Rainy Memorial Day

It's Monday, the last day of May and Memorial Day -- when we remember all the veterans of our country and the tremendous contributions they have made for us and our freedoms, here in the United States and around the world.

It's gray, raining and I am so happy to be blogging here at our computer, in my jammies and my little white socks. My body is still so tired and sore that I can no more think about landscaping work then I can think about walking to the moon.

(Now, flying to the moon is an altogether different matter!)

I finally opened up one of my Christmas gifts, from S, from Christmas before last (2003); the graphics software app, Adobe Illustrator. I poked around it a bit, but I can see there are enough differences between that and Photoshop, I'll have to be careful it doesn't mess me up. It reminds me of high school, when after taking three years of Spanish (and getting fairly comfortable with it), I had a real brain fart and decided to take French my senior year. Totally messed me up. I still get French and Spanish words confused to this day!

Any way, I must proceed a bit carefully.

I want to call Kevin this morning and thank him again for all the incredible help that he gave us, both Saturday and yesterday. Oh my goodness; I can't even imagine where we would be without his help!

This morning, before the rain, the birds were singing their hearts out and I stopped, listened and gave thanks for them. What a gift to hear such lovely music, coming from such small creatures, without stereos or mp3s, no exchange of money involved, no expectations of anything in return. Truly a gift!

Have a great day!

May be ignorant, but am not stupid

It's midnight, Sunday night and I'm trying to recover quickly from the past three days, so I can enjoy tomorrow.

What am I trying to recover from?

Well, it all began last Tuesday when I asked S if she had something special she wanted to do this weekend. "Yes, I'd like for us to build that retaining wall we've brainstormed about and then plant the river birch tree. It looks stressed. The leaves are starting to turn yellow."

Friday, being the early-bird-gets-the-worm people that we are, we hit the local cement and block company about 3 o'clock in the afternoon. We quickly roughed out a design and bought half a yard of crushed limestone, 160 decorative blocks (each weighing 25 pounds) and nine square paver stones (each weighing 40 pounds). Mind you, we only had S's small truck to transport all this material, weighing well over 4000 pounds. And, of course, it was too late to have the cement company deliver the blocks because it was 3 o'clock on the afternoon before a holiday weekend. Such good planners we are!

We hauled the crushed limestone home first. That was only about 600 pounds. We shoveled, heaved and hoved it out of the truck bed and onto the driveway. Hurry, hurry, we need to get back before five o'clock to the cement company so the hi-lo driver can load at least half of the 160 blocks onto the truck bed.

Back to the cement yard we go. Nope, the hi-lo driver can't load the pallet with 3,000 pounds of block on our truck bed because it's too narrow. We'll have to load them by hand; me and S, S and me. No matter how I say it, it was still just the two of us.

To our credit, we actually loaded 97 blocks, well over 2000 pounds of concrete, in about 30 minutes. We worked together, we worked smart and we worked hard. The shocks on the truck were in shock I think. The truck was loaded.

We drove home carefully and then unloaded the 97 blocks, weighing well over 2000 pounds. By this time, my muscles were screaming at me, "Who the hell do you think you are? A young, buff stevedore?"

We still had the other half of the blocks back at the cement yard, but by this time it was 6:30 p.m. and we had dinner plans with friends at 8:00. The blocks would have to wait until tomorrow.

Saturday afternoon about 2 (again the early-bird pattern; see what I mean?) we loaded up the other 2000 pounds of block, hoping against hope that no police officer would pull up and inquire why we were taking material out of the cement yard when they were obviously closed. They didn't pull up and we did take the rest of our blocks.

Today was the day to actually begin building the wall. Sadly, my muscles were so fatigued that they began to shake after only a little bit of lifting.

There are angels on Earth though, and we had one help us this weekend in the form of our friend, Kevin. Kevin helped trench out the base, he was on his hands and knees leveling the first course, he toted and lifted and smoothed and did way more than any one could hope for from a friend.

If it weren't for Kevin, I'd be still trying to find the strength to wield a shovel and we'd be still trying to trench out the wall's outline. Thank you, thank you, a thousand thank-you's, Kevin!

And this whole experience has left me feeling humbled, ignorant and stupid.

Mandalas and more mandalas . . .

In part to exercise my atrophying creative muscles and in part to broaden some limited computer skills, I started creating mandalas in one software, exporting them to another, playing and modifying them and then publishing them to a sister website DragonPix. Please go take a look. I welcome any and all comments (but please be gentle if you're not kind).

I spent a little time this morning Googling on what mandalas are/may be/mean to others. Here's what I found:

from Sacred Circles, Debbie Ann Brett says "Mandalas are used world-wide in Tibetan rituals, medicine wheel ceremonies, and Jungian therapy, as symbolic representations of the Cosmos as it relates to the Self. The word mandala comes from a Sanskrit root meaning enclosing the essence."

Here's another quote from Jonathan Quintin that I like:

"The word mandala arises from the Sanskrit and means sacred circle. The circle symbolizes the womb of creation; and mandalas are geometric designs that are made through uniform divisions of the circle. The shapes that are formed from these divisions are symbols that embody the mathematical principles found throughout creation. They reveal the inner workings of nature and the inherent order of the universe.
. . .
Mandalas offer a way to engage with the inherent harmony and balance of nature. They bring the principles of nature into our field of awareness. For thousands of years, mandala imagery has served as a means to an expanded way of thinking. The images transcend language and the rational mind. They bring about a certain wisdom of universal knowledge and a deeper understanding of human consciousness."

Yes. Yes.

Frustration is the mother of new blogs . . .

I want to post the images that I create on my blog. I find going through hello.com and picasa.net kind of a pain. Plus, I don't want to download those programs on my computer here at work. Arrrgh!

In my frustration, I have created another blog, Calypso Dragon 13 Images. Hopefully, I can find easier ways to post my Photoshop stuff and photos to this blog.

Don't ask me how. But I will.

Happy Lunch

S was in the big city today. She called me unexpectedly and invited me to join her at our little house for an impromptu lunch -- which I accepted happily. I made ham and provolone sandwiches on low-carb bread with Trader Joe's wasabi mayonnaise . . . oh yes, and we each drank a cold beer. We sat out in the back yard, under the aluminum awning talking about the grass and the roses and the dog and I fell in love with her all over again.

ewww . . . Fred & George Weasley!

. . . and if you didn't believe my own description, check out what my Harry Potter Personality Test says:

Harry Potter Personality Quiz by Pirate Monkeys Inc.

more storms and more toes

I swear that Yoshkie brought all those incredible thunderstorms and rain with him, dragging them behind his fifteen-year-old Honda Accord, through the waters of Lake Michigan and the energy of the Windy City. Voila! -- instant storms!

I don't think I'd like to live in a place where it rains and thunders and lightnings every day!

And if all these storms weren't enough, I have another toe acting up, actually, acting in, as in "in-grown." Ewwww! Sorry, but that is the truth of the matter. My other toes are still sore and bruised and healing . . . and now I need to have another one done! Geez!

testing out another thing

Part of my trying to learn about weblogging and CSS and templates is understanding how blogger names things. Like, if I want to put a link back to an earlier posting of mine, say May 1st, will this work?

The world washed clean

Me and the dog, Cissy, shared a wild, wonderful night of thunder, lightning and rain last night.

I was reading in bed around 11 (Delta Wedding by Eudora Welty). I heard this sound that I couldn't identify, so I put down my book and listened more closely. Ahh, now I know what it is! Plunk -- plunk -- plunk; the sound of raindrops! I love to listen to rain while I'm in bed. The sound of drops hitting the aluminum awning over the bedroom windows accelerated. I turned off the light and conked out.

Then I awoke, hearing the dog's tags clinking and her nails clicking the hardwood floors. She was in our bedroom (usually, a no-no), trying to find a "safe" place, as she is terrified of thunder. If she had it her way, any time it thunders, she would become a 70-pound lapdog. I pulled her doggie bed into our room, told her in my reassuring-mother-voice that it would be okay and climbed back into bed.

What a show Mother Nature provided! It rained and then it really rained. It boomed and the lightning cracked. Cisco audibly shuddered! The rain would die down and then come back for another downpour. Rather than being dark, our little house was lit up inside by all the light outside! I sat in the living room for awhile and felt the cool air pouring in through the cracked-open window. Cisco lay on the rug at my feet.

At two, I was wide awake and thought about calling S to see if she, too, was enjoying the show and would she like to talk? But, I decided not to chance waking her up, and finally climbed back into bed, hugged the fat pillow, and fell asleep.

This morning, the air flowing in through the bedroom window was cool. My sense was that the world had been washed clean.

A silvery gray epiphany

I guess, sometimes, I'm rather thick.

My daughter, Lina, has told been telling me for months, if not for several years now, how pretty my hair looks, as it turns from light brown to this silvery-gray color.

My hairdresser and those around her always compliment me on the pretty coloring of my hair.

Even my dad, who never comments on this daughter's appearance(!), recently asked me if that was my natural hair color? Uhhh . . . yeah!

Last night, for some unknown reason, I decided to brush my hair before taking the dog for a walk. I know -- why then? -- I dunno. Which I proceeded to do, enjoying the sensory pleasure of having my hair stroked. I picked up a hand-held mirror, turned around and held it up to my head, turning this way and that. OH--MY--GOSH ! !. . . my hair is not only gray, but silver and positively white in some areas! It's mostly on the top and the sides of my head; the back and undersides of my hair are still medium brown, although they look quite dark in comparison to the silvery stuff. I exclaimed out loud, to no one but myself, at the contrast.

Will wonders never cease? A silvery gray epiphany . . .

Back up your blog template!!

To all you unknowing bloggers and non-reading readers of my blog, back up your blog template. That is, make a copy of it regularly, date it and save it.

While I wasn't looking, gremlins crept in and, for all intents and purposes, wiped out my lovingly crafted and homemade template. While it wasn't sophisticated or even pretty, dammit, it was mine!

I did send a note to Blogger support, but they're busy answering other bloggers who probably weren't so lucky as to have an older-edition-template backup.

Good-bye, Tony Randall

I was sorry to hear of Tony Randall's death. I always enjoyed listening to him in TV interviews or late-night talk shows.

Secretly, I always hoped that he was a gay man. But I find out from Blog of Death that he was married to his college sweetheart for 54 years. And then, to prove he was really heterosexual, he married (at the age of 75) someone 50 years his junior, and proceeded to have two children before he was 80. Where would those little souls be without Viagra?

Blog of Death quotes Tony on funerals:

Funerals should be planned as a celebration of life and "a touch of humor doesn't hurt a bit."

I'll drink to that!

Economic forces

My son, Yosh, encourages me to read the Economist. Ever since college, he has been skeptical of many publications' true objectivity, but the Economist has held fast in his perceptions.

Today, I'm reading about "The Great Fall of China."

This article states that China's economy is growing too fast for comfort, and it could hurt other countries if it slows down too fast.

For example, the article states, "During the past three years China has accounted for one-third of global economic growth (measured at purchasing-power parity), twice as much as America." Wow -- one-third of global economic growth?

And then this:

"China's scorching growth has helped to prop up other economies by sucking in imports, which surged by 40% last year alone. While America's industrial output has shrunk over the past three years, China's has increased by almost 50%. As a result, its demand for commodities has skyrocketed, driving up prices. Last year it consumed 40% of the world's output of cement. It also accounted for one-third of the growth in global oil consumption, 90% of the growth in world steel demand, and more than the whole of the increase in copper demand."

The Economist article goes on to state that the biggest losers from a "hard landing" in China would be its Asian neighbors. Japan, along with other countries in the region, have been much too dependent on exports to China.

I am trying to develop a larger view, a world view, if you will, of the economic forces that play out in my life. When I worry about losing my contract job to someone in India or I have to pay over $2.00 per gallon for gasoline, these are economic forces and they are not coming out of a vacuum. They have very real origins in very real geographic places in some other part of the globe. I need to pay attention to them.

This is a test

I can't seem to access my blog. What's going on??

A transformation

I work in the same area as a woman named Tina. Recently, Tina cut her hair short and I complimented her on it.

Within the past two or three weeks, Tina began wearing a head scarf, covering her hair and head entirely. I wanted to ask her about it, but no good opportunity presented itself.

This afternoon, I met Tina at the copier and finally asked her if she had undergone some "transformation," based on her new head covering? She smiled and told me that she liked the term, "transformation." She told me that she is a Muslim, and that the Qur'an instructs women to cover themselves around men. Only recently, has she decided to do that.

I asked her what covering her head means to her. She said that it identifies her to others as a Muslim woman, and it represents a shift for her in the way that she sees herself. She said she was a little bit nervous about how others would see her, especially her family, as well as friends and people at work. She told me that I was only the third person at work to ask her about her headscarf. She said that many people look at her inquiringly, but do not ask.

Finally, I asked her if there is an Arabic word for her headscarf? She told me that it is hijab.

These verses from the Qur'an contain two main injunctions:

(1). A woman should not show her beauty or adornments except what appears by uncontrolled factors such as the wind blowing her clothes, and

(2). the head covers should be drawn so as to cover the hair, the neck and the bosom.

Tina also pointed out to me that she is now wearing long-sleeve tops and long skirts to cover her legs. I had not picked up on the long-sleeved clothing. When I asked her if she has found it a difficult transition, physically, wearing a hajib, she replied that wearing long-sleeved tops has been the more difficult change for her.

"You really are already married"

From the New York Times, quoting Boston's City Clerk, Rosaria E. Salerno:

"Your marriage is an example to others of how life is supposed to work," Rosaria E. Salerno, Boston's city clerk, told Joe Rogers and Tom Weikle, choking with emotion as she married the longtime couple in City Hall's first same-sex ceremony Monday morning. "You really are already married. The only thing that's been wrong with your marriage, if I can put it that way, is that it hasn't been public. And this is so exciting because the moment I put my name on that piece of paper, your marriage is public."

YES!!

"The Edukators"

This sounds like the type of film that we'll never see at our local theater:

A German film about a group of youths who dream of changing the world energized the Cannes film festival Monday, putting it among the frontrunners for the Palme d'Or best film award.

Adding to the strong political current running through this year's festival, ... 28-year-old director Hans Weingartner brings "The Edukators."

The first German film to compete in Cannes in 11 years, it tells the story of three idealistic youths who break into rich people's villas and move around their furniture, leaving behind notes with messages such as: "You have too much money."

Their aim is not to steal from the rich to give to the poor, but to make their targets question their privileges. When they are surprised by one of the homeowners, they kidnap him and are forced to put their ideals into practice.

The Austrian-born director, who is also a qualified neurosurgeon, said the story was inspired by his own frustration at the lack of political ideals among his generation and the suffocating impact of advertising and media images.

"We don't know where to put our revolutionary energy and we don't know how to fight the system because we can't grab it, we don't know how to attack it," he said. "The system has become so invulnerable because it sells revolution to us."

Weingartner avoids a simplistic ending, but leaves open the possibility that each of them is changed by the experience.

"I am not calling for revolution with this film. It was much more important to me to emphasize how important it is to be critical and to question the status quo," he said.

Read more about it from Reuters.

following in historic footsteps

The State of Massachusetts, today, begins marrying same-sex couples, following in the footsteps of the city of San Francisco, where over three thousand lesbian and gay couples married in February and March of 2004.

Here is what couples need to do:

APPLICATION

Couples must submit a license application, blood test results and fee to any of 351 Massachusetts city or town clerk's offices. Fees are generally $10 to $30.

Most clerk's offices will begin taking applications at the normal start of business Monday. The famously liberal city of Cambridge will take applications from 12:01 a.m. (0401 GMT)

Applicants must swear that the information in the form is true and no legal impediment exists to their marriage.

ELIGIBILITY

A 91-year-old state law says nonresidents may not marry in Massachusetts if their marriage would be "void" at home. Citing that law, Gov. Mitt Romney has instructed clerks to deny licenses to same-sex couples from other states.

Some clerks, noting the 1913 law had not been enforced for years for heterosexuals, have said they will issue licenses to out-of-state couples.

THREE-DAY WAITING PERIOD

Once an application is filed, couples must wait three days to marry, although they may ask a court to waive the waiting period. The fee for such a waiver generally runs from $65 to $195. Judges typically grant the waiver.
It is expected couples will begin asking for waivers when courthouses open for business Monday morning.

CEREMONY

Once the waiting period has passed or a waiver is obtained, a couple must return to the clerk for a license. They have 60 days for the license to be solemnized by an official, member of the clergy or another person authorized to perform marriages.

A justice of the peace charges $75 to $125. One Christian denomination that recognizes gay unions, the Unitarian Universalist Association, offers free weddings to congregation members. Nonmembers pay $150 to $500.

After the ceremony, the officiator signs the license and sends it back to the clerk, who registers the union. The couple may receive an official marriage certificate.

Discovering a good blog is like finding money in your pocket

There are several blogs that I check regularly.

One is frog, an insightful woman who writes of all manner of things; partners, spirituality, family, small people (a.k.a., children). She frequently references her friend, "flea" who writes the blog One Good Thing. Flea evidently owns and runs a sex-toy shop in some northern suburb of Chicago.

From flea's blog, I discovered a poet's blog, entitled A Pillow Book from the Land of Artichokes. And I worried about the name "Calypso Dragon 13" being on the long side!

I'm going to add "Artichoke Heart's" blog to my list. Her writing is lyrical. (And why am I surprised? She is a published poet, who travels around the country giving poetry readings.)

Now, it so happens that S and I have a large, framed photograph in our fireplace room entitled, "Pow Wow, Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump." It shows native Americans dancing in full, ceremonial dress at a pow-wow. The photo is full of intensity and color and movement. As S has either Blackfeet or Crow blood in her family history, we have this photo in our home, in a place of honor.

Back to Artichoke Heart. Her posting of Monday, May 10th is this evocative description of Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump in southern Alberta. Here's an example of her writing:

"...one can’t help but feel similarly disquieted by thoughts of erasure, loss, evanescence, and flux, while standing at the top of the cliff at Head-Smashed-In, looking out over miles and miles of wind-ruffled prairie below. For over 5,000 years there was the deafening clamor of stampeding hooves, the unimaginable sound of as many as 300 buffalo raining down from the sky and falling to the earth, the songs sung to the spirit of the buffalo lacing the air like the silky warble of a meadowlark, and now there is only the song of the wind . . . and silence."

Yup, reading this blog is better than finding that unexpected $20 bill.

Was Nicholas Berg a spook?

Based on everything I've read, and the little that I know about the workings of our government, I think Nicholas Berg worked for the CIA, got tagged by al-Qaeda, and was executed.

I think all of this stuff about him being a civilian in Iraq, his interactions with the military and all the other stuff being printed about the last couple months of his life is a bunch of HOOEY!

In my humble opinion.

Why am I up so early on a Saturday morning?

... to take this coffee exam? I am a plain cup of joe. Doesn't a plain cup of joe sound ... well, uh, "plain?"

But don't think plain - instead think, uncomplicated.
You're a low maintenance kind of girl... who can hang with the guys
Down to earth, easy going, and fun! Yup, that's you: the friend everyone invites. And your dependable too. Both for a laugh and a sympathetic ear.

Which I guess, in the large scheme of things, isn't all bad.

Using BlogThis!

Give this a try.

Wow! Check out the photo!

Well, sorry to not be cool and act unexcited, but I AM EXCITED!


Another trial 

And for anyone who wants to know, this is Dakota Sue, now seventeen months old, with the swish-iest tail you'd ever want to be smacked with. (Damn, I hate it when I end sentences with prepositions! Where's Yosh when I need him?)

Can't you ever leave this damn thing alone?

No!

I wanna see if I can insert an image.


 

A soldier in Afghanistan speaks out . . .

From Arkhangel's blog, he writes about pens for children in Afghanistan, the military in Iraq and the Nicholas Berg beheading. He is a soldier in the U.S. Army. He says, "I just got back from a year-long tour of duty in Iraq. Yes, I've seen action." Currently, he is an Army public affairs specialist stationed in Afghanistan. Check it out.

I'll add this featured post by Arkhangel, entitled, "There is No Honor." Well said!

How can America get out of Iraq?

From today's London Guardian, comes this article eliciting suggestions from well-known public figures as to how America can get out of Iraq. Here are some excerpts:

From Jonathan Schell:

There are still many things the US can do for the people of Iraq. Continued economic assistance is one. Another is to help international organisations assist (but only to whatever degree is wanted by the local people) in the transition to a new political order.

But all combat operations should cease immediately, and then, on a fixed and announced timetable, the American forces should withdraw from the country. In short, the US, working with others, should give Iraqis their best chance to succeed in their own efforts to create their own future.

From Noam Chomsky:

Occupying armies have responsibilities, not rights. Their primary responsibility is to withdraw as quickly and expeditiously as possible, in a manner determined by the occupied population.

It follows that the orders issued by Proconsul Bremer are illegitimate and should be rescinded, including those designed to place the economy effectively in the hands of western (mostly US) banks and multinational companies, and the 15% flat tax which, apart from its injustice, bars the way to desperately needed social spending and reconstruction.

Without economic sovereignty, prospects for healthy development are slight, and political independence verges on formality.
. . .
A large majority of Americans believe that the UN, not the US, should take the lead in working with Iraqis to transfer authentic sovereignty as well as in economic reconstruction and maintaining civic order.
. . .
Reconstruction should be in the hands of Iraqis, not delayed as a means of controlling them, as Washington has indicated.

From Howard Zinn:

Any "practical" approach to the situation in Iraq, any prescription for what to do now, must start with the understanding that the present US military occupation is morally unacceptable.
. . .
The history of military occupations of third world countries is that they bring neither democracy nor security. The laments that "we mustn't cut and run", "we must stay the course", our "reputation" will be imperilled," etc., are exactly what we heard when, at the start of the Vietnam escalation, some of us called for immediate withdrawal. The result of staying the course was 58,000 Americans and several million Vietnamese dead.
. . .
What would be a reasonably good scenario to accompany our departure? The UN should arrange, as US forces leave, for an international group of peacekeepers and negotiators from the Arab countries to bring together Shia, Sunnis and Kurds and work out a solution for self governance that would give all three groups a share in political power.

This article was first published in the Nation.

Always more books to read

From a blog which I don't normally read, Reflections in d minor, comes this reading list. The "rules" (what are rules to an ENFP?--hah!) are to highlight (or make bold) everything in the list that you have read.

Beowulf
Achebe, Chinua - Things Fall Apart
Agee, James - A Death in the Family
Austen, Jane - Pride and Prejudice
Baldwin, James - Go Tell It on the Mountain
Beckett, Samuel - Waiting for Godot
Bellow, Saul - The Adventures of Augie March
Brontë, Charlotte - Jane Eyre
Brontë, Emily - Wuthering Heights
Camus, Albert - The Stranger (does it count if my ex-husband read it to me in French?)
Cather, Willa - Death Comes for the Archbishop
Chaucer, Geoffrey - The Canterbury Tales (excerpts)
Chekhov, Anton - The Cherry Orchard
Chopin, Kate - The Awakening
Conrad, Joseph - Heart of Darkness
Cooper, James Fenimore - The Last of the Mohicans
Crane, Stephen - The Red Badge of Courage
Dante - Inferno
de Cervantes, Miguel - Don Quixote
Defoe, Daniel - Robinson Crusoe
Dickens, Charles - A Tale of Two Cities
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor - Crime and Punishment
Douglass, Frederick - Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass
Dreiser, Theodore - An American Tragedy
Dumas, Alexandre - The Three Musketeers
Eliot, George - The Mill on the Floss
Ellison, Ralph - Invisible Man (I think???)
Emerson, Ralph Waldo - Selected Essays
Faulkner, William - As I Lay Dying
Faulkner, William - The Sound and the Fury
Fielding, Henry - Tom Jones
Fitzgerald, F. Scott - The Great Gatsby
Flaubert, Gustave - Madame Bovary
Ford, Ford Madox - The Good Soldier
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von - Faust
Golding, William - Lord of the Flies
Hardy, Thomas - Tess of the d'Urbervilles
Hawthorne, Nathaniel - The Scarlet Letter
Heller, Joseph - Catch 22
Hemingway, Ernest - A Farewell to Arms
Homer - The Iliad
Homer - The Odyssey
Hugo, Victor - The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Hurston, Zora Neale - Their Eyes Were Watching God (on my list to read)
Huxley, Aldous - Brave New World
Ibsen, Henrik - A Doll's House
James, Henry - The Portrait of a Lady
James, Henry - The Turn of the Screw
Joyce, James - A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Kafka, Franz - The Metamorphosis
Kingston, Maxine Hong - The Woman Warrior
Lee, Harper - To Kill a Mockingbird
Lewis, Sinclair - Babbitt
London, Jack - The Call of the Wild
Mann, Thomas - The Magic Mountain
Marquez, Gabriel García - One Hundred Years of Solitude (started and quit; again, on my list to read)
Melville, Herman - Bartleby the Scrivener
Melville, Herman - Moby Dick
Miller, Arthur - The Crucible
Morrison, Toni - Beloved
O'Connor, Flannery - A Good Man is Hard to Find (on my list to read)
O'Neill, Eugene - Long Day's Journey into Night
Orwell, George - Animal Farm
Pasternak, Boris - Doctor Zhivago
Plath, Sylvia - The Bell Jar
Poe, Edgar Allan - Selected Tales
Proust, Marcel - Swann's Way
Pynchon, Thomas - The Crying of Lot 49
Remarque, Erich Maria - All Quiet on the Western Front
Rostand, Edmond - Cyrano de Bergerac
Roth, Henry - Call It Sleep
Salinger, J.D. - The Catcher in the Rye
Shakespeare, William - Hamlet
Shakespeare, William - Macbeth
Shakespeare, William - A Midsummer Night's Dream
Shakespeare, William - Romeo and Juliet
Shaw, George Bernard - Pygmalion
Shelley, Mary - Frankenstein
Silko, Leslie Marmon - Ceremony
Solzhenitsyn, Alexander - One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich (how about Gulag Archipelago?)
Sophocles - Antigone
Sophocles - Oedipus Rex
Steinbeck, John - The Grapes of Wrath
Stevenson, Robert Louis - Treasure Island
Stowe, Harriet Beecher - Uncle Tom's Cabin
Swift, Jonathan - Gulliver's Travels
Thackeray, William - Vanity Fair
Thoreau, Henry David - Walden
Tolstoy, Leo - War and Peace
Turgenev, Ivan - Fathers and Sons
Twain, Mark - The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Voltaire - Candide
Vonnegut, Kurt Jr. - Slaughterhouse-Five
Walker, Alice - The Color Purple
Wharton, Edith - The House of Mirth
Welty, Eudora - Collected Stories
Whitman, Walt - Leaves of Grass
Wilde, Oscar - The Picture of Dorian Gray
Williams, Tennessee - The Glass Menagerie
Woolf, Virginia - To the Lighthouse
Wright, Richard - Native Son


I just finished Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh. I should add that to the list.

A test for commenting

I am feeling rather brain-dead, so I took the stupid path of commenting.

If Blogger is really that idiot-proof, then perhaps there will be a comment line for this new post . . . ?????

Silly ANSI Beading

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New look for Blogger

I haven't commented on the new look for Blogger, but I definitely like it! It seems cleaner and more user-friendly, as overused a term as that may be.

I checked out all 33 of the new (and current) templates. For now, I'm going to stick with my modified #110 template, until I find something else that makes my eyes wiggly with excitement!

One thing that I keep wanting to fix is my calendar. I copied the code from another blog, thinking I got all the critical parts. Evidently I didn't. My calendar is not live, not showing the links to earlier posts, as I thought it would. *Sigh* When I have more energy, that's something I'll tackle. Not now though.

For now, I'll just enjoy the new Blogger look and interface. Thanks, folks!

Wendishday

It's Wednesday, Wendishday and hump day.

I recently read American Gods by Neil Gaiman. One of the protagonists in that novel is named Wednesday. It's marketed as science fiction, which I usually don't read. With my interest in theology, it was actually the title that prompted me to read about the book, buy it as a gift for S, and then borrow it to read (talk about blatant opportunism). I'm still hoping that S will find it quasi-enjoyable to read.

Gaiman hooked me with a story I didn't expect to enjoy as much as I did. I marveled at all the wild, crazy people that Shadow encounters in the book, while at the same time, I liked feeling the tensions building towards the climax of the story.

Find it and read it.

It's also, of course, Wendishday (with a nod toward my Wild Wendish pirate daughter).

And then, it's hump day. This week is crawling along, so it feels like it's taken forever just to get to mid-day Wednesday.

I'm still "recovering" from all the hyper-cleaning, mega-hosting and ultra-socializing that we did this weekend, celebrating my nephew, Luke's graduation. I have felt so tired that I made a double effort to start taking my multi-vitamins again, along with nine hours of sleep last night.

My dad and step-mom, Evelyn, are returning to the big city tonight in preparation for their flight back to Texas tomorrow. I'm awaiting their phone call so we can make arrangements to have dinner together. I've done the Mapquest thing, routing us from their airport hotel to this well-known restaurant chain called LaShish. S and I have eaten there several times over the years, though not recently. They have authentic, yummy Middle Eastern fare.

And, while I write this, my son, Yosh, over on the "other side of the lake," is hopefully breezing through a four-and-a-half hour exam, his fourth actuarial exam. I am sending affirming thoughts and loving energy his way.

... stuck on "Vulnerable"

My Unkymood has been set at "Vulnerable" for the past seven days. I was thinking it was high time that I updated it.

Then I went to the podiatrist this morning and the ophthamologist this afternoon. Now I'm feeling really vulnerable!

My toes are swathed in bandages again (a new toe) and my eyes are dilated so that everything is a little blurry and the world has lost its edge. I've always wanted a blurry blog.

I'm at work, struggling to do some work with my eyesight still quite fuzzy (I first typed "ufzzy").

I would like to call S, but she is under so much stress and is rather snarly these days. I'll wait for her to call me. No reason to bring snarliness down upon myself.

Intimate Connections

S and I witnessed something pretty cool last night.

We went to a local bar in our little village near De-Twah, specifically for a beer and their $2 Tuesday night burgers.

We got there so late, the karaoke lady was already set up and beginning to lure customers into foisting their shower-singing-only voices on the rest of us poor sots. Can you tell that I don't like karaoke?

I really don't!

We're talking and eating (more like inhaling; we were hungry!). Several people had gotten up to sing, including a small-framed, older man wearing a snappy-looking black beret. Karaoke Lady called him Bob James. "Let's welcome Bob James back up here!" she boomed into the mike.

Bob sang bluesy songs, with this deep, growly bass voice. An amazingly big voice for such a small person. And he sang with soul. He altered the lyrics, stretched the tempo, made you hear and feel the words anew. He was amazingly good, especially for a karaoke singer (I can't believe I just wrote that!).

By now, S and I had pretty much figured out that this guy is a regular, and he's doing his Tuesday night karaoke gig, you know? He strolled up there, after the third or fourth time, to sing "Georgia on My Mind." And, in a surprise twist of ritual, Karaoke Lady started singing a duet with him, the man and woman taking turns singing.

We already know that ol' Bob can 'kick it out.' But now, Karaoke Lady starts singin' back to him, this young white girl, and she's stretching the tempo, pulling amazing power out of her voice to glide into pitches, teasing the feeling out of the music. And then it's Bob's turn and he's growlin' out soulful words back to her.

At first, I could feel it in my body. And then S turned to me saying, "Something pretty special's happening up there." And we could feel it together in that darkened, crummy bar: a connection, an intimate connection of two souls, singing to one another, touching each other's inner being, a long, slow, bluesy declaration of ain't-life-a-beautiful-thing? And we were witnessing it. By the end of the song, the wandering attention of the bar customers was focused on those two and the bar erupted with applause.

And I felt like I had experienced something spiritual.

Toes

Toes are wonderful things until they hurt. Then they are vulnerable things, sticking out there just waiting to get stepped on, or bumped or something dropped on them. Then ... ouch!!

I was working Sunday, cleaning the house, in anticipation of our guests. I'm moving things around, sliding things, and my big toe kept hurting. OUCH! OOh, there it goes again!@#E! Boy, does my toe hurt. Finally, Sunday night I took my socks off and looked at the poor thing. It was swollen and purplish on the one side, and it hurt. Do not touch me, it said. And I didn't.

Monday, at work, I pretty much ignored my hurting toe. Sitting at a desk, working on a computer doesn't require much use of your toes.

Monday night, I sat in the tub (with wonderful whirlpool jets!) for over 40 minutes, just letting the warm water and the epsom salts supposedly work their magic. I got into bed, settled in, and fell asleep.

I must have moved my foot just the wrong way ... and ZINNNNGGGGGGG, pain shot through my body like a lightning bolt! I was instantly awake and my body was electrified with shimmering, pulses of pain. Wow!

Now, I'm pissed. My toe is obviously infected, the soaking bath didn't help, it's 1:30 a.m. and I'm wide awake with adrenaline coursing through my veins. I'm ready for a fight! I ended up sleeping poorly the rest of the night, trying to protect my throbbing, hurting big toe, keeping it out from under the covers while the rest of my foot was cold and complaining about it.

Thankfully, my guardian angels of health were working in the background. I called a podiatrist that I happened to see an ad for the previous day (I did have toes and podiatry on my mind) who just happened to have an opening for that morning at 10:30. Could I make it? You betcha! An hour-and-a-half later, I left after foot surgery (yikes!) on not one, but two toes, both infected and requiring local anesthesia, tourniquets, excising ingrown nail, treating the cuticle bed, so on and gruesome details so forth!

My toes were numb for the rest of the day. I was thankful for that. This morning the feeling has returned, but thankfully, it doesn't hurt anything like it did yesterday morning.

Thanks, Dr. Podiatrist. You are an angel of toe mercy!

Some astrological projections for me??

My Yahoo May horoscope tells me this:

"Miracles happen during the first weekend of May. By the time you report for work on the 3rd, the decision-makers are offering you the chance of a lifetime. [Really?] Who cares if this isn't what you had in mind? [You can say that again!] It puts you in the seat of maximum advantage between the 5th and 7th . . . If company loyalty isn't an issue [are you kidding?] and debts of gratitude have already been repaid, your skill set is available to the highest bidder, and the bids will be rolling in through the 12th [but, but -- that's next Wednesday!] . . . The beginning of June is already looking good from here."

I happened to read that on Saturday, and it registered . . . slightly. Today, Chris, one of the guys I work with, announced he is leaving. Darn! I like Chris and hate to see him leave. But, he will be working in a supervisory role, for more money, and is looking for some good people. Kind of like the Army, you know? We talked a little about my past experience working with Class A surfacing (not much), but I told him that I would be definitely be interested, if he needs more people.

Do you think there's any hope?

Busy, busy day!

I need to get away from the computer and my blog (which I'm so enjoying) and tidy up this house for our upcoming guests. We still have some few remnants of Christmas decorations up (gasp!), so those must come down. I have a few light bulbs to change out, as our guests are older and need brighter light. Since our dryer is on the "fritz," so to speak, I think I'll take the rag rugs that need washing to a laundromat, and be done with them.

Putting things away, tidying up, dusting, dusting, vacuuming, vacuuming.

Ah, yes, there's my agenda for the day!

George makes a joke

I'll give the guy a little credit. He can joke about himself. Mr. Bush was at a correspondents' dinner and said this:

"It really gets me when the critics say I haven't done enough for the economy," he said. "I mean, look what I've done for the book publishing industry. You've heard some of the titles. 'Big Lies,' 'The Lies of George W. Bush,' 'The Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them.' I'd like to tell you I've read each of these books, but that'd be a lie."

Thank you, George.

Happy May Day, Everybody!

Today is May Day, a day for the worker.

"May 1st, International Workers' Day, commemorates the historic struggle of working people throughout the world, and is recognized in every country except the United States, Canada, and South Africa. This despite the fact that the holiday began in the 1880s in the United States, with the fight for an eight-hour work day.

In 1884, the Federation of Organized Trades and Labor Unions passed a resolution stating that eight hours would constitute a legal day's work from and after May 1, 1886. The resolution called for a general strike to achieve the goal, since legislative methods had already failed. With workers being forced to work ten, twelve, and fourteen hours a day, rank-and-file support for the eight-hour movement grew rapidly, despite the indifference and hostility of many union leaders. By April 1886, 250,000 workers were involved in the May Day movement.

. . . It is not surprising that the state, business leaders, mainstream union officials, and the media would want to hide the true history of May Day, portraying it as a holiday celebrated only in Moscow's Red Square. In its attempt to erase the history and significance of May Day, the United States government declared May 1st to be "Law Day", and gave us instead Labor Day - a holiday devoid of any historical significance other than its importance as a day to swill beer and sit in traffic jams."

I agree with everything except the "swill beer" part. I don't swill. I drink my beer.

On a lemon-y note

Try this wonderful Italian lemon liqueur called Lemoncello .

I finally cracked it open since we brought it home from Premiere Liquor in Buffalo.

Drink it ice-cold in a charmingly small glass, and you feel like you've died and gone to a heaven where all the angels are swathed in lemon thyme and the clouds are spun with the zest-iest of lemon zest.