The Kids Are Alright

Thanks to "The Kids Are Alright," Ronniecat's yesterday post, for my year-ending post for 2007. Here's a link to a web address in one of the comments on her post, too.

It's nice to read about kids (in one case, a bunch of 12-year-olds) who--on their own--stand up against stereotypes and bullies.

And it's equally fine to read about another kid, age 17, who raised enough money to open a school for poor kids in a Cambodian village.

Kinda awe-inspiring, isn't it? And a kick in the pants for the rest of us for those times when we think, "I'm just one person...what I say or do doesn't matter in this day and age."

(And before you say anything, Ex-Shammie, "alright" must be a Canadian idiom! Ex-Shammie insists that "XtremeEnglish" is all wrong. Can't help it, Ex-Shammie....the rights to "Extreme English" were taken already.)

Benazir Bhutto 1953-2007

I can't download any photos of Benazir Bhutto, but please look at Mad Cabbie's blog for a touching comment.

Here is her obituary as carried in BBC.com

And the AP profile by Matthew Pennington and Jerry Schwartz as carried in the Rocky Mountain News.

And a moving personal reminiscence by Arianna Huffington on HuffPost.

What a courageous woman! May she rest in peace, and may we follow her example of living full out in the cause of peace.

Games

Birthplace of XtremeEnglish, with everyone inside, it looks like.

Many people at this time of year play games indoors: Monopoly, Bridge, Canasta, Chess, Checkers, Candyland, Old Maid, Twister, Charades. The kids get a new game as a gift, or the weather outside sucks, or the family is gathered together and the acceptable topics of conversation are quickly exhausted—when I was growing up, the most often discussed topic was recipes, go figure, as in “Babe makes the best brownies ever,” or “Aunt May adds a few grains of nutmeg to her homemade pancakes, and they are quite exquisite,” or “Jack loves my mother’s whortleberry pie”….end of story—and out comes the deck of cards or the beloved, beat-up box containing the game board, playing pieces, or whatnot for the favorite game.

My oldest niece’s clan played two rousing games of Chinese Checkers one afternoon when I visited last summer. They were quite good at it, too. The last time I had played Chinese Checkers prior to this was one very chilly June day on the neighbors’ porch at Lake Sallie, which would be at least 50+ years ago.

In general, most games tend to put me to sleep. Only Bridge is sufficiently varied to offer enough challenge, though it's been more than 20 years since I last played. Ditto Trivial Pursuit, and I have passed the peak age for Trivial Pursuit, which I think is around 50. By the time you hit 50, you have enough experience of the world to be a formidable player, but your memory hasn’t started to go to the dogs. I have resolved, however, to add more simple fun to my days, and my thoughts have turned to games.

A couple of years ago I bought a game to have around for visiting offspring, and today I got as far as taking the plastic wrapper off the box. I was going to bring it along to some friends’ house for after-dinner entertainment, but I forgot (!) it.

Maybe I should just smoke dope.

Christmas Memories...Best Forgotten

There's been a load of happy Christmas memories afloat in Blogland this week. I have my share of very pleasant memories of Yuletides past, but what I find morbidly fascinating are the stories I've heard of not-so-happy Christmases. The following are both true. They didn't happen to me or any of my relatives, but they came to me from a very reliable source.

The first story is about a family at Christmas dinner. Grandma and Grandpa were visiting, and the young mom had produced a splendid feast. While they were eating, the family started arguing light-heartedly about something...probably sports. Suddenly Grandma stood up, threw her napkin on her plate, and said, "I'm so sick of this. I'm sick of you all, and I'm especially sick of HIM." She pointed to Grandpa, whose fork was paused in mid air as he turned his head to see if it really was his wife who was talking like this. Grandma continued, "I've had it. I want a divorce! And I'm taking the car." With that, she stalked to the front hall, grabbed her coat and purse, slammed out the door, and drove off. I asked the narrator at this point what happened next, and she said, "Well, she drove to a motel in..........and they had to give him a ride home."

The second story concerns a family on Christmas Eve. The grandmother had to work late, and when she got home, she discovered one of her children and the child's spouse trying to comfort their screaming toddler. The kid had his arm in a sling and was wiping his nose on the back of the couch as he sobbed into the upholstery. Just then, Grandpa arrived, and asked what was going on. Grandma explained that toddler had gotten his arm twisted in daycare, and that the little family had come over to her place and let themselves in after they got out of the emergency room. Then Grandma broke down, sobbing...."What's the most important thing to me in MY LIFE?!" Grandpa said, "Your grandchild?" and Grandma said, "NO!!! MY WHITE COUCH!!!" and she pointed to the snot and slobber all over the back cushions.

I also recall the Christmas card that was Tom's favorite:
On the outside: Santa and his reindeer about to land the sleigh on a snow-covered rooftop.
On the inside: "Here comes fatty with his bag of crap!"

Merry Christmas, however it lands on your house......

Lovely Memories, 2

Katie, 18 mos., and Snowball in side yard, summer 1967.





When we lived in Bismarck, we moved to a log cabin on two acres in the Missouri River bottoms about six months after Katie was born. Our place was across the street from the arena for the Bismarck Horse Club until they moved the arena deep into the woods about the time Tom was born a couple of years later.

Bismarck is pretty dry, but in the spring, the ruts in the old arena would fill up with snow melt. Frogs would lay their eggs in these deep puddles, and after observing all this activity, Peggy and Sally would go across the street with tea strainers and harvest a bunch of frog eggs. They'd put them in big water-filled mayonnaise and pickle jars that we'd get from the Big Boy/KFC (called by nearly all the toddlers in our acquaintance "fucky fied chick'n") outlet at the end of the main street.

Pretty soon, the eggs would hatch, and we'd have big jars full of wee tadpoles at the end of the veranda on the side by the sandbox, swings, and apple orchard. And they'd grow....and grow. Pretty soon, you could HEAR the tadpoles splashing around from quite a distance. Slop! Splish! Splash!! And then it'd be time to carry the jars across the street and let the tadpoles go back into the puddles.

That was about the time of year, too, when the wild coyotes in the Missouri river bottom would call to those in the Dakota Zoo (just beyond the arena) at night after we were all in bed. And shortly after that, the wrens would arrive in our side yard, announcing that the wild asparagus was up in the woods.

The year before Tom was born, I was teaching junior high life science and earth science at the local Catholic school, and some of the kids used to come out to visit us on Saturdays. I'd strap Katie into a backpack, and then Peggy, Sally, Katie, and the visiting kids and I would head out into the woods adjoining our property for a nature walk. The students were enthralled to see the wild asparagus ("Is that the same as the kind we eat??") and the squirrel nests high in the trees. ("Squirrels live in NESTS??").

I remember walking into the science classroom one morning and discovering that somebody had thrown clods of dirt into the aquarium. I've never been one to mince words, so I said, "Would the jackass who did this please clean it up? These fish never hurt you. Why kill them by choking off their oxygen?". And that's all I said. The next day, the aquarium water was sparkling clean again, and the fish were swimming around as usual. The kids had worked long and hard after school to move the fish into the reserve clean water, then pour out the muddy water, rinse off the gravel, and put everything back to rights.

More fun...very oldie but very goody

from M'reen, a course....

The Bathtub Test

During a visit to the mental asylum, a visitor asked the Director:
"How do you determine whether or not a patient should be institutionalized?"

"Well," said the Director, "we fill up a bathtub, then we offer a teaspoon, a teacup and a bucket to the patient and ask him or her to empty the bathtub."

"Oh, I understand," said the visitor. "A normal person would use the
bucket because it's bigger than the spoon or the teacup."

"No." said the Director, "A normal person would pull the plug. Do you want a bed near the window?"




ARE YOU GOING TO PASS THIS ON, OR DO YOU WANT THE BED NEXT TO MINE ?

Monday Fun Fest....heh

[Well, everybody else has cool pictures of where they live. I took this one on the front porch of Union Station while waiting in a LOOOOOONG taxi line a week or two ago when everything was messed up on the metro, and I missed the Gally shuttlebus to campus. And no, I have not retired yet. Somebody yesterday said, "You're just staying on for the joy of it!!!" You guessed!!

ANGER MANAGEMENT (thanx to M'reen)

Husband: "When I get mad at you, you never fight back. How do you control your anger?"

Wife: "I clean the toilet."

Husband: "How does that help?"

Wife: "I use your toothbrush."

A CHRISTMAS TRADITION (thanx to Jimmy F)

Even Santa can have a bad day, but I didn't know about the start of this Christmas tradition until reading the following sweet little story:

When 4 of Santa's elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones, Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.

Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her Mom was coming to visit.

This stressed Santa even more.

When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that 3 of them were about to give birth, and 2 had jumped the fence... More stress!!

Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys all over the place.

Frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum.

When he went to the cupboard he discovered that the elves had hidden the liquor...

so there was nothing to drink.

In his frustration he accidentally dropped the cider pot, and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor.

He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw end of the broom.

Just then the doorbell rang, and irritable Santa trudged to the door.

He opened the door and there was a beautiful, little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas,Santa. Isn't it a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to put it?"

And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree...

TEST OF SMARTS (thanx to M'reen)

THIS IS INCREDIBLE....

Read all the Numbers... Slowly and in Order!!

Be Careful not to MISS ANY

1 2

3 4

5 6

7 8

9 10

11 12

13 14 15

16 17 18

19

20

21 22

23 24 25

26 27 28 29

30

Finished?

Scroll down ....................

GOOD WORK ! TOMORROW I'LL SEND

YOU THE ABC's !

It takes so little to amuse

some old codgers

[Oh, this last one didn't work out AT ALL....the numbers are sposed to be scattered all over and take you a few minutes to read in order, and there's sposed to be a LAUGHING BABY and a LAUGHING Jerry (the mouse from Tom & Jerry). Well, picture them in your mind's eye]

Lovely memories

As a variation on her usual Friday love list, Red Nose recently posted a list of memories she loves to…ah, remember. Basically I’m an Eeyore kind of person, but this seems like it might be a good idea. Well, let’s see…

After my grandpa died and left us some $$, my dad learned from his butcher pal Marty that a resort south of Detroit Lakes was for sale. Marty was going to buy one of the individual cottages, and my dad bought another one. I remember the summer day when I was 10 years old and we drove the 46 miles from Fargo to our new cottage on Lake Sallie for the first time. We walked into this four-room cabin that had an ICE BOX, and a little metal sign in the kitchen that said “GUESTS, LIKE FISH, AFTER THREE DAYS BEGIN TO STINK,” and a FIREPLACE in the living room, and a FRONT PORCH that overlooked the lake and had a ROUND TABLE w/six chairs in one corner and a big comfy bed with plain, not box, springs in the other, and a DOCK, and a BOAT, and a PUMP out back, and an OUTHOUSE with SPIDER WEBS complete with SPIDERS THE SIZE OF BING CHERRIES in them. Mom and Dad slept in the only bedroom, and I remember MY MOTHER LAUGHING when she climbed into bed that night and put her cold feet on my dad’s legs to warm them and he jumped. And I remember rolling over onto the extended side of the little metal cot in the living room and CAUSING IT TO TIP SO THAT IT SPILLED ME ONTO THE LINOLEUM FLOOR. And my mother laughing about that, too, and my dad going “heh heh, heh heh.” And the sound of the CHIPMUNKS IN THE ATTIC.

On the day seven years later when Mom, Dad, and I left the cottage to drive me to the convent in St. Paul, I remember the SOUND OF COTTONWOOD TREES singing in the wind gave me a big lump in my throat.

If I do not sound sad over my grandpa's death, it's because I never met him. He was my only living grandparent, and because we had no car during WWII (from the time I was about 5 until I was 10, when he died and the war was over), we did not travel to see him, or he, us. He lived several states away, and I talked to him once a year--always at Christmas. Dad would hand me the phone. "Say Merry Christmas to Grandpa." I'd take the black receiver. "Merry Christmas, Grandpa." Then I'd add, just in case, "This is Mary Ellen." "Well, hello there, Mary Ellen. Have you been a good girl? Did Santa bring you any presents?" "Yes." He'd laugh like my dad--"Heh heh. That's fine. Do you like school?" "Yes." (I lied....) "Bye, Grandpa." And I'd hand the phone back to Dad, who was standing nearby. Whew!

I remember going to bed on my first night in the convent. We slept three or four to a kind of dorm room, where a private space for each bed was created at night by drawing white curtains (they looked like plain old sheets strung up on wires) on three sides (the fourth side being the wall). I had just pulled on my brand new J.C. Penney white flannel nightgown, when the curtain between my bed and the one next to it was yanked back by one of my roommates, grinning and holding up a bottle of orange pop. She had smuggled it in one of the big pockets of her black underskirt to the dorm from the welcoming picnic earlier that day. She had, however, no bottle opener. I took the bottle from her, hooked the edge of the cap on the metal bed frame, and gave a swift downward blow with my other hand. The orange liquid inside the bottle was warm and shaken, and when the cap popped off, the pop gushed all over my clean sheets. It was now the period called Grand Silence (after night prayer until after Mass the following morning) so we didn’t make a peep, but we were laughing so hard our faces were bright red. My roommate took the bottle from my hand and took a swig. Again, the agitated orange pop gushed out of the bottle—all over her clean sheets. We got one new sheet every week in the convent. On laundry day (I think it was Wednesday), you stripped off the bottom sheet and put it in the wash. Then the top sheet became the bottom sheet, and a clean new sheet (placed on the foot of your bed by the senior novice in your dorm) went on top. And so forth. Since the day we entered was a Monday, we skipped the sheet exchange that Wednesday. So my roommate and I slept on at least one of our sticky orange sheets for three weeks running.

I remember the same roommate’s mother also brought her some delicious ripe Concord grapes from their home vine a month later, and my roommate tried to make wine out of them in a plastic dishpan which she kept in the skate room (there was a room for everything in the convent). Somebody smelled the fermenting grapes, however, and poured it all down the big sink.

I remember in the fall when we kids were in our early teens that we would try to smoke anything. When we ran out of butts from our parents’ ashtrays, we’d smoke dried tomato vines (while they lacked nicotine, to us they had some of the real cachet of cigarettes). One day we decided to crumble some dried leaves and roll them in paper. The only paper we had was some brown butcher paper, so we rolled a nice fat cigarette in it. I put one end in my mouth and lit the other with a farmer match. I took a good puff, and the thing burst into flames, singeing the tip of my nose. Nobody noticed my red nose that night at supper. Thank god for hay fever.

I remember getting our first television set when I was a junior in high school. There was hardly any national programming at first but lots of local news and chat programs, TEST PATTERNS (we watched those, too), early pre-Disney cartoons, and old foreign, i.e., British, movies--subtitles had not been invented yet. The only national programming I ever remember watching was the Ed Sullivan show, Red Skelton, and Monsignor Fulton J. Sheen.

In the years before television, all kids played outside, no matter the weather. In the winter, especially on the rare occasions when we had an actual blizzard and the Fargo schools were closed, our mothers would wrap several wool scarves around our heads over our wool hats so that you could see where you were going but your cheeks and nose and forehead and the tips of your ears were protected from frostbite. Still, I remember sitting behind boys in school and noticing the raw sores where the tips of their ears had been frostbitten.

We would dig snow forts in the huge drifts created when people shoveled their sidewalks. Snow forts were like igloos--they were warm! The temperature of the air could be 20 degrees below zero (or worse--the US had not taken up the nasty Canadian habit of reporting winter temperatures as WIND CHILL), but inside the snow fort/igloo, the temperature was more like the temperature of the snow, which is 32 degrees ABOVE ZERO. You could take off your scarves and eat the pure white snow.

Gran’s greatest last-minute gifts!!

Running out of time? Snowed in? Try one of these.

10. Omaha Steaks for all, even the vegetarians.

9. Harry & David’s Moose Munch--hell with the fruit.

8. A year’s supply of peanut butter from Zingerman’s.

7. Contribute the amount you would have spent on new iPods to Oxfam in their name.

6. Rebuilt blender from Amazon.com

5. Matching Easter tablecloth and napkins from Sur la Table outlet.

4. The complete Dixie Chicks ouvre from www.dixiechicks.com.

3. Same as #7, but send the $$ to Natalie Maines’s prisoner fund.

2. Same as #7, but send the $$ to Planned Parenthood.

1. The holiday card, per usual, but DO NOT PUT THE MONEY IN!! Let them wonder if you’re losing your marbles but be too embarrassed to ask.

Tequila Christmas Cake

Once again this holiday, I have had numerous requests for my tequila Christmas cake, so here goes: Please keep in your files as I am getting tired of typing this up every year!

1 cup sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
1 cup water
1 tsp. salt
1 cup brown sugar
Lemon juice
4 large eggs
Nuts
1 bottle tequila
2 cups dried fruit

Sample the tequila to check quality. Take out a large bowl, check the tequila again to be sure it is of the highest quality.

Repeat.

Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.
Add 1 teaspoon of sugar. Beat again.

At this point, it is best to make sure the tequila is sstill OK. Try another cup just in case.

Turn off the mixerer thingy.

Break 2 legs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.

Pick the fruit up off the floor.

Mix on the turner.

If the fried druit getas stuck in the beaterers, just pry it loose with a drewscriver.

Sample the tequila to test for tonsisticity.

Next, sift 2 cups of salt, or something.

Check the tequila.

Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table.

Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find.

Greash the oven.

Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.

Don't forget to beat off the turner

Finally, throw the bowl through the window.

Finish the tequila and wipe the counter with the cat.

Cherry Christmas


[thankx and a tip of the Christmas stocking cap to M'reen]

"i'm dreaming of a white christmas"

this wonderful animated cartoon was created by Joshua Held in 2002. check it out!! if you knew me last year, you probably got it from me by e-mail. it's worth another look.

this year i can HEAR it!! last year, i could only imagine what it sounded like.

Diary of a Snow Shoveler

In honor of this week's theme, which seems to be SNOW and, by some kind of derivation, MINNESOTA, I'm posting the following, which is from a Minnesota website with lots of Minnesota jokes and stories. This post, btw, is dedicated to our bloggy neighbor to the north, Ronniecat, who is working on her own snow shoveling diary.

Diary Of A Snow Shoveler
December 8: 6:00 PM. It started to snow. The first snow of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like a Grandma Moses print. So romantic we felt like newlyweds again. I love snow!

December 9: We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there be a more lovely place in the Whole World? Moving here was the best idea I've ever had. Shoveled snow for the first time in years and felt like a boy again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the snowplow came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again. What a perfect life.

December 12: The sun has melted all our lovely snow. Such a disappointment. My neighbor tells me not to worry, we'll definitely have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says we'll have so much snow by the end of winter, that I'll never want to see snow again. l don't think that's possible. Bob is such a nice man I'm glad he's our neighbor.

December 14: Snow lovely snow! 8" last night. The temperature dropped to -20. The cold makes everything sparkle so. The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. This is the life! The snowplow came back this afternoon and buried everything again. l didn't realize I would have to do quite this much shoveling, but I'll certainly get back in shape this way. I wish l wouldn't huff and puff so.

December 15: 20 inches forecast. Sold my van and bought a 4x4 Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife's car and 2 extra shovels. Stocked the freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out. I think that's silly. We aren't in Alaska, after all.

December 16: Ice storm this morning. Fell on my ass on the ice in the driveway putting down salt. Hurt like hell. The wife laughed for an hour, which I think was very cruel.

December 17: Still way below freezing. Roads are too icy to go anywhere. Electricity was off for 5 hours. I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm. Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to irritate her. Guess I should've bought a wood stove, but won't admit it to her. God I hate it when she's right. I can't believe I'm freezing to death in my own living room.

December 20: Electricity's back on, but had another 14" of damn snow last night. More shoveling. Took all day. Goddamn snowplow came by twice. Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but they said they're too busy playing hockey. I think they're lying. Called the only hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower and they're out. Might have another shipment in March. I think they're lying. Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he's lying.

December 22: Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 more inches of the white sh*t fell today, and it's so cold it probably won't melt till August. Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel and then I had to piss. By the time I got undressed, pissed and dressed again. I was too tired to shovel. Tried to hire Bob who has a plow on his truck for the rest of the winter; but he says he's too busy. I think the asshole is lying.

December 23: Only 2" of snow today. And it warmed up to 0. The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What is she nuts!!! Why didn't she tell me to do that a month ago? She says she did but I think she's lying.

December 24: 6". Snow packed so hard by snowplow, l broke the shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. I know the son of a bitch who drives that snowplow hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling and then he comes down the street at a 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over where I've just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was busy watching for that goddamn snowplow.

December 25: Merry Christmas. 20 more inches of the !=3D@x@!x!x1 slop tonight. Snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil. God I hate the snow! Then the snowplow driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she's an idiot. If I have to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" one more time, I'm going to smack her big ass with the shovel.

December 26: Still snowed in. Why the hell did I ever move here? It was all HER idea. She's really getting on my nerves.

December 27: Temperature dropped to -30 and the pipes froze.

December 28: Warmed up to above -20. Still snowed in. THE B***H is driving me crazy!!!!!

December 29: 10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in. That's the silliest thing I ever heard. How dumb does he think I am?

December 30: Roof caved in. The snow plow driver is suing me for a million dollars. The wife went home to her mother. 9" predicted.

December 31: Set fire to what's left of the house. No more shoveling.

January 8: I feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. Why am I tied to the bed?

-Author Unknown

First Snowfall!!

the first measurable snow fell today. there were five or six flakes falling yesterday morning, but nothing stuck. the photo is the view outside of the student activity center. i took it while i was on my way to the skool trough for a bracing cup of texmex chili at $1.50 a pop!! i also wrote a comment on the "Snows of Yesteryear" post on Red Nose's blog. In the interests of economy and laziness, i'm reprinting that comment here:

the first winter i lived in these parts (having moved here from...tada...minnesota), i was walking to the metro stop one morning and admiring the new snow...the kind where you can still see the greeny grass underneath. the sidewalks were clear, ditto the streets, and i enjoyed the lovely wet flakes falling. i got to eastern market, where my place of employment usually had a shuttlebus waiting, and discovered two fellow shuttlebus passengers laughing and whooping it up. "school's closed," they said. "what?? why?" another bomb threat, no doubt. "cuz of the snow." "the SNOW???!!!" I looked around. there was now a good inch of snow on the sidewalks, though you could still see the grass. oboyoboyoboy....i went home and, heeheeing like a fool, sent emails to my friends back on the tundra: "you won't believe this, but...."

i don't watch local news, but if i wake up and there's a snow flake falling, i dash to the TV to watch the school closings, hoping and praying they'll close mine. that winter, they closed it three times! for hardly any snow, too.

i agree. it's time for another good snowfall. blizzard? don't make me laugh. you don't have blizzards here, and you never will. it's not cold enough (at least 15 below) or windy (at least 20 mph) enough. but boy, you sure close things at the drop of a hat!

luxury bus to nyc

in honor of my latest birthday, cathy got us tickets on the "luxury" bus to gotham city on saturday. up and back in one day, etc. thanks so much, kiddo.

they call it the luxury bus cuz a) it's express, b) they show movies ("ocean's thirteen"), and c) they give you a free bottle of water when you board (after making the online disclaimer that if there isn't any water for a particular trip, they're sorry). for the first two hours or so, either they had the AC on, or the heater wasn't working. i covered my legs with newspapers, which helped, but it was still damn cold.

but they did have a brief rest stop somewhere in delaware or new jersey, which made cathy mighty happy. she says i am part camel because i don't have to go to the restroom every two hours or so.

and of course, the trip took lots longer than i thought it would. i told sally we'd arrive at 12:45, and it was 1:45. what was i thinking? i should have known that my rotten eyesight was wrongwrongwrong--that no bus or car can go from d.c. to 34th street across from macy's in 3 hours. the ride from the exit of the lincoln tunnel to 34th st takes about half an hour all by itself!

we met sally at starbucks on 34th, and in her urban-dwelling style, she grabbed a taxi by just marching--in the street!!--down the block to a cab that was letting someone off. that's my kid! sally took us to ariana, the afghan kabob restaurant on 9th ave between 51st and 52nd st, and had a fabulous minor feast (no grand gorging...we still had another restaurant stop at 5 pm). many thanks, sal. thanks for the elegant french scarf, too.

after lunch, sally caught the bus back to glen ridge, and cathy and i went to the morgan library on mad ave and 36th. we saw the exhibit of 20 actual letters between vincent van gogh and emile bernard. van gogh used to draw sketches of his paintings on these letters, and who ever mounted the exhibit included a miniature of the completed painting in full color. i loved seeing van gogh's handwriting and his inimitable signature. made me want to go find some new cartridges for my fountain pen so i can write real letters!!

then we found a taxi that took us to the wonderful bistro les amis on thompson and spring in soho. my dear friend mary lou lives just a few doors away down thompson street, so we collected her and went to the restaurant for supper. i love the place. and thanks to cathy for that dinner, too! it's quiet and cozy, has delicious food, and the owner's brother always remembers me. and of course, they all love mary lou, who has lived in the same apartment for the past 25 years. (rent control? do the math, baby....)

it wasn't paris-on-my-birthday, but it was lots of fun. we eschewed the luxury bus for the trip back and hopped amtrak, arriving home sometime after 11 pm.

i told cathy that every time we do this one-day round trip gig, i swear i'll never do it again. it's a long trip when you do it twice in one day. even though you snooze off and on, the trip back seems interminable. still, it was lots of fun to be back in gotham city. there were lots of shoppers on the sidewalks...one of the reasons why i never went near manhattan on the weekend when i lived up there.

Night Bus: Clever Devices

The bus is dark now, even before 6 p.m. Here's the young driver arranging her beautiful braids before takeoff. The little sign above the window next to her toward the front of the bus says "Clever Devices." Indeed.

This photo was taken with the same french fry I used on Saturday aft in the bar on Clark St. I do have a better camera at home (NOT the really good one I lost last week), but I forgot to get batteries for it for the second day in a row. Anyway....

I love sitting in the dark bus waiting to for the driver to move out. And I love the young drivers, men and women, for their skill and patience and wry humor and gold jewelry and braids and safe driver patches on their sleeves.

My co-worker Peggy used to say that her youngest, Carl, a sweet-tempered Scandinavian 6-year-old, used to mourn because his blond hair was straight as spun flax and he could not wear it in braids with beads and other ornaments like his schoolmates.

Me, too, Carl.

Don't Mess with Minnesota: The Rules

Rules of Minnesota

1. Pull your droopy pants up. You look like an idiot.

2. Let's get this straight; it's called a "gravel road" because it isn't paved. I drive a pickup truck because I want to. No matter how slow you drive, you're going to get dust on your Lexus. Drive it or get out of the way.

3. You say our lakes smell. They smell like money to us. Get over it.

4. So you have a $60,000 car. We're impressed. We have $250,000 combines that are driven only 3 times a year.

5. So every person in every pickup waves; its called being friendly.
Try to understand the concept.

6. If that cell phone rings while a bunch of ducks are coming in; we WILL shoot it out of your hand. You better hope you don't have it up to your ear at the time.

7. Yeah, we eat walleye & northern pike and love it. You really want sushi & caviar? It's available at the corner bait shop.

8. The "Opener" refers to the first day of deer season. It's a Religious holiday held the closest Saturday to the first of November.

9. We open doors for women. That is applied to all women, regardless of age.

10. No, there's no "vegetarian special" on the menu; you can order the Chef's Salad and pick off the pound of ham & turkey.

11. When we fill out a table, there are three main dishes: meats, vegetables, and breads. We use three spices: Onion, Pepper, and Garlic!

12. You bring "coke" into my house, it better be brown, wet, and served over ice. You bring "Mary Jane" into my house, she better be cute, know how to shoot, drive a truck, and have long hair.

13. College and High School Football is as important here as the Lakers and the Knicks, and a hell of a lot more fun to watch.

14. Yeah, we have golf courses. But don't hit the water hazards --it spooks the fish.

15. Colleges? Try St. Olaf, Concordia, or St. John's. They come outta there with an education plus a love for God and country, and they still wave at passing pickups when they come home for the holidays.

16. We have more folks in the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines, than any other state, so "Don't screw with Minnesota." If you do, you will get whipped by the best.

Maybe the men in Minnesota do open the doors for any woman--like, "You go in first, dear, and catch the first blast of warm, moist indoor air...then stand aside while you're cleaning the frost off your glasses so we can get to the bar first." Last time I was there, they sure as heck didn't stand up to give old ladies their seats on the bus.

Who Knew? Good News from Ode Magazine

This month's ODE magazine, the December 2007 issue, has a marvelous little article, "Ms. CEO," in the "To Possibilities" section.

The article is an excerpt is taken from And now for the good news by Susan Ray, Moment Point Press, 2007.

Ms. Ray quotes Margaret Heffernan's book How She Does It: How Women Entrepreneurs Are Changing the Rules of Business Success (Viking, 2007). To wit:

Forty percent of all privately held companies in the US. are owned or headed by women--a total of 10.4 million firms.

Women-led companies are more likely than others to stay in business for five years, while companies owned by women of color are four times as likely.

Women-owned companies are creating jobs twice as fast as other firms and pay in total more salaries than all the Fortune 500 companies combined.

Every day in the U.S., 420 new women-owned businesses are formed.

These numbers "defy logic," says Heffernan. Women "receive only 5 percent of all venture capital. So not only are women doing really well, but their businesses are thriving when the playing field is tilted against them. That makes these numbers all the more incredible."

Many bloggers are posting thankfulness lists this Thanksgiving weekend, but I'm lumping all of my thanks on ODE for its thoughtful, inspiring content and intriguing ads. It give me more hope and courage than any 16 other publications (especially those in the MSM)combined. Thanks to founder, editor, publisher, and handsome fellow Jurriaan Kamp.

Sandwich Day in Chicago

l to r, Medea, Katie, Ian, Penny

My oldest grandson,Ian, and his wife, Medea, along with Medea's friend Katie and mom, Penny, and yrs truly took refuge yesterday afternoon in a bar on Clark street to stay out of the wind. My original (very old, full of charm) hotel left lots to be desired as a place to gather--mainly space. So later, during Thanksgiving dinner at the Chicago Firehouse (used to be an actual firehouse but now a restaurant), Penny got on the phone and found a nice roomy place downtown:



This is the view from my room of the harbor at sunrise with the Adler Planetarium in the distance. you can't see the sun--my pager camera is feeble indeed--but it was quite lovely.

Snoozeville Chronicle, November 17, 2007 - Part 2

The chronicles of the past week can't omit the big DC tax department scandal, in which it is alleged that the supervisor of the property tax rebate program plus several henchpersons and assorted relatives and friends made off with (in the latest guesstimate) more than $31 million in DC funds. It's the biggest crime of its kind in DC history. The funds made their way into the defendants' bank accounts by way of property tax rebates to phony companies (the DC program for rebating property taxes having been personally designed by the supervisor). Less than $10 million has been accounted for. A raid on the accused supervisor's home revealed a treasure trove including a mink coat, designer purses, something like 68 pairs of shoes, a Mercedes in the garage, and fancy sterling and Faberge items that my mother would call "knick knacks"--but that's all small potatoes compared with the total haul. The woman's purchases at the local Saks 5th Avenue were something like $1.4 million on an annual salary of $81,000, but nobody noticed anything odd about that. Not in this town.

As a resident of this area for more than 10 years, I can't say I'm surprised. Not to point any fingers or anything, but dealing with the people in the DC government, including and especially the property tax department, hasn't always been an edifying experience. Back in the day, if you had to call someone with a question about your property tax, you'd get a loooooong voice mail reply asking you to call back and leave your name, number, and a brief description of your problem. Then the spiel would end with an unctious "Have a blessed day!"

I always felt that if they really wanted to us to have a blessed day, they would have answered the phones.

Anyway, that was how it was until Anthony Williams became mayor. Under Mayor Williams, the DC government employees began to answer their phones in person. Progress!!

Mayor Williams is gone, however, and his successor, Adrian Fenty, has to tame the wild beast of local government.

Maybe Mayor Fenty can get them to keep on answering the phones and stop stealing us blind!!

Slow and steady wins the race here in DC.

Snoozeville Chronicle, November 17, 2007

The sun's going down earlier and earlier....here's the peaceful view from the bridge in late afternoon.

Snoozeville's most colorful local newspaper, the Georgetowner, has a great editorial in this issue (Nov. 15- Nov. 27): "Good God, Mr. President!" Not everybody in this neck of the woods is enamored of "43." Editor Gary Tischler really puts it to the current resident of the W.H.

Tischler is a true patriot and an enterprising journalist. Do you think the WashPost is ever gonna publish news like which popular bottled water is really filtered tap water? He names names!

Newsweek, the WashPost's weekly "news" magazine, has hired none other than Turdblossom himself to write a column. A Huffington Post item puts this forth as the "balance" needed for their other new hire, Markos Moulitsas, creator of Daily Kos.

Last but not least, on Friday afternoon, Chronicle's favorite university threw a good old fashioned party with beer, wine, and snacks to celebrate the news that the Mid States Association had removed it from academic suspension. I waited unsuccessfully to thank the president for bringing not only respectability but also alcohol back to the campus. Imagine! Administrators, faculty, and staff, who not so long ago were avoiding each other, all talking and eating and laughing together. Been a long time since we had any fun over there.

NoWanWriMo

OK, OK...you can't win 'em all.

I give up.

The novel I started for this year's National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) is dead in the water. Maybe I should have stuck with a mystery, like last year, when I won. (To the uninitiated, all you have to do to win NaNoWriMo is write a 50,000 word novel between November 1 and 11:59 pm November 30 and have the word count verified on the NaNoWriMo website.)

Ain't gonna happen this year, barring one of those miracles where you get taken over by a mysterious writing spirit that dictates the book to you while you sleep. All you need to do is get up and write it down the next morning. (Muse, baby...we're 42,000 words behind, and it's 11/16!!)

Anyway, next year, I'll try to remember what I learned last year and this about writing a 50,000 word novel in a short time:

1) Have a lot of characters. Even if you write just a little bit about each one, it adds up.

2) Include at least one nun and one priest. Nuns live in convents and priests live in rectories. (BTW, isn't there something a bit off about calling a priest house a rectory or a priest a rector? Isn't that kind of what the former altar boys have been complaining about? That reminds me....At the bus stop the other night, I saw the guy with the Priests are Pedofiles, Thank You, Vatican signs. I tried to catch up with him, but he moves too fast. I wanted to tell him "The Pope is coming, watch your back!") Anyway, with collective living arrangements, the possibility for lots of characters is pretty much endless.

3) Writing a mystery gives you the option of killing off characters you a) don't like or b) like. Either way, you have a lot of 'splainin to do....more words!!

4) When you need a boost in your word count, go into the file and change all the contractions to two words.

5) Similarly, give each character two names. Jim becomes Jim Bob, etc.

6) No fair watching Project Runway till you're finished with your 50,000 words!! The reruns will be available for the next two or three years, so keep that TV OFF. What ever happened to Kara Saun, by the way? How is it possible that Heidi Klum keeps looking better and better every year, despite the three kids? And where oh where do they get those frumpy Big Women Behind the Scenes in Fashion?

6a) On the other hand, it's neat when they take the contestants to Nina Garcia's office. Going to your character's office is a great ploy...more words. You think I'm kidding? How often have we been to Kinsey Milhone's office? How else do you think Grafton has written almost a whole alphabet's worth of books?

7) Send your characters shopping...with long lists of things to buy.

8) Never, ever read any part of your novel to anyone before you've done all 50,000 words. Reactions to an unfinished novel are just as fatal as reactions to a bee sting or a drug overdose.

No comment....

MY LIVING WILL

Last night, my friend and I were sitting in the living room and I said to her,

"I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle. If that ever happens, just pull the plug."

She got up, unplugged the computer, and threw out my wine.

She's such a bitch.....

Thanx and a tip of the sunbonnet to--who else??--M'reen....

Snoozeville Chronicle, November 10, 2007

John and Izzy (added 11/15)...note the greyer patch where the hair is missing on the left side (her right side) of her muzzle...that's where the rat bit her.

It's quiet today in Snoozeville, but....

Izzy got into a fight with a rat down on 26th Street. Dear old Izzy is pretty lassaize-faire about most things, and most days she's perfectly happy to sit in the front yard and watch the world go by. Rats, however, need to be taken care of, and she did her best. The rat, unfortunately, was big and strong, and it bit off a chunk of Izzy's muzzle. Susan downstairs, who is taking care of her while John is in NYC for the day, took her to the vet for some antibiotic ointment. She has to keep Izzy's lip clean and rub the ointment on her wound. Today was the first time I've ever seen Izzy on a leash. Usually when John takes her for a walk, he lets her run for a bit and then carries her home, but Susan is not taking any more chances with letting her run. Izzy, BTW, is the only dog around who puts Squeak in his place. John once made the mistake of giving Squeak a treat out of Izzy's treat bag, and all heck broke loose. Squeak was mystified, but Izzy has never forgotten. Squeak gives her a wide berth.

While yrs truly was standing in the parking lot getting all the news from Susan, Mike from the other building came out, and we learned that Master Oliver, 4 months, is sleeping from 8 pm to 3 am these days! Much to the relief of Brittany and Mike, they're actually getting some sleep. When our kids started sleeping that many hours at a stretch, I'd wake them up at 11 pm and feed them. That way, they'd sleep until 5 or 6 a.m. Bliss!!

The burning question for today is has Mr. Hyde moved?? We think so.

Minnesota Quarters

GET THIS OUT TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW WHO USES QUARTERS!

Hang on to any of the new Minnesota Quarters. If you have them, they may be worth much more than 25 cents.

The US Mint announced today that it is recalling all of the Minnesota quarters that are part of its program featuring quarters from each state.

This action is being taken after numerous reports that the new quarters will not work in parking meters, toll booths, vending machines, pay phones, or any other coin-operated devices.

The problem lies in the unique design of the Minnesota quarter, which was created by a team of Norwegian specialists.

Apparently the duct tape holding the two dimes and the nickel together keeps jamming up the machines....

H.R. 1955

MAW (Most Arresting Woman) sez "Here's some food for thought!"


MAW first learned of this yesterday morning on Time Goes By

Thought Crime Bill Passes House

While the media were pretending all other news was on hold during the California wildfires, a dangerous bill made it through the House of Representatives and has now been sent to the Senate where it has been referred to the Committee on Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs.

Should a majority in the Senate approve the bill, all it requires to become law is the president’s signature and since it does not deprive children of healthcare, there is no reason to think he would veto it.

WTF!? Nothing in the news about this?

MAW found this link in a Hill blog....

http://community.livejournal.com/amnestyint/128481.html

The U.S. House of Representatives recently passed HR 1955 titled the Violent Radicalization and Homegrown Terrorism Prevention Act of 2007. This bill is one of the most blatant attacks against the Constitution yet and actually defines thought crimes as homegrown terrorism. The Bill passed 404-6.

This Bill criminalizes any act of, or promotion of, anything the Government interprets to be "radical" or "extremist." This may include Animal Rights, Environmentalism, Socialism, Labor Organizing, anything that may upset the status quo, hell anything that may upset a politician. And that's the scary thing here; it's entirely up to State interpretation.

Tortas de Aceite

This is the packaged version

clipped from casaoliver.com

OK, here's a recipe for those yummy Spanish olive oil tortas (courtesy of Susan at wildyeast.com):

125 g. bread or pizza dough (1/2 cup)
1 T. sesame seeds
2 T anise seeds
1/4 c. olive oil
zest of 1/4 lemon in WIDE strips
1.5 t. anisette liqueur
70 g. of flour (1/4 cup)
sugar

toast the seeds in a skillet until they start to pop

heat oil and zest in a nother skillet untl the peel turns BLACK.
remove the peel and let the oil cool

place the bread or pizza dough in a food processor with the seeds, oil, and liqour. pulse until the oil is evenly distributed. Add flour and pulse some more until you have a humongous soft, oily ball.

separate the ball into 8 pieces, and roll each piece to 4"round.

place on a parchment lined baking sheet and sprinkle with sugar

bake 15-17 minutes

turn the oven to BROIL and broil the rounds 5" from the broiler flame until they're toasted and the sugar melts...about 40 seconds

cool and whatever....eat them or store them in something.

NOTE: I HAVE NEVER MADE THESE BEFORE, SO I'M NOT SURE OF THE MEASUREMENTS of the dough and the flour. I think it's ok, but ver vaist. You start with (thawed) frozen bread dough or leftover pizza dough, add a lot of oil, and toasted seeds, run it through a food processor with some flour and then roll out 8 pieces of dough into 4" rounds and bake/broil.

But I know Sally is crazy about these things, and they don't seem too hard to make.

Spaniards love these with coffee in the ayem, i'm told. But of course, how would I know? I never go anywhere, I never do anything.

Hmph....

Rats! New England beat Indianapolis 24-20. Not that I care a whole lot, but I wanted Indianapolis (I still can't get used to that. Indianapolis?) to win because their quarterback, Peyton Manning, is 6'5", and that's the same size as our friend Jim in Mt. Vernon. He used to fill the kitchen doorway completely. What's-his-name of the Patriots is a mere 6'4". And, of course, the Patriots had to gloat all over the place even though they almost lost. "We haven't had game like this all year...it's nice knowing we still know how to win it." Shaddap....

Meanwhile, the Redskins won 23-20 in overtime. They haven't had a real game like that in a long time, either.

Congratulations, Ronniecat!!!

Ronniecat has a swell new job! She'll be doing what she's doing now in the private sector (working with multicultural and community associations) for the Canadian gummint. Her new gig involves lots more money, better benefits--and doing it all in FRENCH! Is this a brave young woman, or what?

The downside will be either a 4-hour commute each day or, alternatively, spending part of each week AWAY from her dear Husband and Cats!! I WAS hoping that on days she picks the commute, she could do so via the fabulous Canadian rail. Four hours of naps, breakfast or dinner (or both) in the cafe car, reading, listening to tunes, and at night sleeping in her own bed.... but ha...Canadian Rail, alas, is no more fabulous in the wilds of New Brunswick than Amtrack is in, say, North Dakota or Iowa. There seems to be but one train per weekday that runs between the town where Ronniecat will start her new job and a station that is relatively close to where she lives now (but not RIGHT IN TOWN).

We've learned to look up to Canada as superior and more civilized than our beloved US of A. But golly whiz...it's THEIR polar bears who are being forced to swim where once they could sit on the ice and have a civilized Canadian dinner of baby seals. You'd think the Canadians'd, um, do something about beefing up their trains instead of bragging about all their new highways.

Oh, they are superior. I'm not being snide. As a Yankee, I've come to expect greater clarity of thought from the rest of the world on the whole issue of global warming. But get this, the Loonie is now worth more than the US peso-formerly-known-as-dollar! Methinks the end is nigh....

Why don't I do this for a living???

Write trashy novels, that is....NANOWRIMO is SO MUCH FUN!--unlike anything i've ever writ before, it's an adventure!!! I'm laughing, too, cuz nobody will ever publish this new one, either. On the other hand, they just might. Then I really will have to move to the south of France....hahahahaha

Following Red Nose's example, I'm gonna post pictures instead of writing much.

l to r: Paul (Jim & Joyce's #2), Peggy (way in back),Katie (sailor collar), Michael (Jim & Joyce's oldest), Tom (in front), Sally

Here's one from the past: my sweet little babies plus two cousins out in front of the pine tree in Grandma Carew's side yard. She planted that tree her own self when it was about the size of Tom, there, being propped up in the front.

Nanowrimo....the gift that keeps on giving

(Prefatory note: I still have dialup, and I have always had two phone lines because this place used to be two apartments until I combined them...such fun).

This morning I discovered why there is such terrible interference on the phone line in my bedroom. I've lived in this condo for 10 years and never knew about the interference. As the deaf would sign, making a flicking gesture as if knocking crumbs off both shoulders simultaneously, it was "not my problem."

This spring, however, I got a cochlear implant and when I attempted to talk on the phone for the first time in 40+ years, I discovered the interference is so bad on that telephone, I can't talk on it. So I bought a second phone and installed it in the den, where it was sharing phone line #2 with my laptop.

Long story short, I started Nanowrimo today and,in a great burst of laziness, decided to move my laptop into the bedroom so i could write in bed. Lots of authors do this, I've heard. And guess what? To my astonishment, the little airport icon at the top of my screen was lit up and all the bars were solid. If you have an iBook, you will know wot I'm talking about. I clicked the airport icon, and discovered it was ON!! High speed internet, just like Starbucks!! There actually are about 5 or 6 airports for me to take off from, too.

It's been an amazing day! Not only did I stay awake to finish my daily quota of fiction, I downloaded all the software repairs and upgrades that have been nagging at me weekly since last year in less time than it took to clean and slice a quart of strawberries! Usually, it would take all day to download ONE upgrade, and I'd have to sit there and poke the return button every time the dialup connection threatened to cut off.

I got SNOOD on trial, too, and some kind of clip thing that lets me cut clippings online and, once the copyright stuff has been taken care of, post them on my blog or email them or just save them. (Great! Electronic clutter, too!!)

Best fun on the phone for the week: As if being connected at high speed were not enough excitement, I got a NOTHER call from a telemarketer today, and I neglected to turn on my phone coil (more technology)...anyway, I had to ask him to repeat several times, and when he finally ast me to give him the "make and model #" of...??? (I think it was my car, which I sold back in 1991). When I said "make and model of what?" he hung up on me!!! Tsk. I never hang up on telemarketers. I just tell them I'm very sorry but I'm not interested in whatever it is they're calling for, and that's that.

Boo!!

Our boss let us out early this afternoon so we could go home and prepare for the trick-or-treaters. Apparently the radio commentators were full of concern that there is now so much traffic leaving DC at the end of the day that people would not get home in time to be there when the little goblins came calling. Quel horror!!

Anyway, we don't get trick or treaters in this neighborhood, for some reason. On the way home, though, I did pass throngs of lovely students, some still in uniform, from the Visitation School (plus a few boyfriends) calling at the embassies on Massachusetts Avenue. Many were in costume (a willowy tiger wearing a ruffled housecoat stood out, as did Hansel, one of the boyfriends, and Gretel).

The Lazy Gardener posted George's prize-winning pumpkin from last year on her blog today, so I dug through iPhoto and found the scariest thing I have, taken last month at the peace march. They're still out there, too!! Beware!!!

Mystery Letter

Periodically, now that I'm not on hiatus any more, I'm going to post selected emails to persons unknown to most of you. It saves wear and tear on my computer keys if I get more mileage out of my typing. Here goes:

You know, you have no need to apologize to anyone, least of all a computer tech. That's how they earn their $$. I toil on here with a stupid dialup connection and am settling for the bare minimum of competence, whereas you are very skillful and artistic with your blog, and I am much impressed.

We do NOT have any heat yet, but we do have a whole condo full of lawyers and other very smart people who are amazed and incensed that we again have MICE!!! They scream, "We had mice LAST YEAR, too!!!" Sweet jaysus.....we have grown so far from living in harmony with nature. Anyway, they are somewhat mollified this evening now that poison has been introduced to the INSIDE of the condo instead of just to the rat boxes outside. I seem to be the only one who is NOT upset by the mice but who IS upset by their bringing that effing poison inside!!! I need to move to my own house, where I can have all the mice i want. Don and I used to feed them when we lived in our first house in Bismarck, and the upstairs apartment was vacant. We'd be sitting downstairs watching TV and eating popcorn, and pretty soon, little mice would creep under the living room door from the hallway. We'd toss a kernel of popcorn or two into the dark corner by the door, and pretty soon one mouse'd be sitting up gnawing away on it. They DO come inside when it gets cold.

Yes, nanowrimo starts THURSDAY of this week. I updated my writer profile today to show that i am 70, not 69, and that i entered and won nanowrimo in 2006. blogger x is on year 5 or 6!!! mercy! and i think she published one of the year's labors herself, sort of. Wot a good idea! Maybe I'll publish that stinker from last year, too. It's mystery novel. maybe i can write one this year that will be even worse!! "Stinker II, the Sequel"

Hail to the Redskins!

On Saturday this past weekend in Frederick, MD, the Maryland School for the Deaf Orioles played the California School for the Deaf Eagles of Fremont, CA. The score??

MSD Orioles 66
CSD Eagles 0


(MSD students celebrating something. Photo from http://www.msd.edu/)


I'm very happy to report that our dear Redskins did BETTER THAN the CSD Eagles yesterday!!! They actually scored some points on their opponent (the Boston Patriots)!! The score??

Patriots 52
Redskins 7

(Photos, etc.: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/sports/redskins/index.html?nid=roll_redskins)

Except, I have a deal with the PTB (Powers That Be). If I DON'T WATCH THE GAME, the Redskins will win. Ahem. I kept my part of the bargain.

Unsolicited Medical Testimony

(l to r: My pharmacy, featuring CardioRenew & favorite old mug)

OK...here's how I handle various ailments. Works for me!

Sore throat/bronchitis

When I lived in the Midwest, I had pneumonia about 5-6 times, and I do everything I can to keep a sore throat from escalating.

1) At the very first hint of a sore throat, I count back 17.5 hours (or multiples thereof...like 35 hours). If I can think of something that upset me about that time, I go into the upset and experience it again--feel it! Then, if I have some around, I add one envelope of Emergen-C to a personal-size bottle of Gator Ade or the like and drink it down. Usually, this will be all I need to kill the sore throat before it gets its hooks into me.

2) If it's too late--I forget or am too busy to do #1--and the sore throat takes hold, I DON'T GO TO WORK. No sense spreading it to everyone else. I stay home and gargle with warm salt water. That will usually stop it from hurting for a period of time. When it starts to hurt again, I gargle again and keep doing this until the pain's gone.

3) However, if it's a major bug, and I can feel it creeping down into my chest, I mix a batch of the following:
Into my favorite coffee mug (this is very important, somehow...I am not one for possessions, but a few crockery gifts have been with me for a long time, and they have taken on spirchal powers), I squeeze one lemon (or half), press 1 clove (or 2) of garlic, add a good squirt or two of honey (I like Trader Joe's mesquite honey), and pour in boiling water. (My ex-husband used to like to add whiskey to this, but if I'm sick, whiskey only makes me sicker...it hustles a sore throat straight down into my chest.) I stir it up and drink it. I do this several times a day. Kept myself alive with this during a bad bout of bronchitis in MN once when it was too cold and I was too sick to get out to a doctor. My friend Kimela drove over from St. Paul with a bag of lemons and a couple bulbs of garlic and told me about this. It worked! The coup de grace was when my brother's neighbor Jean brought over a pot of homemade chicken soup and a batch of chocolate chip cookies. I was healed! Never underestimate the power of homemade soup and cookies.

Clogged arteries

I got three stents a couple of years ago when my coronary arteries were so blocked I couldn't even walk the six blocks to Barnes & Noble without having to stop to rest every other block.

If you have read anything about stents, you probably know that the majority of them fill up again, and they have to be redone...and when they run out of artery space to put in new ones, they have to do the whole bypass thing.

Well, sure enough, some time after I got the stents, the pain and breathlessness started coming back. I got online and googled for a nonsurgical cure. And I discovered CardioRenew. Been taking it ever since, and my arteries, last anyone looked, not only had NO evidence of occlusion, I didn't even have any scars from the stent procedures! And I could perform on the hamster wheel at 150% of what would be expected for someone my age with NO PAIN or breathlessness. CardioRenew is just EDTA...a simple amino acid, safe enough to be used as a preservative in babyfood. It doesn't react with any other medications, and the price of a year's supply (including shipping) has doubled since I got my stents, but it's still in the low 3 figures!!!

Of course, everyone needs to follow their own lights in all of this, but that's my point.

Now....if I could only lose 30 pounds!!!!

Welcome to Red Nose!

Xtreme English has a new blog fave, Red Nose, which originates in the DC metropolitan area. The following is ad copy:

For the best in fun commentary, come to the City of Satan (as I-kissed-George-W-Bush John McCain calls it)!!

The blogger, Bozoette, has been a real clown--a graduate of Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey Clown College--and she loves and writes about the innermost secret of clown humor: everyday life (plus the wins and losses of our semi-beloved bumblers, the Redskins).

Her current post includes a Love List that includes, but is not limited to, the following entries:

•Macaroni and cheese - homemade, out of a box, from the cafeteria; I don't care. I love it.
•Hot chocolate with whipped cream.
•Coffee with whipped cream.
•Oh heck, whipped cream.
•Mojitos that do not taste like Scope.
•Tres Leches cake.

Is this our kinda person or wot??? She joins Xtreme English's list of authentic original blog peeps. Speaking of whom, Mad Cabby is out of the hospital (if you can believe Pastor Joe) and mending (ditto), and Peggy has quit throwing out imperfectly good chocolate chip cookies to the chickens over there in Scotland.

Red Nose was kind enough to review Xtreme English in As Time Goes By's recent post, Getting to Know the Elderblogger's List. Just scroll waaay down.

Xtreme English Goes Knuts!!

[I had a long, interesting discussion with Cathy t'other day on whether a pun is a metaphor (she says yes; I say not really, and I do b'lieve I'm right--it's WORD PLAY). Thus, I could not resist making the pun in the title of this post--and wouldn't you know it, it appears the knitters in Dish and Wash Cloth Mania are crazy about punning!]

Anyway, the author of Xtreme English is doing her best to be relevant to her audience, which includes at least two or three very skilled knitters, weavers, and other fabric wranglers. Thus, she is adding a great, handy blog to her list of favorites: Dish and Wash Cloth Mania. The blog, discovered on Ideal Bite, Xtreme's favorite green blog (also among the favorites), is about how to knit your own dishcloths and washcloths!!. There's loads of patterns, too, but I haven't checked it all out yet.

Finally! a knitting blog even I can grasp, out of which I and others similarly disfunctional with knitting needles possibly make something!! I must say, however, that on further investigation, even this looks pretty hard (cf. the bee stitch...tsk...who thinks of these things??)

The Egg Lady as a Bonny Young Lass....

After supper (or was it before breakfast? both times, it was always cold and dark!!), Peggy would disappear out the back door and return with her hands frozen but filled with eggs from her chickens. I don't know how many she had during the winter, but it was fewer than in the summer months, right? She just kept a few to lay eggs for the household. They were the very best eggs I've ever had.

I don't remember that Phoebe and Alice laid one egg in their tenure at the log house, do you, Peg? They were too busy running from Snowball by day and the owls by night.

The Egg Lady's blog is featuring (after the lovely shot of the loo with spider) her current crop of hens these days, and it reminded me of this picture.

Happy Birthday, Sally!

Sally was delivered on this day in Bismarck, ND, by a thoracic surgeon (in the absence of our family doctor, who had slipped out for supper). It was his first delivery since medical school, and there was much laughing, "way to go!"-ing, and back patting by the nurses. Nobody told little Sally, awake and sucking her fingers, that the excitement wasn't just for her. She has had a sunny outlook ever since. Happy birthday, sweetheart!

WDC Peace March 9/15/07--part 4 (photos)

"Make levees, not war"

"Kuchinich 2008"--little sign, great big guy

"Fake President, Fake Airman, Fake Cowboy, Fake Christian, Fake...Fake...Fake..."

"Oh, nooooo...Bush Again"

WDC Peace March 9/15/07--part 3

Before anyone complains about the execution here, they should go take a look at early Mickey Mouse cartoons or early "Peanuts" strips. Xtreme English promises to do better with the text...just slow down a little so she gets it right the first time. Katie has always been excellent at printing by hand, and Sally has always been a great cartoonist, and Peggy can write circles around all of us, although Tom is the best writer of all. He just lost his crayon when he joined the Navy during the first Gulf War. His teachers used to give him "C's" on his compositions, then they'd cross that out and give him an "A." In third grade, a teacher took a look at my drawing, dug her fingernails into my shoulder, and hissed, "There's NO SUCH THING AS A PURPLE CAT!!!" Creepy old trout. In art, what counts, what's fun, what's most rewarding is just DOING IT! So go draw something!!

WDC Peace March 9/15/07--part 2

WDC Peace March photos, 9/15/07--part 1

"another pissed-off redhead for peace" (relative of ex-Shammy?)
Drummers greeting arriving marchers

The crowd begins to assemble

here comes code pink!

One more, then back to hiatus

When I took the photo of Tom in his Navy uniform out of the frame to scan it, one of my missing treasures appeared: a photograph of the baseball team from St. Thomas parish in Ann Arbor, MI, and a visiting team from China.

My grandpa, John William Dwyer, was coach of St Thomas, and the two handsome guys still wholly visible on the right side of the top row are my Uncle Edgar (no cap) and my dad, Francis Thomas Dwyer. (Tom the birthday boy, Thomas Murray Carew, in the post just before this was named for my dad and his other grandfather, James Murray Carew.)

It's impossible to read the typeset words under the photo, but I've got my magnifying glass out, and it reads:

"St. Thomas and Chinese University teams.
Standing: J.W. Dwyer, Esq., Leo Ritz, Charlie Baribeau, Harry Gillen (?), George Kratzmiller (?), Everett Given, Edgar Dwyer, Francis Dwyer, and (partially hidden)
Jack Walsh,
Seated: Chinese University ball team."

Where the Chinese University was, and why their baseball team was in Ann Arbor, are mysteries that I hope other family members (attention Susan!) can help solve. The year was probably sometime around 1910, which would make my dad about 16. My brother Paul sent me this photocopy about 1996-1998, while I was in NYC. At least, I think that's when he sent it.

OK, OK...just one*, then back to vacation....

VE ARE PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE LUTRAN AIR IS NOW OPERATING FROM DULUT AIRPORT. YA SHURE, YA BETCHA! DIS IS DA LATEST AIR SERVICE TO SPROUT UP IN MINNYSOTA. ALSO SERVING VISCONSIN and NORT AND SOUT DAKOTA.

If you are travelin soon, consider Lutran Air, DA no-frills airline. You're all in DA same boat on Lutran Air, where flyin is a upliftin experience. Der is no first class on any Lutran Air flight.

Meals are potluck.
Rows 1-6, bring rolls;
7-15, bring a salad;
16-21, hot dish, and
22-30, a dessert.

Basses and tenors please sit in DA rear of DA aircraft. Everyone is responsible for his or her own baggage.

All fares are by free will-offering and DA plane will not land 'til DA budget is met.

Pay attention now to your flight attendant, who will acquaint you wit DA safety system aboard dis Lutran Air 599.

Okay den, listen up you guys I'm only gonna say dis vonce. In DA event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, I am frankly going to be real surprised and so vill Captain Olson, because we fly right around two tousand feet, so loss of cabin pressure would probably mean DA Second Coming or something of dat nature, and I vouldn't bodar with doze liddle masks on DA rubber tubes. You're gonna have bigger tings to vorry about den dat. Yust stuff doze back up in dair little holes. Probably DA masks fell out because of turbulence which, to be honest wit you, we're going to have quite a bit of at two tousand feet, sort a like driving across a plowed field, but after a while you get used to it.

In DA event of a water landing, I'd say forget it. Start saying DA Lord's Prayer and yust hope you get to DA part about forgive us our sins as we forgive doze who sin against us, which some people say "trespass against us," which isn't right, but vut can you do?

Da use of cell phones on DA plane is strictly forbidden, not because day may confuse DA plane's navigation system, which is seat of DA pants all DA way. No, it's because cell phones are a pain in DA wazoo, and if God meant you to use a cell phone, He vould have put your mout on DA side of your head.

Ve start lunch right about noon and it's buffet style wit DA coffee pot up front. Den ve'll have DA hymn sing; hymnals are in DA seat pocket in front of you. Don't take yours wit you when you go or I am going to be real upset and I am not kiddin!

Right now I'll say Grace:

Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest
And let deze gifts to us be blessed.
Fadar, Son, and Holy Ghost,
May we land in Dulut or pretty close.

Amen!"

* Tanks an a tip o' the sun bonnet to M'reen. God bless her real good!

On vacation

Xtreme English will be on hiatus until October or so. For an interesting read, check out Writers Almanac.

Anon,
XE

"Falling for Grace"

Tribeca Film Festival this year showed "Falling for Grace," a remarkably enjoyable romantic comedy produced, written, and directed by--and starring!--Fay Ann Lee. Besides Lee, who plays Grace, the cast also includes Margaret Cho, Gale Harold, and Christine Baranski. The movie played in DC this past Saturday at the AMC Loews Dupont 5 theater just off Dupont Circle.

After the movie finished, Lee herself stood up before the audience for a surprise Q and A session about the movie, her life, Chinatown, the importance of family. She's as beautiful and articulate in real life as she is in the movie.

The movie has shown in only two places so far--San Francisco and Washington DC--but it's gotten good reviews since airing at Tribeca (see "Press" section in the official website).

Somebody in the reviews said Lee may be the Asian Julia Roberts. I dunno....did Julia Roberts write, produce, direct, and star in her first movie? Lee's a phenomenon. The movie's still here, and if anyone from DC reads this post, do yourself a favor and go see it. You can bring the kids...the movie has a PG-13 rating.