ruminants r us

my musings, or is it mussings?


Juxtaposition
Mow in Repose
[info]terrshee
I keep thinking back to my visit to NYC last week, and walking out of the PATH station at the World Trade Center and seeing a food vendor's cart that advertised Halal food. It's a weird sort of juxtaposition, in a karmic sense. I think it speaks well that it can be there. On the other hand, I wonder how many people walking by actually know what culture is associated with Halal.

Sucked in By the Food Network
Deranged Fluff Bomb of the Gods
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So has anyone else made unseemly snorting noises of amusement at Alton Brown doing his best imitation of a Vorlon?

Shows about cooking competitions just suck me in. Sigh.

Not my favorite author, but ...
Me at Chicen Itaz
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George Orwell is not my favorite author, but I came across something he had to say about the decline in English language writing, and I think it is even more applicable in the age of the Internet.

"A man may take to drink because he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts. "

In a world with the abuses of "free gifts," "present moment," "very unique," "irregardless," "proof in the pudding," and bountiful other evidence of ignorance of proper language, I find some comfort in reading the well-written and thoughtful, and I am humbled because it will shortly be my task to keep everyone else on track. Oh dear, oh my. How much do I really know?



Mr. Frank is Well--named
lotus
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I've looked over some of the reactions in various press blogs to Mr. Frank's frankness with the Laroucheite at the Town Hall Meeting. People will believe what they want to believe, and see only what they want to see, but fanatics of any stripe get far more ink (virtual or otherwise) than they deserve. But it was an almost Churchillesque moment.

What They Do When You Are Not Home
Me at Chicen Itaz
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I came back from visiting my mother to find this:



Must be  lol cat caption in there somewhere.


Sicily, Maybe
Cat with Flower Arrangement
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It was Madrid, but now I'm rethinking in terms of Sicily for my 55th birthday trip. Greek, Roman, Arab, Norman and Medieval culture all on one island, and warmer weather than Madrid in February. I had some fantasies about taking a ferry over to Naples for pizza and a visit to Pompeii, but that's a 20 hour ride. Although there might be an overnight ferry with sleeping arrangements? And then I have a friend in the foreign service on Malta, which isn't too far away by ferry and has its own pile o' history to visit.  Anyway, I suspect one could spend a week there with little chance of boredom without the side trips. Must get guidebooks and do a little reconnoitering.

Temper, Temper
Deranged Fluff Bomb of the Gods
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Once more Comcast has managed to make me insanely angry. I turned on the tube last night for a little Nat Geo time, and the screen says I have to contact them to get a device to view this channel, and will need to do so to view any channel soon. WTF?! I thought having cable and a newer model TV was supposed to avoid that kind of nonsense in the transition to HD. I am trying to find that calm place that will allow me to deal with their frustratingly medacious so-called customer service. I'm at the point where I just want to cancel the TV service and watch the few shows that I routinely enjoy on Hulu, thus avoiding incessant commercials and 1/5 of the screen being eaten up by advertising during the show . The rest I can live without. I might even get back to a little painting and writing. Now there's a thought.

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Changes are in the works here at Ye New Companie, and on the whole I view them positively. My duties in forecasting economic data will pretty much disappear, and those involving analysis of the central bank increase. I also get to be the English Authority on the editorial side. I'm already the walking spell-check, so why not? And then there's the possibility of doing some web page development, which makes me rather happy at the prospect.

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I'm trying to get to the animal shelter twice a week for an hour or so each time. The googie walking is pleasant enough, and gets me a little exercise. The socialization of kittehs, however, is proving a sore trial in that there's one I want to bring home. Kit Vicious would not like it much, I am sure. Since she rules the universe, she gets to stay an only cat.

The Win Column
Deranged Fluff Bomb of the Gods
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In the Win Column:

Managed to schedule time off to go see my father at the end of July when my fave sister could make it.  Scored on the airfares big time, and got the best rates I have ever seen. Did nearly as well on the car rental selection.
 

The garage is now clear enough to put the car back in.

My Duran coffee order arrived.

I have fixed my new (refurbished) printer which had stopped printing anything black. A fresh cartridge did the trick, but I have to now wonder how long a cartridge lasts since I don't print all that much and this is less than two months old?

In the To Be Determined Column:

My brother came and finished the plumbing repairs in thegarage. Since there is wallboard covering it, I have no clue how well he did. I doubt if I saw it, I could tell anyway. He also replaced the light fixture outside the front door. He did this a week or so ago, but water from the continual rains got in there and shorted it out. It is a little crooked which will drive my OCD self crazy, but hopefully this time it is better sealed.

Timing of the trip to Costa Rica now puts going up to Pennsic in a far more doubtful position. At best I can head up on Sunday and come home Tuesday. I'm mulling over whether the 8 hour drive is worth it or not versus the attendence of friends I haven't seen for years. Hmm. That probably just answered that.

In the Ironic Column:

The notice to renew my SCA membership  arrived today, along with my new membership card from when I sent in my fees a few weeks ago.

AmEx wants me to upgrade my card, badly. I keep getting notices about the wonder benefits I will receive if I a) pay more money a year, b) charge more money a month on the card, and c) get a free companion ticket once a year for my nonexistent partner. And this is supposed to appeal to me because?

I have the most beautiful cat in the world, which manages to offset her biting and jumping. As friends would say, "Bad kitty. Aw, aren't you cute?"


Old Lady Engineering Strikes Again
lotus
[info]terrshee
This past weekend I went to wash the car, preparatory to which I turned on the water to the outdoor spigot after being shutdown all winter. Water comes gushing forth under the wall in the garage. Rats. A fail in the plumbing. Oh well. Things like that happen.

I called the handiest of my brothers and asked if he could come and have a look. Today he did.

I had pulled out some shelves that covered the area that needed to be accessed. It was clear there had been an earlier repair by a square of drywall that was badly patched. Hmmmm.

My brother pulls off the section of drywall and Lo!  Not only is there an old repair that has come apart, but there is bubble wrap stuffed in the wall instead of insulation. Bubble wrap. Who would expect bubble wrap to serve as a barrier to the elements? Sigh. Old Lady Engineering strikes again.

I'm laughing, but only just.  And I am grateful to have a handy brother, oh yes I am.

Getting a Cat to Pose
Deranged Fluff Bomb of the Gods
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I've been cruising the Manx-related websites as part of trying to determine the ethnicity of the Deranged Fluff Bomb (definitive answer will await her first visit to my vet). On these sites are all sorts of cute pictures of Manxes that pose in such a way to show off their, uh, assets.

I have yet to get one decent picture of the DFB that involves her standing up, much less one which displays her lovely Manx-like characteristics. How do the breeders get their champions to pose? They must have ultra-high speed cameras with auto shutters that snap whenever the cat moves, and thus have about a thousand images to comb through in order to find just the right one. Every time I point the camera at the DFB, she sits and presents her face. Which is a very pretty kitteh face, mind you, but not her most distinctive feature. Of course it does not much help that I am the world's worst photographer. I stopped taking pictures for the longest time until the advent of digital cameras. One can waste a lot of pixels without wasting money on development.

BTW, Mom called last night. Someone spilled the beans about the new kitty, news which I had planned to break gently so as to show no disrespect about the departed Paddywack. Fortunately, she was mostly excited for me and can't wait to see pictures. If I could just get the DFB to pose ....




Nocturnal, Not Me, Her
Me at Chicen Itaz
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In case you were unaware of it, cats are nocturnal. Cats adapting to a new environment would appear to be doubly so.

The Deranged Fluff Bomb was nowhere to be found when I got home from work yesterday, as in I checked every typical cat haunt in the house and could not find her. It was the weirdest experience. I was doing the triple check downstairs when I hear a slight *whump* upstairs, and heaved a sigh of relief that the DFB was there somewhere. Turns out she has found a hidey hole on one of the shelves in the linen closet.

Note to self: the web pages all say that Manx kittehs are fond of higher ground. Look for cat above things, not under.

Next note to self: the texts all say that Manx kittehs are jumpers. This seemingly solid piece o' cat can jump. Things my prior darlings would not even attempt with a staging platform are routine leaps for the DFB.

Yet another note to self: descriptions of Manx say they are playful and avid hunters. The DFB is finding toys where she wants them. It would appear that jumping up on my bureau and grabbing hair elastics is going to be the favorite game. However, manufactured cat toys are quite acceptable as well, as proven by her spending much of last night roughing up the feather toy with the jingle bell attached.

More than once I was awoken last night by the DFB sprawled on my chest and demanding to be petted. Sigh. I obliged and would have done so less reluctantly had I not be repeatedly awoken by attacks on the above mentioned jingle bell toy. The DFB has also taken to being a monorail kitteh on my headboard, so if I awake slightly and look up, there's the DFB above my head.

Ah, adventures in living with a new cat. I sincerely hope she's less restless in a few days.


Kittehs Rulz
Me at Chicen Itaz
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I believe I shall henceforth be known as the Chew Toy That Opens Cans in Service to the Deranged Fluff Bomb of the Gods Who Gave Her Tail to be Their Scourge. I may have to write a Dunsany- or Lovecraft-esque tale of her arrival, but really its all been fairly undramatic.

Damn she's cute.

I got very little sleep last night. The house was full of strange noises which set off the Rumpy Cat Butt (I am now convinced she is a Manx in breed, and the tailless variety is called a 'rumpy') and the consequent setting off of the ruler or her random explorations woke me up. A lot.

My past experience of bringing a new cat home is that she hides under the bed for three days to emerge only at night. Food disappears magically, etc. Not this one. She came out of the carrier without undue fear and has done her best to take over the townhouse universe one room at a time, that being the room that I occupy at any given time. I'm learning her ways, because mine will certainly have no importance whatsoever to the Deranged One. My greatest blessing is that she is declawed, because otherwise I'd be shredded by her "playfulness."

But, again, damn she's cute.

Yet Another Wacky Cat
Me at Chicen Itaz
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My brother once asked me, "What is it with you and the wacky cats?" I will soon commit another kitteh folly. This is Minxie. She is at the local pet rescue place. Her cage has a red label on it to indicate she's a bit ... difficult. She's been waiting a year for adoption because she is a little high strung and needs a home where there are no children or people who foolishly expect a cat to offer love rather than receive it. As long as she curls up next to me and purrs sweetly from time-to-time, I think that will be enough. She's certainly been responsive to my head-scratching techniques. The ladies at the shelter assure me she calms down immensely when given an opportunity to be out of the cat communal environment.  If I were not traveling this weekend, she's be here now. But I must wait for Monday, which will try my patience sorely. I will, however, give her a new name as soon as she tells me what it is.




Smeared Acrylics
Me at Chicen Itaz
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As I have noted before, Mark Rothko would disown it, but I am not displeased.




Channel Surfing Expands the Mind
Me at Chicen Itaz
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In honor of Cinco de Mayo, here is today's language lesson. In Spanish, Swine Flu is La Gripe Porcina. Sounds so much classier. Who says channel surfing is a waste of time?

Who's In?
Me at Chicen Itaz
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StringMonkey has pointed out the C&I exhibit currently at the National Gallery, and there's an upcoming one that overlaps it in timing and interest for us SCAdians. It is: The Art of Power: Royal Armor and Portraits from Imperial Spain from June 28–November 1, 2009 (http://www.nga.gov/exhibitions/armorinfo.shtm). It is supposedly a rare opportunity to see the armor and the portrait in which it was depicted. Might anyone be interested in a party to see both sometime in early July? I'm thinking July 11 or 12, or 18 or 19. Yes, it kind of butts up near Pennsic, but surely a day trip is possible? I'd even be willing to take a vacation day and do the tour on a Monday or Friday.

Up and Down
gift
[info]terrshee
The huge downer of the weekend was missing the Star Wars-themed party. Pinkleader's pictures make me particularly sad I could not be there. The Queen Amidala costume was awesome! My Jedi tunic and belt are in the closet awaiting the next occasion. One never knows when a Star Wars costume will come in handy with my friends, and there's always Halloween. Curse migraines! Foiled again.

Yet I managed to get in some quality time buying storage bins at Target and getting the sewing/art area into some sort of order. They aren't exactly decorative, but the result is neatness and order, two things of which I approve heartily. I managed to buy all the bins in the size I wanted that the two local Targets had in stock. I need two more of the large drawer-like ones, but it can wait. Anyway,  I now plan an abstract landscape for the big wall up there, and am even thinking about cutting up some of the veggie vellum and doing a few scrolls.

The upper for the weekend was finally getting to an AA meeting. What fun, eh? Thankfully my sobriety seems in pretty good shape, however, in contemplating how I can build a life for myself here, it seemed the obvious next step to finally make contact with actual humans. I found an early morning women's meeting on Sunday, and I believe it will suit my schedule for reasonably regular attendance. Although I know if I have a problem that any number of friends would drop everything and come to my aid, this has helped my sense of security that there is someone closer on whom I could call in an emergency. I probably never will, but there are names and numbers in my wallet that were not there before. That's a very good thing.

I'm waffling about whether to call the vet or not. The cat is eating, but pretty much only at night and consuming only about 1/2 her normal portion. She's hiding under the bed most of the time, and she hasn't come to me for cat luv in days. Her eyes look good, her nose is moist, and her coat feels fine. She's using the litter box.  So by most measures I wouldn't say she appears sick, but the lethargy and lack of interest in food is not good in a 14-year old kitty with thyroid problems. I guess I just don't want to go through losing another cat so soon, even one who has not been with me long, therefore I don't want to know.  Of course I won't let it slide, because I do care more for her wellbeing than my reluctance to engage in end of life issues again. It just kinda stinks.


So Much Done
Me at Chicen Itaz
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My lungs are not rejoicing, but my project-oriented self is quite happy. The painters came today and knocked out the foyer in what must be record time. For a 25-year old house, it looks pretty fine. At last the finish on the walls is uniform and the bits that have been replaced  for minor repairs are all hidden behind a layer or two of semi-gloss. They were also good on repairing the most obvious of the nail-pops and dings in the walls. Bonus, they voluntarily replaced a light fixture I had waiting. Should I ever need a professional painting job again, you may be sure their names are going in my rolodex.

To add to the sense of satisfaction, the chimney sweeps came around and did the HOA-required inspection. The two funny parts were the discovery of the next piece of Old Lady Engineering (she painted some black on the back of the unused fireplaces to make them look used) and that one of the sweeps readily identified me as an SCA-type and we exchanged the metaphoric secret handshake of medievalists. I've been here a year and a half (it that possible?) and this was my first Society contact. They were quite nice. Cute, too, but much, much too young.

Then it was on to getting the handyman in to rehang the bifold doors in the kitchen. They've been coming off the hinges since I got here. It didn't take long, and in the end the cosmetic touch to hide the repair  is in fact is an improvement. More bonus.

The new catsitter came around to be briefed on the care and feeding of the White Cat in the Grey Tabby Suit, so now I don't have to worry about her so much when I am away.

I felt like I worked all day except for the part where I spent most of it in front of the computer playing games and IMing with kfitzwarin because I just wanted to stay out of the way of all the hard workers. I did get a bit of productivity accomplished in the cleanup and resettling of furniture, but it isn't that much to brag about.

The cat spent the entire day hiding under the bed. She's just now coming out and slinking about low to the ground.

Anyway, there's a bit more that needs to be done. Some pictures to rehang. The new piece of molding in the kitchen to be painted. Perhaps a little reorganization of the sewing and painting space. Some curtains to be hung when the paint is really dry. But for the first time in many months, I don't feel like there is a house project awaiting my attention. Egads. I live here, don't I? Oh dear, oh dear.



So Much for That
Me at Chicen Itaz
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I came home last night smelling of cigarette smoke and disappointed hopes.  I had a good visit with Mom except for the fact that she's smoking again after two months of holding off and she's backing down on the notion of assisted living. It makes me crazy.  She knows better, she knows she can't live alone any more, and she can't make a change. I'm coming to fear it is going to be a showdown and we will have to force her to do something for her own good, and it will break her aged-Mom heart. It is so hard on her.  But what else can be done?

---

The smoke and the stress have left me with a migraine, but at least the weekend was not without its pleasures. My sister and I had a lovely visit and a long walk with her beautiful dog prior to seeing Mom. Afterward, I went to have dinner with old friends and met a couple of new ones. An evening of relaxed and lively conversation over Indian food was great. It was made even better because one of the old friends had recently returned from India after a month of travels. She had great stories and the proprietor of the restaurant was impressed with her enthusiasm for the food and culture. He made sure we ate well indeed.

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My hair is quite a bit shorter today. I had a moment when I looked in the mirror and decided the medium brown must go. There's a few strands that have a tip of the old dye job, but now it is almost all salt-and-pepper me. I'm annoyed at the length because I can't pull it back right now. A few weeks will cure that. It's funny, but even my mother prefers my hair au natural these days. Perhaps aging suits me and I just haven't realized quite yet.

Coffee Frenzy
Heron
[info]terrshee
It's all my fault.  First I doled out the cache of Costa Rican coffee from my last trip south. Then I started ordering the Cafe Duran on-line and bringing it in to the office. Now everyone is bringing in a favorite brand or trying something exotic. It certainly beats the bland Dunkin' Donuts brand we normally buy for the office. But, oh, we are getting spoiled. And wide awake.

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It is silly, but I was working on my costume for the upcoming party last night, and could not find an old tried and true McCalls pattern to use for the pants. I bought the stupid thing perhaps 20 years ago and got a lot of use out of it. I panicked and headed for the computer. I was sure it was out of print, and I was right. But, Lo! On e-bay I found it. Instead of moving on and finding an alternative, I clung to the past and was rewarded.

While I was there, I figured I'd browse the shoe listing for a pair of boots I had liked, but passed on. There they were. Woo-hoo!

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The leather jacket I bought in Florence is aging. It needed the zipper replaced, and signs of wear are getting more numerous and more obvious. I was thinking about when I will have to retire it, but it occurs to me that the aging has now passed beyond rundown and into interesting. It will last a bit longer, I hope.

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