2592 The weekend

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Les Kamm, letter in the Mensa Bulletin: “Progress ... is not the result of individual accomplishments, but the product of a vast human consciousness that contains ... a perception of purpose, potential, and need. ...[The] contributions of any single person is not substance, but style.”

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The Albany restaurant for Friday night's dinner is associated with the place in Saugerties (Ric Orlando), but the food was much better. I started with calamari, and they were perfect. My entree was a daily special - pork loin on a bed of spinach and sweet potatoes. There were two pieces of meat, both as large as my hand and 1.5 inches thick. Ridiculous! Two more days of doggie bag. It was all very good.

The problem I have with the Saugerties New Home restaurant is that everything tastes the same. There's some herb or spice they put in everything, from pizza to green beans to onion soup. Yuck.

I thought it was rather expensive, though. My tab came to $45 before tax and tip. They could have given me half the food for 3/5 the price and I would have been happier.

Yesterday I went to Angie's house. She had a bunch of people over for a lobster feast. Her sister-in-law is from the Philippines, so there was a lot of Filipino yummies, too. I fell in love with something called Siopao (show-POW) - balls of soft sweet dough stuffed with shredded seasoned pork, steamed to plumpness.

After the feast, Angie and Nat wanted me to try the trampoline. Are you kidding? I've never been on a trampoline, so I'd have loved to try it, but not after overeating!

After Angie's I went to see "The Informant" in Albany. I'd read the WSJ law blog article on the story, and followed the links, and had heard the NPR interviews with the ADM exec and the FBI agents, so I was able to read into and fill in the blanks in the movie. So I thought it was pretty good. I don't know how satisfying it would be if one did not already know the details that aren't shown in the movie.

Movies seem short these days. Like there's so much of the story that has to be left out to keep the bread-and-circus crowd interested. God forbid they should run out of food before the movie is over.

This morning I took some old electronic devices to recycle - some old phones, dead printers, and so on. There was an 18-year-old under-desk IBM PC CPU, which I thought was heavy until I tried to lift the old VCR. It must have been the first model. Huge, deep, heavy! Had to be well over 50 pounds. It was on the top shelf in the den closet, and I managed to get it down, wrestled it to the door, opened and closed the front door with it supported on my thighs, started across the porch, and was pulled up short. The cord had been trailing behind me and the plug got stuck under the closed door.

Until then I'd been doing fine, but now I had to set it down to free the cord. Picking it up from the floor again was A Bad Thing.

I had planned to go to the gem and mineral show at the fairgrounds today, which was right next to where the county was collecting the old devices, but I got so sweaty and dusty clearing out the den, and I was getting warning shocks down my left leg from my overtaxed back, that I decided it would be better to go back home and soak in a hot bath.

I think I'll live.
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2591 Strange message

Friday, September 18, 2009

Charles Manning, letter in the Mensa Bulletin:
“Religious freedom means not only freedom to practice your religion,
but also freedom from being forced to practice someone else's.”

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I went to a news site, and this message popped up in a little window of its own:

"Window videoAdPlayer is already registered in the DOM! Make sure you use setDestroyOnClose() or destroyOnClose: true in the constructor "

Now just what the hell does that mean? I hope it wasn't really meant for me, because if so, I don't have the faintest idea what it wants me to do. And I sure hope somebody, somewhere, closed something....

Later edit, 9/20/09: A lot of people must be seeing this message, because a lot of people are ending up here through Google searches, so I'll pass on some additional information. I can't say for sure that the above message had anything to do with it, but within minutes of seeing it, my scanners and sniffers freaked out, reporting the presence of a trojan involving "VUNDO.gen.bp" (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vundo, very scary), "lovojefu", and "mozulavo". Because my faithful protectors prevented updates to the registry, the trojan was fairly easy to remove/disable.

If you saw the above message, you might want to scan your system, or restore from backup.

6/8/10 Edit: As you can see from the comments, people are getting this message now when they visit Salon.com. This time it appears to be innocent. The appearance of the message may or may not signal an attack; it may be just a bug in the code (probably Java). But keep in mind that any time an error message appears it's an indicator of sloppy code and inadequate testing, which is more likely to turn up in a trojan or virus. Don't be lulled into complacency. Scan just to be safe.
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2590 Blood and bother

Friday, September 18, 2009

Chronologically gifted - "old"

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

The blood draw today went pretty well. The phlebotomist met me at the door, and I said, "Bet you're not happy to see me." She responded, "Bet you're not happy to see me!"

When I took my jacket off and she saw the bruise from last week, she was super sympathetic and apologetic. "I knew you bruised, but wow, that's terrible!" I told her not to feel bad, this one is pretty good.

She decided to try the back of my hand instead of the arm. I said ok. I was a little apprehensive because on other occasions in hospitals, when they try to put an IV in my hand, the veins spasm and it feels like my hand is being held in a fire until it's removed. I can feel the flames licking. The worst is waking up after surgery with an IV that had been inserted while I was out cold, and waking to my hand on fire, and nobody will remove it.

Anyway, I was willing to try, this is different from an IV. She used the tiniest pediatric butterfly, and it felt like I'd been stung by a hornet at first, but then it was ok. It didn't hurt at all after the first sting, and she got everything she needed.

That vein is now all swollen, looks like a fat blue earthworm under the skin.

Tonight I'm going to dinner in Albany. The place is the New World Bistro. There's a "New World Home Cooking" locally, and I hoped and assumed they weren't related, because I don't like the food at NWHC, and although I've been there often with friends who do like it, I've learned to just get a salad.

Well, when I looked up the address in Albany, I realized with horror that I have eaten at the place once before, after a movie, and it seems like the same menu, and I had ordered an overpriced salad, and the house-made salad dressing was poisonous. I ate less than a third.

It's too late to cancel with a clear conscience. I wonder if they can ruin a hamburger.
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2589 Aging in classic hippie style?

Friday, September 18, 2009

Frank Pittman, MD: Infidelity isn't about whom you lie with.
It's whom you lie to.

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

The blood test today is to determine whether the thyroid supplement I've been taking for the past seven weeks is sufficient, or needs to be increased. That's got me thinking.

Jay had severe sleep apnea. In 1993 we got the CPAP machine, and he was finally able to sleep at night. The oxygen level in his brain also went up at night. This was supposed to be good. Five years later the brain tumor appeared. The doctors said there seemed to be an old injury in the area of the tumor (probably from a childhood fall he'd had from a table to a cement floor).

For many years I've wondered, if we had never raised his brain oxygen, would the tumor not have grown? Was the sleep apnea's depressed nighttime oxygen starving the injured area? Did the apnea cure feed the tumor?

When we get older it's normal for the thyroid to slow down. The thyroid controls metabolism, so when it slows down we slow down. It's not just whole body metabolism that's slowed - it's also individual cell metabolism.

So, is it possible that the slowing of the thyroid is a natural defense against aging and cancer?

I'm not sure I want to fix this too well.

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I took HomeGoods' Style Scope quiz to determine my decorating style. I think my results are pretty accurate (except that I don't care for symmetrical arrangements, I find them too tense, too confining). I like antiques, carved wood, Asian fabrics and brightly painted furniture. I like Victorian clutter. I like thinking about the "life" my antiques may have had before they came to me, the people they may have known, the places they've been, the hands that did the embroidery, carved the wood, wore down the corners. New is so sterile.

Silk, you are a Bohemian Classic

You have a refined sensibility and bring a sense of history and tradition into your decor. You appreciate how symmetrical arrangements and beautiful, well-crafted pieces create a solid foundation to a room. But you like to shake up this restraint with objects and accessories that express your personality and your love of other cultures. When traveling, you seek out unique objects that reflect what you love, and you use them in a sophisticated way. You want people to feel comfortable in your home, and cozy chairs, ethnic fabrics, unique pieces, and even a little touch of quirk or humor give your house a laid-back, Bohemian flair.
You value creativity. You are stylish and fun loving, and can be an inspiration to others. You have a natural sense of drama, and you know you have to be willing to take risks—whether with colors, finishes, furniture choices, or ideas—for your home to stand out. Your home can be happy and lively and the place all of your friends want to be.

.

2588 Changes

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Me: "One can be spiritual without being religious.
One can be religious without being spiritual.
They are two different things, with a casual, not causal, relationship."

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I've changed the title from "The Silken Touch" back to "I Don't Understand". That's what it used to be before I had to move the blog to a new URL, and Blogger wouldn't let me use the old title on a new URL. But "I Don't Understand" is available for use again, so --- I'm back!

The URL has not changed. Nobody has to do anything to any links.

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Every so often a blog I've been following goes private, and when I try to visit I get the message that one must contact the owner to be added to the list. Unfortunately, there's no way to contact the owner, since the profile goes private, too, and I never had an email address. Catch 22. So if you went private and you're wondering why I never petitioned to be invited, it's not from not wanting to. It's from not being able to.

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Attn. Sister: I was surprised to find a letter from Uncle Raymond, Mom's youngest brother, in today's mail. Aunt Peggy died August 21. She'd been sick for almost a year, and died rather unexpectedly while sitting on the couch. To quote Uncle Raymond, "I don't think she knew that she died." I smiled at that.

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I want to make it clear up front that I don't watch Tyra Banks. I was doing some other stuff and the TV in the kitchen happened to have her on when I walked in. She had a nutritionist on who said that to get rid of belly fat, you should eat protein at every meal, lots of berries and nuts, a little avacado and olive oil, and whole wheat pasta. Those items contain chemicals that change the way your body metabolizes fats and sugars.

Back when I lost the first 14 pounds rapidly, before the Nutrisystem (on which I have maintained the loss, but have not lost more), when I was eating what "felt" right, I had a cup of blueberries almost every day, and a bit of olive oil, and protein in some form almost every meal. Hmmmm. Sounds to me like it's true. Sounds to me like I should go back to that.

The past few weeks I've eaten out four or more times a week, and this past weekend with The Man I pigged out. Like BBQ ribs and sweet potatoes pigged out. I haven't weighed me in a long time because I was afraid to.

I stepped on the scale this morning, and wow, I haven't lost anything, but I haven't gained, either. I guess that's good.

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My joining Meetup groups has packed my calendar. I've got so much on there now that I'm double and triple scheduling, and actually having to make difficult choices. The weird part is that as I'm getting out more, other people have been extending more invitations. If I were paranoid, I'd think that I'm getting more invitations because they think I won't be able to accept.

Ha! I'll show them!
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2587 Multiple annoyances

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Terry Bisson, The Edge of the Universe:
“[Marriage is] about being together some of the time
and apart some of the time.
About entering and leaving together.
About being free to follow your own tastes yet always conscious that
there is a seat saved for you beside the other.”

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I feel 37, but I guess I really must be getting old. I'm turning into a curmudgeon, especially where the young'un's fashions are concerned.

Hair combed and glued into a pointed ridge on the top of a man's head makes him look like a dunce. And what's with that isolated bump on the top of young women's heads? And why do they dress like they should be standing on a street corner twirling a by-the-hour room key on a chain? That's not the way to get respect.

Not to mention overblown lips that flap.

The latest is that super-shiny lipstick. The stuff that looks like the lips are enameled, so shiny that they reflect light. Those lips do not look soft and kissable. They look hard and plastic. Just because some lab was able to create it doesn't mean you should wear it.

Plus the smoothness magnifies any tiny complexion defect on the rest of the face.

Yuck.

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The Man confirmed recently that a diagnosis of alcoholism can get you a handicap parking permit in New Jersey. I can't stop thinking about that. If you're sober, why do you need it? If you're too drunk to walk far, why are you driving?

I don't understand.

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I just got a call from the doctor's office. My CBC and glucose are fine, but the lab screwed up the thyroid test and I have to go in for more blood tomorrow.

The bruise from the last one (last Friday) is now 2.5" by 1.5", green with a purple center, and still hurts when I bend my arm, even though I kept pressure on it for a very long time. I am not happy.
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2586 The birds

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

A line on “Criminal Minds“, 09/09/09:
“Bad news stops you for a while, then you move on. Hope is paralyzing.”

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I forgot. There is one thing I want to write about, to keep for however long. It's about the birds on my front porch. It's very sad.

For the past five years or more, a pair of birds have been raising chicks on my porch lights. I looked them up in my bird book one year, but I've forgotten what they are. Very small round body, long narrow beak, a small crest on the top back of their heads.

The male always arrived first in the spring and staked out the porch. The female would arrive a bit later. They always built their first nest on top of the light to the left of the front door, and there were always four eggs. When that brood was all grown up in mid-summer, they'd build a second nest on the light to the right, and raise a second brood of four. Late summer and into the fall they'd take their vacation, bug hunting in the shrubs near the porch and sleeping on the wire intertwined hearts that hang from the porch ceiling,

This meant I couldn't use my porch lights all summer. I didn't want to cook the eggs or the chicks. I thought about wrapping wire or something around the lights to discourage them, but then decided I liked them there.

Last year, in late summer, I found the male fluttering desperately around a space between the house wall and the cement porch floor. He flew away when I got close, and I could hear chirping and scrabbling down in the crack. The female had somehow fallen in there, had gotten up behind the siding, and couldn't get out.

I tried to figure out how to help, but there was nothing I could do.

The chirping and scrabbling went on for perhaps two days, then it stopped.

The male sat on the intertwined hearts alone, and finally flew south.

This spring the male arrived early, and staked out the porch.

All summer he has been sitting alone on the intertwined hearts.

I cry a little every time I see him. He's out there right now, and tears are running down my face.
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2585 Blank page

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Chris Darden's Nanny: “You have to expect as much from yourself
as you do for yourself.”

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I had lunch with Piper today.

Duh. Staring at blank screen. I have no other thoughts, nothing happening.

Actually, I have many thoughts, I'm worried about a few things that are completely occupying my thoughts, but it's all up in the air right now, my mind is circling the landing field, and nothing else seems worth the effort until the wheels touch down and I find out where I am.
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2584 I am a sweetheart, literally.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Me: “I like my men occasionally childlike, but never childish.”

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Dextrose = sugar, sweet.
Cardia = heart.
Therefore dextrocardia = sweetheart, right?

Wrong.

Dextrocardia is a condition where the heart is on the right rather than the left, or reversed, sometimes mirror image. It sometimes also includes Kartagener’s Syndrome, where the cilia in various parts of the body, like the sinuses, respiratory system, ears, etc., are malformed and don't function correctly. There may also be malformation of the nasal sinuses, hyperemia of nasal mucosa (that means there's a lot of blood vessels there), and a tendency toward mucus accumulation in the lungs and sinuses. There's also a higher likelihood of asthma and frequent bronchitis in childhood, and congestive heart failure in maturity.

I discovered this by accident today. Know how you look something up on the internet, and it mentions something else so you look that up too, and pretty soon you're several streets over from where you started? That's how I ended up at dextrocardia.

Dextrocardia itself often has no symptoms, and often causes no problems - except that leads must be reversed for valid ECG results, and defibrillator paddles must be reversed for them to work. So it's important to know if you've got it. Maybe even medical bracelet important, since if you need a defibrillator you're not likely to be able to mention it to the emergency workers.

The Kartagener's, depending on its severity, causes all kinds of things like a heavy cough, rattling sounds in the lungs, deafness, sterility, sinus infections and difficulty draining, and other icky things.

Now, get this: My mother had asthma (or something diagnosed as asthma) as a child in the late 1920s, and died of congestive heart failure at 67ish. She had been told when she was young she had a congenital heart problem, but the details were fuzzy (as were all medical matters with my mother). In her late forties she started having hearing problems. She'd always had a heavy steady cough. She smoked, but not enough to account alone for a cough that frequent and heavy.

Add this: When I was 11 or 12 years old, I went though a battery of tests at the Ottawa Medical Center to figure out why I had a constant heavy cough, "loud" lungs, and serious bronchitis so often that it was almost constant. That was about 1956, so no CAT or MRI, just X-rays. The doctors told my mother that my heart was "reversed", that I had lungs 150% the size they should have been and the lower 1/4 of them were filled with fluid causing the bubbling sounds which didn't clear simply because I didn't breathe deeply enough because they were so large, and that my nasal sinuses produced a lot of mucus, and excessive post nasal drip was what caused the coughing.

Mom said the coughing was driving her crazy, could the sinuses be drained? So they referred me to another doctor, who explained to my mother that draining them involved a huge needle through the bones of my face, and it was very nasty and painful and would leave scars, and he didn't feel that it would help because the sinuses would just fill up again. Right in front of me, Mom said she didn't care, to just do it, because the coughing was driving her crazy. Luckily, he refused.

Throughout my youth I had frequent nose bleeds. I always assumed it was because I was beaten so often, and I have fragile capillaries**, and it just never healed. By the time I was 15 I had a hole clear through the septum. (The hole is huge now. I'm waiting for my nose to collapse.)

Since my early 20s I've noticed my right ear doesn't work as well as the left. I always assumed it was from shooting at the base rifle range in my teens without protection (I shot an "elephant gun" once, had to lie on my stomach to do it and the recoil kicked me back three feet, and I couldn't hear from that ear at all for a week, but the airmen thought it was a riot).

Until my mid-thirties I coughed every time I drew a deep breath. It disappeared during psychotherapy, and I assumed that it had become a defense mechanism - if I coughed I didn't have to answer questions, and after I found me I didn't need it any more. I still cough sometimes when my sinuses act up, and for a very long time after a cold.

My sinuses still give me some problems, I still have excessive post-nasal drip, and they do seem to be getting gradually worse, like this summer from all the dampness and mold, but I assumed that it was because of some bad sinus infections I'd had in the early 80s, that probably had scarred the drains.

So, now I wonder. Do I have Dextrocardia with mild Kartagener’s Syndrome? Or do I have a bad case of internetitis?

I've had maybe two chest x-rays in the past 50 years, the most recent in perhaps 2002, and nobody has said anything about a reversed heart, or even that it's on the wrong side, but is that something they would happen to notice if they weren't looking for it?

It's not like there's anything I'd want or need to DO about it, but given the ECG/defibrillator cautions, I probably should know. If I asked, would my doctor be annoyed and diagnose internetitis?

'Tis a puzzlement.

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**In the 1960s we siblings were diagnosed with a form of hemophilia that affects both sexes, but we were never told which of the several clotting factors was missing. (One brother and one sister has it more severely than the other three, but still not incapacitating.) I suspect that it's not hemophilia at all, but fragile capillaries.
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2583 End of the week Bits 2

Monday, September 14, 2009

Dean Koontz, in Mr. Murder:
We sense that life is a dark comedy
and maybe we can live with that.
However, because the whole thing is
written for the entertainment of the gods,
too many of the jokes go right over our heads.

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Saturday morning I drove to NJ to meet The Man at noon. He had changed his flight back from SC to get in early, so we could go to [undisclosed location, because I want it to be a surprise for him if we ever actually get there], but it was raining, and where I wanted to take him was 90% outside, so we didn't go. He'd slept badly the night before, in fear of missing the flight, so we napped instead, which was fun anyway, then went out for dinner.

Sunday we went to a rehearsal studio where he played drums for three hours. I expected to get a bit bored after the first hour, but I didn't. Damn, he's good! I took a few photos then realized my digital camera is also a video camera, so I recorded a few.

He had brought some recorded music to play to. He started out fairly simple because it had been a few decades since he'd played, and then got more complicated as he got into it. Even better, he sang along with the songs. This is The Brazen Heads, "Who's Yer Paddy". I'm kicking myself because I didn't record him playing and singing to this one. It was so much fun I was bouncing up and down and singing, too. (If you click on this to play it, don't forget to first stop the music in the pink box in the left column, if you haven't already.)

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jVc0c4XYs7A&NR=1]

I know he doesn't want his face on the internet - so, suitably obscured:

On the drive down Saturday morning, my car had been vibrating very badly. The alignment had gone completely. I couldn't go over 58 mph without fearing for the steering. I didn't want to drive the two hours home with it so shaky, so on his way to work this morning he led me to his mechanic, and went in with me.

We had a discussion this morning (well, ok, I sort of majorly flipped out and said some things that had been on my mind for a while - this is a problem I know I have - I tend to blurt without a plan), and I think he took it well for someone who avoids any kind of relationship talk. I just hope he still feels the same way after he's had a chance to think about it. Whatever happens, I guess I'll live. I absolutely don't want to give him up, I adore him!, but I can't continue on the current basis, either.
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2582 End of the week Bits 1

Monday, September 14, 2009

Epitaph: This is merely a temporary setback.

My own epitaph: Continued next page....

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I went to a movie in Albany Friday night, saw "9". It was pretty ok. A bit thin, but a nice diversion. It was steampunk! I made that comment to the group, and not one person knew what I meant. It's odd, but I am noticing a difference between all-Mensan groups and mixed groups. If I had said steampunk to a Mensan group, the topic would have taken off.

This was a new-to-me meetup group. I'm finding that I'm more likely to critique the attendees to myself than the movie. Not something I admire about me, but there it is. There was one woman who is apparently a regular, and who may cause me to avoid the group. She's very large, and she bought the mega-ginormous popcorn, which is enough to make me question her sanity, but then she made it worse. The (triple) butter must not have been distributed well enough for her, because throughout the movie she shook the bag violently.

The group chose to sit in the stadium section, which must be popular because it filled up quickly. The popcorn woman, who was sitting right next to me, put her jacket on the seat in front of her, and didn't move it even when that row filled up. The stadium seats are so steep that it was not necessary to do it to preserve her view. She also put her feet up on the back of that seat, which made me cringe. But that wasn't the worst. She seemed to think that every substanceless thought that crossed her mind was of the utmost interest to everyone within earshot, and she spoke in a high, piercing, carrying voice, loudly! My voice is low. She interrupted and overrode me over and over, until I gave up saying anything, for fear it would trigger another inane thought.

I can deal with idiots. I can ignore idiots. I can't deal with or ignore a loud pushy idiot with an overdeveloped sense of entitlement.

As Mark at "Shoebox" observes, “There are some extroverts that you just wish weren’t.”

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Instead of taking the Thruway home after the movie, I decided to take the back roads. It could have been a nice drive if it weren't for the people who don't dim their lights. About every fourth car on the windy hilly road blinded me with high beams.

I have to wonder if these are the same people who never (or always) use the caps key.

The careless blinding reminded me of a friend who once said that if he ever decided to commit suicide, he knew exactly how he'd do it. He'd speed on a back road, and run head-on into the first oncoming car that didn't dip their headlights. Suicide by high beam.

He figured that way, his death would be beneficial, ridding the world of someone who deserved it, who was flat-out asking for it.

So think of that next time you forget to lower your beams. That other car may be him, and he might have had a bad day.

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The RED DOT on the Chart shows where I fit on the political map.

Your PERSONAL issues Score is 50%.
Your ECONOMIC issues Score is 30%.

According to your answers, the political group that agrees with you most is...

CENTRISTS espouse a "middle ground" regarding government control of the economy and personal behavior. Depending on the issue, they sometimes favor government intervention and sometimes support individual freedom of choice.

Centrists pride themselves on keeping an open mind,

tend to oppose "political extremes," and emphasize what

they describe as "practical" solutions to problems.

[World's smallest political quiz.]

.

2581 More blood, well, actually, less

Friday, September 11, 2009

David Gerrold, “The Martian Child“: It's almost always dangerous
to be right too soon.

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Last night I went to dinner and bar trivia in Warwick. It was the paper trivia, not NTN. You play in teams, have a lot of time to think about the answer, and bet points on your confidence. It was awfully slow, but still fun. Our group had two tables of five people each. One team came in first, and the other came in last. I won't tell you which I was on.

This morning I drank over a quart of water between 8 and 9 am, and then went to the doctor's office for a blood draw. Today's appointment was originally for blood glucose, but when they put me on the thyroid supplement and said the thyroid (TSH) had to be checked in about six weeks, we just added the TSH to the sugar appointment.

I am so glad I asked when I sat down in the torture chair, "Glucose and thyroid, right?" The gal said no, just thyroid. She checked the book and confirmed just thyroid. I freaked slightly, insisted it was both. A nurse practitioner heard me explaining about the two appointments scheduled together, came in, and looked beyond the top page in the book. "Yeah, both. See, two separate orders."

I got stuck only once, but again it was pretty bad. She needed two tubes, but I shut down before she even filled the first one. She decided that rather than stick me again, she'd transfer some blood from the one tube into another. I asked why it's so hard, are my veins too deep, or pressure too low, or what? She said I just have tiny veins.

I tried an experiment. The tourniquet is supposed to slow down return of the arterial blood pumped to the hand, making it pool up in the vein. Hmmmm. It would seem that when I get stuck, I'm not pumping much blood into the hand. This is actually a good reaction, the body being able to slow down blood to an extremity can prevent bleeding to death if it's cut. So I tried concentrating on sending blood to that hand. "Warm. Warm. Make it warm. This "cut" is ok. There is no danger. Send blood down that arm."

It didn't help then, but 15 minutes after leaving the chair I was in the bank and looked at my right hand. It was pinker and plumper. The skin was less drawn. I held my hands to my cheeks and the right one was definitely much warmer.

Next time, I'll have to try warming my hands in the ladies' room sink and concentrating on flow to the hands BEFORE I go in.

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Tonight I'm going to the movies in Albany. We'll see "9". The organizer keeps changing things. Show time is 8 pm. Originally we were supposed to meet at the tables next to the ticket counter at 7:30. The theater is on the second floor of a large mall. A few days ago he changed to meet at the escalator (top or bottom?) at 7:15. Now he says to meet at the elevator (elevator? there's an elevator?) at 7. For an 8 pm show? I know where the escalator is, but elevator? Obviously there must be one, but where? And which floor will he be at? Ground floor, or the theater floor?

At this point I have reason to believe I'm smarter than the organizer. I'll go a little early. I'll find them. Or I'll just go alone.
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2580 Ack ack!

Thursday, September 10, 2009

LaVerne on Empty Nest:
“Those who help those who won't help themselves are stupid.”

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I opened a new quart bottle of Hot V8 about a half hour ago, and poured six ounces into a 12-ounce glass. When I went to put the bottle into the refrigerator, I set it right next to an already-open bottle I'd forgotten was there.

So I took the old one out, peered into it. It looked good, smelled ok, so I poured the remaining three ounces or so into the glass.

Then over the next 20 minutes I sipped at it --- until I got almost to the bottom, and noticed the lump resting on the bottom. A V8-colored fuzzy lump, about two inches across and an inch thick.

If I die this afternoon, it will be from moldy V8.

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

A few comments on Pres. Obama's health care speech last night.

He talked about how insurance companies would not be allowed to deny coverage for preexisting conditions, or to drop coverage during treatment of expensive conditions. Note that nothing was said about insurance companies not being allowed to raise premiums for preexisting or expensive conditions. If I can't afford the coverage, it may as well be denied or dropped, and private insurance companies are run for profit. Period. Their purpose is not to assist me. That's the one advantage of socialized medicine, the nonprofit aspect, but it's a big one.

Second, it was emphasized that illegal aliens would not be eligible for the insurance programs. That doesn't really say anything. Yeah, they can't apply for and get the insurance policy and id and so on, but if an illegal alien shows up at an emergency room with a life-threatening injury or serious illness (or any illness for that matter, or if it's a child, or a pregnant and delivering woman), does that mean he/she/it will be turned away? Doubtful. I'm not sure I'd want to live in a country that would turn them away. So who pays for the care? And isn't that a kind of insurance we all pay for, either through taxes or increased hospital costs? That's another advantage of socialized medicine. Nobody cares who you are, all humans are treated humanely.

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

I'll be going to dinner and bar trivia with some southern Orange county Mensans this evening.
.

2579 Disaster in Russia

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Jef Mallett: "An opinion should be the result of thought,
not a substitute for it."

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

Rather than attempt to net it out, I'll just copy from Boston.com:

"On August 17th, near Sayanogorsk in south central Russia, a catastrophic accident took place in the turbine and transformer rooms of the hydroelectric plant of the Sayano-Shushenskaya dam. The exact cause is still under investigation, but what is known so far is that a tremendous amount of water from the Yenisei River flooded the turbine room, causing at least one transformer explosion and extensive damage to all ten turbines, destroying at least three of them. 74 workers are known to have lost their lives in the accident, while one remains missing. Additionally, 40 tons of transformer oil were spilled into the river, killing an estimated 400 tons of trout in two fisheries. Investigators plan to release findings in two months, as Prime Minister Vladimir Putin called for a nationwide infrastructure inspection. (32 photos total)"

The link at the end of the paragraph will take you to the photos.

This is a huge human and ecological disaster, but until I got the alert for the photos today, I had been completely unaware of it.
.

2578 She does know how to smile!

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Alfred North Whitehead: "There are no whole truths;
all truths are half-truths.
It is trying to treat them as whole truths that plays the devil."

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

I just saw Julianna Margulies on tv, and she smiled! A bunch of times! In one hundred thirty-five episodes of ER, I swear I never saw her smile, not once, no matter what. I thought she didn't know how. Or maybe that "happy" or "amused" were not part of her acting repertoire.
.

2577 Temporarily shortened feeds

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Sir Richard Francis Burton: "The more I study religions
the more I am convinced that man never worshiped anything
but himself."

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

I have temporarily shortened the feeds. If you are reading this on (through?) a feed (as opposed to having had to go to the actual blog to read it) and you can see the whole post, I'd very much appreciate it if you would please go to the blog and leave a comment (anonymous is ok), and tell me what feeds aggregator or reader you are using (Bloglines, Google, etc.). I'm trying to figure out how that works.

Thank you for your assistance. When I get the info I need, I'll go back to full feeds.
.

2576 Bored

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Aldus Huxley (alleged): "An intellectual is a person who's found one thing
that's more interesting than sex."

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

I volunteered at the tourism booth at the Woodstock/New Paltz craft fair yesterday. They had a lot more materials, a better location, and REAL county maps this time. A lot more people stopped by, so even though I'd left my book in the car, I didn't miss it.

One woman asked me how to get to the Mohonk Mountain House. I pulled out one of the maps and showed her the route. Later I realized I'd sent her to the wrong place. I always go up the hairpin turns to the climbing cliffs, and walk to the hotel from there, a few miles of sometimes rough terrain. I should have sent her around the other side of the mountain to the main gates, where she could get a shuttle to the hotel. I felt really bad about that for a long time.

It annoys me that they include "Woodstock" in the advertising for the annual craft fair. It's on the county fair grounds, a few miles outside New Paltz. It's about 30 miles from Woodstock. They can't even claim that most of the exhibitors are from Woodstock. The vast majority are from out of state. I think they use the lure of Woodstock to draw city folk. I consider it false advertising. Bait and switch. I'll bet some people arrive expecting to walk along the Woodstock village streets, looking at all the artistry....

Nothing much else going on.

A nifty link: http://www.mentalfloss.com/, where knowledge junkies get their fix.
.

2575 Photos from the past

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Old Italian saying: If you’re standing with one foot in the past, and one foot in the future, you’re pissing on today.

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

Jay's sister sent me a large box of some of the photographs she found when cleaning out Jay's father's house. I went through them last night. A lot are from Jay's childhood. Some are of him and his ex-wife, and many are of him and me.

When I met him, in his middle thirties, he was a big man, 6'3", 240 pounds, with a very small round potbelly. Judging from these photos, he was always tall, and until his thirties, he was skinny. If it weren't for the dates on the back of the photos, I'd be unable to judge his age. There was also a boy scout uniform shirt in the box. I remember him telling me that he had been a cub scout, but was in the boy scouts for only a few years. The shirt fit me. I wear a 40" chest.

Many of the photos including me were a surprise in more ways than one. Half of them, I have no idea where they were taken. I can tell when by the date on the back, but unless they were in a known house, I have no idea where, or what the occasion was.

I had gained weight after we got married in 1994. During Jay's illness, starting in 1999, I lost a lot of weight and gained a lot of muscle. I looked great, and that's an objective opinion. Then after he died at the end of 2001, I gained a lot of weight. By 2005 I was the heaviest I'd ever been. I knew I was heavy then, because I couldn't find clothes to fit. What I didn't know was how I looked back before he got sick. It was about 10 pounds less than 2005's high, and looking at those photos, I can't believe I didn't know how bad I looked, or that I ever got even bigger.

I guess have a distorted body image. When I look in the mirror, I think I look fine, in the face and figure. But when I see photographs I'm shocked. My face is older than I realize, and my body is, um, wider. My weight has fluctuated wildly over the past fifteen years, a 50 pound difference between the highs and the lows, but except for right now, I never really realized when I was heavy.

I think perhaps I tend to see myself as my romantic interest sees me. Jay thought I looked fine back then. The Man, now, would prefer me a bit heavier, I think. Me, I want my spectacular thirties back.

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

A selection from the box.

Jay's father worked for Kodak, and took a lot of pictures. He viewed the world through a lens. A good portion of the box contents is his kids, frame after frame, pose after pose. He'd set Jay up with a toy - maybe a toy truck - on a side table, and obviously said "play with it", and then took picture after picture. Those kids must have spent some miserable afternoons.

He took a lot of pictures when he visited us, but I'd never seen any of them until this box arrived.

December 1954. Jay would have been 33 months old, and look how tall he is. The older sister would have been about ten years old.
1964. Jay at about 12 years old. The shirt he's wearing, that fits me, was also in the box.August 1984. This was right about the time I first met him.
October 1985. This house under construction. That's Jay, his ex-wife, and his mother on the deck. This is the back wall of the living room. The trees have grown up since, so that view is now available only in the winter when the leaves are gone.
October 1985. Construction, this house, no fireplace mantel yet. That's the dining room around the corner to the left, and I included this photo to show that there's more glass in the dining room. Master bedroom has more.
December 1987. Three years before he left the Ex. Seven years before we married. He's 35 in this shot, and look at all the white starting in his beard already. He and the Ex had been married about four years, and he was unhappy. They had been dating in Texas when he was transferred to NY, so they got married rather quickly. Within months he was sleeping in the guest bedroom, and she had pretty much set up a life separate from him. He had always wanted children. After they were married, she said she didn't want children. She was deliriously happy in the marriage. She was supported, nice house, handsome escort whenever she wanted to go out, major travel twice a year, and she didn't have to do anything in exchange. Before he left the office every day, he'd call her and she'd tell him what takeout to pick up. We, his friends, knew he was not happy, but we didn't know why.
------------------
You'll notice that from here on down, every time you see me, my hair is a different color. It isn't really. I didn't do anything to it. I considered it a dark reddish-brown, like in the 1995 photos, but what color it looks like in photos is rather random. It seems to depend on the lighting, and whether the light shines through it or on it, natural light or flash.
------------------

September 1994. The mini-Schnauzer belonged to Jay's father. That dog hated me. Bit me seriously three times over the next few years, and yet every time his father went to Europe on his annual trip, he insisted on leaving the dog with us. The blond dog, Baby, was left with us when Daughter went to college, and promptly fell madly in love with Jay. The gray Keeshund, Ninja, had a skin problem, so we had to keep him clipped. And here's a "heavy" photo. I look like a walking cracker box.
February 1995.
February 1995.
June 1995. Ninja and me. Jay's father would find a pose he liked, and then insist that everyone do it.
June 1995. Jay, same pose, with father's dog Robin. There are versions of various combinations of animals and people, but none of me with Robin. That dog hated me.
January 1996. Yes, I'm standing.
June 1998. Daughter's cat Scruffy, who also moved in with us when she went to college. Scruffy was a huge mellow Maine 'Coon cat, a Harley biker in a cat suit. I'm sorry his tail isn't in that picture. It was a huge fluffy raccoon tail. And look how light my hair is with the sun shining through it.
Later: When I checked the posting, the song that played was "Where Have All the Flowers Gone". Sniff.
.

2574 Oh, by the way ....

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Henry Ford: "You can't build a reputation on what you are going to do."

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

I ran into Vinnie and Piper in the village yesterday. Vinnie says the driver in the accident Tuesday walked away. No injuries. I still had the photos on my camera and showed Vinnie. Hard to believe, when you see the truck, the pole, the signs, the ditch.

The theory is that he was texting and went straight through the slight curve. I'd worried that it was a heart attack or something.
.

2573 Advertising education required

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Napoleon Bonaparte: “Never interrupt your enemy
when he is making a mistake.”

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

I browse real estate listings when I'm bored. I like looking at houses. There are some beautiful houses relatively cheap in upstate NY, but California is still grossly overpriced.

One thing I will never understand is why some homeowners or realtors take pictures that seem to show nothing more than the furniture. The furniture doesn't come with the house, so why?

Like this one:

What am I supposed to glean about the house from that photograph? I can't tell if it's a breakfast nook or dining room. It gives me no sense of the size or layout of the room or house, of light sources for the room. Nothing. All it tells me is that I hope it's part of an eat-in kitchen, because I don't care for that floor in a dining room. This photo would be appropriate only if one is selling the furniture. The house listing is here. If you go there, note that the living room photo is also furniture-oriented, leaving me wondering where and how large the windows are, and where doorways are.

2572 Flames

Friday, September 4, 2009

Jerald Bevens, in a letter to "Newsweek": “We need our heroes, but soon there will be no more. Our world will not grow men with the credentials necessary to survive scrutiny.”

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

Yesterday I had lunch with Piper and a blogger from NJ, who showed me some of her in-process needlework. She has a great sense of color. She and I then went to Olana, and toured the house, where there was also a great sense of color.

I am color-deprived and color-challenged.

I went clothing shopping locally this afternoon for the first time in ages. I happened to hit a sale, and bought eight tank tops for $24 (yeah, that's $3 each). At that price, I had to get one in every color.

After leaving the store, I was stopped at a light, and noticed a wisp of smoke rising from low shrubs in the median between the entrance and exit of a large grocery store. Within seconds there were flames, and in another few seconds it had spread and was shooting flames 10 feet high.

With as much rain we've had lately, I was surprised live greenery burned so fast.

When the light turned, I pulled into a restaurant parking lot across the street to call 911, but by then I could hear the sirens down the road, and I saw three store employees running across the parking lot with fire extinguishers, so I just sat and watched.

I am always amazed at the number of drivers who don't stop or pull over for emergency vehicles. One woman waiting to exit the lot just as the fire truck arrived actually pulled out when her light changed, right in front of the fire truck, making it wait to pull in until she was through the intersection.

Idiot.

This evening I'm going to dinner in Troy, with a bunch of strangers.
.

2571 Heading out

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Kenneth W. Sollitt: That which one man receives without working for,
another man works for without receiving.

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

I'm going to a movie in Albany tonight. "Adam". Asperger syndrome. Review here: http://movies.nytimes.com/2009/07/29/movies/29adam.html.

Should be interesting. Jay was an Aspie.
.

2570 The Baa-Studs

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Amy Tan, The Hundred Secret Senses:
"When there is great suffering, ... everyone suffers the same.
But when there is peace, no one wants to be the same.
The rich no longer share. The less rich envy and steal. ...
[E]veryone is seeking luxuries, pleasures...."

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

Extreme sheep herding:

http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1137883380?bctid=17075685001

-or-

http://video.telegraph.co.uk/services/player/bcpid1137883380?bctid=17075685001

Who in their right mind would have thought of this?
.

2569 Complications

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Marge Simpson: We can't afford to shop at any store that has a philosophy.

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

I was supposed to go to dinner and bar trivia in Albany tonight, but circumstances conspired to prevent it.

I had a few errands to run - take a box of rejected Nutrisystem food to UPS for return, bank to get cash, gas station to fill up, heating oil office to ask about the budget program for this winter, post office to pick up a box of photos of Jay that his sister sent, drop some papers off at Piper's office, grocery store, and a few other things.

While I was in Piper's office, several police cars screamed past heading up the road, followed by the fire department heavy rescue vehicle (that says it's an auto accident) and the ambulance. About an hour later I headed home, after filling the back seat of my car with about $50 worth of frozen food. I had just enough time to wash and dress and make it to Albany.

I found out where the accident was. On the corner of my street and the highway.

The highway and my street were closed. The flagman let me through to park at a farm stand just down from my street, where the car (and frozen food) sat for the next hour and a half. I walked down to check out the damage.

A truck had gone off the road at a slight curve (a VERY slight curve) and took out a telephone pole near the intersection. I mean TOOK OUT. Flat on the ground, cut right at the base. The pole happened to have a transformer, which had exploded. There were downed wires all over the place, and across the intersection.

The red vehicle in the following photo is a tow truck, pulling out the demolished vehicle. It's across the end of my street. You can't see the street until you're right on top of it, and it looks like we lost the "reduced speed" limit sign and the street sign, too, so this could be fun for a while. Note all the wires down, and the pole butt on the right.

By the time I got there, the police and fire department had left, and it was all electric company people, and they didn't know if there had been any injuries. I noticed that there were no skid marks on the road - the guy must have hit the pole at full speed. There was some confusion as to whether the transformer had exploded before or after the accident.

Cutting up the dead pole, and preparing to plant a new one (on the right, on the truck):

The truck that hit the pole:
I was a bit relieved to see so little damage to the windshield and roof of the cab - that bodes well for the driver - but was a bit amused to see all the damage to the rear of the truck. It looked like the pole "vaulted" over the cab, and then landed on the van section in the back, ripping off the roof and flattening the sides.

Of course when I was finally allowed through the intersection, I had no electricity at home for several hours. That also meant no water or land line phone.

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

I haven't mentioned the diet in a while. There's nothing to report. I'm still sitting at 12 pounds down, on less than 900 calories, over six meals a day. My tummy is a little smaller, and my waist is a little better defined, and my bras are emptying (whoa!), and my underpants are drooping, so something's happening. But not much. I still can't comfortably wear 2007's clothes.

As to the returned Nutrisystem food, as I explained to them, when someone orders certain selections on their first order, and then even fewer selections on their second order, it usually means they don't like! the stuff they didn't order, and especially didn't like the stuff they didn't REorder. So it is the height of stupidity to select the 28 bonus meals from items the customer has obviously already rejected! That isn't much of a bonus.
.

2568 The green quotes

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Lewis Grizzard: We ought to keep the rich as rich as possible,
because nobody poor was ever able to afford
to give anybody else a job.

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

A commenter has asked where I get the green quotes I've been including lately (which rarely have anything to do with the subject of the post, by the way).

I've been saving them for probably 40 years or more. Any time I'd hear or see or read something that strikes me as succinct, or oh-so-true, or makes me think, makes me wonder, I'd jot it down or tear it out, and tuck it away.

Sometimes I don't agree with the sentiment at all, but I still admire the way it was phrased, or the way it made me think. Into the box it went.

When computers came along, that was one of my first tasks - to gather up many years of scraps of paper, and put them all in one neat file.

Now I'm pulling them out, one at a time. Randomly.

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

I also get feeds from "Quotes of the Day", but I don't often use any of them. Most of them are too "New Yorker"ish for me to fully appreciate them. They often have a pretentiousness, a false sophistication, that annoys me. (Like "The New Yorker" itself. I can't appreciate a magazine with cartoons that aren't funny or are just too too sneeringly precious. Don't much care for abstract art, either. Or those who pretend to "interpret" it. Pardon my blue collar. I don't like quotes with undercurrents of sneer.)

Many "Quotes of the Day" that I do like I already have. I end up collecting maybe one a month or fewer from that source.

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

The particular quote that the commenter liked is a favorite of mine not as much for its content as its source.

I spent a week in 1980-ish at a retreat with Trudy Bell (editor for Scientific American magazine(1971-78), founding senior editor for Omni magazine (1978-79), a senior editor for IEEE Spectrum magazine (1983-97)), Isadore* Adler (worked in extraterrestrial geosciences, utilizing remote imaging from satellites, played a major role in the Mariner, Viking, and Voyager missions, consultant on the VLA project), and Isaac Asimov (who doesn’t already know Isaac? BTW - science fiction is a minor part of his CV.), and about 19 other people. We worked on a "project for the feds", between fun activities.

Isaac autographed a book for me, “To the top banana with the great pear.” The book is packed away in the basement at the moment, so I can’t check whether he spelled it “pear” or “pair”, but the meaning was unmistakable. That was my Dolly Parton phase, before Mae West moved in.

I got that quote straight from the horse's mouth.

[*I've also seen it spelled "Isidore". Not sure....]
.

2567 Life in Sand

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Jay, on surveys taken on college campuses:
College is not "real world". In fact,
you can't even see it from there.

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

This is Kseniya Simonova, who won with this performance on "Ukraine’s Got Talent", with her "Journey of Man" in sand and light. The video is about 10 minutes long, but it's worth every second. If you don't have time for it now, bookmark it and come back later. (Don't forget to turn the music off - pink box over there on the left.)

Clicking twice on the video or once on the link below it will take you to YouTube, where you'll find more of her work in the "related videos" on the right.


[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvXVkZysOrc]

(Did you think of fingerpaints?)
.

2566 Perfect Day!

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Jay: I may be wrong, but I am never in doubt.

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

The weather is absolutely perfect today! It rained before dawn (the perfect time for rain every day) so the road is still wet where it's shaded by trees. The sun is bright and warms your face or back. There's an occasional brief soft breeze. The sky is blue with a few puffy white clouds hanging in place. The temperature is 73 F.

I want to find a place where it's like this every day, all year. I'd give up almost all my possessions and live out of a suitcase to move there. Really.

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

Later edit - Asheville, NC. Even has mountains.
.

2565 Cold

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Those who think history repeats itself will be forced to relive it.

(Not what it seems.)
-----------------------------------

I could have taken stuff to the recycle center this morning. I didn't. I could go to the county fair today. I won't. I could go to an auction this evening. I shan't. Instead, I'm holed up here trying to keep warm.

It's cold out there! Low 60s. Right now it's above 70 in the house, but I think I may have to switch from A/C to heat by this evening. I figure what few warm days we'll have from now on can be handled by windows and the attic fan.

After spending Thursday at the hospital with FW, I did absolutely nothing yesterday, except clean out all the stuff that had arrived on the internet. I don't know why, but I didn't feel like doing anything else. It looks like today might be the same.

I've got medical insurance stuff to work on, and the father-in-law's estate is about to be settled, so I've got an 80-page report to review and then I have to call the attorney, and Daughter wants me to locate childhood photos for her, and I'm to the point where if I don't do laundry soon I'll have to buy more underwear, and, and, and .... I probably won't do any of it today.

You know, I think it's just because it's cold. I can't face losing summer.
.

2564 A Day in the Hospital

Friday, August 28, 2009

Me: Divorce is tortious, tortuous, and torturous.

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

FW had been having abdominal pain for several weeks, to the point where she was unable to work. She'd had all kinds of scans and tests, and nothing showed as the cause, so she was scheduled for exploratory laparoscopic surgery yesterday.

She needed a ride to the hospital, and since I am the only person she knows who doesn't work and who also has a car (even though I live a hair over an hour away), I was elected to take her in. I was grateful that she wasn't scheduled for one-a-them early hour arrivals.

We arrived at the hospital a little before noon. She was installed in a room, with a gown and an IV, and we waited about five hours before they finally wheeled her away. We'd have no idea whether she'd be staying the night until it was over, so I had to wait.

During the pre-surgery wait time, we talked a lot. We haven't really associated much in the past year or more, ever since I decided her mood swings were too much for me (and her vicious attacks when I didn't meet her expectations were poisoning me), and I withdrew. So there was a lot of ground to cover.

Naturally, she was worried, and they weren't allowing her any pain killers, so she was in pain. I was trying to think of non-lethal causes for the pain, like pinched nerves in the lower back and so on. Along the way, she mentioned that a few years ago she'd had an enormous (benign) tumor removed from an ovary, and I offered adhesions as the most likely possibility.

Yup. I should be a diagnostician. They freed the adhesions and released her at about 9 pm. She was still a bit weak (but no longer groggy) when I got her home. She has steep stairs in her house, and the only bathroom is upstairs, so we installed her upstairs with water, takeout Chinese, and phone, and orders not to attempt the stairs until morning.

I got home just before 11 pm. Called her this morning. She's fine.

Now I'm in a minor panic. I know she's going to want to renew the old ramming around we used to do, and I can't fall into that trap again, because she WILL turn on me again. The verbal attacks. I can't. This is the woman The Man laughingly refers to as my "psycho ex-girlfriend". I just can't.
.

2563 Yeah, ok.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Deepak Chopra, quoting a Vedic scholar: I am that; you are that;
this is that; that is all there is, and if you understand that,
you understand all.

I don't understand.

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

I'm in love again. The red flags are still flapping in the wind, and I don't care.

It took him six months to use the "L" word, so I gather he doesn't use it lightly. I mentioned to him last night that he'll say "I love you" easily on the phone or in an email, but he'd never yet said it to my face. So he did. And to my ear. And to the top of my head. And he signed this evening's email:

Love you, to your face,
[The Man]

Sigh.

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

Later: After filing this post, I went to the blog to ensure it got posted correctly, and as I was proofreading it, the music started up. It was Tracy Chapman's "Give Me One Reason".

Coincidence?
.

2562 Community gardens feed the community

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Isaac Asimov: Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.

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

Quick note. I'm meeting Piper for lunch on the riverside patio of the Rhinecliff Hotel, and then meeting The Man later this afternoon, so I need to get moving.

I caught the first few minutes of Martha Stewart before I changed the channel. She was talking about feeding your family from vegetable gardens - in your back yard (shot of her enormous garden), patio containers (shot of a lonely tomato plant surrounded by herbs), or a community garden (shot of fenced area with neat raised beds).

Ex#2 and I participated in a community garden effort when Daughter was a toddler and we lived near Gaithersburg, MD. We worked hard, preparing the soil, fertilizing, weeding, picking insects, and although our section was the most healthy and productive, we never got to eat anything from our plants. There were apparently others in the neighborhood who considered it a food bank, and everytime I went to check and hoped to gather, our produce had been stripped.

I don't see how a community garden, the type where each person has a plot and grows and picks their own choice of plants, can possibly work without a 24-hour armed guard, and checking of ids against plots.

When I lived in Highland, I briefly belonged to a garden co-op. Designated people tended the garden, and members could go and pick up a bag every week containing whatever was ready that week. That didn't work for Daughter and me, because it wasn't our choice of produce, and we could eat only so many turnips and pumpkins per week.

I'm trying this. Whether it look right or not will depend on Blogger's formatting, but here goes:
*´¨)
¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)
(¸.·´ (¸.·´ * Silk

Edit: Nah. Blogger removed some of the necessary blanks. Suggestions? What I need is a unprinted character in the bottom line to replace the blanks, or a different font that doesn't close up the spaces. ???

2561 Gramma did it right.

Monday, August 24, 2009

A girl has to have a life goal before she starts dating boys,
or boys become the goal.

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

Gramma was devoted to her shows: "Love of Life", "The Guiding Light", "As the World Turns", "The Edge of Night". All of her friends and family knew not to call her during the time they were on, because she would give you short shrift during a few of them, and flat out would not answer the phone during "Light" and one other, "Night", I think. And that was before answering machines.

I have exactly one show I watch during the daytime - the first half-hour of "The View", which is on at 11 am. How come everybody in the world always calls between 11 am and 11:30? It's uncanny.

My home phone will take a message, and if the caller doesn't leave a message, it will still tell me the calling number, and the name if available. So I don't have to answer. I can call back later. But I always do answer.

I'm not very bright.
.

2560 I'm hard.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Steve Wozniak, "Newsweek" 2/19/96: I read the papers
to find out who I am,
so I can be it.

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

I get annoyed when someone associated with TV dies, and then the show(s) do a long eulogy of some behind-the-scenes guy we may never even have heard of, complete with clips and testimonials.

I can understand their desire to do it, but hey, I didn't know the guy, and really don't care.

I mean, it's not like I enjoy going to random funerals.
.

2559 For consideration...

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Sophocles: Truly, to tell lies is not honorable.
But when the truth entails tremendous ruin,
to speak dishonorably is pardonable.

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

Some people think that government should be small, that big government is restrictive. Others see nothing wrong with big government. People rarely mention big business in that context.

I don't necessarily think big government is good, but consider that the only thing that can contain and restrain big business is big government. Without big government, big business becomes the government. Which do you trust more, and which do you trust least, with making decisions that affect your life?

Big business? Or big government?
.

2558 Cars, and men, and stuff

Sunday, August 23, 209

Me: Men don't fall in love with a person.
They fall in love with the way they feel
when they're with that person.

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I saw "Gran Torino" last night, in that totally sexy home theater in Valatie last night. The drive upriver was exciting again. It rained so hard at one point that I couldn't see the tail lights of the car four lengths ahead of me, and there was no place to pull off the road. Torrent.

There were four guys and me at the movie. They were more offended by some of the language used in the movie than I - or maybe it's that old chauvinistic problem, the language would have been fine with them had I, a female, not been there. Two of the guys couldn't believe that real street thugs talk that way. Heck, I don't know where they live, but ordinary high school kids talk like that these days (every third word starts with "f", that all-purpose adjective, adverb, verb, and interjection).

I highly recommend the movie, by the way.

The car wasn't really as big an issue in the movie as either the title or synopsis would imply, but on the drive home I was thinking about cars I have known.

Before he retired, my father bought a new car every three years or so, and always a Buick with all the options, like the one with "air ride", where when you turned the car on it actually rose into the air as the pillows in the shocks filled. Or the one with the electric eye on the dashboard (in the late '50s!) that sensed whether it was day or night, and automatically turned the headlights on if it was dark, and lowered them for oncoming cars. I guess it was handy, but it tended to overreact, and turned the lights on in garages, underpasses, and tunnels, or even if there were trees closed over the road. Lightning at night (as there was tonight, which is what made me think of it) made it go crazy clicking from high to low beams.

I also thought about my series of VW Karmann Ghias (coupe and convertible) in the mid 60s to mid 70s. Loved those cars. But a lot of my friends in those days were young and unsophisticated guys in their 20s, and they thought a motor in the rear was incredibly stupid. That was the days of long hoods covering huge mega-horsepower motors, and all real cars had two drive wheels, in the rear. Everybody knew if you put drive wheels in the front, you wouldn't be able to steer.

Their argument against the rear motor: "Where do you put a horse to a cart? In front! You don't put the horse behind the cart! That's stupid! The horse pulls the cart, doesn't push it! Yuk yuk yuk (slapping each other on the back - ha, good one!)"

I'd respond, "Where are your drive wheels? In the rear! Your car is pushed, not pulled. You don't even know where your horse IS!" Silence.

They thought I was too smart for my britches. (Eh. Maybe that's why they kept trying to get them off me. Had to exert dominance somehow....)
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2557 Discoveries, sort of

Saturday, August 22, 2009

From "Babylon Five": The future should come with a label,
"Some Assembly Required".

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I went to a movie in Albany last night. A very wet and windy thunderstorm had come through late in the afternoon, ending just before I headed upriver. Southern Columbia county had apparently been hit hard by the wind. There were trees down all over the place. County route 10 was technically closed. I turned onto route 10 before they got the signs up on the southern end, so I got to see the damage - five large trees down in five different spots, chainsaw crews working. I had to edge past branches and treetops in the road. On route 9G there were flagmen at one spot to direct traffic off the road around a huge downed tree.

In a deserted wooded stretch I went through a puddle in a dip in the road, and lost the power steering! That was scary, because it was a winding country road lined by ditches and trees, and I was moving at 55 mph. The steering came back quickly, but the battery indicator in the dashboard blinked for a while.

The movie was "District 9". It was pretty good for what it was, but I think they concentrated on the wrong story. I would have been more interested in how the story began - where did the aliens come from, how were they rescued, what led to their being confined in a compound, how did people learn to communicate?

If you saw it, please answer:
In those first 15 minutes, did you think of "The Office"?
Did MNU's tactics remind you of Blackwater?

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Herrad, at "Access Denied...", is finally getting fitted for a wheelchair, after having been confined to bed for one full year. "Fitted" is the keyword there. She lives in Amsterdam, and I can't help but contrast the support she's getting with what happened with Jay. They are measuring and adapting, forming and fitting, and she'll end up with (we hope) a chair that will be comfortable and supportive.

After Jay's third craniotomy, he had left side neglect, which is kind of like paralysis, but more. The left side of his body, of the entire world for that matter, simply didn't exist for him. Jay was 6'3" tall, and about 220 lbs, and he had no awareness of half his body. Proportionally, his legs did not account for his height - he had a very long torso. His shoulders were almost two feet wide. Sitting was difficult, because he didn't compensate for the weight of his left side, or the width of his shoulders. His bottom would slide forward in a seat, and he'd slump heavily to the left.

The reclining wheelchairs worked well for him in the hospital, because they supported the weight of his upper body, and prevented the forward slide. But reclining chairs were not available for home rental, at least not through the only medical equipment supplier available to us, a place in Kingston.

Whoever wrote the prescription for his chair must have noted that he was "a very large man", because the first chair delivered had a super wide seat. That was even worse for his slump. It was replaced by a regular chair, with flat seat and a low back, and that was it. Note that he couldn't shift his weight, change his bottom position, so this almost guaranteed pressure sores if he were to be in it long. The flat seat guaranteed a gradual forward slide, and he was too big and heavy for me to pull or push him back.

I called the suppliers, the insurance company, his doctors, everyone, and they all told me that was it, all we were getting. And, by the way, we had the best insurance coverage available. I suspect his diagnosis and prognosis factored in - there would be no custom chair for someone not expected to be able to use it for more than x weeks or months.

So I bought a gel seat cushion, well over $200 out of pocket. It worked, but it was thick, and raised him in the seat, which made the back even lower, and now he slumped backward as well as to the left. Tying him in with a sheet didn't work because with the low back, there was nothing to tie it to.

I finally took some super strong cardboard, and built a higher back with a "wing" on the left side. With pillows tucked in, this kept him upright and centered. The first time I took him to the hospital for a scan with this arrangement, the nurses had a fit. When he came back from the scan, the cardboard was gone. I had him in the wheelchair on the passenger side next to me in the front of the wheelchair van, and by the time we got home, he was leaning so badly his body was resting heavily on my right arm, making it very difficult to drive.

After that, whenever he had to go in for tests, I had to call a medical van service (not covered by insurance, by the way), and they took him in on a stretcher.

And this was in what "they" tell me is the country with the "best" medical care, and with the "best" insurance.

Sheesh.

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Two days last week I rebelled and substituted "bad" food for most of the Nutrisystem meals --- and lost two more pounds. I think I figured it out. Nutrisystem meals are loaded with salt, a lot more than I normally get. I think going off the salt resulted in a loss of water weight.
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