MEME, It's All About ME

1. Who is the last person you held hands with?
My sweetie, of course

2. If you were drafted into a war, would you survive?
Nope, not a chance. I don’t take orders well, especially if they are yelled at me like they are in basic training.

3. Have you ever drank milk out of the carton?
Ashamed to say I have and do. (And shouldn’t that be “drunk”?)

4.Have you ever won a spelling bee?
Are you kidding? But I can conjugate the verb “drink.”

5. How fast can you type?
Like the wind, baby. Um, do you mean accurately? Not so fast, then.

6. Are you afraid of the dark?
Nope. Unless of course I start to think about that play I saw about an old guy telling a young guy about this ghost who appears to people whose family she is going to kill and the young guy sees this woman in white, but when he mentions it to the old guy, he tells the young guy that he didn’t see any woman in white and that was the ghost! Well hell. Now I have to sleep with the light on again.

7. What is your eye color?
Brown

8. When is the last time you chose a bath over a shower?
I’m lucky enough to have one of those whirlpool tubs, so it’s been recent, I just don’t remember when. Guess it wasn’t that recent.

9. Do you knock on wood?
Yeah. I need all the help I can get.

10. Are you drinking anything right now?
Nope, but I just finished a Skinny Dip—New Belgium Brewery’s summer seasonal.

11. Can you hoola hoop?
That takes waaaaaaay too much coordination. And my hips just don’t seem to move that well any more. Maybe I should take a belly dancing class?

12. Are you good at keeping secrets?
Yes, except for that thing that Jay did…wait…I can’t tell you about that.

13. What do you want for Christmas?
For my mom or brother to win the PowerBall, assuming of course they’ll take care of me for the rest of my life. Otherwise, I want world peace.

14. Do you talk in your sleep?
So I’ve been told.

15. Who wrote the book of love?
Those people who wrote the Kama Sutra

16. Have you ever flown a kite?
Yes. Great. Now I’m going to sing that song from Mary Poppins (Let’s go fly a kite . . .)

17. Do you consider yourself successful?
Any day that I don’t end up in a padded room trying to spell my name with a crayon between my toes is a successful day.

18. How many people are on your contact list of your cell?
3—my home, my hubby’s cell, my mom. I have a small but tight circle.

19. Have you ever asked for a pony?
Yep but Mom always said no, as she should have. But she gave me a stuffed horse instead!

20. Plans for tomorrow?
Gym, quilt group and picking up prescriptions. Busy day for Kell!

21. Missing someone now?
Lots of people.

22. How are you feeling today?
Well, today was pretty good. Temp in the low 60s, skies blue, good hair day, didn’t end up in a padded room trying to spell my name with a crayon between my toes …

23, 23???


24. Are you black?
Let’s see. When I drink red wine or workout, I’m red. When I have the flue, I’m pasty white. When I was a teenager and laid out at the pool, I was dark brown. And when I’m happy, I’m just peachy.

25, 25?

26. What are you looking forward to?
My trip to Scotland in March.

27. Have you ever crawled through a window?
OK! I’m sorry! I thought the keys to the house where in my purse. Geez, give a girl a break.

28. Can you handle the truth?
No. Lie to me, please lie to me.

29. Do you like green eggs and ham?
I do not like them in a boat, I do not like them with a goat. It kind of scares me that that’s the only line I remember from that book.

30. What three things do you always bring with you to places?
A wallet, a book, and lipstick

31. Any cool scars?
It’s not really that cool, but I have a scar under my right knee, but I don’t really remember what from because I was so young.

32. Do you like or have a crush on anyone?
Oh, not really. They’re more like obsessions.

33. How many kids do you plan on having?
None. I think that boat has sailed. Looking for four-legged furry ones now.

34. What do you do when no one is watching?
Well, if I told you that, I couldn’t do it when no one is watching because you’d always be looking at me to see if I’m doing it.

35. Have you ever been in love?
Have and are.

36. Do you talk to yourself?
Of course, but it’s usually in the form of a sigh and an exasperated “Kell!” followed by me having to fix something I did wrong.

37. Is there something you want that you do not have?
I’m sure there is, but I can’t think of anything right now. Although I’m sure it’s sparkly.

38. Who are you thinking about right now?
Santa Claus because you just asked if there’s something I want and I remembered that I have to make some kind of list for my family for Christmas, but I have to do it soon because nobody likes to go shopping after Thanksgiving but me. Wimps.

39. Who did you last hug?
My hubby. He’s just so huggable.

40. Where is your phone?
Wait, I have to hit that page button so it’ll beep . . . it’s on the kitchen island.

41. What is the last movie you watched?
Split Second, a not-so-good-but-I-kept-watching-anyway movie with Clive Owen.

42. What song do you currently hear?
The Good Eats theme because that’s what I’m watching right now.

43. What do you want?
See #37.

44. Would you ever date anyone on your friends list?
OK, I don’t really understand this question. Are you talking about someone that my friend would want to date and I date him instead, or are you talking about the Friends TV show where they talked about their list? Doesn’t matter either way because I’m married, and I don’t think he’d like it if I went out with someone else. He’s funny that way.

45. What TV Show are you watching?
Good Eats on Food Network—AB rocks!

--
1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (your first pet and the street that you live on)
Tippy Q

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandfather/grandmother on your mom’s side, your favorite candy)
Ruby Peppermint

3. YOUR “FLY GIRL/GUY” NAME: (first initial of first name, first two or three letters of your middle name
K Jo

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Green Sheep (?—guess I should’ve thought of a cooler animal)

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Jo Yellville


6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name, first 2 letters of mom’s maiden name)
Patkepa

7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The”, your favorite color, favorite drink)
The Green Draft (I’m like the wind, baby!)

8. NASCAR NAME: (the first name of both your grandfathers)
Johnny John (Hey! That’s the same as Jay’s!)

9. FUTURISTIC NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne and the name of your favorite shoes)
Beautiful Stiletto

10.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: ( mother/father’s middle name and the next name you hear on the tv/radio/talk)
Ann Angel

11. STRIPPER NAME: (favorite dance and favorite snack)
Samba Lays (couln't resist)

So, wanna play along? Take it, take it, it’s yours!

Better Blocks

My new sewing machine rocks! I can't believe I had so much buyer's remorse before. Just wait until you see these new blocks. No whining this time about how they are the best I could do and how eventually I'll get better and whatever other excuses I came up with for flat-topped triangles and points that don't meet. My new Pfaff has fixed a lot of that. With that sewing machine, even I am a good quilt top piecer.

So, let's get started, shall we? Here's Great Lakes Star:



The colors are so pale, it's a little hard to see. I wouldn't normally choose these colors--I'm more of an earth tones person with occasional bursts of strong colors. But I decided I should stretch my horizons and work with something I wouldn't normally, thus the pastel colors.

Here's Winding Way. Really, really proud of this one. Sure, I had to rip out a few seams, and reposition and try again. And sure, I had to go buy more material because even though I measured twice and cut once, I still goofed. Now I read the instructions at least twice, measure a few times, then cut. Oh well, operator error does happen.



Here's a close up of one of the corners. Please notice the way the points meet in the middle. And the way the big triangle point meets the small triangle point above it. Huh? Cool. It's amazing how this little thing just makes me so happy.



And a close up of the center. See how all those triangles actually have pointy tops!?! *girlie happy noise*



Still more blocks to come, and I'm no longer afraid. I might be lulling myself into a false sense of security, but I'll enjoy it while I can.

And, I'm still knitting on the shawl. I love the way this is turning out.

This first one is a little washed out, but you can see the pattern. The second pic is a better representation of the color.

So Many Books, So Little Time?

I went to check out the website for the magazine Good that I heard about on JD's blog. I am always on the lookout for new magazines. I need that basket of catalogues and magazines by the couch to completely run over, not just topple a little.

I zoned in immediately on this article by Michael Silverblatt, lamenting the fact that people don't read any more. Not only don't they read, they don't want to read. That reminded of me of the time we were living in Bossier City, Louisiana, and a Barnes and Noble opened. This was huge for me. But Al said that he saw a guy walk in and say, "Well hell. All they have in here is a bunch of books." That's just so sad.

Silverblatt thinks people don't read because those people never really learned how to read. He has an interesting point. He says we are able to read--we learned to recognize the words but not how to enjoy reading. He references an essay by Randall Jarrell that said in the 1880s, fifth-graders (I'm going to repeat that--fifth graders) were reading Byron, Dickens, Shakespeare, Emerson, Cooper, Cervantes. When did you read books from those writers? High school? College? Ever? Come to think of it, I didn't even read Jarrell until graduate school.

Silverblatt also talks about how part of reading is incomprehension. He says, "The greatest books are the books that you come to understand more deeply with time, with age, with rereading." I love that. I have books that I tried to read in college but just couldn't get into them. But I have since realized that I just wasn't able to comprehend them yet. This is especially true of poetry.

There's a great scene in the play Vanities where Kathy says that she made a list of all those books they were supposed to read in high school and college, and she's been reading them--"And they're actually good." I do the same thing. I have a lists of books that I really think I should have read or that I should reread because I don't think I really appreciated them during the first reading. Ulysses by James Joyce is my white whale. I really want to read and understand that book. It's a huge list, by the way, that I don't think I'll ever get through. Especially since every time I start one of those books, a new mystery comes out or I hear of a new writer that I just have to read first. That's why I usually have 2 or 3 books going at once. I think I have a bit of an attention span problem.

Like the people in Silverblatt's article, I'm always saying, "I don't have any free time to read." Well, that's not true. I do have free time to read, but for some bizarre reason, I feel guilty if I'm just sitting around reading a book. It seems like a luxury to me, and when I indulge, I think that I really should be cleaning or doing all those things I need to do around the house but always put off or just working on something more tangible. Sad, really.

So, let's make more time for reading and not feel guilty about it. But I don't think you necessarily have to go back and read the Western Canon. I still believe that just because something is a classic or is in an anthology does not mean you have to like it. Whether you read for fun, read to learn, or read to pass the time, you're still going to have likes and dislikes. But I do think it is possible to not like something but still appreciate the skill behind it. But you don't have to like all of it. Personally, I'm not going to read Moby Dick. I don't like Melville. I read Billy Bud in college, and of all the American literature I've had, that is the book that was torture to finish. Now, maybe if I tried again with my now-life experiences I might have more appreciation, but I don't care. I don't want to read Moby Dick.

Oh, and the really cool thing about Silverblatt's article is that there is a sidebar with resources, so if you don't knew who David Foster Wallace is (and I didn't) he gives you a little information on him.

So, read any good books lately?

MEME

You wouldn't believe how long it took me to do this MEME. I know, I know, a lot of people have already done it and moved on. I'm gonna make up my own MEME one of these days.

Oh, and thanks everyone for your kind concern. I'm feeling better and am going to try not to turn this blog into a how-the-MS-is-doing-today journal.

And, here we go:

1. Three things that scare me:
Clowns (this is Jay's fault)
My car breaking down on the side of the road
Carneys! (Thank you Austin Powers)

2. Three (non-internet) people who make me laugh:
Billy Connolly
Jon Stewart
Ellen DeGeneres

3. Three things I hate the most:
Cruelty
Hypocrisy
Liver and onions

4. Three things I don't understand:
People always on their cell phones
How airplanes stay up in the sky (But don’t tell me—let it be magic)
Paris Hilton’s popularity

5. Three things I'm doing right now:
Procrastinating
Working on a To Do list instead of actually doing
Drinking a cup of tea

6. Three things I want to do before I die:
Fly first class
Sing in a band
Remember to get everything I need from the grocery store in one trip

7. Three things I can do:
Answer the Arts and Leisure questions in Trivial Pursuit
Pat my head and rub my tummy
Crafty things

8. Three ways to describe my personality:
Approachable
Stubborn
Analyzes too much

9. Three things I can't do:
Spell
Remember phone numbers
Be a size 6

10. Three things I think you should listen to:
Your grandparents’ stories
NPR
Music that moves you

11. Three things you should never listen to:
Politicians
Your inner demons
Gossip

12. Three things I'd like to learn:
Spin wool into yarn
Dog sledding
French/Italian/Latin/Gaelic—any language, really

13. Three favorite foods:
Indian food
Pie—any kind of pie
Warm bread, with really good quality butter

14. Three beverages I drink regularly:
Water
Milk
Coffee

15. Three shows I watched as a kid:
The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mystery Hour
Wonderful World of Disney
Starsky and Hutch

16. Three people I'm tagging:
Anyone who needs something to blog

Here We Go Again

My leg hurts. Dammit. I haven’t increased the weights of my workout nor have I increased the intensity or duration of my aerobics. Know what that means? Yep. It’s the MS. Again. But this time, I’m not scared and I’m not feeling sorry for myself—I am Pissed. Off.

Do those 5 stages of grief work for diagnosis, too? If so, I’m going backwards. I accepted the diagnosis very early, then the depression hit. I didn’t do much bargaining—that’s a waste of time. Now I’m just angry. That means denial is next. Well, that should be fun.

So, I’m having muscle spasms down the top of my left thigh. Sometimes, it’s in the back of my thigh. And there’s a cramp in the hip flexor area. It’s known as spasticity. Al asked if I’ve told the MS nurse I see. No. Wanna know why? Because she’s going to ask me “Are you on your period?” And I’m gonna say, “Why the f*** do you wanna know????” So, the answer would be yes.

See, this is one of the reasons MS is so frustrating. Nothing I do seems to bring on the symptoms; otherwise, I could do a better job of stopping them. No, it’s things I can’t really control. Infection—even some small harboring infection that I don’t even know is there. Extreme heat—I can wear a cooling bandana around my neck, but I can’t completely avoid the summer. Menstrual cycle—Oh the wonders of being female. Can’t control that one either. Well, I guess I could. I could take my birth control pills continuously and deny myself the period that some doctors are saying I don’t really have to have. But that just seems wrong. Besides, I’ve never been one to consider that time of the month as my “curse.” What a horrible euphemism that is. Makes it sound like some Victorian ailment that proves the inferiority of women.

And there’s really nothing I can do about this symptom, either. I’ve never had a pain that I couldn’t just take an aspirin and knock it out. With spasticity, the prescription is for muscle relaxants. The ones that completely knock me out and make me loopy for a long time. The ones they want me to take 3 times a day. Three times a day! The last time this happened (the time that it scared me), I decided that it was a mind game and that I wasn’t going to let this slow me down. OK, so maybe I have slid into the denial stage already. Anyway, I went to the gym, I ran every errand I could think of, I cleaned, I cooked, I basically did more that I normally do. Then I read in one of my books on MS “really, the only thing you can do to help spasticity is to rest.” Well, hell. So, this time, I’m still working out and doing the things I need to do, but I’ve slowed down a little and decided I don’t really have to be super-MS-patient-woman-person-whatever.

So, my leg hurts. Dammit. Oh, I said that already, didn’t I? Well, so maybe there is a little self-pity. And maybe there is a little bit of fear. The MS nurse has told me several times that just because I’m having symptoms, even symptoms I haven’t had before, does not mean the MS is getting worse. It’s just the way the disease is. In other words, ya gotta live with it. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But my leg still hurts.

Kate and Pete

I admit it. I’m a Shakespeare geek. I like to read the plays, I like to watch the plays, I like to talk about the plays, I like actors who regularly perform the plays, and I love Stratford-upon-Avon and all it’s Shakespearian tourist traps. I fondly remember sitting in The Swan theatre in Stratford and listened to an actress from the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC) lead a seminar about the why she portrayed Isabella in the latest production of Measure for Measure (a very disturbing play) the way she did. I don’t care if he really wrote the plays or not, I like them any way.

But I’m not a snob about it. I think alternative interpretations are great and don’t have to see men in tights professing loudly in iambic pentameter. I love seeing different versions because it’s always interesting to see how a director/actor/screenplay adaptor interprets the work. A production at my college had A Comedy of Errors set in the Wild West, and a production of Taming at the Shrew here in Nebraska was set in the 1950s of Las Vegas.

I love The Taming of the Shrew; it’s one of my favorites. I think it’s hilarious, and feminists and chauvinists who think it really is about taming a woman aren’t paying attention to what’s written (my take on that to come later). And a fantastic adaptation ran on BBCAmerica recently as part of the BBC’s ShakespeaRe-Told series. It ran in England in 2005, so we’re getting a little late, but thank goodness we got it! And BBCAmerica, by the way, is the only reason we have cable (well, that and the Speed Channel for Al).

So, anyway, in this version, Katherine (Shirley Henderson) is a successful politician, being primed to take over as leader of her party, by suggesting that she get married. She’s also wildly outspoken and all emotion, usually anger. Pete (or Petruchio—Rufus Sewell) is an eccentric rogue whose family fortune is gone and who needs to “wife it wealthily.” (By the way, if they do a bio-pic on Freddy Mercury, Sewell is a shoe in.) Katherine and Pete are a perfect passionate match. Henderson and Sewell are amazing in these roles, as are all the actors. Sally Wainwright has written one of the most clever adaptations I have ever seen. She’s interspersed actual lines from the play, which seem completely natural for a crazy but educated Pete to say. All of the plot lines and scenes are there—Bianca falling for Lucentio, Katherine’s mother (in this version) who obviously prefers her beautiful and famous younger daughter, Pete showing up in bizarre clothes to the wedding, the country house where Pete “tames” Katherine, Harry (Hortensio) losing Bianca but marrying a wealthy widow, and even the final monologue where Katherine scolds her sister and mother for not treating her husband as “her lord, her life, her keeper.”

But in this 21st century adaptation, when Bianca challenges Katherine’s last speech and tells her to put her hand beneath her husband’s foot if she truly feels that way, Katherine says she would if he asked, but he wouldn’t because she would not ask the same of him. Pete and Katherine, man and wife, are on the same level. Of course, when they are alone in the elevator, Katherine tells Pete she is pregnant but he’ll have to stay home with the kids because she is not giving up his career, which he readily agrees with. So, who tamed whom?

Now, whether you like it or not, I’m going to indulge in a little literary criticism here and tell you why I think this is the only way The Taming of the Shrew can end. In the final scene (Act 5, Scene 1), Petruchio and Katherine have come home for Bianca’s wedding. Petruchio bets the other newly married men that his wife is more obedient than theirs. One at a time, the men send an order through a Page to come to them. Bianca tells the Page she is busy and will not come. The widow sends the Page back to say, “She says you have some goodly jest in hand:/She will not come: she bids you come to her.” Katherine has heard all of this and has seen the Page come twice, now, to ask the same thing of a wife. There is no doubt in my mind that she has figured out what is going on, since this is just the kind of test that Petruchio would have given her. So when she is called, she comes, and when he tells her he doesn’t like her hat and to take it off, she does. Then she drags those ungrateful wives in and gives her over-the-top speech on how women should honor their husbands—those hard-working husbands who ask nothing more than “love, fair looks, and true obedience.” The speech is indulgent and hits on every aspect (or stereotype) of what it is to be a woman and a wife. And because Kate does this, her husband wins the bet, another dowry, which she will most certainly benefit from. Petruchio and Kate kiss and are off, victorious as a partnership.

Does Katherine really believe this speech? I don’t think so. As has been set up in other scenes in which Katherine and Petruchio try to outdo each other in outrageousness, this seems like another contest. The difference is that this time, they win as a couple against the others. And Katherine knows this is a contest when she enters the room because she has seen her sister and the widow turn away the same request from their husbands. And, she gets one up on her family and the town, and revenge is oh so sweet to Katherine.

Besides, do you really think Shakespeare would have written a serious treaty on how a woman should behave with Queen Elizabeth in the audience? I don’t think so. I think he found the balance of stating what the masses want to hear but making it so outrageous that there’s no way the speaker can mean what she is saying.

Oh, and that hat that Katherine takes off? Many times the scene is staged so that as they are leaving, Katherine points to the hat, which Petruchio quickly picks up and hands to his wife.

But don’t take my word for it. See it! Rent it! Read it! Revel in it! Then make up your own mind.

I Wasn't Going To Do This, But . . .

I feel that I shouldn’t let the day go by without some comment. I’m not really sure what to say because to be honest, I’m not really sure how I feel. I haven’t categorized or analyzed my feelings about 9/11 too much. So, maybe this would be a good time to do that.

I’m disgusted. It’s impossible to have any kind of tribute to the memory of the innocent people who lost their lives on 9/11 without that nagging feeling that it’s all an act. Oh, I’m sure there is some emotion in these politicians and pundits; you’d have to really be cold-hearted not to have some kind of emotional response. But I can’t help thinking that while all these tributes were being planned, election advisors were consulted on what to say, how to look, and on the best way to use this moment for political advantage. That’s not just being cynical, that’s just the way things seem to happen in this country. But you can bet Bush won’t have his sleeves rolled up this time—nice somber suit. Funeral-like but respectful.

I’m angry. What have we learned in the 5 years since 9/11? We’ve learned that there was not a link between Iraq and Al-Qaeda, nor were there weapons of mass destruction being built; therefore, there was no justification for the thousands of lives lost in a war in Iraq. And we’ve learned that while they deplete our military sources in other countries, our government is unable to take care of its own during a devastating natural disaster. And we’ve learned that all you have to say is “I take full responsibility” and we’re all supposed to bow down and pretend that everything is ok now.

I’m conflicted. I’m stuck in the middle, and I don’t like it. I live in a military world, and I can tell you honestly that you all have a lot to be proud of in your military. They are the hardest working, most honorable, and most sincere people I have met. They believe they are working for their country and trying to make the world a better place for all of us. I support the military, but I don’t support this administration, and that puts me in an awkward position. Retired generals can come out against the handling of the war, but active duty people and their dependents shouldn’t. Oh, it’s ok to have an opinion, it’s just not a good idea to voice it too loudly. Mainly because the majority of people are not going to agree with you, any way. And I’m very good at keeping the peace and just towing the line.

I’m sad. For all those who lost loved ones and those who lost their lives, I feel that pain. I remember turning on the news and watching the plane crash into the Twin Towers and the feeling of unbelief that came with that. I knew it was a different world now and that things would never really go back to “normal.” The base locked down, and I fielded phone calls from scared family and friends, telling them that Al was fine, no he hasn’t gone any where, and no, I didn’t know any more than they did.

I’m proud. Well, I am. I’m proud of the way we as Americans flew flags proudly and showed a united front in the face of terrorism. I’m proud of a military that puts their lives on the line. I’m proud of those who are left behind—military families and those who lost loved ones during the attacks—for continuing to fight for some kind of normalcy, while trying to be strong for those who are depending on them. And I’m proud that there’s a way for people to voice their opinions, whether on a blog, in an essay, or on a soapbox.

The Test Proves It

I'm a Wit! Who knew? What are you?

Thanks Lisa for the link!

the Wit (71% dark, 34% spontaneous, 26% vulgar)

your humor style: CLEAN | COMPLEX | DARK You like things edgy, subtle, and smart. I guess that means you're probably an intellectual, but don't take that to mean pretentious. You realize 'dumb' can be witty--after all isn't that the Simpsons' philosophy?--but rudeness for its own sake, 'gross-out' humor and most other things found in a fraternity leave you totally flat. I guess you just have a more cerebral approach than most. You have the perfect mindset for a joke writer or staff writer. Your sense of humor takes the most thought to appreciate, but it's also the best, in my opinion. You probably loved the Office. If you don't know what I'm talking about, check it out here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/theoffice/. PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Jon Stewart - Woody Allen - Ricky Gervais The 3-Variable Funny Test! - it rules - If you're interested, try my best friend's best test: The Genghis Khan Genetic Fitness Masterpiece

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 94% on darkness You scored higher than 14% on spontaneity You scored higher than 24% on vulgarity

Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

I Was Just Thinkin'

I love those "identity theft" commercials--the ones where the victims have the voice of the person who stole their idetity. I especially like the two old ladies talking about their new motocycles, shoot. Yeah, shoot.

____________________________

House is back on! I love that show. I don't always watch it, but then again, there's nothing that I always watch any more. Thank Goodness for DVR--I can set it to record the series, then I don't have to remember when it's on. It also helps when I missed the final episode of Charmed (aaarrrrrggghhhh!) because I set the recorder to tape it, and by God, I will see that final episode. And life will be good again.

____________________________

My favorite quote in the article about Path to 9/11 in the New York Times:

It’s not the inaccuracies of “The Path to 9/11” that make ABC’s mini-series so upsetting. It’s the situation on the ground in Afghanistan now.

Umm, yeah, it kind of is the inaccuracies that are upsetting. This really isn't something you want to take "dramatic license" with, is it? Do you really think Joe Average is going to pay attention to the "fictionalized" statement with the miniseries? Or do you think he or she is going to take it all as gospel since it's on TV?

I won't be watching it. Actually, I'm probably not going to turn on the tv at all from Sunday until Tuesday. I'm sorry if it sounds insensitive, but I don't want to see all the 9/11 drama replayed for me, and the politicians profusely pontificating.

_____________________________

We have good friends coming in on Monday to stay for the week. We'll be planning our trip to Italy! Unfortunately, Al can't get any time off work like he thought he could, so it'll just be the three of us. Just between you and me, I think Al prefers it that way--go to work, come home, and all the work's done! He's really so easy-going that he doesn't care where we go, what we do, or where we stay. Our friends are flying up in their plane. How much do they suck? I'm hoping they bring their dachshund, Milo, but Milo doesn't travel well. He doesn't get sick, but he whines very loudly all the time he's in the car/plane/whatever. But he's so cute.

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I'm enjoying my new sewing machine (you knew I would, didn't you). There's a Pfaff club at the store I bought it at, so I went to my first one today and learned how to bind a quilt using the 1/4-inch foot with a guide. Cool. Not that I ever seem to finish a quilt to the point that it's ready for binding, but it's nice to know that when the time comes, I can do it!

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Do you ever feel like no matter what you do it's never good enough? You work out, but you really should "step it up" to get a better work out. You watch your diet, but you should drink more water or eat more vegetables and fruits. You dust and pick up the clutter around the house, but you should have vacuumed and mopped, too. You try to be a good person and go to church, but you should be bringing unsaved people to church with you. You try to cook good dinners, but you really should eat those leftovers so you don't throw out any food. Geez! I hate the word "should." Really, who's to say what I "should" do? OK, so I put more pressure on myself than anyone else, but really, I shouldn't. Wait. No. But really, I am not going to do that any more. And I'm going to start by cutting "should" out of my vocabulary.

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I had flashbacks to the 70s this week. I watched Jaws and All That Jazz. Yeah, they're a little dated and pretty much stuck in the 70s, but I still love those movies. Hmmmm, maybe it has something to do with Roy Scheider? Oh, and it's always kind of cool to watch those movies as an adult because now I get all the jokes and allusions that I didn't get as a kid. Like when Quint says his toast "Here's to swimmin' with bow-legged women." I never go that as a kid. Yeah, I was that naive.

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One last thing. One of my best friend's mother passed away on Monday. By Wednesday, real estate agents had started leaving their cards on the front door of her mother's house. Vultures.

Well, that's enough. Have a great weekend everyone. Posting may be a little sparatic next week. But I'll still be checking in on you guys!

Pollock WannaBe

A good friend sent this to me, and I'm having way too much fun with it. Create your own Jackson Pollock masperpiece. Click on the link and move your mouse to get going. It took me a minute to realize that it didn't "start" until I moved my mouse. Clicking on the mouse changes the colors, and the speed in which you move the mouse makes changes too. ALSO - you can change colors by stopping your mouse and then restarting.

I love Jackson Pollock, and this was a lot of fun. The only downfall is that you can't do much actual splatters, more like streaks and blobs. Still fun though.

Here's the link: www.jacksonpollock.org

Did you ever see the movie about Pollock staring Ed Harris? It was amazing.

So, how did your masterpiece turn out?

Needles Flying

I've had a block about what to blog about. There's nothing going on, I'm not in a reflective mood, and I'm staying busy with other things.

So, here's one of the things I'm busy with:




This lovely shawl-to-be is called an Aran Pocket Shawl and is in Folk Shawls. It's also my grandmother's Christmas present. I hope you can see the pattern; it's really pretty. But, the pattern is in sets of 18 rows and I'm not used to it yet. So, it took me over 3 hours to knit 5 inches. This shawl is 87 inches long. I'm in for a lot of knitting. Luckily, this yarn is gorgeous to work with. It's Jo Sharp Silkroad and is made up of wool, silk, and cashmere. And even better, I got it on sale! There is a downside to that, however. As I'm knitting, I'm looking in my sack of 16 balls of yarn, worrying that I'm going to run out before I finish. And this yarn was on clearance. Maybe I should do a search on the web and get a couple of more. I still have so much to learn about knitting, and one of those things is to know how much yarn to get if I'm substituting a different yarn. Oh well. It'll be beautiful anyway. And my Nana would love anything that I made, that's what Nanas do best.

Phoebe's Gone Home

It was a lot of fun having Phoebe stay with us. It's different having a big dog in the house, since we're used to smaller and medium-sized dogs. Big dogs are much easier to pet--when Phoebe sat by me or lay down next to the couch, I didn't have to stretch to far to pet her. And she loooooved to be petted.

She loved to play and was very demanding. But at night, I'd say, "Bedtime!" and she'd grab one of her toys and head upstairs to sleep at the foot of our bed. And the retreiver in her manifested in that every time someone came home, she'd greet them at the door with a toy in her mouth.

Alas, if we all harbored ideas that this would make Al want to get another dog, it didn't. He was ready for Phoebe to go home a day before she left. But considering that we've got trips planned next year, it's probably not a good time to bring in a new dog, just to leave him/her for 2 weeks at a time in a 2-month period.

Anyway, here are a few more pics of her. She's just so darn cute!

A little bit of separation anxiety



This is one of her "wanna play" looks--see the ball on the floor? She just barked at me to get my attention.



This is the "up close begging" to play position

The Three Rs

The latest SAT scores are in and they aren’t pretty. As a matter of fact they’re low, lower than anyone wants to see.

This is an unusual situation in that it’s a new test and a new essay writing section has been added. I don’t doubt that those factors played a part, and we probably shouldn’t jump to too many conclusions.

But what’s the fun in that?

OK, so I was a senior editor at a publisher who produced, created, wrote, and graded these kinds of standardized tests for individual states. Coming from that point of view only, I have a guess of why this happened. Because state standardized tests are created by administrators, who also set the curriculum, and teachers have to teach to that test. So, real knowledge is not being taught, and the kids are suffering when it comes to these national standardized tests.

Before the big push came for states to set exams for students, a standardized test was used. It was a commercial test the school system or state could buy for all their students to take. The kids in California took the same test that the kids in Alabama took. But now, that kind of general test isn’t good enough. School administrators and local Department of Education people want a test specifically created for their state. Millions, and I mean millions, of dollars later, they have a test that has been approved by the DOE and administrators. Oh, teachers have some input along the way. That is IF the school district will give them per diem and not dock their pay and give them the day off in the first place to come to the big meetings where the items (or questions) are reviewed.

But, knowledge is knowledge you say! These kids should be able to pass the tests no matter what their state tests. Yeah, except that there are many different testing companies putting out these tests. And each company has its own way of doing things and wording things. Plus, the administrators have their own standards for how things should be worded.

Let me give you a little example. One of the states we did a test for had strict rules for the stories that had to be specifically written for their reading comprehension. Some of the rules (I’m paraphrasing, but you’ll get the idea):

No single mothers.
Grandparents must always be seen as energetic and healthy.
Fathers cannot be alone with daughters.
No adult males, including fathers, should hug or otherwise touch the girls in the story.
If a mother is not mentioned in the story, a reason for her absence must be stated, such as she’s gone to the store, so that the children do not seem to be abandoned.

In addition to those parameters, we were constantly told to rewrite items that contained items not everyone has. So, no questions about cars, homes, certain toys, etc. were allowed. One item was thrown out because it was about a bookcase, and not everyone can afford a bookcase.

I hope you get the idea why this quickly turns ridiculous. So, it doesn’t surprise me at all that the scores are lower than in the past for the SAT. It’s not nearly as well controlled as the state test.

Promoted to dog-sitter

We had a great day yesterday. Al has been promoted and everyone is happy. The parties, both of them, went well. The sub and the cake went fast at work, then the chili and everything else went fast that night.

During promotion ceremonies, the commander gives a little speech about the person's accomplishments. I sat there thinking, "I didn't know he did that!" Well, maybe I did, but I had never heard all of it described with such impressive adjectives and facts. For Al, it's just his job and he quickly will tell you that it's not him, it's the help he gets from his co-workers and luck. But that's one of the things that makes him special. He thanks the people he works with and that work for him first. Well, actually, he thanked his wife for putting up with him for all these years, first.

Then, instead of giving me the obligatory (his word, not mine) roses, he gave me something he knew I would like more--a Mont Blanc pen! Holy shit! He announced to everyone that I have a pen fetish, which is true, then he gave me this lovely pen. I'm almost afraid to write with it. Almost.

I am unworthy of this marriage. Now, don't try to make me feel better, I'm serious. As I listened to the colonel talk about Al's accomplishments, I realized that in the last couple of years, I've become apathetic. Apathetic to military things, to his job, to what comes next for us, and to my part in it. Granted, Al's had his moments, too, when he's a little apathetic, and I know we can't always both be totally attentive all the time, but I think I've fallen down on the job here, so to speak. So, now I just have to do something about it. Does anyone have a time machine?

On a happier note, we are dog sitting this weekend! She is the sweetest boxer mix, and her name is Pheobe. She's 11 years old and about 70 pounds and is so well trained. When I woke up this morning, I wondered if she needed to go outside yet, and about that time I heard her jingling as she came upstairs to find us. Oh, and she was carrying one of her stuffed toys with her. She's so cute. And she has already realized where her cookies are being kept and leads us to them regularly.

Here are a couple of pics of her:





Isn't she cute?!?

Have a great long weekend everyone! I think we're just going to hang out with the dog.

Social Butterflies

Happy Wednesday!

This is just a quick note to tell you guys that I probably won't be blogging for a couple of day. My hubby has been promoted and the ceremony and party are tomorrow. I just recovered from the last party, and here we go again! Any excuse for a party. I've got cookies to bake, appetizers to make, and a huge pot of chili to cook. I know, I know, it isn't really cold enough for chili, but I'm feeding a lot of people, most of them retired military guys who can eat like you wouldn't believe. At the last party we went through 4 pounds of meatballs and 3 jars of sauce for meatball subs, and not a crumb left.

Didn't I say something once about being done entertaining?

In the News Today . . .

My day always starts off with reading the newspaper. I read our local paper, then I get on the computer and get the headlines from the NY Times and the Scotsman through email. There are days that all I do is scan headlines and head straight to the comics and crossword puzzle, but it's been an interesting day today.

Charges have been dropped against John Karr. You all probably know this by now because it was on the news last night, too. In the immortal words of Monty Python, "He's a looney!" His lawyers say they are all "deeply distressed" about how poor Johnny was dragged out of Thailand. I'm sorry, didn't he want to be dragged out so he wouldn't have to be in a Thailand jail? Didn't he have a nice, comfy flight back to the US? Didn't he confess? And can't they do DNA testing a little closer to Thailand so that they would have known this before they cost the Colorado taxpayers a small fortune?

There are lots of pictures of Bush at the gulf coast with his sleeves rolled up. Guess he means business! Brown (former FEMA scapegoat) was on the Today show this morning making his case and plugging his book. Side note here, does anyone else think that Matt Lauer gets a nasty, high-pitch whine to his voice when he's asking the "hard questions"? Anyway, so Bush the Re-builder is touring on the anniversary and trying to play down what a fiasco it all was. And I'm still amazed at the people I know who still say we should just abandon New Orleans because "it was a cess pool anyway."

Seems that three years ago, then-Deputy Secretary of State Richard Armitage confessed to the FBI that he was the guy that started it all by dropping Valerie Plame's name in a "chit-chat" with Robert Novak. Oh, but he wasn't trying to underuct Plame because her husband was criticizing Bush; he didn't even know Plame was covert. Uh-huh. Isn't it amazing how the people in this administration just don't know anything?

Not finding what you want at the job center? Well, go to JobCentrePlus in Scotland! They're advertising for lap dancers, pole dancers, and other "entertainers." Surprisingly, women's groups don't like this, saying it is sending out a message that objectifying women is OK. In 2003, a woman who owns a chain of sex toy stores won a case to advertise for help at job centers because it was discrimination not to let her. This left an opening for clubs who need entertainers to advertise there, too. The women's groups say, "pole dancing is far removed from working behind a counter in a high-street shop." Would a sex toys shop be a high-street shop? We've come a long way, baby!

And one more thing. Here's an article about the Edinburgh International Book Festival. Attending this is on my list of things I want to do before I die. It's a short article, but there are links to more informaiton.

Off the Top of My Head

We watched a BBQ competition on the Outdoor Network Sunday evening, and now I’m craving BBQ. The funniest moment on the show was when they unveiled the meat the contestants would have to cook and it was a whole hog! Yes, the whole, skinned and gutted hog--as the emcee said, “From rooter to tooter.”

We used to go to a pig roast every year at our friend the Judy’s place. Jim would bury the hog in a pit with special seasonings. And it was sooooo good. But it was good because I saw it as food on a platter. As opposed to a pig roast we went to in Florida that was the whole hog on the grill and we just walked up and they cut meat and put it on the plate. Ew. I just can’t eat things that look like what they were. They can’t be looking at me.

Also in Florida, I ordered a soft-shell crab sandwich. I don’t know why, I knew soft-shelled crab was cooked whole, but I had a brain fart and ordered it any way. My sandwich came out with legs sticking out from under the bun. I took a couple of big bites because Al was laughing at me and daring me, but that was all I could do.

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After a long discussion with Al about how we need to curb our spending and put more in savings in case he decides to retire in 4 years, I went out and bought a sewing machine. Yeah, it was a great price; yeah, it’s a great machine; yeah, I’ve been saying all year that I want a better machine than my 18-year-old Kenmore with a whopping 4 stitches; yeah, I called Al from the store and asked what he thought and he said get it and Merry Christmas. But I still felt and still do feel guilty about buying it. So guilty, I was crying when I got home, carrying my new machine. Al thought there was something awful wrong, and when I finally told him in between sobs, he just hugged me and told me it was alright. I was almost inconsolable. Then, he started laughing. I could feel his shoulders jumping up and down, and he said, “You crack me up.” So, my sobs turned into laughter. Only I could cry uncontrollably and feel guilty about buying something I’ve been wanting for a long time. But, I don’t buy big stuff like that for myself. The most expensive indulgence for me is to get my hair colored every 8 to 10 weeks. And that’s really more of a necessity, don't ya think? It’s budgeted!

So, I have a new sewing machine that has already made my quilt block sewing much more enjoyable. It’s a Pfaff ClassicStyle Home 2029. And the best part? They’re going to teach me how to use it! So, I don’t have to rely on my ability to follow a user manual, which is always a good thing.

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There’s an interesting article in the NY Times today wondering if stars are really worth that huge salary—A Big Star May Not a Profitable Movie Make (you may have to register to read it). It says there really isn’t a correlation between the star and the profits, so why do they pay them so much? Yeah, some stars do bring in huge profits, but some stars also choose movies they know people want to see them in. And some stars are in really good movies—the movie makes the star. It was a pretty cool article. I’m one of those who believes acting is a difficult thing and I don’t fault them for wanting a good salary, but c’mon. Tom Cruise makes $75 million a picture! But then, unlike many women, I am not a Tom Cruise fan. I liked Risky Business, but that was pretty much it. $75 million? Hmmmph.

A Little Background Information

This week's list of 25 aren't really about me personally. Or about me as a person. I mean, they're about me, but they aren't personal. Does that make sense? Oh well, here it goes!

151. I’m not much of a housekeeper. I wish I was good enough that Al wouldn’t notice when I’ve actually cleaned.
152. He’s always sounds so surprised. “You’ve cleaned!”
153. Al’s better at cleaning than I, and he almost always cleans up after dinner. He says that since I cook, he’ll clean up.
154. When people come over for dinner for the first time, they are always a little surprised at Al collecting the dishes and cleaning. The women ask how I trained him to do that, and the guys look at him like a traitor. Yeah, like I could “train” him to do something he didn’t want to do.
155. So, I the rest of the house may not be in great shape, but that kitchen is clean!
156. The house we’re in now is only the second house we’ve ever bought. The first house was over 10 years ago.
157. We usually rent since we move pretty much every 3 years.
158. At each new town Al says we should buy then rent it out because that’s how somebody he knows makes money. Um Hmm. And just who would have take care of all of that while he’s deployed or TDY(temporary duty)? Me!
159. I can counter each positive story with a horror story when it comes to renting out a house, especially if you don’t live in that town.
160. Therefore, we are wonderful tenants. We take care of the homes we’re living in.
161. I would rather live off-base. Yes, in essence, if we lived on base we wouldn’t pay rent or utilities (electricity, gas, and water), but actually we do pay because if you live on base, you don’t get a housing allowance. But the housing allowance isn’t enough to cover mortgage/rent or utilities any way, but then again, it’s not meant to.
162. When you live on base, you also pay by adhering to the strict housing rules. The two biggies being keeping the lawn mowed, edged and weeded and shoveling all snow from driveways and sidewalks (pain in the butt in upstate New York) immediately after snowfall, then shoveling snow again off the driveway and sidewalks after the trucks come by and clear the roads by putting all of it in front of your driveway and on your sidewalk.
163. Now you might say, “We all have to mow our lawns and shovel our driveway.” Yes, but do you get a nasty ticket on your house if your lawn is considered too long or you haven’t shoveled your driveway? Then do you have to take that ticket into your boss so that he can sign off on it, confirming that you have taken care of said offense?
164. We called the people who drove around for inspections (once a week) the “Yard Nazis.”
165. At our first assignment, we got a ticket for not turning our porch light off in the morning. Al took it in to his commanding officer, who said, “Did you turn it off?” Nod yes. “OK then.” And he threw it in a basket on his desk.
166. But this is serious! If you get 3 tickets, you’re kicked off base. And the military will only move you once, so the moving expenses will be your own. And it just doesn’t look good to your commanding officer to get kicked off base.
167. We ran into Yard Nazis again in the San Antonio neighborhood we lived in. They had the Homeowners’ Association from hell.
168. One man on the board would stand outside in his yard and threaten people who had dogs, yelling at them to not let their dogs “crap all over the place.” He said this to Al once, and Al said, “She just marked. I picked up the other part, do you want it for proof?” then held the bag up in the old fart’s face.
169. This is also the neighborhood where the guy across the street shot at a dog that had chased his wife and their little dog. Problem is, he didn’t pay attention where he aimed and a bullet hit our circuit breaker box. The door was strong enough to stop it, thank Goodness, but there was a dent.
170. He shot through our neighbor’s garage door, then it went through the door into the house, and then into the laundry room, where their daughter was leaned over getting clothes out of the dryer. If she had been standing, it would have hit her in the head.
171. The cops came and I think he got a ticket for discharging a weapon. But he paid dearly emotionally because he felt horrible. Not that he’s excused for his behaviour, though.
172. I’ll never forget that sound, and Al telling me to stay in the house. Those movies where people are shooting guns and bullets are flying every where? No where near as terrifying as it really sounds.
173. Besides the bullet in the house, San Antonio was a nice assignment. Great food. And we made some great friends.
174. It was San Antonio where Al learned to brew beer. It’s much easier than you’d think. We joined a brewing club called the Bexar Brewers (Bexar being the county SA is in).
175. We had “meetings” where we tasted each others’ beer. And if you didn’t have a beer that month, there was a style for the month and you could bring commercial beer. I was usually the designated driver. Well, someone has to do it.

Blockhead

I told myself many times that I would not wait until the last minute to do these quilt blocks for the next block-of-the-month meeting. But I never listen to myself. Plus, I screwed up several times and even had to go back for more material. Triangles! Nothing but triangles! Do you know how hard triangles are to do? Well let me tell you. They're friggin' impossible!

OK, I'm better now. But that "Flying Geese" pattern is a pain in the butt. I lost count how many times I ripped the seams out and resewed, and still my points don't point very well or line up. But, I'm as done as I'm going to get. So, without further ado, the latest 2 blocks. (http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifThe first 2 blocks can be seen here--July 19, Energy Abound.)

Old Fasioned Star



This one was fairly simple. Big triangles aren't so bad, so this one turned out pretty good, I think.

Century



Not so happy with this one, but it turned out better than I thought it would. I wouldn't have picked out these colors and patterns, but that's what came in the kit. And considering it only cost me $4.50 to make this block, I'm not complaining. But it took me hours! Hours I tell you! BTW, the center blocks along the edge of the larger block, the ones with two triangles in the center, that's "Flying Geese." I don't know why, but I guess if you have a quilt full of those (heaven forbid) it looks like the pattern geese make when flying.

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On the cooking front, I think it's time I made some pesto. Look at the way my basil has grown! And I have a ton of mint, too. So, mojitos for everyone! Come to think of it, the rosemary and the sage are doing well, too. Hmmmmm. Gotta think on that one.

Randomness

It’s already August and I still haven’t finished some of the Christmas projects I’m working on. I haven’t even started some of the other projects I wanted to give away as gifts. It may be a knit-less Christmas for some this year. Was that a big sigh of relief I heard out there? I know who you are!

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This has been one of those weeks I just couldn’t get motivated to do anything. Oh, I did the things that had to be done—bought groceries, took a friend to the airport, cooked dinner, got squished by a mammogram machine—but other than that, I just kind of stared at the walls, waiting for inspiration. Damn no-help walls.

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Hubby had a major exercise in his section this week. It was a little stressful, to say the least. Generals had to be briefed, standards had to be met and preferably exceeded, and it all had to go off without a hitch. It should be over by this afternoon, so I sent cookies in with Al for the guys. Gotta keep them liking him! BTW the cookies were the ones I call Road Trip Cookies. You can find the recipe here under "Craving" March 8, 2006.

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I have wonderful, wonderful news! I’m going to Scotland next March! Our favorite bar here, the Dundee Dell, has a group that goes every 3 years. The Dell has the largest selection of scotch outside of Scotland. I’m not the connoisseur Al is, but I like a wee dram every now and then. Anyhoo, we’re off with the other boozers to tour distilleries on a whirlwind trip. I’ll post more about it later and let ya in on the itinerary. One of the best things about this trip? I don’t have to plan a blessed thing. All I have to do is get on the bus. We’re going to places I would have planned to go to, but now I don’t have to!

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We’re also planning a trip to Italy in May next year. Yeah, I know, we suck. But we’ve been careful (and lucky in some instances) and it looks like we can swing both trips. The Italy one is a little scarier. I have to do some planning for this one. Everyone tells me not to worry and just have fun, but I’m way too controlling for that. I won’t feel OK until I at least have our hotel reservations and know we have places to stay. The rest we can work out any time. If it was just me, I might wait until I got there and just find a place, but there will be 6 of us. It was going to be 4, now it’s going to be 6. That’s a lot of different personalities to please, and I always seem to think it’s my job to make sure everyone is pleased.

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Al’s going out of town for a couple of days next week. I want to go see a movie but can’t decide. Should it be some funny escape, like Talladaga Nights or Accepted, or maybe something scary, like The Descent or The Night Listener, or eye candy, like Scoop (Hugh Jackman), Pirates (Johnny Depp), Miami Vice (Colin Farrell, Jamie Fox), orhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif maybe animation, like Cars or Monster House. Hmmmmm. No art houses here, so it’ll have to be something mainstream. What do you think?

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And here's a link to videos about the movie 300. I don't know much about it because I've never seen the graphic novel it's based on. But I do know that there are a lot of well toned, muscular men running around in loin cloth kinds of things. This is really more for Newt. And damn you for reminding me about Gerard Butler!

Flattened Like A Pancake

Warning: Men, and some squeamish women, this post will be about the dreaded mammogram. I had my first one, and if I can’t talk about it here, then where can I? So, if ya don’t like the personal stuff, you have been forewarned!

So, I get this call at 10 ‘til 8 in the morning last week. “This is (whoever) from the base hospital. We’ve been reviewing your records and see that it’s time for a mammogram. Please call radiology and set up your appointment.” Well, good friggin’ morning to you, too, sunshine. Could you be a little less chipper when you call a newly 40-year-old woman to remind her that she’s turned 40?

I wasn’t nervous because really, I didn’t expect them to find anything. I do breast exams (not as often as I should, but I do do them), and I’ve always teased Al that it’s just as much his responsibility as mine to know if something isn’t right. Besides, he knows them better than I do, anyway.

So, let me tell you how this happens. The nice tech (female, thank God) tells you everything off from the waist up, gown opens in the front, and there are wipes to clean off any deodorant or perfumes or anything. I don’t know why, either, I just did what I was told.

The machine is smaller than I thought it would be. I guess I was expecting giant metal plates like a big shop tool, like a drill press or one of those things that crush cars. But it’s small and not so scary looking. But then, the tech tells you she has to put the nipple guards on and you realize that any modesty you have has just flown out the window.

So, then it begins. Step up to the machine, one half of the gown off, the tech moving you where you need to be then unceremoniously slapping your breast up on the table that has these little lines as a guide for the tech. Now, she wasn’t being insensitive, she had to get it all up there. And I’m, well, I’m a healthy girl. No need for a Wonder Bra here; they are a wonder all their own. After the bottom part was in place, she smoothed out as much of the tissue as possible, meaning that she pre-flattens before the acrylic paddle comes down to finish the job. One hand was on my waist, pulling my shoulder back out of the way and the other hand was holding back the opposite breast. My chin was resting on the machine, the tech was behind a protective clear screen, telling me not to breathe. Not a problem, actually. Luckily, it only lasted a few seconds, then onto the next pose.

I had to ask the tech what they do if someone has implants. She said it was more painful and harder because at one point, she has to push the implants back and pull the tissue forward. Ew. So, maybe carting these boulders around wasn’t so bad after all. But I’d still consider a breast reduction. I told Al that if they fall enough that I have to move them to fasten my pants, they’re out of here!

Four pictures, two each breast, so I figured I would be out of there soon. Oh, how wrong I was. Luckily, I brought a book, just in case. I had to wait for the developing, to make sure the pictures were clear. Then wait for the radiologist to look at it, which was good because that meant I would know before I left that everything was OK. I was pretty relaxed, just reading my book.

Then the tech came back and said the radiologist wanted a couple of more pictures of my right breast. Guess I had the deer-in-headlights look because the tech quickly followed that with “This is common with first mammograms. There’s nothing to compare to, so sometimes they want to see other views.”

So, we started over again. Different poses this time, including a happy little number where she twisted the tissue (they say tissue but it’s pretty much twisting the whole thing). And more waiting.

Then the radiologist came in. Oh, this day just gets better and better! He didn’t see a tumor or anything that worried him that it could be cancer, but there was an a-symmetrical spot on the right side of the breast that he just couldn’t get a good look at, so he wanted to do an ultrasound. He said they were going to try to do it today but if they couldn’t it was ok to wait. Worse case, they might want to do a biopsy, but he would expect it to be benign. But he’ll still want me to come back in 6 months for another mammogram on that breast so he could compare and make sure there was no change. He didn’t want me to worry. He kept repeating that, but really, I wasn’t worried. I told him I wasn’t going to worry until someone told me it was time to worry. I was more upset that I hadn’t brought my knitting because even though my book is good (Booked to Death by John Dunning), I wanted something to do with my hands, not my brain.

So, more waiting, sitting in the hallway, in a gown that could wrap around me a few times, trying to keep my head down, reading my book. If I don’t see them, I could be invisible, right? Quite a while later, “You ready, ma’am?” Well crap. Tell me, why do ultrasound techs have to be good looking young men who just stepped out of their fraternity house?

Lots of small talk, while I lie with my right arm above my head and the gown covering the left half of the body. Luckily, the gel had been warmed, but it’s still just weird. I studied the poster on the wall beside me, trying not to chuckle at the idea that under other circumstances this might actually be enjoyable. Pretty soon, he draped a towel over me, and he and the chaperone took the results to the radiologist, who by the way is also a good looking young guy who just walked out of the fraternity house. And of course, he wanted another scan. But he wanted it to do it himself this time.

OK, now, I’m annoyed and ready to go home. Enough is enough! He decided that it was just breast tissue and benign. I suspected he was starting to us me as a teaching tool for the tech as he described this ridge and where it was, pointing it out on my breast. Well, at least I know where it is now.

Another clean towel draped over me, and I’m done. Everyone leaves, and I’m left to get all this goo off. I still have to come back in 6 months, but no one’s expecting it to be anything, so I shouldn’t worry. I'm not worried! Really, I've been through worse tests, and honestly, I have other health issues keeping me preoccupied. But it is nice to have this little experience over.

My breasts had been handled more in the last 2 hours than they had all week. And more than they will be for a couple of days because now I’m sore. But, everything is OK, so that’s good. I’m taking care of myself, and that’s good. It’s all good.

Snakes. Why does it have to be snakes?

I like to go to Apple site and check out the new movie trailers. It opens my mind to some movies that are coming out that I might not normally go to. But when I saw the movie Snakes on a Plane listed, I thought that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. No one would go see that.

Apparently, I don’t have a clue about the viewing public.

According to my local paper, there’s a cult following for this movie, and people can’t wait to see it. They reference the campy title and the star Samuel L. Jackson as part of the reason. Yeah, I like Jackson, too, and I would go see most things he’s in. But campy title? I think it’s terrifying! I can’t even watch the trailer, and I like scary movies. It’s definitely a heeby-jeeby movie. The article said, “Fans have designed their own T-shirts and created entire Web sites dedicated to the movie. One of the most notorious is the snakesonablog.com.”

Also, now “snakes on a plane” has become lingo for “whatever” or “stuff happens.” Huh?

The article went on and on about how funny everyone thinks it is. When did I stop having a sense of humor? The trailer looks pretty serious to me. I thought I knew campy. Batman TV series = campy. John Waters films = campy. Venomous snakes loose on a plane, that just doesn’t seem campy.

So, someone go see it and tell me what it’s like. I would, but the seats in the theater don’t sit high enough, considering that I would be completely crouched in them. There’s no way I’d put my feet down on the floor during that movie.

On a Roll

I eeked out another 25. Will this ever end?!?

126. I consider myself a Christian, but I have a lot of questions.
127. I completely understand questioning a book written by a group of men who were trying to reflect their world view. But still, I’ve grown up with faith so it seems to come pretty easy.
128. Maybe I’m taking faith for granted?
127. We have found a wonderful church here that welcomes all questions. You know the Methodist Church’s slogan, “Open hearts. Open minds. Open doors.”? Well, our church believes that and puts it into practice.
128. This church considers itself “theologically progressive” which concerned me at first because I thought Al’s conservative side might not agree. But that man is just full of surprises. Makes being married fun and interesting.
129. It’s not so much a liberal or conservative theology, just a little more open-minded than some.
130. I usually avoid the discussion of religion because: a) there always seems to be someone who can quote something from the Bible to prove his or her point and I never have a good response, b) It pisses me off when people throw quotes at me because they don’t pay attention where the quote comes from or what the lesson/story is, and c) I have my doubts and questions that I’m working through, thank you, and I don’t want to be preached to and told what I’m supposed to think or believe.
131. I love Southern gospel music. The twangier the better. There’s nothing better than a country quartette singing “I’ll Fly Away.”
132. When my Dad died, my stepmother asked if I wanted any song in particular at the service. I told her I always thought of Dad when I heard “I’ll Fly Away” because I knew he like it. She said she didn’t remember that, but if I wanted it, they’d try to do it.
133. I felt terrible because I thought maybe I was projecting because I love that song. I told my grandmother (his mother) the song I had requested, and she said, “Oh he loved that song! He used to just siiiinnngg.” I felt very relieved.
134. My uncle sings bass in a gospel group. They sang it at the funeral and it was perfect. There’s not doubt in my mind that Dad like that.
135. Dad grew up in a tiny town in Arkansas called Yellville. Most of his family are still there.
136. Yellville is famous for Turkey Trot, a fall festival where they just happen to toss live wild turkeys out of a small plane. Wild turkeys fly, or at least they glide for long distances. You can have the turkey if you catch it, but that’s not gonna happen.
137. PETA shows up every year.
138. Does that remind you of WKRP in Cincinnati? It’s probably not a coincidence that the guy who played Herb Tarlek was from Arkansas.
139. When I was 18, I met Bill Clinton at a Democrat rally while he was running for governor of Arkansas. He has the ability to make you feel like you are the only person he wants to talk to. He didn’t look over my shoulder or to the side to see if there was someone else he should be talking to.
140. There was a scene in a movie years and years ago that always sticks in my mind. Kids were at a school dance (the all-boy’s school came to the all-girl’s school), and the guy didn’t want to be dancing with the girl he was dancing with, so behind her back, he was offering cash to his buddy to come cut in. She knew what was happening, of course. I thought that was the saddest scene and hoped I would never be that girl. But late at night when the demons come out, I suspect I am.
141. Wellbutrin has helped silence some of those demons. I’m not recommending everyone to get on a happy pill, but I would recommend that if your emotions feel a little out of control and you have trouble functioning, go see a doctor and get help.
142. I was on Lexapro for a year, but it made me numb. I didn’t cry the whole year I was on it. With the Wellbutrin I still have my emotions but they don’t overwhelm me and don’t get out of control. I had no idea how bad off I was. Before, I would just lay on the couch and stare at the tv, get up and take a shower and get cleaned up right before Al got home so that he wouldn’t know I had laid around all day, then try to find a way to get out of making dinner.
143. Now if I have a day that I’m just exhausted and want to go back to bed and take a nap, I know it’s the fatigue with the MS.
144. I’ve spent a lot of my life daydreaming. I’m more steeped in reality now, or maybe I just hide my daydreaming better.
145. We had a party in our new basement pub and everyone who works with Al came, plus our friends that he doesn’t work with. I stopped counting at 35 people. I quickly lost control of this evening.
146. Up until this point, I prided myself on my entertaining abilities. We’ve had bigger parties and I’ve cooked for more, but there were people every where! I couldn’t flit around fast enough to make sure everyone was feeling welcome, and I constantly worried about running out of food.
147. We did run out of soda. Who knew so many people would drink soda?
148. Everything was pretty much gone by the end of the evening. The pony keg of Fat Tire was dry and the meatball subs (4 lbs of meatballs and 3 bottles of pasta sauce) were devoured. All in all, I’d say it was a success.
149. A couple of years ago, we entertained a lot. I was always hosting wives’ socials, showers, and various parties. I’m done with entertaining. Come over for dinner, but it’s going to be reeeaaaallll casual.
150. I told Al that if he really wanted to be a squadron commander, I’d support him and do my best in my role as “squadron commander’s wife.” But if he doesn’t want to do that, all the better. I'm ready to downsize and get rid of all that stuff I use for "entertaining."

The Cornbread Story

Yesterday was Al’s birthday, so I made him one of his favorite dinners—red beans and rice. That’s a good Friday meal, just in case there are any side effects from the beans. I’m the one who likes to go out for my birthday and be sung to so I can be the center of attention. Al prefers a dinner at home with no one forcing him into the spotlight.



It had been a while since I had made red beans and rice, so I was looking forward to the meal almost as much as Al. Especially, the cornbread I make to go with it. I love cornbread. And it reminds me of one of my favorite story to tell on Al.

When we were “seriously” dating and had moved in together, I would make cornbread from a packet of buttermilk cornbread mix in a square baking pan. Al said it was OK, but it wasn’t as good as his Granny’s. His Granny made the best cornbread ever. Oh, his Granny’s cornbread was so much better. So, when it was time to meet Granny, I knew what I was going to ask her first.

Let me pause here to tell you about Granny. In her 70s, when I met her, she was about 5’ 4” and a little hunched over. Her hair was snow white and her skin had the dark, leathery look that came with her American Indian heritage. She dipped Dental Snuff (don’t ask—it’s just nasty) and never put her teeth in, but could still eat just about anything. Actually, she did put her teeth in once, at our wedding, and she scared the grandkids because they had never seen her with teeth before. As far as I know, she never put them in again. She always had an amazing garden and the best part of eating at her place was the way she’d keep bringing out fresh veggies from the refrigerator, “You want some tomatoes? How about onions, pepper, cucumbers . . .” She made gorgeous quilts out of whatever material she had. She cussed like a sailor. And she intimidated the hell out of me.

So, we’re visiting his family, and I say, “Granny, Al says you make the best cornbread. You’ll have to show me how you make it.”

“It’s real easy,” she said, opening the refrigerator and bringing out a packet, “I just use this buttermilk cornbread mix.” It was the exact thing I was using! Al had the common sense not to reply.

However, she did make it differently because she made hers in an iron skilled. THE iron skillet, the one used only for cornbread. She heated up the skillet with some fat in it, usually bacon fat kept in a tin on the stove top. Once it was hot, she sprinkled some cornmeal on the bottom, then poured in the cornbread mixture, and baked it. It did taste better. It was the best cornbread I had ever had. And that’s the way I make cornbread today. Oh, I don’t use bacon fat, but I do put a chunk of unsalted butter in there while the pan is heating up. And I sprinkle some of the mix in the bottom of the skillet because it gives a nice crust to the bread and helps it to come out easier. I can’t find that particular mix anymore, so I use Martha White’s self-rising cornbread mix, but the key is that iron skillet.

All I need now is a big glass of milk and some butter to spread on that heaping slice of hot cornbread.

A Name By Any Other Name

Saz asked how Daily got her name, so I thought I’d tell you. It’s an unusual name, I know, but that’s what happens when you get a retired show dog.

Daily’s full name was Champion Menlo Cobblebrook Daily News, or Daily for short. I always said that she was perfectly named because every day we wondered why we waited so long to get a dog. Obviously, we were waiting for this dog.

I have this fear of responsibility. I’m serious, it’s a real problem. Al surprised me with a bassett hound puppy when we were first married, but it was just too hard being on the third floor apartment for the poor thing to go outside and do his business. So, we gave him to Al's parents, and I felt like a failure as a doggie mom. It was years before I felt like I was ready to try again.


We spent those years watching dog shows, reading about dogs, dreaming about dogs, and playing with other people’s dogs. Then everything just fell into place. We decided that a Petite Bassett Griffon Vendeen seemed like a great dog and started looking around for one. And wouldn’t you know it, there was a breeder just 20 minutes down the road from Al’s hometown. Fate! So, we called and asked if we could come by and see the dogs, since we had never seen one in person, or in dogness, or live, or whatever, we wanted to see a real PBGV.

Cynthia had several adults and no puppies, which was fine because we didn’t want a puppy. We stood in the backyard while the dogs ran up to greet us, happy to be out of the kennel. And the cutest one (Daily, of course) ran up to say hello, then sat near us while everyone else ran around like crazy. Then she crawled on her belly over to us and we pet her a little more, then she had had enough, so she went up and sat by her kennel, ready to go back in. So calm, so independent, and so darn cute.

Cynthia said that Daily was a retired champion and they were looking for a home where she could just be a pet. Her career was cut short because she got into a fight with her kennel mates and they chewed her ear up. The vet, for some reason, took off her entire ear flap. So, Daily’s right ear looked like a human ear lobe. But with all that hair on and around her face, you couldn’t tell. She had one litter of puppies, but there was a recessive gene and only one puppy survived. Cynthia said it was just too hard on Daily and her to try to have puppies again.

When we decided Daily was the one, we went through an interview with Cynthia. It was double sided, I wanted to know she was a responsible breeder and she wanted to know if I was going to be a responsible dog owner. I already knew she was a good breeder because she had repossessed a puppy (Daily’s puppy, actually) that she didn’t think was being treated right, plus we joked and laughed about how she spent more money on and building the kennel than her house. We paid to have Daily fixed and update her shots, and that’s it—she was ours.

We got all the doggie stuff together and went to pick her up. Daily was roaming around the house, and Cynthia was trying not to cry. She kept asking Daily, “Where’s your ear?” and we were taken aback. That seemed a little callous for this woman, but then we realized she meant pig’s ear. She had given Daily a pig’s ear. Al thought that was pretty funny, so he spent a lot of time after that asking Daily, “Where’s your ear?” She would just cock her head and look at him like he was an idiot.

We got home (a 10-hour drive), Daily walked around her new home, and huffed at her reflection in the sliding glass door. She quickly found her new bed and her food and water bowls. There was a lot of adjusting ahead, but that’s a story for another day.

Here We Go Again

And yet, another 25. I'm not sure how much longer this can go on! So, for now, here's another 25.

101. I love mission style furniture but think it can be a little stark and uncomfortable. So, I pair it up with something comfy like a poofy chair.
102. I watch a lot of the decorating shows, but I’m not very good at that kind of thing.
103. It’s the same with picking out clothes. If it’s not already an outfit, I can’t put it together. I miss the ease of Garanimals.
104. In February 2006, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.
105. I always do well on my neurological exams, and I have comparatively subtle symptoms, but the spinal tap came back positive on the 2 tests they run for MS, everything else they tested for was negative.
106. I’ve had many people compliment me on how “strong” I am, but that’s because that’s the face I put out there. Actually, I’m very tired of being strong. I’m not all that strong anyway, it’s just something I have to do.
107. I give myself a shot every week, and it’s never that easy. My husband offers to give me the shot but that scares me more! I need to be the one in control of this.
108. The learning curve of this disease is way too long. I’m constantly questioning any little pain I have, and I’m hoping that fear goes away pretty damn soon.
109. I hate having my blood drawn because I have these tiny veins that roll. I keep telling people—I’m delicate!
110. The scariest symptom I have is some cognitive problems. There are days I can’t type words correctly and I can’t remember a word I’m desperately searching for. I just lose words, and my thinking process slows down. Luckily, it’s not all that often. I usually just write it off as getting older.
111. Being diagnosed is another event that makes me relieved I didn’t have children.
112. I can count on one hand the number of times I thought I wanted children; I’ve never been that keen on it.
113. I like kids. I do OK with kids, but the idea of 24-hour responsibility for the rest of my life terrifies me.
114. You wouldn’t believe the things women with children will say to me: But you’d be such a great Mom; Aren’t you afraid of being alone in your old age; Is it a medical problem that you can’t have children; Well, you have all that free time because you don’t have kids; What do you do all day since you don’t have kids and don’t work; You’re right not have kids because you don’t have enough patience (this last one while her little darlin’ was screaming in the back seat and I was about to jump out of the car).
115. My parents split up when I was in 3rd grade, and I never felt close to my dad until I was adult, but not that close even then.
116. I told my husband before we got married that I wasn’t putting a child through what I went through with my dad, so unless he could promise me that he would be everything to our children, to the point that I was jealous of how close they were, I wasn’t having children with him.
117. In May 1997, my husband was diagnosed with Testicular Cancer. It was a stage IIIB, which a is a pretty scary stage.
118. It was a rough 4 months of chemo and surgeries and recovery, but he’s healthy and we’re both stronger. Our relationship got even stronger during this time.
119. My husband says he has no privacy any more because I’ll talk about almost anything, even concerning him. But I think it’s encouraging to know someone survived cancer or lives happily with a chronic disease.
120. I have the coolest grandmother ever—Nana Creta. She’s in her late 80s and still drives herself to the beauty shop and lives on her own, comfortably. I really hope I inherited her genes.
121. For Christmas last year, my Nana gave me a scrapbook of family pictures, and she labeled them! So, I have pictures of my dad and the family when they were kids.
122. I tend to “mother” my mother. I was getting a little out of control, though, so I decided I should let her be and find a balance.
123. I love Thanksgiving because I love to cook Thanksgiving dinner as I watch the Macy’s parade.
124. I get very cranky around the end of July until well into September because I don’t like excessively hot summers. For the last 7 years, I’ve lived places that have over 100-degree summers.
125. October is my favorite month. It’s the beginning of the holidays for me since I like Halloween so much. We have a pumpkin-carving party at our house and put all the pumpkins out of the front porch to take pictures. What a blast!

Tagged!

I was tagged from Lisa this weekend, so without further delay . . .

Five items in my freezer
1. cranberries from last Christmas. I throw them in muffin batter.
2. puff Pastry
3. deer meat from our friend J’s last hunting trip
4. vanilla bean ice cream
5. frozen mixed veggies

Five Items in My Closet:
1. a sack of clothes I keep meaning to take to Good Will
2. more purses than one woman should have
3. my Victoria’s Secret robe that Al got me on, I think, our first anniversary, so it’s 17 years old
4. some beanie babies that my collector friend gave me years ago, worth practically nil now
5. one of those “couples only” games that I borrowed from a friend but never returned and never played. I really should do something about that.

Five items in the car
1. chargers for my iPod and my cell phone
2. the Mannheim Steamroller Halloween CD
3. several maps of the area and the state
4. the “Car Log” where we write down anything and everything we do to the car
5. sun block

Five items in my purse (I don't have a backpack anymore)
1. my notebook to write down what I’m supposed to remember but never do
2. my husband’s work phone number and my cell phone number because I never remember either of them
3. a checkbook with an index card stuck in the register because I’ve run out of lines in the register and haven’t bothered to get another one yet because they don’t have my bank anywhere in Nebraska
4. my Bodleian Library pen that I bought in Oxford 3 years ago—the longest I have ever held onto a pen without losing it
5. Burt’s Bees lib balm—can’t live without that stuff

I tag, well, I tag anyone who needs something to blog!

The Pub

Hello again! I'm back, finally. It's been a very busy week because we are throwing a party tonight to christen our new pub in the basement. Al's been wanting to do this for a long time, so while we're in a house with a basement, we decided to go for it. It's not exactly a pub because we wanted it to be usable to whoever buys the house next, and we realize that not everyone would want a pub in their home. But I think we did a pretty good job. Or, actually, the guy who built it all for us did a good job. So, here are some pics!



The door on the left is my new storage closet!




Al had his own craft project. These are around the pub--they are the sides of beer 6-packs glued to some kind of wood. I have no idea what it was, but it turned out much nicer that I thought it would when he described his idea to me.


Our carpenter was so awesome. He decided that since he angled the closet, that the wall would just be wasted space, so he built this niche into it. It's the perfect place for all those boxes the scotch came in that Al doesn't want to get rid of.

Down, Down, Down

Our Internet is down for a couple of days. Don't really know why, but the cable dude can't come over until Friday (!) in the afternoon, so I won't be posting for a couple of days. Even though I don't mind the excuse to go to Panera or Starbucks or some place with wireless, I'm not sure when I'll make it (besides now of course because I'm at Panera).

Just wanted to let you know. I'm not falling of the face of the earth, just out of the Internet for a couple of days.

Talk to ya soon!