism, to ... you name it) is due this December, or the religious folks are expecting the Rapture and/or the Second Coming, also December, anyway, whatever, I am also worried.  Not about the same thing as the end-of-life-as-we-know-it people, though.  I worry that some nutty group will decide, if the world doesn't end on schedule, that they have been anointed to make it happen.  And here I sit in hailing distance of NYC. If the shit hits the fan (or the uranium hits the breeze) this is not a good place to be.  The wrong people have guns here.
• If any of the above means we can't stay here, the country house is ideal.  It has plenty of room for a real garden.  There's a well that can be tapped with a hand pump. The woods are full of rabbits and turkeys.  The right people have guns.  There's a fireplace with plenty of firewood available.  It's up a steep dead-end road so it's less attractive to marauders.  Plenty of room for Daughter, Hercules, and the Nugget.

I think the above is a large part of why I'm dragging my feet.  I just don't want to give up that house.

I never ever ever wanted to be a landlord.  I cringe at the thought of someone messing up something that is mine.  But it may be that keeping the country house and renting it out, perhaps even to the Hunk's in-laws, is the only way to go.  It gives me back the income I need, keeps the house in case I ever want or need it, and gives me a good excuse to revisit the area.  Short of burning it down, or turning it into a meth lab, there's little that renters can do that can't be repaired.

Maybe I can be convinced to do that.  Or forced to.  I've got to get going, some direction.  THIS isn't working.
.

3595 Hoarding

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

“Politics is a pendulum whose swings between anarchy and tyranny

are fueled by perpetually rejuvenated illusions.”

--  Albert Einstein --

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I just read an article on research in Hoarding Disorder.  I had watched a few episodes of the cable show, and I felt so bad for most of the hoarders.  I'd seen that they were very upset about things being thrown out, and I was myself a little upset because the people working at throwing things out didn't seem to understand the depth of the problem.  It's not just laziness, but I had no other explanation or suggestion except that logic had nothing to do with it, so using logic was not an answer.

I learned long ago that where emotional reactions or brain dysfunction is concerned, logic doesn't exist.

The article is "Inside the Hoarder’s Brain: A Unique Problem with Decision-Making", full article here.  An excerpt:

...the study found that people with hoarding disorder took much longer to make decisions about discarding their possessions and felt more sadness and anxiety about these choices than did the other participants. “One of the characteristics of hoarding is that people feel this sense of discomfort if they feel like they may be giving away something that they could use in future,” says Hollander, explaining that patients often become greatly distressed or even angry if they are pushed to give up apparently useless or excess possessions.
...
So, it’s not that hoarders are slobs or obsessive collectors. Rather, it’s that they have problems making the kinds of decisions about their stuff that others would consider reasonable.

Jay was absolutely a hoarder.  Kitchen garbage, things that would rot or attract bugs, went out, but nothing else that entered the house ever left.  I had to toss junk mail and empty cereal boxes when he wasn't looking.  If he bought a tube of super glue for some project, and it hardened in the tube after opening (as they all do), he would insist on keeping the tube anyway.  "It worked really well, so I want to keep the tube so I can buy the same stuff if I ever need something like that again."

That "something they could use in the future" really hit home.  I heard that over and over from Jay. Also, he had been diagnosed as an Aspie just before his final surgery, and Asperger's is related to autism (mentioned in the article).  Jay had difficulty with ALL decisions.

Also the "sadness and anxiety" part.  Jay actually hyperventilated when I threw out a huge box-load of UNOPENED  junk mail he had moved with him from Texas seven years before.  He got very upset and restless, and started hiding things in the den.

It all fits so well.

Me, I've got a lot of junk, way too much junk, but it doesn't qualify as hoarding.  It's the detritus of pity-me shopping sprees, especially in the four or five years after Jay died, trying to fill my empty life.  I've got to get rid of much of it.  It's not that I "think" it's valuable - it IS valuable, I know because I paid a small fortune for it.  It's not that I can't bear to get rid of it, it's that I want to get out of it close to what I put into it.  That's work, a lot of work, and I don't have time for it right now.  So, I'm not a hoarder - I am absolutely and frankly a lazy procrastinator.
.

(P.S. - the Asperger's link might explain why so many Mensan's homes are so terribly cluttered.)
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3594 Things that made me sad today

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Have no respect for the authority of others,

for there are always contrary authorities to be found.

--  Bertrand Russell  --

-----------------------------------------------------------------

So.  This morning I was watching "Sunday Morning", and they were doing a piece on a sculptor, and said that one of his very large pieces filled "the enormity of the Grande Palais" in Paris.

Sigh.  The reporter obviously does not know what "enormity" means.  The Parisians should be very insulted.

-----------------------------

I no longer watch late night or daytime talk shows.  It seems like all the guests have something to sell, or need exposure, and that's the only reason they're there, not because they have anything interesting to say. 

I have faithfully watched "Sunday Morning" since the early Charles Kuralt days.  The show used to be about "down home" kind of stories.  Ordinary people who did interesting or marvelous things, odd places and things off the beaten path, stuff like that.  There's an old joke, "My home town is so small Charles Kuralt has been here twice." 

Now it seems to be all about - surprise! - people who have something to sell or people who need exposure.  It has gradually become a 90-minute celebrity ad. It's very subtle, but watch next week and you'll see what I mean.

I may stop watching "Sunday Morning".  (I suspect I already have.  I used to settle in front of the TV with my tea or coffee.  Now I turn the TV on, but I'm not watching.  Listening, at most.  After the enormity of today's grammar gaffe, I don't even want to listen any more.)

When "People" magazine started, it was also about ordinary people in ordinary lives, who did or were interesting in some way.  Then it quickly changed.  It's now a celebrity advertising rag.

Why am I thinking about the worship of Mammon, and of bread and circuses?

--------------------------------

What's with the Veronica Lake hair on young women?  You know, where they part it far over on the left side, so the right side falls in their faces, and they are constantly brushing it out of their eyes?  I'm seeing it everywhere.  Man, that's almost as stupid as those stilt-like shoes.

Women who worked so hard in the '70s to earn respect look on with despair. 

Why would any woman want to look like she can't even control her own hair (toss, toss, flick, toss - sexy? Only if you don't mind looking like a ditz.  I guess it's ok if you're a sexy ditz?  Do you really want a man who prefers sexy over brains?)?  Ok, the hair thing isn't a big thing itself, but it's indicative of an attitude.

What woman purposely wants to make her feet look and sound like hooves, and hobble herself?  Is binding feet next?

Why do young women want to look like they are incapable of making sound sensible decisions?  

It's a huge topic, the backslide.  I'm too sad about it to get into it.  They don't know what it used to be like, and they seem to be headed right back.  On purpose.
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3593 The Physician, the novel

Sunday, August 12, 2012

“Uncertainty is an uncomfortable position. But certainty is an absurd one.”

--  Voltaire  --

--------------------------------------------------

The book has been absorbing.  I highly recommend it.   It has sent me to the internet many times for history, geography, Persian words, names of plants, pharmacopeia, anatomy, social customs, and more.  Man, life was hard in the eleventh century.  Author Noah Gordon's research was admirable.

There were a few things that left me wondering.  In the first few pages Gordon  describes a healthy child who we are told is 18 months old, but seems from his description to be more like 6 months old at most.  I think this may have been an error.  I suspect that a few pages later he decided that the mother of the child should die in childbirth, so he changed the infant's age from 6 months to 18 to fit the timing, without changing the description.

At another point Gordon seems to realize that there's a sticky problem, so he solves it with a convenient horse bite.  I found it very difficult to accept that bite.  I couldn't imagine how it could have happened, and when Rob mentioned it to a friend, I couldn't imagine the friend not asking how.  Like, the child would have to have been lying naked in a manger or something.  (Huh?  Perhaps in this case appropriate.)  Also, it's impossible that no one had noticed the suspicious "scar" prior to that point in the story, and, having noticed, impossible that they would not have asked about it.

Later in the book there is a footrace in Persia.  The race is so long and in such heat that few runners finish, so the winner of the handsome prize is he who is last moving.  The Shah has also offered a further huge prize to whomever can continue to run a bit further after finishing the first race to a total of 126 Roman miles, completed within 12 hours.  One of the characters accepts the Shah's challenge and wins the prize.

I wondered how far 126 Roman miles was in English miles.  I hit the internet again.  According to several sources, a Roman mile was equivalent to approximately 1,620 modern yards.  Multiply, divide, and 126 Roman miles is 116 modern miles.  Wow.  But it gets more unbelievable.  To run 116 miles in 12 hours (let alone less) requires an average speed of 9.7 mph.  That's an average of  a hair over 6 minutes per mile, sustained for 12 hours!  In intense heat.

Sorry.  I don't buy it.

The author's notes at the end, dated May 3, 2012, describe his research and mention that there's a movie in the works.

I don't know whether this is good or bad.  A movie?  Impossible!  A PBS mini-series, maybe.  But if the movie is less than 6 hours long (I'd like to say 10), it just won't do the book justice.  I am disgusted that people will watch a 90-minute Hollywood synopsis, and then think they know the book.

Snarl.
.

3592 I am strong!

Thursday, August 9, 2012

One quiet word to a wise man is better than a year of pleading with a fool.

------------------------------------------------

I have grown stronger in my advanced age!  Today I easily carried $100 worth of groceries in four bags looped over my left arm!  One arm!

I can remember when I struggled to carry $20 worth in two arms.
.

3591 A sad truth.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

"[I]f I want to have a thought of mine preserved for eternity, I put it on my blog;

if I don’t care if I ever see it again, I put it on Twitter."
-- John Scalzi -- 

---------------------------------------------------------

I have never watched "Real Housewives of New Jersey".  I don't want to, either.  This morning, three of the women from the show were on "The View".

My new solidly lower middle class NJ neighborhood is full of housewives.  I desperately want to say that, like Snooki and the rest of the group on "Jersey Shore", there's nobody like that in my neighborhood.  Nobody who looks like, talks like, dresses like, acts like that. 

I am distressed to admit that, yeah, there are several of them.

Sigh.
.

3590 A physician in the 11th century

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Mart Gross, biologist, on what behaviors get noted or discounted:

"Theory determines what you see."

------------------------------------------------

If cheerleading is a sport, and romping on a mat waving ribbons on a stick is a sport, how is ballet not a sport?  I don't understand.

-------------------------------

I am now reading The Physician, by Noah Gordon, on the Kindle.  His novel Shaman,  based in the American west, in the 19th century, won the first James Fenimore Cooper Prize for Best Historical Fiction in 1993.  The Physician is also full of historical detail.  I have copied one of the reader reviews, as a description: 

This engrossing book traces the life of 11th century Englishman, Robert Cole. Cole begins as a normal child, is quickly orphaned, and is then apprenticed to a barber-surgeon. As he travels throughout England with his master, the reader is introduced to all aspects of English peasant life. Family life, morality, religion, sexuality, medicine, xenophobia and history are all presented in an interesting, subtle, and easily read writing style. When Cole grows up and decides to be a physician, he comes in contact with Jewish doctors who explain to him that the best universities are in Moslem-ruled Persia, where no Christian may go. Determined to learn, Cole overcomes this obstacle by pretending to be a Jew. As he travels and studies in Persia, the same questions of lifestyle are addressed, only this time within the Jewish and Moslem communities. This is a great read for anyone who likes adventurous stories about growing up, or who is interested in sociology, religion, medicine, or history.

Hard to tell on the Kindle, but it's apparently a big book, judging by the price for tree-based (new price/lowest used price).  Um, why is the paperback more expensive than the hardcover?

	Kindle Edition $9.99   -- -- Expand Hardcover --   $79.99 $13.53 Expand Paperback --   $107.48 $4.65 Mass Market Paperback --   $88.92 $3.94

Yeouch!  I got it for $1.99 on one of those 24-hour sales.  It's so well written I'm running out of clean dishes and laundry.
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3589 A question of morality

Monday, August 6, 2012

In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate.

--  Isaac Asimov   --

---------------------------------------------------------------------

One of the books I have been reading has a set of topics for discussion at the end, one of which, details aside, asks if all people should be held to the same standards of morality, or should circumstances and a person's life experiences be taken into consideration?

Wow.

That's such a simple question, but not something we tend to think about when we make judgements about people.  We just do it.  If their standards are not ours, we take circumstances and the other person's life into consideration and understand and excuse them, or we don't and we condemn them.

After thinking about it, I realize that my own morality, my standard for myself, has gotten tighter over the years, but I am less likely to hold others to my standard.  I am more likely to be understanding (often), to the point of not even considering the deviations of others to be failings.  In fact, when you take conditions, circumstances, and needs into consideration, I can often find a kind of high morality behind even base acts.

--------------------------------

A friend mentioned to me that his son had been convicted of a felony, and asked if that mattered to me.  I said no, it didn't matter to me what he may have done, what matters is what he is doing now.  And that's really true.  I didn't even ask what the felony was.

I like me.   That's not a terrible thing.  Sometimes I drive people nuts by asking why they do or did something.  They say it doesn't matter, but to me it does.  I need to understand why.  I need to understand where it fits in their life experience.

The greatest frustration is when I don't understand.
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3588 Jasper still thinks it's Sunday.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Consumotherapy - buying something because it makes you feel good.

--------------------------------------------------------

Something I don't understand about the Olympics - I thought all the athletes and teams were supposed to be "amateurs".  Yeah, I know there's government support and sponsorships and so on.  There has to be because they have to practice so much and that takes time and money.  But isn't there a line somewhere?  The US basketball team is all professional players.  I mean multimillionaire players from professional NBA teams.  How can they be considered in any way amateurs?  How are they in the Olympics?  Why don't they just have a World Series of basketball instead?  That's what it is....

--------------------------------

I have two layers of long heavy fringe hanging in the arch between the living room and the kitchen.  It had been on spring tension rods, but eventually the rods started sagging, and when the Nugget goes through sometimes she gets a wee bit tangled and pulls one or both down.  Jasper occasionally attacks them, too.

So I bought some brackets and two lengths of PVC pipe.

The PVC started sagging, so I bought some wood dowel and fed that into the pipes to strengthen them.

They still sagged.  That fringe is heavy!

I decided to buy a small diameter metal pipe, like for plumbing, or gas lines.  That won't sag!

Wow!  Have you priced pipe lately?  It's like $13 or more per FOOT!  Holy cow!   Why?!

I ended up with big fat wooden doweling, like would be used for regular DIY curtain rods.  Not what I wanted, but it seems to be holding up ok so far.

--------------------------------

The township collects garbage twice a week here, Mondays and Thursdays.  It's paid from taxes and there doesn't seem to be any limit on how much you can put out.  I put out one small kitchen bag half full.  They collect recycling twice a month, first and third Wednesdays.  I put out 2 tall kitchen trash cans full every recycle collection. 

My production is just the opposite of what they seem to expect.  I have four times as much recycling as garbage.  Two weeks of trash paper and cardboard will bury me alive.  I think that may be the norm around here, since I see people putting recycle stuff out on garbage days.  When whatever container they're using is full, it goes out.  Most people don't have enough room to store that much recyclable stuff.

I wonder if the township is aware of the relative amounts, and that people who would like to recycle are forced to put recyclables out on garbage day?  I wonder if they care?  The township recycle center is just up the road from me, between me and the grocery store, and they're open every day until 3 pm, so when the paper and cardboard gets overwhelming, I just drop a load off there.  People who have jobs can't do that.

(No, I am not going to volunteer to do neighborhood recycle center runs.)

--------------------------------

I once knew a country bar in the Gettysburg, Pa. area with a hunting theme, that labelled the restrooms "Setters" and "Pointers", along with a picture of the dog breed.  Do you know that there were people (like my friend Jeannie) who couldn't figure out which door was theirs?  Jeannie said she couldn't tell by looking at the picture whether it was a girl dog or a boy dog.

I liked her anyway.
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3587 Buying and selling

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Dean Koontz, The Face: The hero wants to arrest a motivational speaker

on charges of felony cliché and practicing philosophy without an idea.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Jasper gets canned food once a week, on Sunday.  Last weekend I somehow decided Saturday was Sunday, and gave it to him a day early.  Today he is pestering me, underfoot constantly and biting my ankles when I sit down.  I guess he knows it's Saturday because of the different noise patterns outside.

-------------------------------

Last Monday evening I watched Antiques Roadshow.  After that, something came on named Market Warriors.  I didn't watch the first half, but I gather it went something like this:  four people were turned loose in one of those antiques dealers' halls, where there are many stalls with dealers selling stuff.  The four were given assignments to buy things fitting certain criteria, like advertising prior to 1970, "smalls", toys, and so on, and then the items they chose for each criteria would be put up for auction and the winner would be the one who made the most profit.

When I figured out that's what was going on, I about cracked up.  You don't buy things from an antique dealer, then sell it at auction!  NO! WAY! Dealers buy things at auction, and then mark them up by like 100%. 

There's only one way to have any hope of not losing money.

First you research the auction.  Who's attending?  Dealers?  Homeowners?  Collectors? Decorators?  And about how many of each?  You're not making money selling to dealers or collectors at auction, since they know exactly what an item will sell for in a shop (shoppe!) and won't pay more than that.  Homeowners are looking for yard sale prices, things that work, or particular decorator pieces.  Your best bet is a room full of decorators.  Big city professional decorators will buy almost anything at almost any price, since they usually have a decor or two in mind, so if they see something currently in fashion, they'll just wrap words around the item and can charge their customer whatever it cost.  They don't have to worry about it taking up room until they can sell it.  And even then, you'll need at least four or more bidding against each other.

If you find an auction that decorators attend, next you check out some decorating magazines.  What's hot?  Cast iron lawn furniture is always good, beat up chests and cabinets with multiple layers of chipped and worn paint, that sort of thing.   What's big this year? 

If you have to make do with an auction hall full of collectors, dealers, or ordinary civilians, you have little hope of turning a profit on anything you bought from a dealer.  Kitschy is your best bet - stuff with little real value, but it's cute and appealing.

AFTER you find out who will be at the auction, then you select things to sell.  You are still doomed to failure if you buy from a dealer who knows what they've got.  Instead, shop yard sales, and little "junk" shops off on the side roads.

Our four shoppers had no idea what the bidders were likely to be looking for.  I was shocked that there were so very few people attending the auction, although there were some phone-in bids, too.  It went about as I figured it would.  Only a few people bid on each item.  The "contestants" had in many cases bargained the shop owner down from his or her original asking price, which they took pride in, but at auction they got much less.

Duh.  No kidding.

The only thing that sold for more than the guy had paid for it was a wooden rocking horse that wasn't even the antique he'd thought it was, but it was pretty.  Pouf decor item.

--------------------------------

I had an interesting experience this week.  I bought a necklace on Etsy.  The seller seemed to think it was a "vintage" "Bedouin" necklace with "coral, turquoise, and silver".  Well, I knew by looking at the photo that it was not old, or real Bedouin, or silver, and that although there were some coral and turquoise nuggets strung among the beads, most of it was glass - it's a tourist trap piece.  But it would look very nice with one of my caftans, and it was cheap, like $20, with free shipping.  The seller was in the Netherlands.  The necklace arrived packed in bubble wrap in a flattish metal box inside a padded envelope.

I could have thrown the box away.  Daughter certainly would have immediately, without a second thought.  But I got curious as to what it was.  I looked it up on the internet.  It's a Belgian cigar box from the 1950s without a dent, scratch, stain, or spot of rust on it.  Ones like it in much worse condition are listed on collectors' sites at $60-$100.

(Hmmmm.  Obviously the seller of the necklace knows nothing about what she has, good or bad.  Quick!  Buy something else from her!)

I have this guilty feeling, like that I should alert her.  Then again, I want to buy more from her to see what it might arrive in. 
.

3586 Strange brains

August 2, 2012

When you meet with opposition, even if it should be from your husband or your children,

endeavor to overcome it by argument and not by authority,

for a victory dependent upon authority is unreal and illusory.

-- Bertrand Russell --

----------------------------------------------------

The following is a 10-minute video about a guy with Tourette's, Luke, who just wants a girlfriend.  Unfortunately, he's one of the 10% who has the problem with uncontrollable swearing.

[http://youtu.be/qZRgmFvYPrA]

The brain is a mysterious thing.   The Tourette's part of Luke's brain knows exactly which words are forbidden and will get the worst reaction and that's what it generates.  So I can't help wondering - if Luke had been raised in a society of anorexic, diabetic, truck drivers, would he be shouting "Cheesecake!", and "Sugar!" instead of "F--k you!" and "Bitch!"?

It reminds me a bit of Jay, when his brain decided to throw away the left side of the world, to the point where he was blind to the first half of double words.

I knew a guy with Tourette's once.  He didn't have the swearing thing, though.  He just twitched a lot and yipped and barked.  He and his wife were in Mensa.  We all liked him.  He was sweet.  We all strongly disliked his wife.  They'd got married just before they moved to the Poughkeepsie area and became active in the local group.  She was more than a bit of a slut, wandering off all the time with guys, and she'd yell at him, "You're barking again!  Stop it!" like she had no understanding of the syndrome or didn't care about how difficult it was for him to control it.  She eventually wandered off, within the first year, I think.  After she left, since he couldn't drive because of the twitching, one of us would pick him up for the dinners and games nights.

One evening I gave him a ride home after a dinner, and he started talking.  I'd never heard anything like it.  Words poured out of him.  What he was saying made sense in and of itself, but it just poured out so fast and had nothing to do with anything and segued into different topics at warp speed.  In spates between the deluge, he said that when he starts talking uncontrollably it means a seizure is coming on and if it did while he was in the car I shouldn't panic but just let it go, wait it out, and he's sorry if it scares me.  I responded that my late husband had seizures, and they don't bother me a bit.  When we arrived outside his apartment, I offered to sit with him until whatever happened had passed, but he said no, he was used to it and would be ok.

I never saw him again.  I often wondered what happened to him.
.

3585 Reading

Monday, July 30, 2012

Most people can work with any insanity, as long as it is consistent and predictable insanity.

--  Silk  --

-------------------------------------------------------------

In the past few months I have read (not listed in order):

1. The Five People You Meet in Heaven - Mitch Alborn
2. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Other Tales of the Jazz Age - F. Scott Fitzgerald
3. What Your Childhood Memories Say About You ... and What You Can Do About It - Kevin Leman
4. How To Raise Emotionally Healthy Children:  Meeting the Five Critical Needs of Children - Gerald Newmark
5. Madame Bovary - Gustav Flaubert
6. Monday Mornings: A Novel - Sanjay Gupta
7. Sisters - Kathleen Thompson Norris
8. Fairy Tales Every Child Should Know - ?
9. A few other books I started and not only didn't finish, they were so bad I deleted them from the Kindle.

I am now reading God is an Englishman, R. Delderfield.

All were either free or $.99 to $1.99 for the Kindle.

I have accepted that as a warning for the future.  Sometimes a deal too good to pass up should be passed up.

An advantage of paper books is that you can leaf through and scan here and there to get some idea as to whether it's worth reading.  Can't really do that with an electronic book.  Well, you can, but it's a pain and you have to commit to acquiring it first.

#1 was good as a story of a man and his life.  I don't understand what all the fuss was about when it first came out, though.  I see no real lesson to be learned, as some people had described it.  I can't believe some people, after reading it, went about trying to identify the five they'd be likely to encounter.  I mean, if there was any lesson at all, it was exactly that you CAN'T anticipate that.

#2 leaves me wondering why Fitzgerald was so celebrated.  What a pile of dross.

#3 and #4 are typical of those books that could have said everything they had to say in 20 paragraphs, but proceed to take 200 pages to say it.  I didn't get more than halfway through either before I tired of the repetition.

#5 was not at all what I expected, but would have been a fairly good read *IF* I had not started out with much higher expectations.  Frankly, it looks to me like it was written as a romance novel for the women of the time specifically to teach a lesson - that women must avoid romantic fantasies and accept their lot in life, or suffer the consequences.  Hmmm.

#6 was more like an outline.  The author may have had some good tales to tell, but character development and situations were skimpy.  It seems like it was actually just an idea for a television series, which might have been a pretty good show, and this was a demo piece.

#7 was depressing.  I wanted to wade into the novel and slap them all upside the head.

#8 a waste.  Not the stories I knew...

Again, I had high hopes for God Is an Englishman.  It starts out rip-snorting, but about 1/4 of the way through it's starting to bog down.  I find myself frowning a lot.

Yeah, gentlewomen of the time were sheltered, and not all that well educated, but not so much that they didn't see animals "doing it", and weren't so stupid that they couldn't figure it out.  Being taught that sex is unladylike and to be "endured" is not the same as being totally ignorant of what is involved.

And after his trip through the countryside, Adam knows he wants to run his carting business in those spaces not served by the railroads, I think it was the unsullied northeastern part of the isles (don't remember, didn't pay attention, and with the Kindle it's not all that easy to leaf through and find that part - one more way that paper is better than bytes) where he would cart materials from the producers to the nearest railroad - so why on earth has he set his headquarters in London, environs already fully served by rails?  Waggons (yeah, two "g"s), horses, and drivers all stabled in London, when their territory would be many many miles away?  Seems like he should have his stables in the centers of the territories he wants to serve, in multiple locations. But, maybe I'm getting ahead of him.

This book is making me look up a lot of stuff on the internet, like mentions of Chat Moss.  It turns out Chat Moss is a huge peat bog that presented a challenge to the railroad, ingeniously solved by "floating" the rail bed across it.  I also had to look up the movers and shakers of the time, Cleveland bay horses, skewbald, the well at Cawnpore, the Crimean war, various bits of military attire and accoutrements and a bunch of other things.  Leaves me wondering how much I used to miss or gloss over when reading books before the internet.

I'll probably finish "God Is...", but I doubt that I'll want to read the following two parts of the trilogy.

I have high hopes for several other books on the Kindle, and recently I have purchased on paper the latest Stephen King, and a non-fiction book by journalist Michael J. Totten, and a novel by Leonard Pitts that I'm sure will be good, and a few others.

Sheesh.  I've got to stop buying books.
.

3584 More things to share

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

If two people always agree on everything, then one of them is superfluous.

---------------------------------------------------------

Kites!  I didn't know you could do stuff like this with kites!

[http://youtu.be/8q5I5svj7F8]

iQuad performing at the Southern Oregon Kite Festival at Port of Brookings Harbor 7-21-12.

In the comments, JPurvis explains:

"For those who are scratching their heads, the kites that they are flying in the video are quad line kites known as Revolution Kites aka(Rev's). They are flown with 4 lines that are connected to 2 handles. The flyer can control the speed and direction of the kite by using the handles to change the pitch of the kite itself. The lines don't get tangled because they are braided really smooth and slide against each other without causing too much friction."

...and the operators are careful to unwrap after maneuvers that wrap them.

And then of course there are those commenters, the future saviors of the planet, who are yelling "Fake!  You can see the strings!"  Several of them.  Sigh.  Very depressing.  Never never never read YouTube comments.   Lose all hope ye who tread there.

---------------------------------

This, http://184.172.211.159/~gzdocs/documents/statements/audio_interview_0229_3.mp3, is an audio file of police deconstructing the 911 call from George Zimmerman, step by step, with Zimmerman.  Very interesting.

---------------------------------

I have a very long to-do list.  Yesterday I "wasted" a few hours watching a South Korean movie on YouTube, and I'm not at all sorry I did.  It all started with a chance mention of the Korean island of Silmido and some kind of secret mission there.

From the Wikipedia entry on Silmido:

Silmido became historically significant when it was used as the training ground (January 21, 1968 to August 23, 1971) for Unit 684, a South Korean group meant to assassinate North Korean leader Kim Il-sung in revenge for The Blue House Raid assassination attempt against Park Chung-hee. Traces of the training facilities can still be seen. Under circumstances that have still not been fully brought to light, the members of the group mutinied and went to Seoul in 1971, where they were killed or committed suicide.

This led me to the NY Times article on the incident and the movie, and then I found the complete movie on YouTube, with subtitles.

Of course, I couldn't not watch it.

Unit 648, composed of "expendable" men drawn from prisons and the streets endured horrific and often sadistic training to become just about the best and tightest fighting force in Korea..  South Korea has still not admitted much of anything, but a few trainers and guards survived to tell the tale.  The movie starts and ends with the basic facts, but the details of the men's relationships and motives and what happened on the island had to be invented.

The movie says the men mutinied because they found out they were to be killed because they were dangerous and knew too much - a political and social liability.  The official story is that they figured they would be kept on the island indefinitely and it was more like a prison break.  My opinion is that if they mutinied because of despair, they would have dispersed and gone into hiding when they reached the mainland.  Instead, they attacked the government.

The movie is ... I don't know what to say.  It's awful and wonderful.  Technically it's a masterpiece.  A word of advice, though - when you see the fire with the irons in it, and the trainer is speaking of torture, skip ahead about a minute.  I don't know if that scene was that bad, but I didn't stick around to find out.

I don't know why I'd never heard of this before.

Here it is.  It's 2 hours, but you don't have to watch it all at once.  I watched it in 20-minute pieces over the day. Larger screen is better.  If you don't have time now, bookmark it on YouTube.



[http://youtu.be/IaaF_94oBiM]

3583 Sharing

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Jay, during our very wet trip to England in 1995:

"The reason the Brits never had a space program is that they've never seen the sky."

---------------------------------------------------------------

This little French film is amazing.  Don't worry about the length.  The last third is credits.  I found it on Roba's blog, "And Far Away" (link over there on the right).  To quote Roba, "This French short film, Le Miroir (The Mirror) manages to tug at the heart strings. Directed by Ramon and Pedro, it takes you through the entire life of a boy in that bathroom mirror."

[http://vimeo.com/45135870]

----------------------------------

Anybody looking for a way to make some money? Take a look at this woman's stuff on Etsy: http://www.etsy.com/listing/104322901/magic-shoes?ref=sr_gallery_9&ga_search_query=magic+shoes&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=ZZ&ga_min=0&ga_max=0&ga_search_type=all.

The shoes at the link were featured on Regretsy.com. You supply a pair of shoes, and for a mere $2850.00 she'll cover them (badly, sloppily, look at the photos) with duct tape for you. (If the link to the shoes is dead, her shop is at http://www.etsy.com/shop/LindsayRickman?ref=pr_shop_more.)

I wandered around her shop, and she has some very, um, interesting, um, stuff for pipe dream prices.  On the other hand, may as well try.  You can always drop the price if nothing sells.

I wonder if she ever actually sells anything? On the other hand, there are people who will find her work truly interesting, and will pay for a unique piece of art. It's probably a small niche, but then again, there are people who will happily plant 30 pink flamingos in their yard.

But really, I figure she should at least learn to sew....

----------------------------------

Speaking of sewing, I had mentioned a simple little dress that Nugget wore one day.  I figured I could easily copy it.  The (blurry) photos below are of my learning piece.  I found out that the armholes needed to be a little deeper than my tracing showed (I had to deepen them by hand), and it could be a bit shorter.  Also, I need a sewing machine that does buttonholes.  (Until I get a one-o'-them I'm going back to bound buttonholes.  They're easier and they always look good.)


It's reversible to pink seersucker.  The next version will not be reversible (makes it unnecessarily complicated), and will have embroidery or appliques.
.

3582 Priorities

Monday, July 23, 2012

Reality is merely a consensus.

------------------------------------------------------

Um, let's see. 

12 dead from shooting in movie theater in Colorado.  Remaining 59 injured likely to survive.  24-hour news coverage.  Flags all over US go to half-mast.

13 dead in truck accident in Texas.  Remaining 10 injured not likely to live.  Brief stories on news.  Everyone shrugs and makes comments about clown cars.  No mention of flags.

I don't understand.

By the way, there are places in the world where things like the theater shootings happen every day.  Many more places where they happen weekly.  We have no concept.
.

3581 Fireflies

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Guidelines for politics, in the workplace or government:

Sow in secret; reap when everyone’s looking.

------------------------------------------------------

There something odd going on with the fireflies (lightning bugs) tonight.

Normally, they flash and then the light quickly dies down, usually within three seconds   Tonight they are flashing, and then the flash dies down very slowly, like someone is turning down a dimmer switch.  It's taking like six seconds or more to go dark.  (Count it off - it's actually a long time.)  Sometimes they flash again before the previous flash is even half gone.  I've never seen that before.

It's about 77 degrees F out there, so I doubt that it's due to heat.
.

3580 The flock

Sunday, July 22, 2012

When your hand is in the tiger's mouth, you have to pet the head.

-------------------------------------------------

Becs asked for a photo of the flamingos.  There are only a few standing here at the new house, and those few were arranged by a 15-month old toddler, so no photos yet.  But here is the flock from 2008, at the old house, in an unmowed section of the side yard.  There are 30 of them.

3579 Flamingo!

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Touching an idol tarnishes the gilt.

------------------------------------------------------------

This evening the Nugget discovered the garbage can full of flamingos in the back yard, and she seemed to know exactly what we're supposed to do with them.  One already had legs, and she planted that one herself.  After that, she selected a body, her mommy added the legs, and then Nugget carried them to me at the end of the yard, where several pairs are now nestled among the Japanese knotweed.

A pair of flamingos in the yard is tacky.  Thirty of them in tall weeds is pure camp.
.

3578 Progress

Saturday, July 21, 2012

If we really believed in recycling, we'd sign our Christmas cards in pencil.

--------------------------------------------------------

The heat wave finally broke with a terrific thunderstorm mid-week.  Today it's in the 70s, so I'm taking advantage of the coolth (yeah, I made that up, like warmth, but cool) to rig up the pulley system  through the upstairs attic hatch so I can get stuff to the attic without having to carry heavy awkward boxes and containers up the little drop-down ladder.  I don't like ladders.

First I had to sweep the attic.  The floor up there is covered with the builder's debris.  Even though it's in the mid-70s outside, the attic is in full sun, and it has to be in the 90s up there.  I was a little worried that the heat would get to me and I'd collapse and wouldn't be found until I was desiccated (dessicated?  I looked it up and still don't know which to use), but amazingly I was fine.  I sweated a lot, but that was all. No dizziness or anything.  In fact, I sorta liked it.

Soon as I get some more money built up, I want to get an attic fan installed.  They really do help.  Until then I guess I have to be careful what I put in the attic.  If it's that hot up there today, what was it like when it was really hot?

---------------------------------

The day of the thunderstorm (Wednesday?  Thursday?  I forget) we lost power for a few hours.  Losing power at the country house is a big deal, because without power there's no cooking (electric stove), and no water (electric well pump).  That means not only no water at the tap, but no toilets!  So it was a pleasure to still have water here, and to be able to still use the stove by lighting the burner with a match.

With no computer, radio, sewing machine, or TV I decided to read, but because of the dark clouds, pouring rain, and wind, it was dark in the house.  There are at least seven pairs of candlesticks, four oil lamps, and two Coleman lanterns and a camp stove at the country house (when the power goes out there, it's out for days, so that stuff is important), but I haven't brought any of them down here yet.  I do have some tall candles, so I stuck one to a saucer in a pool of melted wax and put it on the breakfast bar in the kitchen.  When I decided to go to the bathroom I was worried about it maybe falling on the counter, so I set the saucer on the ceramic tile floor where if the candle fell it would do no damage.

Oops.

Jasper knows that a dish on the floor means a special snack for him.  He was somewhere else in the house, but I guess the sound of a plate touching the floor is like a can opener to other cats.  As I was rounding the corner leaving the kitchen, I saw him run over and sniff the saucer.  I yelled and dove for him just as he raised his head and sniffed the flame.

He seems to be ok.  Lost some whiskers, but I don't think he got burned.

---------------------------------

The hair.  It was a 6-12 shampoo tint, in "pale ash blond".  After the sixth shampoo, it has gone from brass doorknob to brilliant yellow goldenrod.   Daughter says if I wear a caftan with gold embroidery and chunky gold jewelry "It doesn't look so bad".  Especially if I walk with a flamboyant swish.

Oh dear.

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There's a Civil War cemetery in Hudson, NY.  A group had put flags on the graves.  The flags disappeared, a few one night, more the next night.  By the end of the week, 75 flags were missing.  Big mystery.  The police set up three cameras to catch the culprit.

It was a woodchuck (or groundhog, or marmot, depending on where you're from).

The police put a camera-on-a-snake down a woodchuck hole and found remnants of the flags.

Love it!

[Story, but not much more than I already said, at http://www.dailyfreeman.com/articles/2012/07/09/news/doc4ffa1213d9e33828160370.txt]

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3577 Hey, this is NJ, not FL!

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

There are better ways to get to the top of a tree than by sitting on an acorn.

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2pm.  103 degrees F.

There IS such a thing as too hot to put the top down.
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3576 Wednesday

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Huston Smith, on faith: "We may do things we think are wrong,

but we cannot believe things we think are false."

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It's 7 am and it's already 82 F outside and steamy.  It's going to be a hot day.   I was under the impression that living so close to the water we'd have cool refreshing breezes.

Nope.  Just steam.

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From a Meetup invitation: "Sorry, no pets are aloud to join the party." 

Maybe it means I can bring a boa constrictor?  They're quiet.

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From a weather advisory for the country house:  "Severe thunderstorms, hail up to one inch in diameter or larger."

Do they know what "up to" means?

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I had a hair accident Monday.

My natural color these days is not white or gray.  It's a very pale yellow.  Pale blond, which is pretty much what it had been when I was a baby.  In the winter it's a bit darker, and in the summer, especially since I drive with the top down a lot, it gets bleached to white in the sunlight, although still pale blond indoors.

So, since I like it blond, in the summer I shampoo in a temporary (6-12 shampoos) ash blond tint.   The stuff I use has no bleaching ingredients, so my scattered brown hairs still show through here and there.

Monday I screwed up.  The stuff is supposed to be on your hair 20 minutes.  I usually leave it on 15 minutes.  I had received an email that I wanted to respond to, and started the response after putting the tint on.  I got to thinking about what I was writing, and next thing I knew, 40 minutes had gone by.

I ran to the bathroom, jumped into the shower, lathered it  up, rinsed it off, toweled it dry, looked in the mirror, and ... my hair is the same color as the bathroom door's brass doorknob.  The EXACT same color.  I could see the doorknob in the mirror, next to my hair.  I am not exaggerating.

My hair has been washed four times in the past day and a half, and it's still flaming brass.  A long time ago I'd read that to remove temporary hair color, you should use oil, so my hair has been mayonnaised and olive oiled.  (I thought the mayonnaise would work well because it also has vinegar.)  I've been wearing scarves wrapped around my head, or hats, when I have to go out in public.

I am unhappy.
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3575 Correction

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Do not think it worth while to proceed by concealing evidence,

for the evidence is sure to come to light.

-- Bertrand Russell --

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I erred yesterday in calling that section of Pennsylvania God-forsaken.  It's not.  In many ways it's blessed, exemplifying my idea of where God lives.  The correct term is man-forsaken.

I have corrected it.
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