I've discovered a new snack that could be big trouble for me. Sea Salt Bagel Crisps and brie.
Just slice a bit of brie (with the skin on), and lay it on the crisp. Don't spread it. Yum! Salt, butter, creamy cheese. Yum Yum.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
1915 Snack!
Saturday, July 19, 2008
I've discovered a new snack that could be big trouble for me. Sea Salt Bagel Crisps and brie.
Just slice a bit of brie (with the skin on), and lay it on the crisp. Don't spread it. Yum! Salt, butter, creamy cheese. Yum Yum.
I've discovered a new snack that could be big trouble for me. Sea Salt Bagel Crisps and brie.
Just slice a bit of brie (with the skin on), and lay it on the crisp. Don't spread it. Yum! Salt, butter, creamy cheese. Yum Yum.
Friday, July 18, 2008
1914 Oil
Friday, July 18, 2008
[Public service message on]
There have been some questions about the "oil patterns" on the lanes that I mentioned in the previous post. I can't talk about it in detail, because I'm just learning, and it's all Greek to me. But I'll explain what I can.
The last time I bowled was in probably 1975, in a mixed league, in St. Louis. Public balls, rental shoes, all that. As far as we knew back then, except for the weight, all the balls were the same - round. And we didn't know anything about oil. As far as we knew, they waxed the lanes every week or something. And maybe what we thought then was true then. I don't know.
Since the old days, things have changed drastically. I guess if you're bowling for fun on a Friday evening, the balls are still just round, and the lanes are "waxed or something", who cares, and that's good enough. But not when you're bowling in tournaments for money. At that level, it gets real complicated right quick.
The different balls have different shaped and positioned weights inside that affect the way they roll, and where the finger holes are drilled affect the action further. A bowler has to know his or her own style well to choose the right balls. Here are some examples of ball specs. Click on "Full ball specs" to see the cross-section of the ball, and the expected path.
The exterior material, what the ball is made of, affects how it acts, too.
The lanes are oiled. If you've seen that flat machine crawling down a lane, that's what it's doing. It's laying oil. But the oil is not laid evenly the whole length of the lane. It's laid in patterns. Where the oil is heavy, the ball slides. Where the lane is dry, the ball encounters friction, and if it's spinning it can hook. As the tournament progresses, oil gets "carried down" the lane, and the bowler has to be aware of the changed conditions and compensate, either by changing where the ball is set down, or by using a different ball.
The Man carries six to eight 16-lb balls with him to tournaments.
This is a general description of a few common oil patterns, used on public lanes, and for amateur leagues.
The PBA tournaments use five special, and more challenging, patterns, Chameleon, Cheetah, Shark, Scorpion, and Viper. They're tough. (I'm not positive, but I get the impression that a particular tournament will use one particular pattern, advertised up front.) The five are described here. The first one up at the link is the Shark. Click on the logos to see the others.
Most people don't know all that, and like I said, I'm just learning. There's a LOT more science to it that I'm not aware of yet. The Man is frustrated because pro bowling doesn't get an audience or respect, partly because people don't understand how exacting it is, and partly because there's a low class image. Because of the image problem, PBA bowlers are not allowed to drink, smoke, or swear while in the building or on the grounds, even when practicing. There's a whole set of rules, breaking of which can get you suspended.
Another problem is that Joe Blow has a 220 average in his Tuesday night league, so he thinks he's as good as the pros. No respect for them. He doesn't know about the oil patterns in tournament bowling. They make a BIG difference. You have to think and compensate constantly.
[Public service message off]
.
[Public service message on]
There have been some questions about the "oil patterns" on the lanes that I mentioned in the previous post. I can't talk about it in detail, because I'm just learning, and it's all Greek to me. But I'll explain what I can.
The last time I bowled was in probably 1975, in a mixed league, in St. Louis. Public balls, rental shoes, all that. As far as we knew back then, except for the weight, all the balls were the same - round. And we didn't know anything about oil. As far as we knew, they waxed the lanes every week or something. And maybe what we thought then was true then. I don't know.
Since the old days, things have changed drastically. I guess if you're bowling for fun on a Friday evening, the balls are still just round, and the lanes are "waxed or something", who cares, and that's good enough. But not when you're bowling in tournaments for money. At that level, it gets real complicated right quick.
The different balls have different shaped and positioned weights inside that affect the way they roll, and where the finger holes are drilled affect the action further. A bowler has to know his or her own style well to choose the right balls. Here are some examples of ball specs. Click on "Full ball specs" to see the cross-section of the ball, and the expected path.
The exterior material, what the ball is made of, affects how it acts, too.
The lanes are oiled. If you've seen that flat machine crawling down a lane, that's what it's doing. It's laying oil. But the oil is not laid evenly the whole length of the lane. It's laid in patterns. Where the oil is heavy, the ball slides. Where the lane is dry, the ball encounters friction, and if it's spinning it can hook. As the tournament progresses, oil gets "carried down" the lane, and the bowler has to be aware of the changed conditions and compensate, either by changing where the ball is set down, or by using a different ball.
The Man carries six to eight 16-lb balls with him to tournaments.
This is a general description of a few common oil patterns, used on public lanes, and for amateur leagues.
The PBA tournaments use five special, and more challenging, patterns, Chameleon, Cheetah, Shark, Scorpion, and Viper. They're tough. (I'm not positive, but I get the impression that a particular tournament will use one particular pattern, advertised up front.) The five are described here. The first one up at the link is the Shark. Click on the logos to see the others.
Most people don't know all that, and like I said, I'm just learning. There's a LOT more science to it that I'm not aware of yet. The Man is frustrated because pro bowling doesn't get an audience or respect, partly because people don't understand how exacting it is, and partly because there's a low class image. Because of the image problem, PBA bowlers are not allowed to drink, smoke, or swear while in the building or on the grounds, even when practicing. There's a whole set of rules, breaking of which can get you suspended.
Another problem is that Joe Blow has a 220 average in his Tuesday night league, so he thinks he's as good as the pros. No respect for them. He doesn't know about the oil patterns in tournament bowling. They make a BIG difference. You have to think and compensate constantly.
[Public service message off]
.
1913 Brazen
Friday, July 18, 2008
I went to NJ yesterday for dinner with The Man, and to watch him practice. He got two lanes, and bowled twelve straight games, rapidly, going back and forth between the two. He had requested an oil pattern he hates (Shark) because that's what he needs to work on I guess, but I was still very impressed. He's been practicing a lot more the past few weeks, and it shows.
I rushed back this morning to meet Piper for walking, and he wasn't in his office. There was a young man there answering phones, and he didn't know where Piper was, either. I left him cell messages, but haven't heard from him (although, like me, he sometimes forgets to turn the thing on). So, I'm a bit worried about him (or more accurately, his mother).
I was introduced to a new (to me) group last night - The Brazen Heads, out of Phoenix, Arizona. They're Celtic rock. See this video ("Who's Yer Paddy"). It's cute. Some people are comparing them to BNL, but I suspect maybe it's their irreverence, rather than their music.
.
I went to NJ yesterday for dinner with The Man, and to watch him practice. He got two lanes, and bowled twelve straight games, rapidly, going back and forth between the two. He had requested an oil pattern he hates (Shark) because that's what he needs to work on I guess, but I was still very impressed. He's been practicing a lot more the past few weeks, and it shows.
I rushed back this morning to meet Piper for walking, and he wasn't in his office. There was a young man there answering phones, and he didn't know where Piper was, either. I left him cell messages, but haven't heard from him (although, like me, he sometimes forgets to turn the thing on). So, I'm a bit worried about him (or more accurately, his mother).
I was introduced to a new (to me) group last night - The Brazen Heads, out of Phoenix, Arizona. They're Celtic rock. See this video ("Who's Yer Paddy"). It's cute. Some people are comparing them to BNL, but I suspect maybe it's their irreverence, rather than their music.
.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
1912 Real estate and taxes
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Yesterday I read about and listened to discussion of New York State property taxes. The rankings range from "175% of the average", to "sixth highest in the nation", which is not the biggest concern. The greatest concern is that they keep going up, by ridiculous amounts, every year, and there's no end in sight. Most people blame the school budgets, but the county budgets contribute.
My house is paid off, so I have no mortgage or rent, but the real estate taxes on my house (which is about mid-line in value) amount to over $500 per month. And I get a senior exemption. My neighbors pay higher.
There's an amusing blog I follow - http://lovelylisting.blogspot.com/, "It's Lovely! I'll Take It!" - wherein the blogger shows photos from real estate listings, the type of photos that make you wonder what the sellers were thinking, "do they really want to sell this house?" You can click on a link in the post and go to the actual listing. I've been doing that because I like looking at houses for sale. (If showing houses was all that was required, I'd have been very happy as a realtor. Too bad you have to go out and drum up business, too. I can't do that.) Anyway, check the blog out.
So after thinking about taxes, I wondered what others were paying, and I went to some of the listings to find out. For comparison I used not what the sellers were asking for the house, but the tax assessed value. NYS counties try to use actual value (and that "actual value" is usually higher than you'd get for the house if you tried to sell it). Other places seem to use a value much smaller than the market value. So if the assessed value of a comparable house was $100k elsewhere, I multiplied the amount of tax paid by 5 to compare it to an assessed value of $500k here.
What I discovered is very upsetting.
In the Los Angeles area, Seattle, Boston, Washington DC suburbs, and everywhere else I looked, I'm paying anywhere from three to eight times what they're paying.
For what?
.
Yesterday I read about and listened to discussion of New York State property taxes. The rankings range from "175% of the average", to "sixth highest in the nation", which is not the biggest concern. The greatest concern is that they keep going up, by ridiculous amounts, every year, and there's no end in sight. Most people blame the school budgets, but the county budgets contribute.
My house is paid off, so I have no mortgage or rent, but the real estate taxes on my house (which is about mid-line in value) amount to over $500 per month. And I get a senior exemption. My neighbors pay higher.
There's an amusing blog I follow - http://lovelylisting.blogspot.com/, "It's Lovely! I'll Take It!" - wherein the blogger shows photos from real estate listings, the type of photos that make you wonder what the sellers were thinking, "do they really want to sell this house?" You can click on a link in the post and go to the actual listing. I've been doing that because I like looking at houses for sale. (If showing houses was all that was required, I'd have been very happy as a realtor. Too bad you have to go out and drum up business, too. I can't do that.) Anyway, check the blog out.
So after thinking about taxes, I wondered what others were paying, and I went to some of the listings to find out. For comparison I used not what the sellers were asking for the house, but the tax assessed value. NYS counties try to use actual value (and that "actual value" is usually higher than you'd get for the house if you tried to sell it). Other places seem to use a value much smaller than the market value. So if the assessed value of a comparable house was $100k elsewhere, I multiplied the amount of tax paid by 5 to compare it to an assessed value of $500k here.
What I discovered is very upsetting.
In the Los Angeles area, Seattle, Boston, Washington DC suburbs, and everywhere else I looked, I'm paying anywhere from three to eight times what they're paying.
For what?
.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
1911 Heels and Nails
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Walked with Piper again today. He's really enjoying it, the commitment thing. It's even got him back on his machines at home. Friday is our next day to walk, and it's supposed to be well over 90 with high humidity. I said I wasn't sure I wanted to walk in that, but he wants to, even if it's a shorter walk, so, against my better judgment, I got guilted into agreeing. [That sentence got edited. It originally said I got quilted into it. I looked at it a long time, aware there was something wrong with it, but I couldn't figure out what. It almost made sense; "guilted" isn't a word, and "quilted" is, and that's part of the problem.]
So anyway, just in case, being of mostly sound mind, I leave all my worldly goods to my daughter.
-----------------------------------
Back when I went to work every day, I wore high heels and nail polish. When I retired, I swore no more heels over 1.5", and no more nail polish. The heels prohibition lasted 11 years, and I haven't worn nail polish in 14 years.
When you wear nail polish every day, your nails turn yellow, so you are almost forced to polish them, even though it gets to be a royal pain. In the winter my nails are brittle, and stay shortish, and the polish lasts five or six days before it gets too chipped. In the summer, my nails are more flexible, easily get to one inch long, and by the third day, polish is all chipped and flaking off. Which wouldn't be too bad except that for some reason polish takes forever to dry on my nails. I can't do anything else for like three hours when I polish them. I've tried the drying sprays and olive oil, but they seem to make the polish too hard on the flexing nails, so it chips even sooner.
Well, about two years ago I start easing into higher heels again.
Today, I don't know why, I bought nail polish and did my nails.
I think I'm slowly losing my mind.
.
Walked with Piper again today. He's really enjoying it, the commitment thing. It's even got him back on his machines at home. Friday is our next day to walk, and it's supposed to be well over 90 with high humidity. I said I wasn't sure I wanted to walk in that, but he wants to, even if it's a shorter walk, so, against my better judgment, I got guilted into agreeing. [That sentence got edited. It originally said I got quilted into it. I looked at it a long time, aware there was something wrong with it, but I couldn't figure out what. It almost made sense; "guilted" isn't a word, and "quilted" is, and that's part of the problem.]
So anyway, just in case, being of mostly sound mind, I leave all my worldly goods to my daughter.
-----------------------------------
Back when I went to work every day, I wore high heels and nail polish. When I retired, I swore no more heels over 1.5", and no more nail polish. The heels prohibition lasted 11 years, and I haven't worn nail polish in 14 years.
When you wear nail polish every day, your nails turn yellow, so you are almost forced to polish them, even though it gets to be a royal pain. In the winter my nails are brittle, and stay shortish, and the polish lasts five or six days before it gets too chipped. In the summer, my nails are more flexible, easily get to one inch long, and by the third day, polish is all chipped and flaking off. Which wouldn't be too bad except that for some reason polish takes forever to dry on my nails. I can't do anything else for like three hours when I polish them. I've tried the drying sprays and olive oil, but they seem to make the polish too hard on the flexing nails, so it chips even sooner.
Well, about two years ago I start easing into higher heels again.
Today, I don't know why, I bought nail polish and did my nails.
I think I'm slowly losing my mind.
.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
1910 Lotsa reading
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
I went to dinner with Mensa this evening, to a vegetarian/vegan restaurant in Tivoli. I had a veggie stir fry with a coconut milk sauce and rice noodles. It was pretty good, but, sorry, the chunks of tofu in it just don't satisfy the carnivore in me.
The conversation was pretty good (there were nine of us). John was talking about an enormous snapping turtle in his pond, that he's been trying to kill, "bullets just bounce right off him". That lead to a conversation between him and the guy next to him about hunting in general, deer in particular, which spread to our end of the table. Angie and I later realized with horror that this conversation was being carried on in a vegan restaurant! I'm surprised we got out of there alive.
-----------------------------------
I spent most of today reading comments on a British "Guardian" article. I rarely (well, almost never) read comments on online American articles, because the sheer stupidity, illiteracy, jingoism, nastiness, and posturing of the American public, or at least those who comment on articles, sicken me. British comments are worth reading, and I got pulled in.
The article itself is "Do Muslim Women Need Liberating?", by Nesrine Malik. It's simply a report of a panel discussion she'd attended. The comments were more interesting than the article. There are more than 300 now, and I read them all (you have to click on "Go to all comments" to read the early ones, which are the best. About halfway through a guy called "Liberator" joins in, and the discussion disintegrates.)
This is a comment from "Shellshock" that gave me food for thought:
There was a lot of discussion about how much (clothing laws, legal restrictions, honor killings, female genital mutilation, etc.) is due to Islam, and how much is cultural, independent of Islam. I learned a lot.
One thing I didn't know is that until the early '70s, there was no requirement that women be covered. It started in Egypt, of all places.
Later in the comments there's a discussion of the theory that terrorism, especially suicide bombing, is fueled by a combination of "honor killing" and male sexual frustration. If it is honorable to kill your own sister, daughter, or mother for breaking religious laws, then it's so much easier to kill infidels.
Well, that was my day.
And now I want to go out and shake some sense and pride into all those girls in minuscule skirts with their belly buttons and boobs hanging out. By whose definition is that "good"?
.
I went to dinner with Mensa this evening, to a vegetarian/vegan restaurant in Tivoli. I had a veggie stir fry with a coconut milk sauce and rice noodles. It was pretty good, but, sorry, the chunks of tofu in it just don't satisfy the carnivore in me.
The conversation was pretty good (there were nine of us). John was talking about an enormous snapping turtle in his pond, that he's been trying to kill, "bullets just bounce right off him". That lead to a conversation between him and the guy next to him about hunting in general, deer in particular, which spread to our end of the table. Angie and I later realized with horror that this conversation was being carried on in a vegan restaurant! I'm surprised we got out of there alive.
-----------------------------------
I spent most of today reading comments on a British "Guardian" article. I rarely (well, almost never) read comments on online American articles, because the sheer stupidity, illiteracy, jingoism, nastiness, and posturing of the American public, or at least those who comment on articles, sicken me. British comments are worth reading, and I got pulled in.
The article itself is "Do Muslim Women Need Liberating?", by Nesrine Malik. It's simply a report of a panel discussion she'd attended. The comments were more interesting than the article. There are more than 300 now, and I read them all (you have to click on "Go to all comments" to read the early ones, which are the best. About halfway through a guy called "Liberator" joins in, and the discussion disintegrates.)
This is a comment from "Shellshock" that gave me food for thought:
I think the reason that people get so het up about the hijab and burka etc is the question of what extent they are truly exercising 'choice'. In the same way I would question a woman who 'chooses' to become a lap dancer, or to expose her body for the purpose of titillatiing men.Many of the comments about the "choice" to wear the hijab reminded me of the Suburban St. Louis housewife who declared, in 1972, when the US women's liberation movement was going strong, that she "[didn't] need liberating, because my husband lets me do anything I want." We all sat there and stared at her, because we realized there was no way we could explain to her what was wrong with that statement. I was finding that same blindness in women who claimed that they "choose" to wear the hijab. Or who hold their daughter down for a clitorectomy.
On what precept are women making these choices? Have cabals of women sat down and decided these are desirable things to do, or do they stem from living under a patriarchal system where a womans body is seen as a piece of meat either to be covered in order to control male desire, or to uncover to precipitate male desire. In each case the decision is made on a value system that views women through the male gaze, and not through the experience of women, nor does either practice (robing and disrobing) bring any discernible benefit to women collectively.
I see both practices, covering up and undressing to be a sexually provocative act. The covered up is acknowledging her sexuality in the same way as the undressed, the only difference is that the undressed is more honest about it. Because women who express excessive piety and obedience towards their religion are elevated over the sluts and get more brownie points (and small advances in their freedoms from the men), but at the root of their actions is to behave according to a male outlook on how women should behave in the mans world.
There was a lot of discussion about how much (clothing laws, legal restrictions, honor killings, female genital mutilation, etc.) is due to Islam, and how much is cultural, independent of Islam. I learned a lot.
One thing I didn't know is that until the early '70s, there was no requirement that women be covered. It started in Egypt, of all places.
Later in the comments there's a discussion of the theory that terrorism, especially suicide bombing, is fueled by a combination of "honor killing" and male sexual frustration. If it is honorable to kill your own sister, daughter, or mother for breaking religious laws, then it's so much easier to kill infidels.
Well, that was my day.
And now I want to go out and shake some sense and pride into all those girls in minuscule skirts with their belly buttons and boobs hanging out. By whose definition is that "good"?
.
1909 Confused about corn
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
I've been hearing and reading about how world food costs are going up, mainly because corn and soy are going to biofuels instead of the table. (Gasoline costs affect the US, but in the rest of the world gasoline has always been high.)
The other day I went shopping for what we used to call "TV dinners" - you know, those Stouffer's and Lean Cuisine things - because I wanted to stock up on food that took no effort. Lately, I have been going days at a time without eating at all, other than trail mix (fruit, nut, and oat mix), yogurt, tea, and coffee, and if I want to work on losing weight, that doesn't help, because it lowers my metabolism and puts my body into "efficient" mode. If I had some things I could throw into the microwave, and then throw the dish away instead of washing it, I'd have no excuse not to eat. Excuses are easy for me, because I don't often feel "hunger". (And yes, I do feel guilty about buying frozen dinners. I do know better. But we're working with a resistance to housework here, so unless you're willing to come and cook and clean for me, hush yo' mouth.)
I'm a big veggie eater. I want my veggies. I also need meat, or it's not a meal. So my shopping qualifications were "meat, and lots of green and/or yellow vegetables". I couldn't find much of anything acceptable.
I had a choice of like 35 offerings. Many of them contained no vegetables, just meat, cheese, and bread. A very large percentage of the ones that were supposed to be full meals had for vegetables only potatoes and corn.
Potatoes AND corn? Yeah, mashed, boiled, or roasted potatoes are good for you, and corn is good, but NOT together (they're both starches) and NOT instead of carrots, spinach, squash, eggplant, onions, broccoli, cauliflower, green beans, wax beans, parsnips, asparagus, cabbage, beets, peas, green pepper, ... all the other stuff they could have put in there instead.
It can't be that corn and potatoes are the cheapest things available, not if the biofuels thing is true. So why is all that corn there? It has to be that that's what the public will buy.
If the IGA frozen foods case is an example of what people are willing to buy, we're in trouble.
.
I've been hearing and reading about how world food costs are going up, mainly because corn and soy are going to biofuels instead of the table. (Gasoline costs affect the US, but in the rest of the world gasoline has always been high.)
The other day I went shopping for what we used to call "TV dinners" - you know, those Stouffer's and Lean Cuisine things - because I wanted to stock up on food that took no effort. Lately, I have been going days at a time without eating at all, other than trail mix (fruit, nut, and oat mix), yogurt, tea, and coffee, and if I want to work on losing weight, that doesn't help, because it lowers my metabolism and puts my body into "efficient" mode. If I had some things I could throw into the microwave, and then throw the dish away instead of washing it, I'd have no excuse not to eat. Excuses are easy for me, because I don't often feel "hunger". (And yes, I do feel guilty about buying frozen dinners. I do know better. But we're working with a resistance to housework here, so unless you're willing to come and cook and clean for me, hush yo' mouth.)
I'm a big veggie eater. I want my veggies. I also need meat, or it's not a meal. So my shopping qualifications were "meat, and lots of green and/or yellow vegetables". I couldn't find much of anything acceptable.
I had a choice of like 35 offerings. Many of them contained no vegetables, just meat, cheese, and bread. A very large percentage of the ones that were supposed to be full meals had for vegetables only potatoes and corn.
Potatoes AND corn? Yeah, mashed, boiled, or roasted potatoes are good for you, and corn is good, but NOT together (they're both starches) and NOT instead of carrots, spinach, squash, eggplant, onions, broccoli, cauliflower, green beans, wax beans, parsnips, asparagus, cabbage, beets, peas, green pepper, ... all the other stuff they could have put in there instead.
It can't be that corn and potatoes are the cheapest things available, not if the biofuels thing is true. So why is all that corn there? It has to be that that's what the public will buy.
If the IGA frozen foods case is an example of what people are willing to buy, we're in trouble.
.
Monday, July 14, 2008
1908 Walking with Piper
Monday, July 14, 2008
Piper and I have started our exercise commitment. We're going to walk three times a week. He has a treadmill, but rarely manages to work up the enthusiasm. I'll get out and walk (let's not discuss my treadmill, buried under mending in the bedroom), but I'll accept any excuse not to. So we're going to keep each other honest.
Today was our first day. It took 15 minutes to get him off the phone and out of the office. Once we got going it was nice. It seems a lot shorter with company.
We walked through a residential area, and then back into the middle of the village, and that's when we got bogged down. He had to stop and talk to everyone we passed, and supervise construction projects, and window shop, and so on. It doesn't really matter, it's the distance not the time that matters to weight loss, but the point is to use no more time than he would usually take for a relaxed lunch. If it eats up too much of his day it could become onerous.
My goal Wednesday will be to get a walk in, and a quick lunch, and deposit him back in his office by 1 pm, just to show him it can be done. I'll take him on a loop that avoids most of the village center. It goes through the cemetery, but at least those folks don't converse.
.
Piper and I have started our exercise commitment. We're going to walk three times a week. He has a treadmill, but rarely manages to work up the enthusiasm. I'll get out and walk (let's not discuss my treadmill, buried under mending in the bedroom), but I'll accept any excuse not to. So we're going to keep each other honest.
Today was our first day. It took 15 minutes to get him off the phone and out of the office. Once we got going it was nice. It seems a lot shorter with company.
We walked through a residential area, and then back into the middle of the village, and that's when we got bogged down. He had to stop and talk to everyone we passed, and supervise construction projects, and window shop, and so on. It doesn't really matter, it's the distance not the time that matters to weight loss, but the point is to use no more time than he would usually take for a relaxed lunch. If it eats up too much of his day it could become onerous.
My goal Wednesday will be to get a walk in, and a quick lunch, and deposit him back in his office by 1 pm, just to show him it can be done. I'll take him on a loop that avoids most of the village center. It goes through the cemetery, but at least those folks don't converse.
.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
1907 Sundays destroyed
Sunday, July 13, 2008
And here's why I don't dare get cable. A local TV station shows movies on Sunday - usually very odd movies that I'd never heard of before - and I end up watching the flippin' movies instead of getting anything else done.
Today was "Drop Dead Gorgeous". It was full of little throw-away lines that cracked me up.
Like, the second runnerup prize in a town beauty pageant was a $50 scholarship to "the Vo-Tek of her choice".
And after Tammy was killed in a farm vehicle accident, and it was ruled "smoking and driving", Amber knows it was murder because, "Well, yeah, Tammy liked to drive her dad's thresher. She said the heavy vibrations helped clear her mind. But I know Tammy only smoked AFTER a good drive."
More good lines here.
I've got to get a copy and share it with anyone I can pin down for 90 minutes!
-----------------------------
Later - Ack! "Lost in Space" the movie is on now, with Joey, from "Friends". I tuned in in the middle, and didn't recognize it until the robot said "Danger, Will Robinson!"
The funniest thing about this offering is how seriously the actors are taking their characters. I'm cracking up again! Shades of Joey playing his soap opera character Dr. Drake Ramoray.
.
And here's why I don't dare get cable. A local TV station shows movies on Sunday - usually very odd movies that I'd never heard of before - and I end up watching the flippin' movies instead of getting anything else done.
Today was "Drop Dead Gorgeous". It was full of little throw-away lines that cracked me up.
Like, the second runnerup prize in a town beauty pageant was a $50 scholarship to "the Vo-Tek of her choice".
And after Tammy was killed in a farm vehicle accident, and it was ruled "smoking and driving", Amber knows it was murder because, "Well, yeah, Tammy liked to drive her dad's thresher. She said the heavy vibrations helped clear her mind. But I know Tammy only smoked AFTER a good drive."
More good lines here.
I've got to get a copy and share it with anyone I can pin down for 90 minutes!
-----------------------------
Later - Ack! "Lost in Space" the movie is on now, with Joey, from "Friends". I tuned in in the middle, and didn't recognize it until the robot said "Danger, Will Robinson!"
The funniest thing about this offering is how seriously the actors are taking their characters. I'm cracking up again! Shades of Joey playing his soap opera character Dr. Drake Ramoray.
.
1906 My car is heavy.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
I just went to the auction house and picked up my table.
They put the base in the trunk, and I think I can get that out alone. The top went into the back seat, resting on the floor and leaning against the seat, and that's going to be a problem.
Last night, when I looked at it pre-auction, I hefted one side of the top - it wasn't attached to the base - and I was able to lift it easily with one hand. Underneath, it looked and felt like gray wood, so I figured it was a marble veneer on wood (and what the bidding went like would have bolstered that thought).
Whoa! Was I wrong! It's marble on lesser quality marble. It's solid marble, even the edges. So I've got a 1.5" x 39.5" slap of solid marble in my back seat. It took two strong men to wrestle it into the car. I haven't the faintest idea how I'm going to get it out.
I may have to put in an SOS call to the Hairless Hunk.
.
I just went to the auction house and picked up my table.
They put the base in the trunk, and I think I can get that out alone. The top went into the back seat, resting on the floor and leaning against the seat, and that's going to be a problem.
Last night, when I looked at it pre-auction, I hefted one side of the top - it wasn't attached to the base - and I was able to lift it easily with one hand. Underneath, it looked and felt like gray wood, so I figured it was a marble veneer on wood (and what the bidding went like would have bolstered that thought).
Whoa! Was I wrong! It's marble on lesser quality marble. It's solid marble, even the edges. So I've got a 1.5" x 39.5" slap of solid marble in my back seat. It took two strong men to wrestle it into the car. I haven't the faintest idea how I'm going to get it out.
I may have to put in an SOS call to the Hairless Hunk.
.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
1905 Auction
Saturday, July 12, 2008
So, I went to the auction. Amazing.
I'm aware that the economy is tanking. I most certainly have noticed gas and food prices. But tonight really hammered it home.
One of the reasons I hadn't gone to any of George's auctions in a long while is that he has gained quite a reputation, and, especially in the summer, he gets interior designers from NYC and Westchester coming in. They bid high, because they already have customers for the stuff, and will just pass the cost on to them. George also gets antique dealers from all around the five county area. The past several years, there have been no bargains for little folk like me.
The auction hall is usually full to bursting, all seats full and people standing around the walls. Of the 450-500 items he usually has, only a few items get no bids (usually carnival glass).
Tonight, the seats were maybe 1/3 full, and many perfectly nice things got no bids.
I don't understand it, because the items were unusual and beautiful, and in great condition, even the primitives. Except for instances like the auction of the Bob Guccione mansion contents, we are never told where the stuff came from. From the looks of things tonight, I'd say a high-end antique shop went out of business.
Becs, your Gustav Stickley #637 oak library table:
went for $600. (The light patches are just in the photo.) They had a page from the original Stickley catalog showing that table, and it was listed at $25 ($38 with a leather top).
The following photos are a Biedermeier dining set. It's not my taste, but the Biedermeier style tends to be high quality, solid and heavy, and gorgeous wood. Individual pieces normally sell for over $2,000.
The buffet:
China cabinet (light spots are reflection off the shine):
Server:
Table:
The entire set sold for $300. Even if one doesn't need a dining room set, you could throw a mattress on the table and use it as a bedroom suit!
The next two are late nineteenth/early twentieth century sets. The upholstery on the first set glowed. It is a very pretty set. The second set is mahogany with mother of pearl inlay that I could see working perfectly in a modern foyer. I believe George dropped to as low as $50 as an opening bid, but I don't think either of them sold.
My haul? I bought this table:
and paid a tenth of what I was willing to go for it. The top is marble. The base looks like carved wood, but is actually ceramic. It's 29" high, and about 38" across, I think.
I also bought a lamp. All the above photos were scarfed from George's website, but he didn't have a photo of my lamp out there. There were about 500 items at auction, but he had photos of only a handful. This picture happens to be one I found online and saved several months ago when I was searching for a Victorian-looking lamp for my desk. It was exactly what I was looking for, but it was several thousand dollars.
The lamp I bought tonight is very similar. It's genuine circa 1920s, not a reproduction, rewired, black instead of brass, the base is a bit less gloppy, and the lilies are yellow shading into orange. I like it.
$150.
I almost fell off my chair.
George was not happy.
So, I went to the auction. Amazing.
I'm aware that the economy is tanking. I most certainly have noticed gas and food prices. But tonight really hammered it home.
One of the reasons I hadn't gone to any of George's auctions in a long while is that he has gained quite a reputation, and, especially in the summer, he gets interior designers from NYC and Westchester coming in. They bid high, because they already have customers for the stuff, and will just pass the cost on to them. George also gets antique dealers from all around the five county area. The past several years, there have been no bargains for little folk like me.
The auction hall is usually full to bursting, all seats full and people standing around the walls. Of the 450-500 items he usually has, only a few items get no bids (usually carnival glass).
Tonight, the seats were maybe 1/3 full, and many perfectly nice things got no bids.
I don't understand it, because the items were unusual and beautiful, and in great condition, even the primitives. Except for instances like the auction of the Bob Guccione mansion contents, we are never told where the stuff came from. From the looks of things tonight, I'd say a high-end antique shop went out of business.
Becs, your Gustav Stickley #637 oak library table:
went for $600. (The light patches are just in the photo.) They had a page from the original Stickley catalog showing that table, and it was listed at $25 ($38 with a leather top).
The following photos are a Biedermeier dining set. It's not my taste, but the Biedermeier style tends to be high quality, solid and heavy, and gorgeous wood. Individual pieces normally sell for over $2,000.
The buffet:
China cabinet (light spots are reflection off the shine):
Server:
Table:
The entire set sold for $300. Even if one doesn't need a dining room set, you could throw a mattress on the table and use it as a bedroom suit!
The next two are late nineteenth/early twentieth century sets. The upholstery on the first set glowed. It is a very pretty set. The second set is mahogany with mother of pearl inlay that I could see working perfectly in a modern foyer. I believe George dropped to as low as $50 as an opening bid, but I don't think either of them sold.
My haul? I bought this table:
and paid a tenth of what I was willing to go for it. The top is marble. The base looks like carved wood, but is actually ceramic. It's 29" high, and about 38" across, I think.
I also bought a lamp. All the above photos were scarfed from George's website, but he didn't have a photo of my lamp out there. There were about 500 items at auction, but he had photos of only a handful. This picture happens to be one I found online and saved several months ago when I was searching for a Victorian-looking lamp for my desk. It was exactly what I was looking for, but it was several thousand dollars.
The lamp I bought tonight is very similar. It's genuine circa 1920s, not a reproduction, rewired, black instead of brass, the base is a bit less gloppy, and the lilies are yellow shading into orange. I like it.
$150.
I almost fell off my chair.
George was not happy.
1904 Saturday
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Last night was nice. Perfect weather, perfect companion, enjoyable performance.
Maybe we don't see each other enough. We always walk hand-in-hand, this after 16 months of dating. We held hands during the play - doubly. He held my left in his left on his lap, and my right in his right on my lap. It feels like we're too old for that kind of thing, yet I can't imagine it otherwise.
------------------------------
I overheard a conversation in the bank. It's actually a credit union, and membership has its benefits, like signature loans. I have a standing arrangement whereby I can write a check up to several thousand over my balance anytime it's necessary, and it's covered by a loan.
A man who looked about late 20s or early 30s walked in and asked for a signature loan, very important that he have the money immediately. The rep asked if he was a member, and he said no. She said he'd have to be a member to be eligible for a loan with no security. He asked how to be a member. She said, "You open an account."
He produced a third party check for $100, which he said he would deposit to open an account. He then went on to say that he'd keep the account until he got the loan, and then he'd close the account and leave the $100 there. "You can keep it." It was important that he get the money today.
Ok, I can believe a youngish guy not knowing how banks work, but he was accompanied by an older woman, who, from the way she spoke to him I believe was probably his mother. She was carrying an infant. I can't believe she thought this ploy would work.
I finished my business and left with my head reeling before the end of the conversation.
.
Last night was nice. Perfect weather, perfect companion, enjoyable performance.
Maybe we don't see each other enough. We always walk hand-in-hand, this after 16 months of dating. We held hands during the play - doubly. He held my left in his left on his lap, and my right in his right on my lap. It feels like we're too old for that kind of thing, yet I can't imagine it otherwise.
------------------------------
I overheard a conversation in the bank. It's actually a credit union, and membership has its benefits, like signature loans. I have a standing arrangement whereby I can write a check up to several thousand over my balance anytime it's necessary, and it's covered by a loan.
A man who looked about late 20s or early 30s walked in and asked for a signature loan, very important that he have the money immediately. The rep asked if he was a member, and he said no. She said he'd have to be a member to be eligible for a loan with no security. He asked how to be a member. She said, "You open an account."
He produced a third party check for $100, which he said he would deposit to open an account. He then went on to say that he'd keep the account until he got the loan, and then he'd close the account and leave the $100 there. "You can keep it." It was important that he get the money today.
Ok, I can believe a youngish guy not knowing how banks work, but he was accompanied by an older woman, who, from the way she spoke to him I believe was probably his mother. She was carrying an infant. I can't believe she thought this ploy would work.
I finished my business and left with my head reeling before the end of the conversation.
.
Friday, July 11, 2008
1903 Shakesp3are
Friday, July 11, 2008
The Man and I are meeting in Garrison tonight, to attend a performance of Twelfth Night at Boscobel.
It's an experience. There's video here from the Cymbeline performance (which I will be going to with Mensa in about two weeks) that gives a small hint. The dark arcs you see are the edges of the tent. They use the inside of the tent and the lawn beyond as the stage, with the Hudson River and West Point as a backdrop.
The tent:
I have a thousand things to do between now and 5:30, like clean the litter boxes, deposit some checks, wash hair and clean me up, find something appropriate to wear preferably not from the laundry pile, pick up stuff from the post office, clean out the car, put together a recycle load for tomorrow, and map the route.
So, g'bye.
.
The Man and I are meeting in Garrison tonight, to attend a performance of Twelfth Night at Boscobel.
It's an experience. There's video here from the Cymbeline performance (which I will be going to with Mensa in about two weeks) that gives a small hint. The dark arcs you see are the edges of the tent. They use the inside of the tent and the lawn beyond as the stage, with the Hudson River and West Point as a backdrop.
The tent:
I have a thousand things to do between now and 5:30, like clean the litter boxes, deposit some checks, wash hair and clean me up, find something appropriate to wear preferably not from the laundry pile, pick up stuff from the post office, clean out the car, put together a recycle load for tomorrow, and map the route.
So, g'bye.
.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
1902 Splitting Up
Thursday, July 10, 2008
A note on the previous post - Jay was clean on everything tested, all the hepatitis variations, all the STDs, everything. The only surprise was that he had only one kidney, and a dried-up walnut where the other one should have been.
------------------------
The sisters are dividing up the late father-in-law's estate. One sister wanted to sell all the stock and distribute the cash. One sister wanted to distribute the shares, because the market is in the toilet. I don't know what the third sister wanted, but they decided to distribute shares.
There's really no difference, even if the market is so bad, because although it's a bad time to sell, it's also a good time to buy, so it doesn't make much difference to me. The one thing you don't want to do is sell and then just let the cash sit.
So anyway, I got the word that I'm to open an online brokerage account to receive my shares. I spent some time doing that today. (I don't like the brokerage they chose - I think their costs are too high, but I don't expect to be with them long.)
There's one thing that disturbs me about distributing shares. If the stock is sold and the proceeds distributed, then everyone gets the same. If, however, shares are distributed, there is a potential for inequity.
Depending on the history and future of the company, $1 worth of stock in company ABC can be of greater intrinsic value than $1 worth of stock in company XYZ. For example, there's a big difference between $1000 in Exxon (future recovery), and $1000 in Millennium Cell (possible bankruptcy).
I don't know how many different stocks they're looking at (having been ousted from the executor position I'm no longer privy to that information until the accounting), but I sent them a note suggesting that shares be distributed by count in any one company. Divide the number of shares by the number of portions, distribute to the parties proportionately, sell any remainder (a maximum of six shares in every case), and distribute the sales proceeds. That's fair, everybody gets exactly the same, and it heads off any later claims of inequity.
Mainly, I want to let them know that I will object to any division that leaves me with all the crap stocks, even if the current value is nominally the same. And I can't assume they already thought of that.
.
A note on the previous post - Jay was clean on everything tested, all the hepatitis variations, all the STDs, everything. The only surprise was that he had only one kidney, and a dried-up walnut where the other one should have been.
------------------------
The sisters are dividing up the late father-in-law's estate. One sister wanted to sell all the stock and distribute the cash. One sister wanted to distribute the shares, because the market is in the toilet. I don't know what the third sister wanted, but they decided to distribute shares.
There's really no difference, even if the market is so bad, because although it's a bad time to sell, it's also a good time to buy, so it doesn't make much difference to me. The one thing you don't want to do is sell and then just let the cash sit.
So anyway, I got the word that I'm to open an online brokerage account to receive my shares. I spent some time doing that today. (I don't like the brokerage they chose - I think their costs are too high, but I don't expect to be with them long.)
There's one thing that disturbs me about distributing shares. If the stock is sold and the proceeds distributed, then everyone gets the same. If, however, shares are distributed, there is a potential for inequity.
Depending on the history and future of the company, $1 worth of stock in company ABC can be of greater intrinsic value than $1 worth of stock in company XYZ. For example, there's a big difference between $1000 in Exxon (future recovery), and $1000 in Millennium Cell (possible bankruptcy).
I don't know how many different stocks they're looking at (having been ousted from the executor position I'm no longer privy to that information until the accounting), but I sent them a note suggesting that shares be distributed by count in any one company. Divide the number of shares by the number of portions, distribute to the parties proportionately, sell any remainder (a maximum of six shares in every case), and distribute the sales proceeds. That's fair, everybody gets exactly the same, and it heads off any later claims of inequity.
Mainly, I want to let them know that I will object to any division that leaves me with all the crap stocks, even if the current value is nominally the same. And I can't assume they already thought of that.
.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
1901 Yeah, Sure.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
There are a lot of public service spots on TV urging people to get tested for HIV. They assure people that it's simple, no big deal, and absolutely private.
Well, when Jay was scheduled for his first brain surgery, they wanted him tested for everything under the sun, including three different strains of HIV. Three. I didn't know that three different tests were required for a clean slate. When the results came back (after a week), the local lab had screwed up and tested for only two of the three, because they weren't equipped for the third but didn't see fit to tell us that up front, and we had to make a rush trip to Albany Medical Center to have the third redone on an urgent basis.
I was left with a question no one has answered. Three tests? Three strains? The surgeon said that the usual test is geared toward the most common strain, and does not detect other strains. So, um, does this mean that if a person tells you they've had a recent test and it was clean, that means only that he/she doesn't have the most common strain?
It also looks like the medical community is more concerned with protecting their own people than the general public. Did YOU know that there are multiple strains (perhaps more than three by now), and getting a clean test doesn't mean you're uninfected? Yeah. Didn't think you did.
And maybe it was simple, just drawing some blood, but it was not something we wanted to repeat, not at the local hospital lab, anyway, because of the way we were treated.
When we first went in, the woman behind the counter was pleasant and cheerful, "isn't it a nice day?", offered us juice, said she was able to take him right in, blah, blah. And then we handed her the prescription form.
She took one look, stopped smiling, and gave Jay a dirty look. Didn't bring the juice. She disappeared behind a door, and we overheard an argument over whose turn it was. Two more women stuck their heads around the corner of the door to take a look at us. She came back out, and was not merely short, she was downright nasty. Double gloves. "Sit here. Stick your arm out." Prod prod. "Other arm."
My big strong husband was afraid of needles, and his blood vessels tended to hide, and nurses who knew him knew to be patient and gentle, or he'd faint on them. She tortured him, and seemed to like it. It was a very bad experience. He was pale and shaking when we left.
I guess she judged him as a not-nice person, what with needing THREE strains of HIV tested for. She wouldn't have treated anyone like that who came in for a blood count or whatever, even if that person was more likely to actually have undiagnosed HIV. The prescription pad said "Bad and Dangerous" to her.
Where did you get your training, lady? ALL blood is dangerous.
She was highly unprofessional, and downright nasty, and I'd have liked to report her, except that we knew we'd have to go back for other tests (like Dilantin levels) in the future.
So, I can't understand why more people don't saunter in and get tested.... /sarcasm off/
.
There are a lot of public service spots on TV urging people to get tested for HIV. They assure people that it's simple, no big deal, and absolutely private.
Well, when Jay was scheduled for his first brain surgery, they wanted him tested for everything under the sun, including three different strains of HIV. Three. I didn't know that three different tests were required for a clean slate. When the results came back (after a week), the local lab had screwed up and tested for only two of the three, because they weren't equipped for the third but didn't see fit to tell us that up front, and we had to make a rush trip to Albany Medical Center to have the third redone on an urgent basis.
I was left with a question no one has answered. Three tests? Three strains? The surgeon said that the usual test is geared toward the most common strain, and does not detect other strains. So, um, does this mean that if a person tells you they've had a recent test and it was clean, that means only that he/she doesn't have the most common strain?
It also looks like the medical community is more concerned with protecting their own people than the general public. Did YOU know that there are multiple strains (perhaps more than three by now), and getting a clean test doesn't mean you're uninfected? Yeah. Didn't think you did.
And maybe it was simple, just drawing some blood, but it was not something we wanted to repeat, not at the local hospital lab, anyway, because of the way we were treated.
When we first went in, the woman behind the counter was pleasant and cheerful, "isn't it a nice day?", offered us juice, said she was able to take him right in, blah, blah. And then we handed her the prescription form.
She took one look, stopped smiling, and gave Jay a dirty look. Didn't bring the juice. She disappeared behind a door, and we overheard an argument over whose turn it was. Two more women stuck their heads around the corner of the door to take a look at us. She came back out, and was not merely short, she was downright nasty. Double gloves. "Sit here. Stick your arm out." Prod prod. "Other arm."
My big strong husband was afraid of needles, and his blood vessels tended to hide, and nurses who knew him knew to be patient and gentle, or he'd faint on them. She tortured him, and seemed to like it. It was a very bad experience. He was pale and shaking when we left.
I guess she judged him as a not-nice person, what with needing THREE strains of HIV tested for. She wouldn't have treated anyone like that who came in for a blood count or whatever, even if that person was more likely to actually have undiagnosed HIV. The prescription pad said "Bad and Dangerous" to her.
Where did you get your training, lady? ALL blood is dangerous.
She was highly unprofessional, and downright nasty, and I'd have liked to report her, except that we knew we'd have to go back for other tests (like Dilantin levels) in the future.
So, I can't understand why more people don't saunter in and get tested.... /sarcasm off/
.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
1900 Zapping Ivy
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
I bought Roundup today and zapped all the poison ivy I could find. And then I found more. I've got the small-leaved low-growing variety, and the medium-leaved bush variety, and the huge-leaved tree-climbing variety.
Back when the Hairless Hunk cleared all the vines off the trees in the side yard (Virginia Creeper, wild grape, and poison ivy), he just cut them at ground level. I told him then that I wanted the roots killed, so he should either spray them before cutting or cut and then paint the fresh cuts with turpentine or kerosene, because if you don't kill the roots, they'll come back even stronger. A young plant with a huge root system can grow very fast.
He didn't do either.
Sigh.
The small rather attractive "tree" in front of the tall tree is actually poison ivy growing up the tall tree, back before it got cut down. The bottom of the poison ivy leaves is about 7 feet above the ground. It's now growing back, and the individual leaves are about 10" long. It's laughing at me and my puny spray bottle of Roundup.
.
I bought Roundup today and zapped all the poison ivy I could find. And then I found more. I've got the small-leaved low-growing variety, and the medium-leaved bush variety, and the huge-leaved tree-climbing variety.
Back when the Hairless Hunk cleared all the vines off the trees in the side yard (Virginia Creeper, wild grape, and poison ivy), he just cut them at ground level. I told him then that I wanted the roots killed, so he should either spray them before cutting or cut and then paint the fresh cuts with turpentine or kerosene, because if you don't kill the roots, they'll come back even stronger. A young plant with a huge root system can grow very fast.
He didn't do either.
Sigh.
The small rather attractive "tree" in front of the tall tree is actually poison ivy growing up the tall tree, back before it got cut down. The bottom of the poison ivy leaves is about 7 feet above the ground. It's now growing back, and the individual leaves are about 10" long. It's laughing at me and my puny spray bottle of Roundup.
.
Monday, July 07, 2008
1899 Lesson Learned
Monday, July 7, 2008
When you're rushing to get out of the house, and you're going to see The Man, and you're in the shower, and you're shaving your legs and therefore have a razor in your hand, and you can feel some coarse hairs on your chin, but you don't think you have time to tweeze, DO NOT, under any circumstances, shrug and shave your chin.
Two days later, ingrown hairs.
Ick.
.
When you're rushing to get out of the house, and you're going to see The Man, and you're in the shower, and you're shaving your legs and therefore have a razor in your hand, and you can feel some coarse hairs on your chin, but you don't think you have time to tweeze, DO NOT, under any circumstances, shrug and shave your chin.
Two days later, ingrown hairs.
Ick.
.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
1898 Nothin'
Sunday, July 6, 2008
We went nowhere in particular, and we did nothing special, and it was good.
Now I'm tired and hungry.
.
We went nowhere in particular, and we did nothing special, and it was good.
Now I'm tired and hungry.
.
Friday, July 04, 2008
1897 The flowers are trying
Friday, July 4, 2008
That section where I had planted the wildflower seeds? Where I got all upset a few weeks ago when the guys MOWED! the sprouting flowers? The flowers are trying.
I could hardly believe my eyes this afternoon when I saw tiny California Poppies. The red blossoms are between a half inch and three-quarters of an inch wide, on stems perhaps three inches tall, covering the planted area. They should be two feet tall with palm-sized blossoms, but I'm sure they're poppies. Accidentally bonsai'd poppies, I guess. I recognize the leaves and flowers.
So I looked harder, and there are four more types of plants flowering, some yellow, two kinds of white, some blue. They're all so tiny it's hard to tell what they are, but I'm so proud of them anyway. They're really determined.
But, um, that was supposed to be a shade mix. Poppies?
.
That section where I had planted the wildflower seeds? Where I got all upset a few weeks ago when the guys MOWED! the sprouting flowers? The flowers are trying.
I could hardly believe my eyes this afternoon when I saw tiny California Poppies. The red blossoms are between a half inch and three-quarters of an inch wide, on stems perhaps three inches tall, covering the planted area. They should be two feet tall with palm-sized blossoms, but I'm sure they're poppies. Accidentally bonsai'd poppies, I guess. I recognize the leaves and flowers.
So I looked harder, and there are four more types of plants flowering, some yellow, two kinds of white, some blue. They're all so tiny it's hard to tell what they are, but I'm so proud of them anyway. They're really determined.
But, um, that was supposed to be a shade mix. Poppies?
.
1896 Oops
Friday, July 4, 2008
It's 73 degrees, still, sunny, and not too humid outside. Perfect for beating back the weeds.
I had three of those long-handled loppers. Now I seem to have none. I wonder if the guys who cleared the side yard "found" any.
Anyway, I was out there pulling up Virginia Creeper vines trailing through the front (laughingly-called) flower bed, grabbing handfulls of vine and leaning back at a 45 degree angle to pop pop pop them out of the ground, when I looked down and found that one of those vines had three leaves, not five.
Oops.
I've handled poison ivy before without reacting, but I've also heard that at some point your luck runs out. I washed. I abandoned the weeding. We'll see.
If I do get a rash, it won't be for a few days, but already I itch all over, even places that couldn't possibly have had contact. I do that. All I have to do is see a spider in my bedroom, or find a tick on the dog, and all night long I feel things walking on me.
-------------------------------
The Man is working today. He's got a contract with a foreign company that doesn't observe American holidays ("Ok", I shrug). I'll see him tomorrow.
How come I keep getting involved with guys who aren't available on holidays, let alone 3-day weekends? I've gotta fix that. Next time around. At least this guy I believe when he tells me where he is and what he's doing, unlike the last guy, who told me he was visiting his ailing parents all the time, but actually was spending weekends and holidays with his other girlfriend.
Of course, there's that tiny voice in the back of my head, whispering, "You don't really know. He may just be better at hiding things." I guess that's the problem with long distance relationships.
.
It's 73 degrees, still, sunny, and not too humid outside. Perfect for beating back the weeds.
I had three of those long-handled loppers. Now I seem to have none. I wonder if the guys who cleared the side yard "found" any.
Anyway, I was out there pulling up Virginia Creeper vines trailing through the front (laughingly-called) flower bed, grabbing handfulls of vine and leaning back at a 45 degree angle to pop pop pop them out of the ground, when I looked down and found that one of those vines had three leaves, not five.
Oops.
I've handled poison ivy before without reacting, but I've also heard that at some point your luck runs out. I washed. I abandoned the weeding. We'll see.
If I do get a rash, it won't be for a few days, but already I itch all over, even places that couldn't possibly have had contact. I do that. All I have to do is see a spider in my bedroom, or find a tick on the dog, and all night long I feel things walking on me.
-------------------------------
The Man is working today. He's got a contract with a foreign company that doesn't observe American holidays ("Ok", I shrug). I'll see him tomorrow.
How come I keep getting involved with guys who aren't available on holidays, let alone 3-day weekends? I've gotta fix that. Next time around. At least this guy I believe when he tells me where he is and what he's doing, unlike the last guy, who told me he was visiting his ailing parents all the time, but actually was spending weekends and holidays with his other girlfriend.
Of course, there's that tiny voice in the back of my head, whispering, "You don't really know. He may just be better at hiding things." I guess that's the problem with long distance relationships.
.
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