What did the deadhead say when he ran out of pot?
-Gee, this band sucks.
(Snort. Thanks, Karen.)
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
A couple found images from my dad's place.
This is me thirty years ago - I was four at the time. Like every other little girl whose mom had show-biz aspirations for her, I had to take dance lessons. Since my mom had a thing for Shirley Temple, she put me in tap dance school. Funny thing: I still remember the routines for the different recitals.
This is my dad forty years ago - at the time, he was 24. This was taken in Texas, I think, just before he was shipped off to the far east. Of course, the only stories he's told me about his time in the Army were pleasant ones: reminiscences of the Emerald Buddha on his one leave to Thailand, of aggravating the Korean MPs in Vietnam, of watching the sun rise as he was leaving Hawaii for his tour. He has particularly fond memories of Tales of the South Pacific, the last book in the barracks library left for him to read. Told me that he avoided the book till the very end because he'd figured it to be a soap opera. Was very surprised to find that it wasn't.
This is me thirty years ago - I was four at the time. Like every other little girl whose mom had show-biz aspirations for her, I had to take dance lessons. Since my mom had a thing for Shirley Temple, she put me in tap dance school. Funny thing: I still remember the routines for the different recitals.
This is my dad forty years ago - at the time, he was 24. This was taken in Texas, I think, just before he was shipped off to the far east. Of course, the only stories he's told me about his time in the Army were pleasant ones: reminiscences of the Emerald Buddha on his one leave to Thailand, of aggravating the Korean MPs in Vietnam, of watching the sun rise as he was leaving Hawaii for his tour. He has particularly fond memories of Tales of the South Pacific, the last book in the barracks library left for him to read. Told me that he avoided the book till the very end because he'd figured it to be a soap opera. Was very surprised to find that it wasn't.
Of all of Winslow Homer's works that we saw at the Clark last week, Undertow is the one that keeps coming back to haunt me.
Could it be because of my fear of the ocean? I'm a strong swimmer, but feel that I'd been drowned out of a past life.
Perhaps I was just picking up on some other references. Hal mentioned that the composition reminded him of the arrangement of sculptures in a Greek pediment.
For some reason, I got to thinking of this alternately beautiful and horrifying piece at the Gardner.
***
Hmm, interesting. After clicking around on the Phoenix aht crit page I find this.
They're saying that there's no connection. Am not so sure about that.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Buffalosehnsuchten*
On the radio, Horowitz is playing Schumann's Scenes from Childhood. I'm sitting here mapping out a sweater for Baby Landlord, who showed up a few weeks early. One of my favorite beers all year, Harpoon's Winter Warmer, showed up at the package store, so had to get some. Heavens, nutmeg is good in beer.
Though I've only been back a day, am feeling some serious heimweh. Thank heavens I have my little 'kitchen cabinet comforts' to help ease the sting.
*longing for Buffalo.
On the radio, Horowitz is playing Schumann's Scenes from Childhood. I'm sitting here mapping out a sweater for Baby Landlord, who showed up a few weeks early. One of my favorite beers all year, Harpoon's Winter Warmer, showed up at the package store, so had to get some. Heavens, nutmeg is good in beer.
Though I've only been back a day, am feeling some serious heimweh. Thank heavens I have my little 'kitchen cabinet comforts' to help ease the sting.
*longing for Buffalo.
Poor devil never stood a chance.
-Nymphs and Satyr, William Bouguereau
My favorite from the Clark's Fiftieth Anniversary Fifty. (Happy Birthday to this gem in the Berkshires!)
-Nymphs and Satyr, William Bouguereau
My favorite from the Clark's Fiftieth Anniversary Fifty. (Happy Birthday to this gem in the Berkshires!)
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Time to head out.
This morning:
West down Rte 2. Stop at Williamstown.
Get ourselves onto the Pike heading west. Drive a bit. Make our way to Saratoga Springs. Catch another exhibit. Spend the night. Maybe get a mineral bath in. (Coopertown's a bit out of the way, otherwise, we'd visit Ommegang and Howe Caverns.)
Back on the road. Straight shot down the Thruway to Buffalo. In between family visits and turkey dinners (two scheduled so far), maybe we'll get to squeeze a bit of sightseeing in.
Next: grab rte 17 and head due east along the Susquehanna. Lots of Revolutionary War memorial sites along this route, so plenty to look at. Make our way up to Binghamton for the next round of Thanksgivings (two, I'm told). Stay a couple days to rest, catch up with family, admire Andrew's (redhead at the head of the table) new house. Head north to catch the Thruway east. Drive all day. Get home.
I'm going to be under radio silence for a while, but do try to pay a visit to these folks - they're wonderful company.
Enjoy your week. Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving (or two...or three...or four).
This morning:
West down Rte 2. Stop at Williamstown.
Get ourselves onto the Pike heading west. Drive a bit. Make our way to Saratoga Springs. Catch another exhibit. Spend the night. Maybe get a mineral bath in. (Coopertown's a bit out of the way, otherwise, we'd visit Ommegang and Howe Caverns.)
Back on the road. Straight shot down the Thruway to Buffalo. In between family visits and turkey dinners (two scheduled so far), maybe we'll get to squeeze a bit of sightseeing in.
Next: grab rte 17 and head due east along the Susquehanna. Lots of Revolutionary War memorial sites along this route, so plenty to look at. Make our way up to Binghamton for the next round of Thanksgivings (two, I'm told). Stay a couple days to rest, catch up with family, admire Andrew's (redhead at the head of the table) new house. Head north to catch the Thruway east. Drive all day. Get home.
I'm going to be under radio silence for a while, but do try to pay a visit to these folks - they're wonderful company.
Enjoy your week. Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving (or two...or three...or four).
Friday, November 18, 2005
Programming Language Inventor or Serial Killer?
I have to admit, I only scored 4/10. Also have to admit that the last boyfriend was a mathematician, wore a blue hoodie and had the nickname Ted.
-Thanks, Paula!
I have to admit, I only scored 4/10. Also have to admit that the last boyfriend was a mathematician, wore a blue hoodie and had the nickname Ted.
-Thanks, Paula!
Product review can be an artform in its own right. There was never any doubt in my mind that there'd be an Amazon version of Leonard Maltin at some point.
Literally ran into the car of an ex-someone last night on the way home. He offered me a ride which I ordinarily wouldn't have taken except for the cold. Was a bit of a shock, as had not seen or heard from him in a number of years (didn't part ways on the best of terms).
He's doing well; said that I looked like I was doing well for myself. Liked the haircut (or was being polite about it. It's been shockingly short for about three weeks, now.) When he got to the corner where my house is, said our goodbyes. Asked if I'd like to have lunch with him sometime soon. Told him that I was going away for a while to visit family, so not soon.
Don't know how to feel about this. I was thankful for the ride home and am genuinely happy that he's realizing everything he'd set out to do. Don't know that I feel like having lunch with a person who did the number on my heart that he did. I don't know that I'd be able to eat, and wasting food's a sin.
He's doing well; said that I looked like I was doing well for myself. Liked the haircut (or was being polite about it. It's been shockingly short for about three weeks, now.) When he got to the corner where my house is, said our goodbyes. Asked if I'd like to have lunch with him sometime soon. Told him that I was going away for a while to visit family, so not soon.
Don't know how to feel about this. I was thankful for the ride home and am genuinely happy that he's realizing everything he'd set out to do. Don't know that I feel like having lunch with a person who did the number on my heart that he did. I don't know that I'd be able to eat, and wasting food's a sin.
Went downstairs to do my laundry and found the basement filled with strange Brazillian men. Ordinarily, I'd not give this a second thought, as the house I live in is a work in progress and most people who do that sort of work here are either Brazillian or Vietnamese. It's just odd to have one's basement filled with swarthy strangers sawing, nailing, varnishing things way so far past dinnertime.
What made me really unhappy was that the varnish smell made its way up to my floor. My house smelled of it and I couldn't open the windows. Too cold.
What made me really unhappy was that the varnish smell made its way up to my floor. My house smelled of it and I couldn't open the windows. Too cold.
Hal's mom calls it skaubenites; my family simply called it cha. Whatever one calls it, it's tangy-tasty and grows like a weed.
Had a bumpercrop this year of both the wild and the cultivated varieties. Since I'm a firm believer in waste-not-want-not, I've been trying (with no success so far) to find a way to preserve the rest of seemingly undending supply.
If anyone has any suggestions on this, I'd really appreciate hearing them. For the moment, I'm eating as much in salads and soup as possible. I've also been bringing friends and coworkers bunches accompanied by this recipe:
Sorrel Soup
1 bunch sorrel (about 2 cups shredded)
1 small onion
1-2 cloves garlic (depending on taste)
1-2 stalks celery, diced
2-3 T butter (I use Smart Balance - works perfectly fine)
2T flour
3/4 c milk (I use 1% -a little fat, but not too much)
3-4 c chicken broth (or so)
Saute the onion, garlic, celery in a bit of the butter. When all this is transparent, add the sorrel. When sorrel cooks down, add remaining bit of butter along with flour to make a roux. When the roux get a little beige-y, start gradually adding milk. Be sure to keep stirring this so you don't end up with lumps! To this mixture, add the chicken broth until the soup reaches desired thickness*. If you have some spare herbs straggling around, add them if you'd like**. Simmer on low (low!) flame for another 4-5 minutes, stirring constantly, until soup's heated through.
Makes 4-5 cups.
*I usually eyeball it. In the spring/summer, I add more broth as I want a lighter soup. The current version's been thicker, almost like a potato leek soup.
**Last night's soup had some thyme, tarragon and oregano from the garden.
Had a bumpercrop this year of both the wild and the cultivated varieties. Since I'm a firm believer in waste-not-want-not, I've been trying (with no success so far) to find a way to preserve the rest of seemingly undending supply.
If anyone has any suggestions on this, I'd really appreciate hearing them. For the moment, I'm eating as much in salads and soup as possible. I've also been bringing friends and coworkers bunches accompanied by this recipe:
Sorrel Soup
1 bunch sorrel (about 2 cups shredded)
1 small onion
1-2 cloves garlic (depending on taste)
1-2 stalks celery, diced
2-3 T butter (I use Smart Balance - works perfectly fine)
2T flour
3/4 c milk (I use 1% -a little fat, but not too much)
3-4 c chicken broth (or so)
Saute the onion, garlic, celery in a bit of the butter. When all this is transparent, add the sorrel. When sorrel cooks down, add remaining bit of butter along with flour to make a roux. When the roux get a little beige-y, start gradually adding milk. Be sure to keep stirring this so you don't end up with lumps! To this mixture, add the chicken broth until the soup reaches desired thickness*. If you have some spare herbs straggling around, add them if you'd like**. Simmer on low (low!) flame for another 4-5 minutes, stirring constantly, until soup's heated through.
Makes 4-5 cups.
*I usually eyeball it. In the spring/summer, I add more broth as I want a lighter soup. The current version's been thicker, almost like a potato leek soup.
**Last night's soup had some thyme, tarragon and oregano from the garden.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Was taking a good serious look at the hands and feet just a few minutes ago. The swelling's gone down a bit, but the left one (yeah, the one I write with, scratch myself with, point the finger at folks with) is still smarting a fair bit. Hopefully, if the weather keeps drying out like it is, Left Hand will be back to normal again soon.
Left leg's been feeling weak. Last night, I was tired from a longer than usual day at work. My not being attentive to where I was placing my feet, along with the darkness and weak leg ended up in a fall. Sprained my poor left foot. I think if I brace it (and the knee) for the walk in today, it should be okay, though.
Left leg's been feeling weak. Last night, I was tired from a longer than usual day at work. My not being attentive to where I was placing my feet, along with the darkness and weak leg ended up in a fall. Sprained my poor left foot. I think if I brace it (and the knee) for the walk in today, it should be okay, though.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Objets Trouvés
Walking through the junkyards on my way to work, I often find things that catch my eye. If they aren't too cumbersome and I think I can use them for something, I'll take them with me to the office.
What I tend to like the most are hubcaps. You can do all sorts of neat things with them depending on their shape, whether or not they're broken, etc. Last week, I picked up a particularly nifty one that somehow shattered into a star - solder a few pieces of mismatched silverware on, give it all a little shine-up and it'll make quite the supernova. Attach a tail of CDs cut in half and I'll have a comet. Mentioned this to the department head after he asked me about my new treasure and how I was going to decorate my new wall. He told me I had a "singular vision" and backed away. Karen said that I should change my name to Sanford. Let them laugh.
Am willing to bet that a certain someone understands.
(-image via that jewelbox full of all things bright and beautiful.)
Walking through the junkyards on my way to work, I often find things that catch my eye. If they aren't too cumbersome and I think I can use them for something, I'll take them with me to the office.
What I tend to like the most are hubcaps. You can do all sorts of neat things with them depending on their shape, whether or not they're broken, etc. Last week, I picked up a particularly nifty one that somehow shattered into a star - solder a few pieces of mismatched silverware on, give it all a little shine-up and it'll make quite the supernova. Attach a tail of CDs cut in half and I'll have a comet. Mentioned this to the department head after he asked me about my new treasure and how I was going to decorate my new wall. He told me I had a "singular vision" and backed away. Karen said that I should change my name to Sanford. Let them laugh.
Am willing to bet that a certain someone understands.
(-image via that jewelbox full of all things bright and beautiful.)
The Wall
A couple years back, I got reorganized from the Fourth Floor down to the Second Floor. After being reorganized again last January, someone got the idea that it might be a good idea for me to be kicked back upstairs. The estimated re-reorg was to take place in July of this year, and I was to move into my former office which had been turned into a conference room. As could be expected, I made it upstairs a month late to a conference room instead of an office. No problem; I'd been working in The Agora before, so can handle just about everything now.
Things were coming along swimmingly until about three weeks ago, when I got a memo. Apparently, my wall was finally going to be built. Would be an overnight project, so I'd not be inconvenienced in any way.
Har! If anything, I got to know the guys in facilities really well: nailguns, buzzsaws and everything. Initially, I was to get a full wall and a door. Didn't happen. They started with a sort of shelf thing that was about four feet high. People would come by, lean over the shelf to see what I was doing and ask me why I had a shelf put in. Sometimes I'd answer that IT was starting an ice cream stand. Other times, that I needed it so that I could take in laundry. Someone in HR asked, so I replied that we were piloting puppet theater as an alternative to e-learning.
Word of my lunch counter got around to the head of facilities, so he inspected. Didn't understand why we weren't happy with the half a wall, but put in another workorder to get it extended to a reasonable height (meaning high enough for me to get some privacy). The next afternoon, the workmen came back and, after making fun of me for not being happy with the wall, started work again. After a few days (couple of which I couldn't stay in my work area), they extended it to about six feet (to my occasional cries of "For the Love of God,Montressor!" -Karen got it, anyway.) Now people have to lean around the wall in order to ask me how well I like it.
As I write, am chuckling a little. Before the workers got around to painting my wall, Karen and I tagged it. Since they only used one coat of paint, I'm still seeing her little maxim which didn't quite disappear: "Petit à petit l’oiseau fait son nid."
A couple years back, I got reorganized from the Fourth Floor down to the Second Floor. After being reorganized again last January, someone got the idea that it might be a good idea for me to be kicked back upstairs. The estimated re-reorg was to take place in July of this year, and I was to move into my former office which had been turned into a conference room. As could be expected, I made it upstairs a month late to a conference room instead of an office. No problem; I'd been working in The Agora before, so can handle just about everything now.
Things were coming along swimmingly until about three weeks ago, when I got a memo. Apparently, my wall was finally going to be built. Would be an overnight project, so I'd not be inconvenienced in any way.
Har! If anything, I got to know the guys in facilities really well: nailguns, buzzsaws and everything. Initially, I was to get a full wall and a door. Didn't happen. They started with a sort of shelf thing that was about four feet high. People would come by, lean over the shelf to see what I was doing and ask me why I had a shelf put in. Sometimes I'd answer that IT was starting an ice cream stand. Other times, that I needed it so that I could take in laundry. Someone in HR asked, so I replied that we were piloting puppet theater as an alternative to e-learning.
Word of my lunch counter got around to the head of facilities, so he inspected. Didn't understand why we weren't happy with the half a wall, but put in another workorder to get it extended to a reasonable height (meaning high enough for me to get some privacy). The next afternoon, the workmen came back and, after making fun of me for not being happy with the wall, started work again. After a few days (couple of which I couldn't stay in my work area), they extended it to about six feet (to my occasional cries of "For the Love of God,Montressor!" -Karen got it, anyway.) Now people have to lean around the wall in order to ask me how well I like it.
As I write, am chuckling a little. Before the workers got around to painting my wall, Karen and I tagged it. Since they only used one coat of paint, I'm still seeing her little maxim which didn't quite disappear: "Petit à petit l’oiseau fait son nid."
Lost 'Walking on the Moon' last night to a pretty Chuck Prophet song about old friends. This was brought on by static-y message from the soft, Australian-accented voice telling me that "we've been out of touch for so long; we have to catch up."
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