This weekend looks like another gift, and am going to try my darndest to not squander it.

Yesterday, late night working - but was on a roll. Managed to miss both the game (Sox won, of course - I can feel myself getting set up for another heartbreak.) and the debate. (No more of those - I get too upset listening. No matter how much content who I've decided is my preferred one has in his argument, the other will always be declared 'winner' - as if you can call someone a debate 'winner' - based sheerly on style points, and, I'm sorry to say, media partisanship.)

Nothing much in the cards for today, aside from a nice walk, maybe. Shelley, after massaging my lower back the other day, declared that I have no more tone in my buttocks. Doesn't surprise me, as I couldn't walk at all for two weeks, and barely until last week. I've a lot of work to do to put the pieces back together again.

Have been trying to keep faithful to the whole South Beach thing with mixed success. Today, was dying for french toast, though. Managed to come up with something beyond merely ersatz. Actually, I might like this better than french toast, come to think of it:

Sweet Omelet - serves one

2 eggs
dash of salt
1 1/2 T granulated sugar (I substituted a packet and a half of sweet and low_
1/2 t vanilla (I substituted 1/2 t rum flavoring)
1T butter (or Pam, I'm sure. I used Smart Balance)
(sprinkle of cinnamon, or nutmeg or both)
2T confectioners' sugar (I substituted another shake of cinnamon, a dash of granulated maple sugar and a dot of smart balance spread. I think that a wee smear of some sort of jelly would be good, too)

Combine the eggs, salt, granulated sugar, and vanilla and beat only long enough to blend. Put a 7-inch nonstick skillet over the heat. When the pan is hot, add the butter and as soon as it foams, tilt the pan so the butter coats the bottom. Pour in the eggs. Shake the pan forward and backward, pulling the eggs with a fork and letting the uncooked part run out to the edges, until the whole thing is creamy. Fold it in half and roll it out onto a warm plate. Sprinkle with confectioners' sugar.

I adapted this from a recipe in my Fannie Farmer cookbook - it was in the dessert section. Myself, I found it to be a wonderful not too sweet sweet tooth breakfast. Enjoy!

Why buy the slices when you can have the loaves for free?


This shot was taken after one of the races our organisation's informal running club participated in over the summer. When Pigs Fly bakery of York, Maine supplied the bread, which I'd say is some of the best artisanal stuff in New England.

Best of luck to Jo-Ann, Deb, Kelly and Nancy on that half-marathon they'll be running this weekend! 

When Hardanger is your Violon d'Ingrès


This little gem of a work in progress is a mountain scene. It's designed by Sue Lentz, and Tanya (you probably know her as one of my friends in the accounting division, but she's also a master needleworker.) is stitching it. I can't wait to see it when it's done.

That, by the way, is one of the major things that sustains me here at work - the people I work with both are extremely competent at their paid work and have rich lives outside of work. Though upper management is as upper management generally is, on the functional level, you couldn't ask for a better group of people. 

New Links

Finally got around to doing some house cleaning - and, boy howdy, was there a fair bit to do. If you look over at the sidebar, you'll notice a few new additions:

I've added several new links to people who you've probably heard me rave about before along with some others as well. Ann Althouse, Belmont Club, Captain's Quarters Blog and Bill Whittle of eject! eject! eject! are all there. I also included a link to Roger Simon's site - He, like Bill Whittle, is a former 'liberal' turned (would you call it neoconservative? reformed liberal?) after 9/11. If you're interested in the UN Oil-for-Food scandal, he's done some pretty in depth research on that.

For humor - I've (finally) added Scrappleface. It sort of reminds me of Satirewire, only oddly prescient. (Instapundit has a feature every now and again that he calls "Life Imitates Scrappleface.") As Day By Day is taking a breather (I hope things resolve themselves for the best for the writer - he's really nifty and I miss the cartoon) right now, I decided to add Cox and Forkum's cartoon blog. Pretty trenchant humor there. I like the artwork, too.

Also, you'll note some Iraqi blogs: Iraq the Model, which is the first one I fell in love with, is one family's account of life after Saddam. Do take a look at it-there's some powerfully persuasive writing there. Healing Iraq is by a dentist, I believe. Neurotic Iraqi Wife is a new (only a few weeks old) blog by a young Iraqi woman who works for a humanitarian agency in England and whose husband is back in Baghdad, working with the government. Wonderful stuff there.

I've added a link to Independent Women's Forum - a great site and resource for women who aren't into the 'identity politics' (among other things) of radical/classical feminism. Though they are often called 'conservative,' I think that they're more and truly liberal than any of the feminist groups of yore. Go take a look at their offerings.

How could I forget about...yarn sites! Knitty Dot Com has some hip, sexy, fun stuff - all free patterns - in addition to different articles on knitting as an art, technique, etc. Fun place! Lion Brand and Herrschner's Yarn Sale are two places I haunt looking for good yarn cheap.

Finally: you may notice that there are a couple ads in the upper right hand corner of the page. Why not go take a look at what they have to offer? I let Google put them there and what's displayed is generally topical stuff. I'm not looking to make a fortune or anything. That's what my current job in high finance is for. A little bit of pin money from an ad or two isn't unwelcome, though.

Oh.My.Goodness.

Best analysis I've seen yet of the first presidential debate. Best documentation of an ideological evolution I've ever seen. Please take a look at eject eject eject. "Deterrence" (pts I and II) is excellent. I'm only partway through "Strength-" will continue later. Showers, breakfast, cat feeding and commuting are all looming over me now.

Didn't feel much like posting anything yesterday - got a good night's sleep, wanted to enjoy the beautiful day out...a couple things struck me, however.

First is this image. Seeing this makes me forget that we're involved in an 'immoral' war on two fronts, and that our priority for women's rights should actually be here. Let's take Augusta, for example, since the NYT saw fit to carry a series on it in the last year or so. We won't be a truly civilized society until women can play golf next to men in major tournaments. Remember that.

Second, Ann Althouse has a couple of posts on the level of political discourse in Madison, WI. Glenn Reynolds has a round up the shooting up of the Bush/Cheney headquarters in Knoxville, along with a round up of other incidents and commentary.

I'm reminded of the National Post newspaper vending machines I saw all over Toronto that someone with a lot of time on their hands went through a fair bit of trouble vandalizing: every one of them that I saw (not just around the U Toronto campus, either) had a swastika painted on them and the word "National" blackened out and replaced with the word "Nazi." (National Post is the one slightly right of center paper in Canada. Mark Steyn used to write a column for it.) Horrendously insensitive? Unclear on the concept? Nazis were socialists, not 'conservatives.' They shut down newspapers, vandalized property and killed people who spoke out against them.

Storming campaign offices and driveby shootings are taking this all to another level, however. I read that these are seeming like a coordinated event all over the country (follow the links). Why isn't this getting more coverage? It depresses me, but none of it surprises me. And I don't know that this is not becoming more mainstream. I mean, I've spoken to people who you'd not expect to be 'extremist' in their beliefs who were outraged and disgusted that the Republicans were even holding a convention this year. It's like people have lost the ability to reason or something. Perhaps we need to look at how the Afghanis or the Iraqis are conducting themselves before their elections to see how we should be behaving.

It's supermarionation!

Get a load of this: a new Trey Parker and Matt Stone movie. This is what the Thunderbirds remake should have been, gosh darnit. 

Yawn, sigh.

...Elle vit apparaitre le matin. Elle se tût discrètement. (Lucky for you.)

A great and ornery country, indeed.

My standard response to people who bemoan the last four years under Bush is to ask them where 20 years with Kerry has gotten Massachusetts.

Insomnia.





How quickly is the world going to go to hell if Kerry's elected? How long is it going to take for my new aran yarn to get to me? Will I get it in time to knit it up into a sweater before Christmas? Boy, am I going to be in an awful state at work today. Speaking of which, I really need to find a new job...I don't know how much longer I can go on being a zombie in that place. Will the apples last another couple of days in the fridge? It's actually tougher to get them through the foodmill than I remember. Why can't I afford that duplex on Main Street? How long before Sharia courts would be permitted here if Kerry were elected? They have them in Canada now. Why'd I have that glass of wine with dinner? It's verboten on my diet. Will I ever get rid of my belly? Will I ever fit into my nice interview suit (or winter clothes) again? I don't want to have to buy new stuff. I have perfectly good clothes in my closet. What a waste. Why has my face been broken out since returning from Deer Isle? I don't want to have to wear a burkha. I want desperately to go back to school but can't afford to do both that and live here. I don't feel like leaving here either, gosh darnit. Will my knee heal properly? I get this hot, dry pain in it periodically and I still can't walk too much on it, much less run or hike. Gosh darnit - have to get it together to get doctor/PT appointments. Not to mention see the chiropractor; the back's bothering me again. (I'm sure it's the extra weight in the midsection.) I know I get a three day weekend this week - would it be so wrong to have an extra day tacked on? Probably. Sigh. Need to get a new pair of eyeglasses, too. Were all the people who said that Kerry "won" the debate listening to the same stuff I was? Heck, were they even listening at all? I don't watch the TV because I think the images distract from the content. We're not getting frost tonight, I hope. I still have a dozen or so tomatoes left on the vines. Need to clean out the flower beds for the season. Who can get me compost? I wonder if the orb weavers are still in the front? Their webs are still there. Huge spiders - almost as big as my cats. I'd sure hate to run into one while doing yard work. It's four o'clock. Hal gets up now, now that he's on the early morning shift. He wonders if his company isn't going to hell in a handbasket under the new ownership. I worry about him. Wish he was in a better place workwise. Selfwise. I wish I could help. Ech. Look at me. Mess. Should I get my hair trimmed? Cut short again? Should I just let it grow? Can I go back to sleep now? Please?

Could've knocked me over with a feather.

Really? No kidding. Hey folks: get a load of this. We've got some agricultural experts here telling us that the 'quiet, pastoral life' is stressful on farmers. Especially in the fall. No doubt it's tied in with getting enough leafpeeping time in, or something.

Gosh darnit, does my heart good to know that we've got great minds working on this as well as journalism to keep pace with such discoveries in the realm of the bleeding obvious.

Et voici mon grand coup. (Pristine, with the original dustcover, no less. 1961 edition. Granted, it's in English, but for crying out loud: it was one gosh darned dollar!) 

Go Roycrofters!


Look at what Hal found this weekend at the Medford Public Library book sale! (lower right hand corner slightly bumped, otherwise near perfect condition. For the cover alone, this is an amazing find - especially at $1. It being some sort of account of Hubbard's travels, it's bound to be a very entertaining read, as well.)  

Five movies this weekend...count'em.

Hal's discovered the AV department at the Somerville Library. If you could pick a theme for this weekend's picks, it would be Marilyn Monroe. Or (maybe, but, really stretching it here) "date films."

Let's Make Love: Ever wonder who Pepe LePew was caricaturing? Such a funny story, though not the best musical I'd ever seen. The cameos were super fun, though a bit odd in their 'shattering of the third wall' aspect.

River of No Return: Not the best story in the world, but the views of the Canadian Rockies, plus plenty of Marilyn and Robert Mitchum to look at made up for this. The theme song (sung at the beginning by Mitchum himself, I'm pretty certain, and later by Monroe) is haunting.

Niagara: Fun for the views of Niagara Fall, of course. Very very creepy, though, and quite a departure from the usual, lighter, happier ending sort of stuff I'm used to seeing Marilyn in. I distinctly remember seeing this in black and white as a kid.

I couldn't help but marvel at her costumes in these films. How on earth did they keep that chest reined in for some of the outfits she was wearing and actually being somewhat active in (corsets in "River," some incredibly slinky dresses in the other two)? I'd love to be clued in on this, as I have a very similar form, and, though it doesn't exactly pain me to not be able to wear a lot of the off the shoulder stuff that's been in fashion lately, would be nice if I could at least have the option of doing so.

Other films we saw:

Room at the Top: Romulus studio vehicle for Lawrence Harvey. Incredibly grim social commentary on a young lower-class man whose aspirations for the local factory owner's daughter and affair with the Older French Woman (Simone Signoret) wreak havoc on the town. This one actually gave me nightmares (& made Butterfield 8 seem hopeful).

Summertime: Beautiful visually, but dated David Lean film on an older spinster's dream trip to Venice. Katherine Hepburn engages in a whirlwind affair very young, very thin and very married Rossano Brazzi in this one. As I said - the theme isn't so shocking anymore, and we did find it a bit dull, but the visuals were glorious.

***

In my travels over the weekend, I picked up three films that I'm sure we'll be digging into soon:

Magnificent Trio (Michelle Yeoh, Anita Mui, Maggie Cheung): An amazingly dark, post apocalyptic action film about three superhero women. The fight scenes in this one are so graceful that you don't mind seeing the wires that hold the women up every now and again.

A River Runs Through It: Beautiful, tear-jerker of an adaptation of the Norman McLean novella. This is one of Brad Pitt's first roles. He's wonderful in it.

Some film by Werner Herzog that Hal found and we'd not heard of. It might have been Invincible, but I'm not sure, to be perfectly honest.

Break a leg?

During my wanderings this weekend I noted that a house I absolutely adore is up for sale. As property's absolutely extortionate, I know that I don't stand a snowball's chance in hell in getting funding for this place. I can indulge in wishful thinking, however. Ali at the quicky mart laughed at me when I bought a lottery ticket this morning (he's heard my theory on winnign the lottery many times. In detail.). He knew that either my boss and I were tired of the jobs, or I'd found a house that I was fond of. Those tend to be the only times I play the numbers game.

Today's Monday Morning Flower comes from South Park Conservatory in Lackawanna, NY (where we visited in July). I'm told that I have a copy of it myself somewhere on CD - but that this is a 'cleaned up' image. It is a sort of South American verbena, if I remember correctly. 

I need to look here more often:

One place I don't visit nearly enough is at Victor David Hanson's website.
Of particular interest is the series entitled "The Perfect Storm of Hating Bush" (three articles of a four part series).

(via LGF)

I've been taking to reading Ann Althouse's blog a fair bit recently. I appreciate her conversational style and the hodgepodge of subject matter on her site ("Politics and the aversion to politics, law and law school, high and low culture, and the way things look from Madison, Wisconsin.").

It appears, as well, that she's picked up on a few things that I had been thinking about, too. The "wrong way" had gotten to me particularly (though not so much as the 'fraudulent coalition' implication and the 'Bush misled the American People' statement) because, up to this point, I've not heard of any substantive alternatives from Kerry. He mentioned "wrong way" several times - mentioned that there was a four point plan on his website, and let it go with that. (I looked at the website - more talk on the 'failure' of the Bush Administration, of 'building coalitions' so that 'everyone shares the burden...more about regaining America's
'credibility' in the world. Oh, and the Arab Summit.)

Bush's strong point was definately to drive home Kerry's 'habit' of changing sides for political expediency. What did he say that I thought was particularly powerful? "You can change tactics as you need to - but to be constantly changing your core values sends mixed messages?" Also, the emphasis on sovereignty over international consensus (getting France/Germany's/the UN's permission to defend ourselves? Good for the remark on not allowing bin Laden dictate how we defend ourselves. Kerry's line on the invasion of Iraq causing an upsurge in recruits for Al Qaida seemed to be a shallow and naive one. There was plenty of hatred in the Arab world for the Big Scapegoat before 9/11.)

Misleading the American People? Good for Bush to cite several Kerry quotes about the need for action against Saddam. Also - and this is so tiresome and has been debunked *so many times,* - why bring up the WMD and "imminent threat" as having been the reasons for the invasion?

I've been reading lots of interpretations of Bush's evident emotion in this debate. My take on it is very similar to the Instawife's. (And apparently a lot of others', too.)

Well, I did listen to the debate last night - but I did not watch them. I had some serious business to attend to - the results of which turned out to be two dozen jars of beautiful, tangy tart, ruby red jelly. Everything jelled (though not too much) and all the lids sealed. Now, all that rests is the fruit pulp to be made into sauce or butter or both.

(Gave some to the roommate to taste - he agreed that *tart* is much better than way too sweet and mentioned that all that was lacking was a good loaf of sourdough bread.)

Anyway - it's prettymuch always been my habit to listen to the debates rather than watch them, as I really don't care much for the orchestrated movements on stage. I feel that without the visual performance going on, I can better concentrate on the actually content of the candidates' answers. So, what were the impressions that this particular spectacle left me with? Hmm.

***
(Gosh darnit all - I got kicked out of explorer without having saved my post. And I had a lot. Let's give you a beautiful screed by Lileks regarding this - essentially, he froths much more elegantly and eloquently than I do. You'll get more from me in dribs and drabs as it comes to mind.)

Craig took a mental health day off yesterday. Maybe he should do so more often! I came home to the wonderful scent of something Italian having been baked. When I entered the kitchen, I found a calzone waiting for me, along with a bottle of yellowtail (trink mich!) and a glass. How sorry I was that I'm currently abstaining from sugar, bread, wine. 

(image by Marcio Melo)

Speaking of Wild Women:

Big, Soviet Era Propaganda looking girl that I am, I found this post heartening:

I don't know why women think men want obedient women. What this guy wants is not submissiveness but resistance. A worthy sparring partner in the battle of life!

How many times have I been called mannish? Unladylike? Too many to name. I usesd to feel like I was in drag when I wear a dress. A fake. Gosh, I remember being told by an ex boyfriend that our relationship was the closest thing to a gay relatiionship that he could ever conceive of being in. Gosh darnit.

Self-acceptance is helpful. It is nice, though, when someone comes along who isn't intimidated or turned off by a girl who likes boy things, who isn't afraid to debate, who is taller than he is, who, gosh darnit, doesn't feel that Sex in the City is 'like, so totally' about her.

I wish the guy who posted this the best of luck in finding an equal (or maybe even a better...you never know).

I wish this guy the best of luck in his quest.

Awful tension headache this morning. Or is it allergies? I really can't tell anymore. My eyes are gummy, ich fuehle mich ein bisschen verschlucht...but my jaws are aching, my neck is stiff and my shoulders hurt. Is work causing me to start grinding my teeth again? Advil time. Seems to work better (and not bother the tum so much) if I take it with the morning caffeine dose.

On a good note, however, I did wake up with a very beautiful, raunchy, fun song in my head:

Caçada

Não conheço seu nome
ou paradeiro
Adivinho seu rastro e cheiro
Vou armado de dentes e coragem
Vou morder sua carne selvagem
Varo a noite sem cochilar, aflito
Amanheço imitando o seu grito
Me aproximo rondando a sua toca
E ao me ver você me provoca
Você canta a sua agonia louca
Água me borbulha na boca
Minha presa rugindo sua raça
Pernas se debatendo e o seu fervor
Hoje é o dia de graça
Hoje é o dia da caça
e do caçador

Eu me espicho no espaço
feito um gato
Pra pegar você, bicho do mato
Saciar a sua avidez mestiça
Que ao me ver se encolhe
e me atiça
Que num mesmo impulso
me expulsa e abraça
Nossas peles grudando de suor
Hoje é o dia de graça
Hoje é o dia da caça
e do caçador

De tocaia fico e espreitar a fera
Logo dou-lhe o bote certeiro
Já conheço seu dorso de gazela
Cavalo brabo montado em pelo
Dominante, não
se desembaraça
Ofegante, é dona do seu senhor
Hoje é o dia da graça
Hoje é o dia da caça
e do caçador

Hunting Trip

I don't know your name
or whereabouts
I guess your trail and smell
I set out armed with teeth and courage
I'm going to bite your savage flesh
I cross the night restless and troubled
And wake up imitating your cry
I get closer to your burrow
And when you see me you taunt me
You sing your crazy pain
Water bubbles in my mouth
My prisoner bellowing her race
Legs debating each other and her fervor
Today is the day of grace
Today is the day of the hunt
and the hunter

I stretch out in space
like a cat
To catch you, animal of the wild
To satisfy your half breed eagerness
Which, when it sees me, huddles
and provokes me
And in the same impulse
expels and embraces me
Our skins stick together with sweat
Today is the day of grace
Today is the day of the hunt
and the hunter

From an ambush I spy on the beast
Soon I'll strike an accurate blow
I already know your gazelle torso
Angry horse mounted bareback
Dominating, she doesn't
lose her inhibitions
Breathless, she is mistress of her master
Today is the day of grace
Today is the day of the hunt
and the hunter

-Chico Buarque

(Listening to it now as I write.)

Interesting bit of trivia on Buarque: his grandfather was the Brazilian "Webster" in that he conceived the first strictly Brazilian Portuguese dictionary.
Wordsmithing evidently ran in the family.

***

Oh my word! Would you believe that the headache's all but gone away now?
Amazing what a little rythmic music about encounters with wild women will do for you.

Another great idea from Karen:

Instead of Halloween candy this year, why not Halloween toys?
She brought in the latest Oriental Trading Company catalog (fun, cheap party favor junk in bulk!) and we spent some time doing the numbers. I'm pretty certain that I could set up the neighborhood kids with some nice, fun little goo gahs for about what it would cost to buy a bunch of candy at CVS. Maybe even for less. I'd have more fun picking the stuff out, too.

Now, to get a move on with the costume. (Remember last year's CD drive? Didn't have enough then, but most certainly do, now. I can either knit myself a wig from some violently colored Salvation Army acrylic yarn, or buy one for $5 from the Trading Company...go go boots are another matter entirely, though.)

I do think that this post that I found in this week's Carnival of the Vanities, though a bit screedy, sort of fits in with Oliver Kamm's critique from last week of the ENO's Don Giovanni.

No coherent message to impart? Just shock 'em, then.

I'm sure that under normal circumstances (meaning, I had a whole day to myself), I'd get the apple processing done in a day. The inability to stand for long periods of time, combined with a flurry of other things to get done and a double-sized harvest have protracted things a bit, though.

Monday night: picked through, cleaned and cut up the fruit. I do believe the malic acid may well have worn off my fingerprints!

Last night: made juice. I have quite a bit of that gorgeous, pectin-ey, sweet, pink stuff that is just aching gel. Also have a huge amount of fruit pulp left over. It's not so pretty, but has a great body to it. This year, I may well make apple butter instead of sauce. We'll see how we feel about it tonight.

Pablo came over with Boston Chicken and kept me company. He read from a book of Hawaiian myths he picked up on vacation. I've never heard any of these stories, so they are a treat to keep the mind occupied with. I've particularly enjoyed the stories of Kama Pua'a the Pig Child and Maui the trickster.

Also broke out and listened to the soundtrack to the film Genghis Blues. I'd forgotten how good the music was from this, and it's making me want to see the film again. Great story. Unfortunately, it came out at around the same time as Buena Vista Social Club, so did not get the exposure it deserved. It's a much better film, in my opinion (and the music is more interesting - not to say that the musicians in Buena Vista Social Club are slouches - no! Just personal preference.) I just think that Tuva isn't nearly as fashionable as Cuba, so not as much of a buzz over it. Guess it also helps to have a big studio budget, Ry Cooder as your tour guide, and Wim Wenders as your director.

Not at peace last night. Weather? Maybe. The driving rain woke me up at around four this morning. I tossed and turned a bit, lay there listening to the pitterpatter on the roof, windows, leaves, sidewalk, street. Finally, at around 5:30, said to myself 'to heck with it,' and got up. Two (big) cups of coffee and some seriously overdue email later, here I am. I think that I'll last till about noon ish, then will just keel over onto my keyboard. That's the thing about 'running numbers' for a living. It can be very calming in good circumstances. In others, sleep-inducing.

Over the past couple weeks, I've gotten some thoughtful commentary on a couple of my scribbles. I followed along the ID thread of one of them and found Something interesting. Do go take a look at it. There's a fair bit to what he has to say, and I get the feeling that, like with me and a whole lot of other people, he's struggling with the choices he'll have to make this upcoming November.

Got the word that my little brother is moving to Los Angeles in a couple weeks. I really enjoyed having him in the same state as me and was hoping he'd stay for a bit longer. A better job beckons, and all of this brings him and his wife closer to their desert, ocean with rideable waves and geodesic domes. He's going to be in Northampton for another week or so - if you see him (he works at the Army Surplus place on the main drag) - go say hi to him, buy him a cup of coffee. Wish him the best. He deserves it. Tell him his sister will miss him; she will. A lot. 

My Monday Morning Flower turned out to be a whole bouquet this week. Arija's garden was awash in blue this time around. 

I don't see how this past weekend could have been any prettier. Western Massachusetts, even as it becomes more and more commercial/gentrified/obviously a disneyland for the wealthy, is still beautiful in the fall.  

Understanding the Code

Generally, I just say that I'm a Bat Mitzvah short of being a neoconservative.

Tokyo Rose running for president?

I'll keep saying this: I speak French, my dad served in Vietnam, and you know what?

I still can't stand Kerry.

I've read Kerry's response to Allawi's speech at the UN the other day - calling him everything but a liar. I've read what Kerry's sister's been saying about allying one's self with the US - as a member of a 'fraudulent coalition.' Disgraceful.

A bit on 'Tubby' Riefenstahl's latest venture.

Now, before reacting by calling me a fascist, censoring thug, answer this: Isn't attempting to demoralize the troops considered treason?

Sigh

I never really had a 'crush' phase growing up - no movie stars, no musicians really ever did it for me. I liked a football player in high school for a bit, but grew out of it pretty fast.

Guess I was always just more into the AV guys.

What a lucky girl I am.

A rotten day at work faded away a bit on getting home. My emotional state and quality of life took a jump when I found Raphaella waiting for me with a plate covered in a big, blue linen napkin. "You're late again. This is too late to be having dinner, but go eat while the food's still warm."

Low carb whole wheat pasta covered with her homemade, from the garden sauce: tomatoes, a combination of hot and sweet peppers, bay leaf, basil, oregano...simmered all afternoon. This must have been put in the oven, as it was slightly dry and there was a fair bit of melted cheese over it.

I wanted to cry. Raphaella makes the best pasta sauce in the world. She's such a good cook. I have to learn some of these recipes direct from her.

After reading Oliver Kamm's review of this revival of Mozart's Don Giovanni, I got to thinking about something Hal said to me regarding a number of works we saw at an exhibition of local artists, in Provincetown, MA. So many of the artists had incorporated various body fluids/excretions into their works that he declared that the new 'subversive' media would eventually be acrylics, oils, watercolors, etc.

I've always been annoyed by two things here: First the use of shock to compensate for a lack of technic, creativity, originality. Secondly, the defense (which range from clueless to downright insulting) or excuses made for this sort of work by the groups that support it.

I have always considered art as not just to challenge the mind but elevate the spirit. Would I have made the decision to go to college rather than business/secretarial school without my La Musique to contemplate at the Albright Knox? Probably, but I do know that what I knew of Matisse and the Fauves had considerable impact on my tastes and the disciplines I did manage to get some formation in. I'd like to think, too, that that minx in blue holding the guitar is a model for my personality and comportment to a certain extent. Heaven help me if they'd ever decided to replace this work with something like Serrano's Piss Christ.

When groups claim (like the ENO) that they are trying to move away from the 'stuffy, middle class, boring' image of certain artforms (in this case opera), that they are trying to make these forms 'more accessible' to people, I wonder first, who has the image of opera of being stuffy and boring? Perhaps the people in the organisation making these statements? I also find it incredibly insulting, this notion that the art needs to be dumbed down with sex, scatology, drugs, whatever to the level of the philistines that they are trying to get to fill the concert hall. I wonder if they have any idea as to how detrimental all of this is to their cause.

Raphaella was by the other day to tell me that the Lupus Foundation of MA's annual walk around the Charles is this coming Friday. Lupus is an autoimmune disorder, like rheumatoid arthritis, and chances are, you know someone who has it. If you're free on Sunday, why not go take a walk with them. If you can't make that - you can always send a donation via the website.

As Raphaella put it: 'If you give something, I'll be happy. If not, well, I'll be sad, but I'll get over it.'

Just a couple posts on "Rathergate" - in no particular order.
(Am wondering how long it will take for the DNC folks to a.) deny any importance b.) blame Karl Rove for all this.)

What Have Blogs Wrought? - Jonathan Last in the Weekly Standard

Armchair Critic's take on the now (in)famous defense the documents.

For those of you worried about the Swift Boat Veterans's 'smears' against Kerry:

a gallery of "Bush = Hitler" allusions, complete with screen shots.

And you still can't figure out why I'm saying that it's not so much a question of wanting Bush to win, perhaps as believing with all my heart that the Democrats need to lose a heck of a lot more than the Republicans at this point?

Films this weekend?

The Lady from Shanghai
Smiles of a Summer Night
A Midsummernight's Sex Comedy

All the making of tidbits from the second DVD of the Master and Commander
box set.

Got very little knitting done, as the films were so engrossing.

I found the visuals in Lady from Shanghai particularly breathtaking, and Frank O'Hara's monologue on the shark frenzy to be both funny as all get out and horrifying. Maybe it was the claustrophobia, the sense of strangulation despite the airiness and sun-drenched scenes, perhaps the theme of a voyage that made me recall and really get the urge to see Night of the Hunter again.

What can I say of Bergman's comedy born of misery Smiles of a Summer Night except that it was a gem? There was just a wonderful balance in this - between comedy and darkness, young love and more mature, realist relationships. Spare, but important soundtrack, a wonderful theatricality (verymuch a comedy of manners in the style of Molière), and a sort of drunkenness brought about by the midnight sun. Goodness, I want to be Eva Dahlbeck when I grow up. If I grow up.

Midsummernight's Sex Comedy was great Woody Allen in an uncommon bucolic setting. Its inspiration came from the Bergman film, but, though lovely - I thought it a fair bit too disorganized, contemporary despite its late victorian era costuming.

Master and Commander? Well, seeing the making of materials further confirmed to me what an amazing piece of work this film is. I can't wait to get into it again. I wish it were possible to see it on the big screen again, gosh darnit.

Comfort me with apples...

Did the annual pilgrimage to my two little crabapple trees over on McGrath. Since we were about a month earlier than we were last year, I could have easily collected twice what I did, just didn't want to overdo things. There's only so much jelly/butter/sauce a girl needs.

A number of passersby stopped and asked us what we were doing, what we were picking. I explained that though the fruit from these trees was no good raw; that in fact, you could get sick on it. If one cooked the apples in a decent amount in sugar, however, it was delicious. I wonder if there will be competition next year?

In my pantry sits a Vinfen toteful of happy apples that will need to be washed, stemmed, quartered. Somehow this week, they'll be rendered into juice, cooked into jelly, run through a foodmill, and then spiced into applesauce. It's a fair bit of work, but very easy and pleasant (to me, anyway).

Simple Tart Apple Jelly

Wash, cut off stems and blossom ends, then quarter apples.
Place in a pan with enough water to reach top of fruit.
Cook, uncovered until fruit is soft. Put the juice through a jelly bag (2-3 layers of cheesecloth). Cook juice with 3/4 to 1 cup sugar until reaching jelly stage. Pour into hot, sterilized jars. *Don't cook more than four cups at a time.*

Not the typical New England Apple Picking Experience. If the guy who honked and yelled "Hey, whaddya pickin'? I WANT SOME!" is reading this - Sure! Come on over. I've got plenty. You've just got to help clean them. 

Some of those feral Mystic River beauties 

My Monday Morning Flower


We have our issues, we do. But one thing that he knows about me is that I'm definately not a 'dozen red roses' type of girl. Enough? Of course not. It is something, though.  

Along with my calcium chews, glucosamine tablets and stylish new knee brace, I picked up a copy of Glamour magazine. It was probably the combination of the long line at the CVS, along with the tiredness and generally feeling of going to seed that allowed the insecure girl in me to think that the list format on the magazine cover would make me pretty and thin and happy or something. Ashley Judd on the cover(did you know that she's an Activist? Golly, I can consume her product without guilt knowing that She Stands For Causes.) wearing a pretty purple dress that I'd never have the body for (ever) may have played a role in convincing me as well.

Far from being ashamed for having wasted my $3.00 on this bit of gloss, I think that I am much happier for having picked it up. Now I have first hand knowledge of just how lame, shallow and silly it is, and when I warn folks off of it, I can do it with confidence. I wonder how long before it follows in the footsteps of Mademoiselle?

Slowly but surely that knee's getting better.
Picked up a new knee brace yesterday - something a bit less bulky, obtrusive, less like the torture device I've been having to wear for the last couple weeks.

On Thursday, I get to visit my doctor to see what he has to say about matters.

I'm sure that I'll be out and about, hiking and running (training for that marathon?) in no time.

Question of the day:

Do I:

a.) walk out?
b.) say something unpleasant, leave, don't come back tomorrow?
c.) cry?

James Lileks got canvassed last night by another DNC volunteer:

Had another DNC canvasser the other night. Very young. She read from a piece of paper. She wanted my help to defeat Bush, and said that with only 55 days until the election it was clear that the Republicans would stop at nothing and we are out tonight to (squint, doublecheck word) encourage your support. Then she handed the board for me to sign.

“Why?” I asked.

She stared at me. “Tell me why I should vote for John Kerry,” I said.

“I’m - new at this? And I –“ she looked over her shoulder for the other canvasser. “I had some paper, but I gave it away.”

“Tell me what you believe,” I said. “Tell me what you feel in your head and heart about John Kerry.”

Whereupon she said that the War in Iraq was wrong and was “killing all those innocent soldiers,” and someone the other day said that if we didn’t elect him Bush would have another 9/11, but she didn’t know who said it.

“But tell me why I should vote for John Kerry,” I said. Gently, mind you. With a smile.

“I don’t know,” she said.

I said I would think about it; I thanked her for her time and closed the door.

***

Myself, I've yet to hear any convincing argument for Kerry. I've asked, too. Believe me, I have. If you can just give me a good reason or series of reasons why I should vote for him, I will take what you have to say under honest consideration. And I'm not talking "Republicans are Evil Money Grubbers who work for Big Oil." Or "Bush Lied, People Died." You claim to be so much more nuanced, intelligent, educated, better than the opposition - you can come up with better arguments. I want to hear them.

Clarification, please?

What sort of rhetorical device is the term wingnut?

Another morning commute in Somerville:

Union Square in front of the former Asian American Bank and Trust: a loud series of honks. I note that there is a van pulled over on the side of the road and a station wagon behind it, honking away. The driver of the van gets out of his car yelling, "You know me? YOU KNOW ME? Is there SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY CAR? What's WRONG with MY CAR? HUH? You got a beef with me? You think you know me?" Walks over to the station wagon, whose owner is still laying on the horn. "You got a beef with me? You think you know me? I'm Sean. Did you hear that? I'm. Sean. Now you know me. What the f#@! is the matter with my car? What the f#@! is the matter with my car?"

I just walk by, not turning around: Nothing to look at. Nothing to see. Mind my own business. Move along.

Instapundit has a great post here on a climate of fear regarding expressing one's political beliefs in America. The second post he links to is wonderful - I really admire this one woman's openness given her background and where she's from. Given where I'm from and what realm I work in (Cambridge/Somerville, work in not for profit), I've learned that it's just easier to keep my mouth shut rather than try to express myself to people who not only will not listen to me, but who seem to think that a valid rhetorical device is to call someone with a differing point of view 'Nazi' or 'Fascist.'

Okay, don't tell anyone, but I walked to work today. The weather's too nice out, I'm fatigued from lack of exercise, I'm sick of the cane, I'm sick of long skirts. (I have such nice legs, darn it...and there are only a few more weeks left to wear the short skirts.) Happily, the knee didn't pull or burn or get loose. It managed pretty well, in fact.

Maybe I'll go out looking for either a flesh colored bandage or a smaller brace later on. This silly blue/black leg-length thing matches with nothing I own and I'm sick of the bondage fetish jokes.

This weekend's numbers:

13 - jars of marmalade I put up this weekend
2 - films during which I got to sit back and enjoy a taste other than English
(Goodbye Lenin! and Jet Lag)
2 - pretty new skeins of yarn I bought (both from the Classic Elite factory
store in Lowell, MA)
3 - other knitters I got caught up in 'knitting porn' with
10 - ripe tomatoes I picked off my plants tonight
11 - herbs included in the bouquet garni I picked today (parsley, dill,
chive, mint, basil, oregano, thyme, anise, tarragon, rosemary)
1 - scarf made
2 - more weeks I have to wear this blessed leg brace
12 - hours until I have to be at work

That's it for tonight. I'm wiped out.

Every day is a gift. Even today.

I'm not going to go on at all about 9/11 anymore right now. There are other people who are far more eloquent than I memorializing - please take a look at what they have to say.

What am I going to do today? Go out and enjoy the sunshine, the cool, breezy, almost mid-september day. (9/11/01 was a gorgeous day, I remember that. I recall going outside to get some air that morning, marvelling at the nearly cloudless sky, and then almost passing out.) This is one of my favorite times of year, and those bastards who sucker punched us then are not going to take that away.

If my leg is up to taking me there, I may try to catch some of the Sts. Cosmas and Damian festival in East Cambridge.

I'd also like to hit the Salvation Army in order to find a vase for a birthday gift (a literal bouquet garni for a friend who's an avocational chef), as well as to see if I might have as good luck clothes-wise as I did last weekend.

Of course, there will be a knitting project to complete, beautiful mossy green marmalade to gaze at (I have 13 jars of the gorgeous stuff stacked on my counter.), dessert-making for a barbecue tomorrow, and a choice of two films for tonight's feature. (Buñuel's Obscure Object of Desire or Bergman's Seventh Seal.)

Best wishes to you all on this gift of a day. I wish you either mindful enjoyment or a bit of ease from the pain if you lost someone near to you.

To Brooklyn Bridge

How many dawns, chill from his rippling rest
The seagull's wings shall dip and pivot him,
Shedding white rings of tumult, building high
Over the chained bay waters Liberty--

Then, with inviolate curve, forsake our eyes
As apparitional as sails that cross
Some page of figures to be filed away;
--Till elevators drop us from our day . . .

I think of cinemas, panoramic sleights
With multitudes bent toward some flashing scene
Never disclosed, but hastened to again,
Foretold to other eyes on the same screen;

And Thee, across the harbor, silver-paced
As though the sun took step of thee, yet left
Some motion ever unspent in thy stride,--
Implicitly thy freedom staying thee!

Out of some subway scuttle, cell or loft
A bedlamite speeds to thy parapets,
Tilting there momently, shrill shirt ballooning,
A jest falls from the speechless caravan.

Down Wall, from girder into street noon leaks,
A rip-tooth of the sky's acetylene;
All afternoon the cloud-flown derricks turn . . .
Thy cables breathe the North Atlantic still.

And obscure as that heaven of the Jews,
Thy guerdon . . . Accolade thou dost bestow
Of anonymity time cannot raise:
Vibrant reprieve and pardon thou dost show.

O harp and altar, of the fury fused,
(How could mere toil align thy choiring strings!)
Terrific threshold of the prophet's pledge,
Prayer of pariah, and the lover's cry,--

Again the traffic lights that skim thy swift
Unfractioned idiom, immaculate sigh of stars,
Beading thy path--condense eternity:
And we have seen night lifted in thine arms.

Under thy shadow by the piers I waited;
Only in darkness is thy shadow clear.
The City's fiery parcels all undone,
Already snow submerges an iron year . . .

O Sleepless as the river under thee,
Vaulting the sea, the prairies' dreaming sod,
Unto us lowliest sometime sweep, descend
And of the curveship lend a myth to God.

-Harte Crane

Image by Bernhard Klingenberg

He's probably best known for his brutally honest (straight speaking enough to be called racist and zionist, of course) reporting on the middle east. Take a look, though, when he writes on things pertinent to his livelihood.

Also, check out the folks at Powerline, who've been in the news a fair bit, and Hugh Hewitt's site. Apparently, he had expert witnesses on his radio show last night - and he had no problems revealing their names.

Plus, much more on Instapundit and a Bleat on the 'creative destruction' of Old Media.

Update: As a correspondent has pointed out, an alternative viewpoint on this issue can be found over at Daily Kos. (Charles Johnson's response can be found here.)

For more from Johnson on this subject, just keep scrolling. (I think that has a post giving credit where credit's due to Atrios.)

Hey Blog!





Happy Birthday!

I remember this time last year feeling pretty down and out over how we'd seemed to forget so quickly (or even had started denying the existence of) 9/11. My starting this journal then was a way of exorcising the demons of frustration and anger at the petty bickering that's taken the place of debate right now.

Today, we are still at war and we will be for a long time to come. Though I'm not sure how I feel about all the current administration's moves either domestically or internationally (yes, dissent in the form of raising intelligent questions and offering viable alternatives is patriotic. Lying, smearing, slinging mud and stifling debate are thuggish), I have a heck of a lot more confidence in them than in any of the opposition at this point. This little outpost has been a wonderful place for me to collect my thoughts as well as sort out what I've been seeing and hearing.

Hopefully my experience here will continue to be the 'kid in a candy store' one. I'm looking forward to continuing the writing exercise as well as meeting folks who don't mind helping out a girl who's not so knowledgable about things, but who wants to learn.

Some things that caught my attention today in the news:

What Motivates the Angry Left? by Alan Bromley in today's Opinion Journal.

Instapundit has tons on what looks like yet another big media scandal - this time, Bush National Guard documents that are looking more and more like forgeries. For those of you into forensic typography (no, they did not have Microsoft Word back in 1973. Come on!), there's lots to chew on.

Oliver Kamm going to town yet again on Noam Chomsky's particular means of distorting history and context. Again, please take a look at more of what Kamm has to say this week. He is on a roll and all of it's excellent - from media bias to the old antisemitism vs antizionism trope to an article on current Tory leadership troubles.

Belmont Club has an amazing week as well. I think that this article on the moral vacuum of the Left and what it could be filled with. This one actually complements Bromley's article above, and a good amount of what I've seen on Mark Steyn's site this week.

Finally, please take a look at the latest article up on Independent Women's Forum regarding a 'feminist' state of emergency.

Knitting?

Well, just have to sew up the spicy striped sweater and have just about finished the body of the big, olive green rollneck pullover. Moving right along!

A friend is having a birthday this Sunday, so I thought I'd bring her either a little shawl or pretty scarf in dark blue Homespun. She loves blue and this stuff is like sapphires. It's also soft, easy to care for and pretty lightweight.

I've decided that, instead of buying new yarn for Christmas gifts this year, I'd use what I have. My stash is crowding me out of house and home, so this is kind of necessary.

Movie Night!

West Coast Video was having quite the sale this past weekend: 50% off all previously viewed DVDs in a certain price range. Hal picked up two:

Uncle Saddam
and
Man Without a Past.

The first was a documentary pieced together from footage shot by a French director way before 9/11, with narration written by writers from "Kids in the Hall." Interestingly enough, the production company is the same that put out the Dolomite films. It was interesting as a sort of historical perspective - footage of the gassing of the Kurds, much talk about Saddam's Republican Guard and other units being the most powerful force in the region, the certainty of WMD. Aside from that, did not care much for the film. It seemed that the images were placed (with a fair bit of filler) to follow the narrative. Also, though I understand that it was a low budget film, it did look cheap.

The second film, Man Without a Past, was the story of a welder who is attacked and left for dead after arriving in Helsinki from an unknown location. This one affected me viscerally in much the same way as the Dogme 95 films did. There was the sense of people in hopelessly awful situations who choose to make the best of what they have, a sort of hopefulness along with surrender to fate (represented by the incredible Socialist bureaucracy that seemed to be mocked time and time again?) Details that appealed very much to me were the lighting (that weird summer night light you only get up in the northern lattitudes) and the music (Something that made me recall the Scandinavian rockabilly I'd heard on an 'HRB orgy once, mixed with tango. Had heard once that Finns were crazy about the Tango; it's a new fad.) Kaurismaki's film so reminded me of the final short piece in Jim Jarmusch's Night on Earth that I had to look it up to see if he'd worked in that production. No - but I did note that Jarmusch does admire him.

Hal picked up a copy of the HFA's latest schedule. My word, what a treat. Between the Surrealist series, the Satyajit Ray and the Aldomovar, I won't be seeing the light of day these next two months.

Tiring few days trying to keep off the leg, manage the pain and be productive at work. I don't know that I'm managing all three particularly well, but am trying.

Frances is making her way through New England right now. The day has been awfully muggy, with rain in the morning. At the moment, there's a fresh breeze knocking things like empty garbage cans around. My windows are open, but not much is entering. Oh for a good cross breeze!

Tonight's iTunes presentation is musica clasica suramericana - Ginastera's Tres Danzas Argentinas is bringing back such memories in my fingers! Particularly the Graceful Girl Dance.

Started some lime marmalade tonight. It's a two day process, so I figured I'd better get a leg up on things now. Scrubbed, seeded and cut the ends off six small limes and four lemons. Cut all of this into small bits and measured how much I had. Added three times the volume of fruit in water, and set everything to soak overnight. Tomorrow morning, I'll cook this mixture down for about 20 minutes and allow it to soak again until I get home from work. Then I'll add the proper amount of sugar (3/4 cup per cup of fruit), cook this down and jar it.
Don't know how it'll turn out, but I do know that the current soak has filled the kitchen with a wonderful green smell. Yum.

Had one heck of a weekend:

Got to see Pablo off on his first major vacation ever. He won a trip to Hawaii, that is, accomodations only, but had to come up with airfare, etc. It's okay - he can afford it. Anyhow, I'm in charge of the kitties (Antonio and Trouble) until he gets back. This will be interesting, as I had quite the action/adventure weekend. As a result, my mobility is seriously reduced. What fun, though!

Friday night was catch up with everyone I know. I'd been so out of contact these past couple months and am only now feeling up to the task of physically pressing the buttons on my old-school analog land line phone (from my dorm, for pete's sake!). Saturday - breakfast at Kelly's with Pablo, some wonderful scores at the Salvation Army with Hal (beautiful beautiful knee-length circle skirt made of peacock-colored silk. Based on the craftsmanship and the notions, I'd say it's probably from the 1950s-early 1960s. Will look wonderful with maybe a ballet or boatneck sweater. Also got a pretty silk blouse of varying shades of pink and a good, plain white blouse.), then out to dinner with Pablo to help him calm down.

Sunday - aaah, Sunday. Monadnock, yet again. As it seemed pretty crowded, we chose Cascade and Pumpelley again to cut down on riff-raff sightings. The descent was white cross - not a difficult path at all. I guess my head was in the clouds, or something, though, as I managed to trip and fall on my left knee. Made it back to the car, then up to Keene for what seemed more like pennance than dinner. Then home.

Yesterday - the knee was hurting so much that I ended up in the emergency room at Somerville Hospital to get it checked out. I tell you, if you have to go and punch a hole in yourself, get sick or break something - this is the hospital to end up in. I was processed through pretty quickly and the staff were nice as always. (Heck! Some even got one or two of my jokes!) Nothing broken, just probably some seriously stretched to torn ligaments in my knee. Hopefully a week in the damn brace will be all I need on that. If not, well, who knows.

Getting to work will be interesting - will take much longer than usual, I'm sure. Will I be riding the bus or gimping along? We'll see when we get out the door.
(The suspense is killing me.)

Tired, went to bed late, now getting up late.
I'm too darn old for this sort of stuff.
Need my coffee and shower.
I've absolutely no desire whatsoever to schlep these tired bones into the office.
Especially since I know someone who's taking a 'mental health' day to climb Monadnock.

Sigh, eh bien, continuons.

"...I am the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valleys. As the lily among the thorns, so is my love among the daughters. As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste..."

-Solomon 2:1-4
 

Talking about cars inevitably leads to talking about bumper stickers.
Recently seen around town:

"You say tomato, I say f--- you!"

"Drink that beer: there are sober kids in India!"

"Drive it like you stole it."

Pablo would like to get one made to put on the street cleaners that says:

"My other car is a Zamboni."

(I really like that one.)

Any other funny ones out there?

More Apropos Taglines for Popular Cars

Jo started it, I'm running with it. If you've any suggestions, please drop a line.

Hummer: "when you absolutely have to look like an a$$hole."

Volvo/Saab: "What? Look at my Sierra Club bumper sticker. I'm a Democrat. How could I possibly be an a$$hole."

Audi: "Schneller, Dieter. I have tickets to see Kraftwerk in Duesseldorf tonight."

Prius: (i) "I don't need to belong to the Sierra Club. I own a Prius."
(ii) "I'm better than you."

Kompressor: "I just paid a boatload of money for something that looks like a Civic."

Scion: "My favorite movie's Princess Mononoke."

Recently, got to talking with my coworker one cube warren down, JoAnn. She was mentioning a Hummer owner/driver tendency to look like an "a$$hole." Now, my whole take on driving/car ownership in Cambridge and Somerville is, hey, come on. This is the city, you're all supposed to be environmentalists or something. How's about practicing what you preach? I've been living pretty happily without a car now for 16 years and do not foresee buying *anything* other than a new set of innertubes for my bike so long as I'm here.

Anyway - as there do seem to be quite a few hummers around here, I got to get a good look at them. You know what? I think that JoAnn might be onto something. Whether they be your typical office worker guy, a fifty-something woman, a teenaged girl, they seem to be driving while talking on a cellphone or doing some other activity that requires more attention than one can safely give while driving in the city. And yes, if you are driving while talking or otherwise engaged, you look like an a$$hole.

This isn't limited to hummer drivers, though. I think that some of the worst and nastiest drivers I've dealt with on my morning and evening commutes are Saab/Volvo drivers, followed by Jetta or Passat-driving 'creative talent.'
It's largely these folks who make my morning/evening walks into work the 'baby sea turtle commute' that it is.

I'm liberal, but not that liberal!

I'm not going to hold my breath waiting for anyone to protest this big business working to reduce competition and squelch small businesses. After all, it's not like they're Wal-Mart or Microsoft, or anything.

A more likely scenario would be Volvo owner indignation at Tom and Ray's 'questioning of their patriotism.'

Darnit. Had to pry the eyelids open with a crowbar this morning.
Throat's all scratchy, too. I'm hoping that I don't have to play "Bureaucracy Under the Influence" again today. Garnering amusement by reaching through the haze and touching coworkers' noses is really disturbing. It also annoys me to have to ask for rides home because I know I'm in no condition to walk.

Am kind of bummed out, man, because it's Hell Week in Boston (August 31 is when most all of the leases end) and I've not been able to go out on Trash Night. You'd be amazed what people will throw away here. My apartment is furnished almost entirely with curbside castoffs (also known as 'ground score'). Since Pablo's sister Anna Maria has just moved here, she needs stuff. Wanted to find her some basics.
Maybe tomorrow. We'll see.

Since I'm going to be here for the weekend, I guess I could see if there's anything good at yard sales or the Salvation Army...but paying for what I can get for free just seems so...dirty, maybe?

I think that part of what has me a bit down and out today, too, is that I am really disappointed with Andrew Sullivan now and his stance on the Swift Boat veterans. He's calling their campaign against Kerry a 'smear,' and even called them Karl Rove operatives at one point.

Kerry did a dishonorable thing to these veterans back in 1971. He slandered them terribly, calling them 'war criminals, rapists, murderers, etc.' Who knows, he may even have been responsible for the torture and death of many because of these words. In essence, he sold his 'band of brothers' down the Mekong River. Should these people be taking this lying down? Their honor was besmirched back then - and now, to add insult to injury, this...this...I don't even know what to call him...opportunist? (think of something worse, Be) has the nerve to paint himself as a 'war hero,' when it's looking more and more like he did no more than GWB did during that time.

Sorry, but if Kerry didn't want to get burned by this, he and his campaign staff should have thought twice before bringing Vietnam up. Should have left it well enough alone, like how they tried to spin stuff for the last president, who, not only didn't serve, but attended anti American protests while studying abroad.

If I'd not known Kerry before hand, I'd have an awfully dim view of him from this and would seriously wonder what he would do with the country in order to leverage himself.
As it currently stands, it's just one more reason for me to not stand the guy.

It breaks my heart about Andrew Sullivan, because his site is the one that got me interested in this new medium. It seems, though, that he's been soured both by the work and by the introduction of constitutional amendment on marriage and its backing by Mr. Bush. This is valid, yes - but it seems to be coloring most all of what he's written lately, and, well, he's sounding more and more like folks around here and less and less like the Andrewsullivan enigma who caught my eye just after 9/11.

A catnap and a noodle making workout have me feeling less out of sorts.
Decided that it would be nice to have homemade 'pasta' (though I think that these might better be termed kluski.)

Better'n Whole Foods Hippie Homemade Noodles

4 c flour
3 eggs
1/3 c water
2 t salt
2-3 T toasted wheat germ, a pinch of oregano or some other spice, whatever.

Pile dry ingredients in a large bowl. Make a well into which you add the eggs and the water.
Work with hands until all flour is absorbed into dough.
Turn out onto floured board and knead for 10-15 minutes. This will be tough work, but about as good as Hanon for you pianists out there.
Divide dough into four parts, cover three of the parts with a towel to keep moist.
Roll out each until roughly 1/8" thick or translucent. Cut as you'd like.
Let dry for at least an hour.

Feeds four really hungry folks, or six less hungry people...or 24 Atkins folks. Something like that, yeah.

Lost Afternoon

Got broadsided by ragweed today.
Karen gave me a chlor trimeton. Boy oh boy, that's some good sh!t.
Felt more like I was in an opium den than in my cubicle.
More later, hopefully. I have a lot en tête.

Don't know if it's a result of having had no running water and poor soap up in Maine, but my face is broken out worse than ever. I've had to resort to using one of those old school clay masks to try and calm my too sensitive and obviously very upset skin down.

This weekend was crazy busy. No Hal around; he was in NYC visiting with college buddies. I was busy independently of him. Yesterday, managed to get Pablo out and up to Freeport, ME to visit the LL Bean Mothership. Got him some boots, socks, a first aid kit, flashlight, a really really cool shirt that not only repels bugs and blocks out UV rays, but looks good. I really like that ex officio stuff. If it weren't so gosh darned expensive, I'd have much more of it than I do. My favorite dress is a nice orange plaid one that I got from EMS a few years back. I think it was discounted from about $50 to $5. You can't get me out of the thing in summers.

For myself, another pair of teva sandals (this pair even cheaper than the last. They're really trying to make room for the upcoming season's merchandise) and some of that great castile soap from Dr. Bronner. You know the stuff - it was a staple at co ops in the 70s. Comes in the plastic bottle with the blue and white label just *covered* in small print. Apparently it's some sort of Jesus/World Peace manifesto. Not sure about the particulars, as the print was making me go bug-eyed.

Spiritual and Emotional Sustenance:

Surprise dinner party for Auntie Scott tonight. Stirfry, old fashioned coconut birthday cake, a very original film and unusual adaptation of the Oresteia. I met Scott and Colin at about the same time; we worked together in the theater(I love that, doesn't it sound great?). I guess you could say that we're a 'band of brothers' of a sort for having survived a three-week run of a four hour long interpretation of "The Winter's Tale."

Apparently, Scott helped out with the restoration of sound to another old talkie with the Vitaphone Project. It will be fun to see it once he receives a copy.

Every time I see them, of course I think, why don't we get together more often? Why does life have to be so hectic now and why do our paths have to be as divergent as they are?

Food as Love:

I have a correspondent from somewhere in Massachusetts who strikes me as a male Gabriela. We do an awful lot of talking about food, among other things like the typical religion, politics, etc. Anyhow, inspired by his words on homegrown cherry peppers stuffed with sharp provolone and prosciutto, preserved in (the best you can afford) olive oil, I had a bit of a food escapade of my own yesterday. Capone Foods is just outside of Union Square in Somerville. I often go there to buy olives and cheese, as they've the best outside of Eastie, as far as I'm concerned. The prices aren't bad, either. Since yesterday was payday, I decided to treat myself to some good olive oil and a bit of fresh aged cheese to add with my herbs for a homemade pesto. Perhaps it was Mr. Capone manning the counter yesterday, don't know, but whoever it was is a great salesperson. He gave me a taste of some very expensive balsamic vinegar. I couldn't afford it, so it's on my wish list from Santa this year. I got a bit of considerably less expensive but still kind of pricey vinegar. Lovely how smooth even that is on the tongue.
My other impulse buy was a package of amaretto cookies.

Dinner last night? Fresh tomatoes with some of that new balsamic vinegar, fresh ground pepper and salt. Chicken breasts in my newly-made pesto. For dessert, quite a coup: I took four or five peaches that were on the verge of being too ripe, rubbed a bit of fuzz off them, then pitted and cut them into bits. Crushed them and added a bit of anisette liqueur to them (Had the Hiram Walker stuff hanging around. I'm sure that anything else would do in a pinch.) Allowed all this to sit while we ate. At serving time, I put the peaches in bowls, topped each with a dollop of plain sour cream, then crushed a couple amaretti on them. This was beyond food bliss and into the realm of almost erotic love. A first kiss from that older, more experienced man. My word. (fanning myself.)

Back again. Pesto Beverli-ese:

3 cups loosely packed basil leaves
1/3 c. freshly ground parmesan cheese (I used pecorino this time 'round)
1/3 c. olive oil
3 cloves garlic
1/3 c. pignoli (or walnuts)

Whirl the basil leaves in a food processor or blender with the (roughly chopped) garlic and nuts. Add the oil to this mixture in a thin stream. Stir in the cheese. Makes about a cup and a half. I'm told that this will keep for a week in the fridge, but honestly, it never seems to last that long here.

I'm going to try a fines herbes pesto and maybe even a parsley one later on. I'll keep you posted on the developments.

Food for Thought:

A couple of trivial things sort of got my goat the past couple weeks.

Up where we visit in Maine, it's started to gentrify, and seems a bit in some places like NYC or Boston. You get a lot of people up theah who drive the Volvo station wagons, the Subaru Forresters, and now the Priuses.
Based on these car choices, you can pretty much deduce that their owners are 'liberal' in the "move on" sense of the term. I am so tired of listening to wealthy east coasters spewing Communist propaganda. For one thing, clearly someone does not understand that the minute you start blaming one group (this time around, the 'evil corporate capitalists') for all the world's ills, and start talking of how their elimination will make the world better, you are headed down the path of evil. I'm sorry, even the folks who want 'the best' for everyone are now in the company of thugs.

Secondly, I'm listening to people who I'm pretty certain did not get to afford the beautiful sylvan retreats, sailboats and nice, foreign cars from giving their fortunes away to the Greater Good of Mankind. These same people who holler about 'tax cuts for everyone' making them sick tend to be rather conspicuously silent on things like the repeal of inheritance taxes, for example.

The other thing that sort of annoyed me, and I'm sure that it's just me here, was a reference to how difficult it is for the typical female growing up in America. I guess that that's true - it's not easy being a girl, or black, or anything obviously different from whatever people are saying is deviant from the 'norm,' or 'acceptable.' For me, it was not so easy being of above average intelligence in the public schools back home. Combine that with my being a girl, my lack of athletic prowess, ethnic background, the use of red ink to correct my homework - you've all the makings of a very picked-on and unhappy girl. The nice thing was that I grew out of it. Stuff ain't perfect here, but it is within my ability to make life better for me. (Actually wrote a bit about the experience of being me here a little while back.) For laughs, what do you say we contrast this with growing up female in, say, Iran. Or Saudi Arabia, maybe.

Thought this kind of cute:







A bit of background, as well.

Cultivant mon jardin.

The past week has been enough to try a saint, between work and home. For better or for worse, I'm back again and starting to build up that callous against everyday life in the city.

Haven't talked much about my garden lately because, quite frankly, I've not been spending much time in it. It, however, in spite of my neglect and a really strange growing season, has been treating me better than I deserve, I think. I am never not growing anything by seed again. Have had total success in that foray, and it's so much cheaper than buying plants! My dollar a packet Burpee tomato seeds (two varieties) are growing tomatoes like a girl on fertility drugs grows babies. I've had to stake everything up three or four times, because the plants are almost collapsing under the weight of the fruit. (twenty plants, each with three to five fruits apiece.) When I returned home on Saturday of last week, I had like ten fully ripened tomatoes. Since then, it's been a tomato for breakfast, two for lunch...and an extra brought along to share.

The zucchini were a disappointment this year. I'm not sure what I did wrong - only got one, and the plants got root rot. Raphaella tells me that I got one more than she did. Might have been the alpine conditions up here on Winter Hill. Funny thing is - I did pretty well with the cucumbers. No disappointments there.

The herbs, well, they are in such proliferation as to be considered almost invasive. I've been putting thyme and rosemary in bouquets I give to friends. My mint might make a few extra jars of jelly for my lamb-eating friends. I've gone through the basil, the parsley and the chives a number times over and they just keep regenerating! What a joy.

Yes, the peaches have ripened as well. The tricky thing with these is that you've a very small window between their being ripe enough to pick and their ending up as mulch. I got two shopping bags ful -froze a bunch, made a few jars of peach butter (like apple butter, only with peaches...nice! Just take 4 pounds of peaches, skin, pit and slice them. Cook down slowly. Mash a bit when they are soft enough. For each cup of fruit pulp, add 1/2 cup of sugar, cook until sugar's dissolved. To all this, add a couple teaspoons of cinnamon, a teaspoon of cloves, a half teaspoon of nutmeg. Continue cooking until mixture thickens. When done, pour into clean, sterile jars and seal. Will make three 12 oz jars.)

Since the cosmos are now fading and all that's really left of things are marigolds and a few snapdragons, no doubt I will start weeding and pulling stuff up next week. I'd like to get a few mums to put on the front steps and attempt to grow, as a last hurrah of sorts, some kale. I'd start things now, but we have a whole team of Brasilian guys scraping, power washing, trying to pretty up the house. It's kind of pleasant listening their take on the language, combined with the sounds of things being improved.

Double Oh My!

I am blushing.

This is what I so love about the internet and blogging. Where else could a girl with a by the skin of her teeth liberal arts education get a comprehensive education regarding British party politics (among other things) from an investment banker on the other side of the Atlantic? I am verymuch in agreement with Wretchard's likening of this medium to Gutenberg's invention.

Oh my!

Thank you, Sir, for the link. Thank you, too, for visiting, folks who made it here via the Instapundit link!

Hal has a wonderful set of images from our trip at Gotrox.org. Go take a look and why we spend as much time as possible off the grid.  

Well, don't know if there is any great renewal of my vim or vigor, but I am back again, at any rate.

It's amazing what a girl will miss out on when she's under a literal news blackout. Or rather, what she *won't* miss while under blackout.

That's it for now. I'm off the grid for two weeks. See you all again at the end of August. 

Preparations have been made. The cats are with Pablo.
The garden (oh the tomatoes!) is under the care of Raphaella and Lucas.
I have my clean laundry ready to be packed, my knitting projects chosen, my books in a pile on my bed. Work - well, work will keep. That's for sure.

As I've been so in a haze these past few weeks, it's nice to be excited about something. I'm so looking forward to devouring L'Enfant du Sable with the intent of rendering it into English. I'm also looking forward to finishing Moby Dick. Easy stuff this time around, but that's all I can really handle right now.

My knitting will be just as simple - a pretty rhythmic stripe pattern in nice spice colors for the mom and complementary sweaters for dad and baby. Maybe some sock work.

The best thing will be the quiet, though. I really need it right now.

I love my friends! When I don't see them for a long time, it really brings home to me how good it is to have them in my life. A couple weeks ago, I got to spend a day with the Chumworth family. The other night, I got to see Monique after about a lapse of a year. She showed up in her new Isadora Duncan car and for the first time in my life, I knew lust. Had a lovely dinner at a little bistro in JP: Ten Tables. We were so proud of ourselves for choosing from the prix fixe menu, even though, with wine and all the little extras we got, it ended up costing the same as Evoo.

We're such different people but in a complementary way. I love her style. She reminds me that, though good organization and efficiency are excellent traits to have, that, though frugality is a definate must in Boston's economy when you are working in helping fields as we do, you really need to remember to take good care of yourself sometimes. I'd not splurge on such little luxuries or get to let the wind whip through my hair like I did if it weren't for her.

Lots of half-formed thoughts in my brain, but I am too overwhelmed and tired to complete them, much less write them down. Was thinking a lot about media bias lately, especially after a lunchtime conversation with some coworkers who asserted that corporate media is largely conservative. I disagree with this assertion. Instapundit linked to an interesting study on bias which I read - interesting metric used - the number of liberal vs conservative think tank citations both by news articles and politicians. Good food for thought. For a perhaps less empirical but still thought provoking take - have a look at this site. Also interesting is Spinsanity.org.

Have been reading the latest edition of Foreign Affairs - lots of good stuff in it, as always. Two articles that have been giving me great food for thought are:

History and Hyperpower - is the US an empire in the style of past empires? Should we be comporting ourselves as one? What has history to show us?

Strengthening African Leadership - a look at some post colonial governments in Africa that are working and why. While we're at it, I think that it would be very good to read this article in conjunction with a Tech Central Station article on an African miracle.

Snort.

Thought it might be a good idea to put the rest of the pictures from the big Buffalo/Toronto adventure up before I had a *new* set of pictures from Maine.

Enjoy...and, of course, you-know-who took them with his good ol' handy dandy nikon coolpix 990. Nothing here, save for maybe one or two at the South Park Conservatory, were run through any color correction or other treatment.

Old menu from the Royal York Hotel, built by the Canadian Pacific Railway, and until only recently, the largest hotel in the British Empire. 

Royal York Hotel Lobby 

View from our hotel window 

Out our window at night. 

Mounted Police. The gentleman in blue is a Metro Toronto policeman in his dress uniform. Next to him, of course, is a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Such impressive figures. Golly, I love a man in uniform. 

Mounted Police being followed by some Canada Day groupies. You should have seen how giggly these girls were!