tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-231469712009-07-18T20:38:07.068-04:00Harmonia's NecklaceAn unlucky possession; something that brings evil to all who possess it. Harmonia was the daughter of Mars and Venus and she received the fatal necklace on her marriage to King Cadmus. Vulcan, to avenge the infidelity of her mother, also gave the bride a present of a robe dyed in all kinds of crimes, which infused wickedness and impiety into all her offspring. Both Harmonia and Cadmus, having suffered many misfortunes, changed into serpeants. ~ From Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase & Fablek8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.comBlogger542125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-62155532679832014532009-07-18T12:42:00.008-04:002009-07-18T13:26:29.607-04:00A Short Tale From YesterdayI spent yesterday afternoon with my niece and nephew, and later had dinner with the family. It was a gorgeous day - somewhat overcast, nice breeze, about 70 F. We were at my parents, who live about 1/4 mile from a soft serve ice cream place. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SmH9JkMIH6I/AAAAAAAABGM/1vU66hyCbb0/s1600-h/100_8145.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SmH9JkMIH6I/AAAAAAAABGM/1vU66hyCbb0/s320/100_8145.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359843372322791330" border="0" /></a><br />So, I suggested that we put Chewie on a leash, walk to Dairy Freeze, and have a treat. My mother thought we were being a little "adventurous" since there isn't a sidewalk (oh, the horror and danger of walking where there are no sidewalks!!!), but we went anyway and she even came along.<br /><br />As you can see, a large part of the walk can be taken on a cart path at the golf course along the way. This isn't exactly dangerous. Anyway, we had our ice cream and the guy working there even gave Chewie a little treat - a small cup of ice cream with a dog biscuit on top. He enjoyed his treat.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SmH-LUePL3I/AAAAAAAABGc/2-ywbSv11p0/s1600-h/100_8120.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SmH-LUePL3I/AAAAAAAABGc/2-ywbSv11p0/s320/100_8120.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359844501975150450" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SmH-K0GJFlI/AAAAAAAABGU/1LuhJ11if3I/s1600-h/100_8128.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SmH-K0GJFlI/AAAAAAAABGU/1LuhJ11if3I/s320/100_8128.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359844493284152914" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Behind the Dairy Freeze is a small cemetery. I decided that I'd like to take a picture of a statue in it, so my niece came along with me while my mom, my nephew, and Chewie waited outside the gate. Nephew gets a little freaked out by cemeteries and my mother thought it would be improper to take Chewie. It isn't like I was planning to go off the pathways and let him "mark" someone's grave, but she didn't think it would be "right" so he stayed outside the grounds with them. (fwiw, this cemetery is so small that we could easily see that there was no one there to be offended - except, perhaps, for the dead folks). <br /><br />Anyway, while we were there, we also took a quick look at a small mausoleum.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SmH-zd2bDsI/AAAAAAAABGk/sqygoSZ2FiM/s1600-h/100_8135.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SmH-zd2bDsI/AAAAAAAABGk/sqygoSZ2FiM/s320/100_8135.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359845191687278274" border="0" /></a> My niece liked it and decided that she wanted one. I told her to tell her mother and thought that was the end of the conversation. It wasn't, but we'll get to that in a bit.<br /><br />As I mentioned, there is a golf course along the way. Next to the cemetery is a shed that belongs to the golf course. As we passed it, my nephew (age 9) asked, "Is that where they take out the heart and lungs and brain before they bury people?" We all looked at him with surprise. Apparently, he's getting his information from movies with aliens in them. He wasn't very clear, but he got this idea from either <span style="font-style: italic;">Independence Day</span> or <span style="font-style: italic;">Men in Black</span>. Note to self: kids this age probably won't understand everything that's going on in pg-13 films, especially in terms of what's real and what's not when it comes to the difference between the way dead alien bodies and dead human bodies are treated. We tried to set him straight, but I'm not sure how much of the truth actually sunk in.<br /><br />Cemetery and dead body talk ended, we arrived back at the house and the kids played for most of the afternoon. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SmICJAlrq9I/AAAAAAAABGs/KgYsd7ottP4/s1600-h/100_8178.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SmICJAlrq9I/AAAAAAAABGs/KgYsd7ottP4/s320/100_8178.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359848860324441042" border="0" /></a><br />I shucked corn, my mom picked sugar snap peas from the garden, and the kids played with bubble stuff. A fairly calm afternoon. <br /><br />Dinner was excellent. However, while we were eating, my niece said, "Mom, I have something to tell you." I suddenly thought, "Uh oh!" She told her mother that when she dies, she wants a mausoleum. Also, could her mom please pay for it since niece doesn't have the money for that sort of thing (she's 12). <br /><br />I'm pretty sure my sister blames me for this. There was definitely a glare directed at me. I could barely keep myself from laughing. I couldn't bring myself to tell her about the conversation we had with her son about removing organs from dead bodies. Perhaps I should have, though. Just another normal dinner conversation with the family.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-6215553267983201453?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-23482778770596767752009-07-02T11:52:00.003-04:002009-07-02T12:08:23.884-04:00Progress - Fourth of July Food EditionSo far today I have:<br /><ul><li>Completed the grocery shopping. At 9:30 am the supermarket was already packed.</li><li>Went to the butcher shop. Meats have been purchased, as well as several pickled eggs for my father.<br /></li><li>Soaked dry beans overnight.<br /></li><li>Boiled the soaked beans this morning.</li><li>Cooking beans with other ingredients in the crock pot for the next 9 hours. <br /></li><li>Fried bacon bits for the broccoli-bacon salad. <br /></li></ul>What I still need to do today:<br /><ul><li>Make salsa.</li><li>Cut pork into kabob-size pieces.<br /></li><li>Make marinade for pork (later tonight) and combine with pork.</li><li>Clean!!!!!</li><li>Furminate the cats.</li><li>Figure out what I'm going to put all of this food in/on</li></ul>Tomorrow I need to:<br /><ul><li>Cut peppers and onions for the skewers.</li><li>Wash cherry tomatoes for the skewers<br /></li><li>Prepare the skewers.</li><li>Squeeze 2 cups of lemon juice out of lemons for homemade lemonade.</li><li>Prepare broccoli-bacon salad</li><li>Get ice for the coolers</li><li>Place beer and soda in freshly iced coolers.</li><li>Table-top prep.</li></ul>And probably a bunch of other stuff that I'll remember at the last minute.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-2348277877059676775?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-48832850401989878722009-06-29T12:01:00.003-04:002009-06-29T12:19:11.669-04:00How Do I Get Myself Into These Things???I'm hosting 4th of July-related festivities this Friday (that's when the fireworks at the lake will occur). We are also celebrating my dad's birthday that evening. Naturally, I'm in charge of a lot of food prep. I don't mind that so much, but I wish I had someone to clean for me. That part is a bit less enjoyable. While eating lunch just a moment ago, I plotted out my schedule for all of this work. <br /><br />I'll be making/preparing the following items: <br /><ul><li>This <a href="http://www.eatingwell.com/recipes/fresh_tomato_salsa.html">salsa</a>. My dad requested chips and salsa. I was going to buy salsa, but the nasty (and premature) heat last week caused my cilantro to bolt, so I need to use it anyway.<br /></li><li>This <a href="http://www.eatingwell.com/recipes/broccoli_bacon_salad.html">broccoli-bacon salad</a>.<br /></li><li>Pork kabobs marinated in a sauce that includes curry, chili sauce, honey, and other goodies. This means I will be chopping up pork, onions, and peppers. Thankfully the cherry tomatoes require less work.<br /></li><li>Hamburgers for the 2 or 3 people who are unwilling to try the aforementioned kabobs because they are unadventurous picky eaters. Two of these are kids under 9, so I forgive them. The adult has no excuse. I am picky, but I'll at least try things.<br /></li><li>Baked beans. Fairly easy, but I need to keep track of the schedule since I start with dry beans and slow cook them in the crock pot. <br /></li><li>Beverages for all ages. <br /></li></ul>All in all, it isn't too bad - my mom's making a Texas Sheet Cake for dessert and I'm making sure there's ice cream available. She's preparing some fruit, too. But of course, I have a lot of cleaning to do, as well as prep work and set up. I'm getting ready to make a grocery run today for all things that I can get ahead of schedule. I feel so domestic.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-4883285040198987872?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-27580659428090236002009-06-22T18:50:00.003-04:002009-06-22T18:57:21.736-04:00I'm ConfusedAfter spending a day in the sun with no sunscreen on, a person I know got sunburned. I thought this person looked fairly red, actually, especially on the face. Anyway...this person did not treat the burn in any way - said it didn't hurt. This person then chose to spend the next day (from about 1pm to 4pm or later) outside in the blazing hot sun with <span style="font-weight: bold;">NO</span> sunscreen on.<br /><br />Why, why, why would anyone do this? Am I the only one who thinks this is incredibly stupid? When I expressed a little concern, my concern was scoffed at. It seems like this is just asking for major skin damage.<br /><br />I just don't understand. Maybe I'm over-protective when it comes to these things, but this just seems crazy to me.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-2758065942809023600?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-5193088962175145492009-06-21T19:39:00.000-04:002009-06-21T20:05:23.318-04:00Just Got Backfrom Father's Day festivities. It was fairly low key, really. My dad got a new grill, so we grilled.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sj7HLwLD-7I/AAAAAAAABFg/38gaebCgTkU/s1600-h/100_7279.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sj7HLwLD-7I/AAAAAAAABFg/38gaebCgTkU/s400/100_7279.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349932412086516658" border="0" /></a><br />As such, I decided that it was ok to go with a cliché of a present and went with grill tools. Normally, I'd try to be a little more inventive, but, well, I wasn't.<br /><br />I returned to this scene:<br /><br /><object height="364" width="445"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IDlqtBPL7sE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IDlqtBPL7sE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="364" width="445"></embed></object><br /><br />That's the packing paper my dad's present came with when it was shipped. The kitties seem to enjoy it. This was the first I had seen Sophie playing in it. Last night (yes, I've left it on my floor that long) Plum was all over it.<br /><br /><object height="364" width="445"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QaKdqBK3xJ0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QaKdqBK3xJ0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="364" width="445"></embed></object><br /><br />I think that maybe I just need to buy a big roll of this stuff.<br /><br />I'm very excited about my container garden. I already have a few baby tomatoes!!! This is a pair of Amish Paste Tomatoes:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sj7JVT-h8QI/AAAAAAAABGA/1DtTL-Zfrms/s1600-h/100_7100.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sj7JVT-h8QI/AAAAAAAABGA/1DtTL-Zfrms/s400/100_7100.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349934775339708674" border="0" /></a><br />This is my first Old German Tomato. I love the creases in it!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sj7JVGFPgwI/AAAAAAAABF4/qjJG6w0x2z4/s1600-h/100_7093.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sj7JVGFPgwI/AAAAAAAABF4/qjJG6w0x2z4/s400/100_7093.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349934771609764610" border="0" /></a><br />And this is the start of a Cherokee Purple tomato. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sj7JUowdZkI/AAAAAAAABFo/mR-8JKfEp8o/s1600-h/100_7008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sj7JUowdZkI/AAAAAAAABFo/mR-8JKfEp8o/s400/100_7008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349934763737966146" border="0" /></a><br />I can't wait for them to ripen! I haven't seen any of my brandywines yet, but I think they take longer to mature. The plant does have blooms on it, though.<br /><br />ok - time to get to work since I haven't done anything academic today.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-519308896217514549?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-34399999971231417402009-06-07T19:07:00.005-04:002009-06-07T19:29:10.838-04:00Fireworks, Powerwashers, And HelipadsI've seen fireworks for the past couple of nights. I wonder if there will be more tonight. I don't know if they are related to high school graduations/graduation parties this weekend, or if people are just setting them off for fun. There are at least two fireworks outlets/stores within 2 miles of where I live.<br /><br />We had a smattering of rain earlier. Afterwards, my neighbor power-washed his driveway. He then brushed off the excess water. Then he power-washed the sidewalk/path around the side of his garage. Then he used the leaf blower on the walks and drive. I've never seen someone so obsessive about their landscaping and home exterior. He is constantly using his lawnmower, leaf blower, edger, or powerwasher - or, he's mulching, raking, sweeping, etc. It really is at the level of obsessiveness.<br /><br />This past winter, I was shocked to encounter this scene outside of my window:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SixKfFImocI/AAAAAAAABE4/sDz2Nk1OrUE/s1600-h/100_4739.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SixKfFImocI/AAAAAAAABE4/sDz2Nk1OrUE/s400/100_4739.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344728755596599746" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SixLHx2Ds7I/AAAAAAAABFI/xtQmC9UW3gM/s1600-h/100_4740.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SixLHx2Ds7I/AAAAAAAABFI/xtQmC9UW3gM/s400/100_4740.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344729454793175986" border="0" /></a><br />So, obviously my first instinct was to grab my camera and run outside to take pics. Anyway, as it turns out the guy two doors down now has a helicopter and a license to fly it. He has a helipad at his primary residence and is trying to think of a way to have one here. Naturally, my father suggested ways he could do this - primarily, building one, placing it on pontoons, and having it anchored/attached to their dock or yard or something like that. Apparently, this was already under consideration. So, we'll see if there ends up being a helipad in the neighborhood by the end of this summer.<br /><br />Gratuitous Cat Photos:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SixNBAc5B0I/AAAAAAAABFY/3zAKboT3Azc/s1600-h/100_6327.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SixNBAc5B0I/AAAAAAAABFY/3zAKboT3Azc/s400/100_6327.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344731537478321986" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SixNA6v98OI/AAAAAAAABFQ/F1fTyu04fLU/s1600-h/100_6370.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SixNA6v98OI/AAAAAAAABFQ/F1fTyu04fLU/s400/100_6370.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344731535947722978" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-3439999997123141740?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-29762386808359543462009-06-04T15:08:00.002-04:002009-06-04T15:13:04.224-04:00mmmmmmm...a Sophiesicle!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SigcPic1SmI/AAAAAAAABEo/S5jojUom6uY/s1600-h/100_6465.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SigcPic1SmI/AAAAAAAABEo/S5jojUom6uY/s400/100_6465.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343552011146447458" border="0" /></a><br />And, I finally got a picture of Sophie doing something strange. Just so y'all know that Plum isn't the only one.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SigcP81SUiI/AAAAAAAABEw/55-c4RJ6uRM/s1600-h/100_6439.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SigcP81SUiI/AAAAAAAABEw/55-c4RJ6uRM/s400/100_6439.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343552018228335138" border="0" /></a>This might just need a caption.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-2976238680835954346?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-89945486856210775332009-05-25T21:52:00.001-04:002009-05-25T21:57:54.859-04:002 + 5 = 7<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ShtMcqpFK2I/AAAAAAAABEg/L4c0-zSZ1FU/s1600-h/100_6229.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ShtMcqpFK2I/AAAAAAAABEg/L4c0-zSZ1FU/s400/100_6229.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339945838544497506" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ShtMcHd0Z_I/AAAAAAAABEY/U1G7adXJXvQ/s1600-h/100_6222a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 308px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ShtMcHd0Z_I/AAAAAAAABEY/U1G7adXJXvQ/s400/100_6222a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339945829102020594" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ShtMbzM_WxI/AAAAAAAABEQ/46mteQYwp-o/s1600-h/100_6226.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ShtMbzM_WxI/AAAAAAAABEQ/46mteQYwp-o/s400/100_6226.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339945823662725906" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ShtMbmDNPxI/AAAAAAAABEI/DUA6sShOjJE/s1600-h/100_6211.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ShtMbmDNPxI/AAAAAAAABEI/DUA6sShOjJE/s400/100_6211.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339945820132032274" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ShtMbYZAiEI/AAAAAAAABEA/l7Zory8Te_0/s1600-h/100_6210.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ShtMbYZAiEI/AAAAAAAABEA/l7Zory8Te_0/s400/100_6210.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339945816465377346" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-8994548685621077533?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-25835768146130425442009-05-18T21:24:00.004-04:002009-05-18T22:13:33.900-04:00About #1So, I've been asked in a couple places what my "secret" is for Lesson #1 from my <a href="http://harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com/2009/05/things-i-learned-this-week.html">last post</a>. In it, I wrote: <blockquote>"You know those guys who are arrogant, condescending, hyper-argumentative, and a little bit sexist to boot? Of course you do - academia has its share. This is the same type of male student who challenges female instructors' authority. Anyway, apparently I really am good at dealing with them. Although I have to admit that I feel a bit icky when I see them giving me respect while treating others like #%#$(%(#@. I really wish I didn't have to be good at dealing with these jerks."</blockquote>The thing is, I'm still trying to figure. That is, I'm still trying to figure out exactly what I'm doing that works. I suspect it's a different combination of factors that have worked with each one.<br /><br />Here's what I know.<br /><br />I'm pretty good at being calm and firm, not letting them see that they get to me, not giving them a weakness to prey upon. They're like dogs who sense fear on a person. They really are. The second they sense a weakness, they will take advantage of it. For example, I've had a male student try to invade my personal space and try to literally back me into a corner. Thing is, I didn't back up. I stood my ground and looked him straight in the eye. I'm 5' 5 1/2", which is about average and he was definitely taller, but height doesn't really intimidate me. I guess that comes from being the shortest in my family by 3 inches. My brother is a foot taller than I am. The guy tried it on one other occasion and then gave up. However, my actions in that instance could be construed as aggressive, I suppose.<br /><br />Anyway, I've had a couple out there students in the past, at least one of whom had some untreated psych issues. I guess my mom's (the former social worker) advice about dealing with abusive personalities stuck with me. A lot of that involves remaining calm (or at least have the appearance of calm), keeping the voice steady and firm. Raising volume or pitch can work against you. [It's probably telling that my mother didn't raise her voice when she corrected us when we were kids. Instead, she spoke more quietly, forcing us to lean in and pay attention.] Keeping aware of posture can help, too.<br /><br />I know that my language tends to be more formal and more polite (but not obsequious) in these situations. Follow through is important, too. If I say that "x" will be a consequence for "y," I absolutely have to stick with it. Even if inside I want to be nice, it must be done.<br /><br />The reason this came up in the last post, was because I just went through this in an online situation. Apparently, I'm decent in dealing with these guys online, through writing, too. Somehow, towards the end of a thread (about Shakespeare, no less), I was the only one he was treating with any respect. What happened? I didn't react to his outbursts and hyperbole. I didn't respond to his comments using the abusive tone he inflicted on others. I was calm and almost coldly logical with him and actually was able to get him to address the point of the original post, which he hadn't done in the beginning as he was too busy slamming everyone else's comments.<br /><br />I did feel icky after this. He actually started addressing serious, on-topic comments to me while dismissing other people's valid points - even when I reiterated and supported those people's points. So yeah, he treated me like a human being, but he was still being a jerk to everyone else. Not a total win, but it made me think about this issue and a few "special" students I've encountered in the past.<br /><br />As a side note, I'm also pretty good at breaking down their arguments logically, which doesn't hurt. As far as those academic guys like this are concerned, it almost disgusts me how many of them treat me like "one of them" because one of my reading areas was critical theory. Bleh! This happened with a number of my fellow grad students who also happen to be male. These are the same guys who are impressed by the fact that I've read Kant and a few other Dead Germans in German, never mind that I have a degree in the language. Even so, most professional translators have surely done a better job with these texts than I have.<br /><br />Other than that, I'm not sure what the answer is. Maybe I'm oblivious to some things that are going on. Maybe I just don't care enough to let it bother me. Well, that's not true. It's probably more accurate to say that I have little-to-no problem confronting the jerks because I refuse to play their deranged reindeer games. I can be a little hard-headed about things like that. If nothing else, I am stubborn.<br /><br />I was just thinking that all of these lessons about being calm, firm, and in control were also part of learning to work with the horses we had when I was growing up. Maybe working with large, powerful animals helped me learn how to physically and vocally present myself in these situations. Hmmmmmm.....something to think about.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-2583576814613042544?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-13314474875669815242009-05-16T21:14:00.007-04:002009-05-17T17:53:49.143-04:00Things I Learned This Week1) You know those guys who are arrogant, condescending, hyper-argumentative, and a little bit sexist to boot? Of course you do - academia has its share. This is the same type of male student who challenges female instructors' authority. Anyway, apparently I really am good at dealing with them. Although I have to admit that I feel a bit icky when I see them giving me respect while treating others like #%#$(%(#@. I really wish I didn't have to be good at dealing with these jerks.<br /><br />2) The local butcher carries hamburger patties that include ground bacon and chunks of cheddar cheese. I might have to sample one of these.<br /><br />3) The pumice stone I use on my feet can also be used to remove RustOleum's Satin Strawflower spray paint from my skin (with the help of a little soap and water, of course).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sg9oHqq0LpI/AAAAAAAABDw/KLXGmRNlcMw/s1600-h/100_6052.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sg9oHqq0LpI/AAAAAAAABDw/KLXGmRNlcMw/s400/100_6052.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336598564379569810" border="0" /></a><br />4) I do not care if there is spray paint on the asphalt.<br /><br />5) I shouldn't be allowed to go to the nursery for any reason. I went and I bought another tomato plant. I'm up to 4 now. That's 4 tomato plants, 1 me. Each one is a different variety. The new one is an Amish Paste tomato.<br /><br />6) I have <a href="http://taggers-finger.urbanup.com/3059841">"tagger's finger."</a><br /><br />7) The fact that my mom refers to Plum as "the juvenile delinquent" is not without cause.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sg9paI_XaZI/AAAAAAAABD4/lumzeSMmylw/s1600-h/100_6054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sg9paI_XaZI/AAAAAAAABD4/lumzeSMmylw/s400/100_6054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336599981268101522" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-1331447487566981524?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-44125500965286369122009-05-11T12:39:00.002-04:002009-05-11T12:46:54.720-04:00What I Did For Mother's DayI baked, of course!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SghVLiCr69I/AAAAAAAABDo/BTMDYacH3CY/s1600-h/100_6034b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SghVLiCr69I/AAAAAAAABDo/BTMDYacH3CY/s400/100_6034b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334607415225347026" border="0" /></a>Individual strawberry shortcakes are one of my favorite desserts to make. As you can see, I'm a fan of the biscuit variety (although the spongecake type is ok, too). What's really nice, is that it's easy to cut the biscuits smaller and make cute desserts for those who want smaller portions. I made fairly large biscuits this time and cut them out with a knife, but I've used all sorts and sizes of biscuit cutters in the past. They're also great if you want to get kids involved with the process, whether it be the baking, preparing the strawberries, or assembling the final product.<br /><br />And then there's the most important part - they are delicious!!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-4412550096528636912?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-58488559514820031252009-05-09T17:24:00.001-04:002009-05-09T17:28:27.393-04:00A Perfect Example of Chewie's Mental "Problems"The dog is crazy. Just plain crazy.<br /><br /><br /><object height="364" width="445"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oXfY1EalSEU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oXfY1EalSEU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="364" width="445"></embed></object><br /><br />And this is his normal behavior.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-5848855951482003125?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-1555809453320218412009-05-05T17:05:00.004-04:002009-05-05T17:16:40.808-04:00One Day I'll LearnI took the afternoon off (in terms of academic stuff) and planted everything that needed to be planted (that I hadn't yet planted - I did a little the other day). This is a good thing. Here are some of the results. There are more.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SgCqo11qveI/AAAAAAAABDU/nkb5dMa5Bt4/s1600-h/100_5920.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SgCqo11qveI/AAAAAAAABDU/nkb5dMa5Bt4/s400/100_5920.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332449577430334946" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SgCq-SRTsQI/AAAAAAAABDc/SoT_J72bteQ/s1600-h/100_5909.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SgCq-SRTsQI/AAAAAAAABDc/SoT_J72bteQ/s400/100_5909.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332449945839710466" border="0" /></a><br />Anyway, there was a point before I finished when I knew I should stop. I had been out in the sun long enough. But no, I didn't stop. I wanted to finish this so I wouldn't have to play in the dirt again. As a result, I have a light burn. I knew better, I knew what would happen, and I stayed out anyway. I suppose it could have been worse (like, if I hadn't worn sunscreen to begin with). So, I took some ibuprofen, took a cool shower, and moisturized. Hopefully the pink will fade soon. I'm also a bit sore from lifting bags of dirt and moving filled planters to their proper location. I am such a wimp.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-155580945332021841?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-10626392932227178632009-04-29T19:44:00.006-04:002009-04-29T20:23:28.190-04:00Today's PurchasesEnglish Daisies<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sfjrhu9lpMI/AAAAAAAABB8/DfOSghz4Rio/s1600-h/100_5736.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sfjrhu9lpMI/AAAAAAAABB8/DfOSghz4Rio/s320/100_5736.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330269123767542978" border="0" /></a><br />Tickseeds<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjrhWVGX7I/AAAAAAAABB0/JDXe69ju3kw/s1600-h/100_5730.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjrhWVGX7I/AAAAAAAABB0/JDXe69ju3kw/s320/100_5730.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330269117155270578" border="0" /></a><br />Blue Salvia<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjrhE_anqI/AAAAAAAABBs/MHnkLcS7avM/s1600-h/100_5726.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjrhE_anqI/AAAAAAAABBs/MHnkLcS7avM/s320/100_5726.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330269112500919970" border="0" /></a><br />Marigolds<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sfjrg_8qvrI/AAAAAAAABBk/0WqSPenIejw/s1600-h/100_5722.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sfjrg_8qvrI/AAAAAAAABBk/0WqSPenIejw/s320/100_5722.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330269111147216562" border="0" /></a><br />Brandywine Tomatoes<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sfjrh_iYmxI/AAAAAAAABCE/CsspxCXI-Pw/s1600-h/100_5758.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sfjrh_iYmxI/AAAAAAAABCE/CsspxCXI-Pw/s320/100_5758.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330269128216845074" border="0" /></a><br />Cherokee Purple Tomatoes<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjtGZv5LbI/AAAAAAAABCk/rtJKtnWzebQ/s1600-h/100_5762.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjtGZv5LbI/AAAAAAAABCk/rtJKtnWzebQ/s320/100_5762.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330270853239745970" border="0" /></a><br />Old German Tomatoes<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjtGDBnXWI/AAAAAAAABCc/hHACP0IdFnU/s1600-h/100_5761.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjtGDBnXWI/AAAAAAAABCc/hHACP0IdFnU/s320/100_5761.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330270847140060514" border="0" /></a><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br />Rosemary<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjtFnWlA_I/AAAAAAAABCM/DPLCReoyCmE/s1600-h/100_5770.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjtFnWlA_I/AAAAAAAABCM/DPLCReoyCmE/s320/100_5770.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330270839711794162" border="0" /></a><br />Sweet Basil<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjucCebP-I/AAAAAAAABDM/aO0Mh_ex_y4/s1600-h/100_5782.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SfjucCebP-I/AAAAAAAABDM/aO0Mh_ex_y4/s320/100_5782.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330272324461215714" border="0" /></a><br />Thai Basil<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sfjub8SLqXI/AAAAAAAABDE/Wlsa16xFZNI/s1600-h/100_5780.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sfjub8SLqXI/AAAAAAAABDE/Wlsa16xFZNI/s320/100_5780.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330272322799249778" border="0" /></a><br />Pineapple Sage and Regular Sage<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sfjuba_4csI/AAAAAAAABC0/ug9tWYif6KQ/s1600-h/100_5773.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sfjuba_4csI/AAAAAAAABC0/ug9tWYif6KQ/s320/100_5773.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330272313864123074" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-1062639293222717863?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-40643560276486080452009-04-26T00:17:00.000-04:002009-04-26T00:18:11.506-04:00Fire! (Updated)Last night, I heard a lot of sirens while I was in bed (around and after midnight). They came at multiple intervals, and seemed to stop nearby - as in, the sirens stopped before the sound faded away. I figured it had to be close.<br /><br />Well, it was. About 1 to 1 1/2 miles away, to be exact. And it was big! Ten houses along the lake were on fire; at least five are completely destroyed. We've had high winds the past could of days, and I imagine that helped the fire spread. At least 7 fire departments were at the scene, which explains why I kept hearing waves of sirens. If I had gone outside and onto the dock, I probably could have seen the flames.<br /><br />I haven't seen any reports that indicate that anyone was hurt, but it's still early. A lot of the houses around here are vacation homes and it's a little early in the season for people to come to the lake. The water's still pretty cold. Regardless, damages are estimated (so far) at 6 to 8 million dollars. There's a lot of expensive property on this lake. My family is only here because we've had the property since the 1950s, way before the real estate market around here went crazy in more recent decades.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Update:</span> No one was injured, which is a very good thing, although they suspect a cat died. Only two of the homes were occupied at the time. We had wind gusts of 20 to 30 mph last night, so it didn't take much to send the flames from house to house. Plus, a lot of the newer houses on the lake are fairly close together. In some areas, when people bought property, they tore down the older (smaller) homes and built much larger houses, leaving little lawn space between houses. I don't know if this made a difference or not, but it couldn't have helped the situation. Where I am, most of the homes are from before the large house building boom and the newer homes, while a little larger, are still in scale with the rest of the neighborhood. Still, it's all pretty terrible. <br /><br />The fire was so hot, that homes (that weren't part of the fire) nearby ended up with melted siding. The paint melted off of the fire trucks - their safe parking spot became unsafe and they had to move. There ended up being close to 100 firefighters at the scene. This isn't an easy place to deal with fires. The roads are narrow and winding, its slightly hilly, and those houses are close together.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-4064356027648608045?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-74243839086127402552009-04-18T17:20:00.000-04:002009-04-18T17:21:54.924-04:00Random Happenings and ObsessionsThis week brought gorgeous sunshine and warmth. It also brought swarms of bloodsucking insects. For about three days, despite the otherwise wonderful nature of, well, nature, I felt trapped inside. Whenever I ventured out, they descended upon me, looking for their next meal. They've mostly disappeared, but there are a few stragglers out there. Miserable beasts!<br /><br />Hmmmm...what else is going on?<br /><br />Plum and Sophie love each other, which makes me very happy since I know people who have cats that don't get along quite this well.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Seo_JCBWXnI/AAAAAAAABAk/h8g7BrD4HUA/s1600-h/100_5623.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Seo_JCBWXnI/AAAAAAAABAk/h8g7BrD4HUA/s400/100_5623.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326138933712936562" border="0" /></a><br />I successfully conquered double stuff oreo cravings earlier this week. Today, however, I bought fudgesicles.<br /><br />I spent too much money on sunscreen today, but I'd like to go outside and enjoy the weather. I'll be starting the season with spf 55 and I'll still need to be careful. I don't tan much at all - I mostly burn - so if I get down to spf 30 this summer I will be shocked. And, with my sensitive skin I can't use a lot of the products out there, so I end up spending more money so that the stuff protecting my skin doesn't irritate it. My sister is a sun worshiper who thinks that spf 8 is a lot and uses those tanning oil products. She always had better skin (mine is hyper-sensitive), but I think that in the long run I'm going to come out on top. Not that it's a contest. No, not at all.<br /><br />For some reason I've been going back and forth about whether or not I like the color of my eyes. I realize this is weird.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SepCypLFrZI/AAAAAAAABA4/3UKW8WRbJwY/s1600-h/Allergy+Eyes+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 92px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SepCypLFrZI/AAAAAAAABA4/3UKW8WRbJwY/s400/Allergy+Eyes+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326142947132288402" border="0" /></a><br />The day I took this picture, I didn't, but today I'm ok with them. It just seems like they were greener when I was younger.<br /><br />As far as the dissertation goes, it feels like a battle. Is that how it's suppose to be? I know that I set ridiculous standards for myself. I probably shouldn't compare it to books published by top scholars in the field, but I do. I suspect this isn't good in terms of how I value my own writing and research. If I didn't do this, I wonder if I'd be happier about my work?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-7424383908612740255?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-62176662939056817342009-04-13T22:47:00.003-04:002009-04-13T22:59:17.392-04:00DetoxIt was a weekend of way too much food. That's all there is to it. <br /><br />Friday: Birthday celebration the day before my actual birthday. BBQ and accompaniments, cake, ice cream, and Easter candy since my sister's kids were at their dad's for Easter. Ate too much.<br /><br />Saturday: Actual birthday dinner at good restaurant. Really fabulous onion soup, ridiculously large ribeye steak, steak fries, green beans, carrot cake. Not too mention the fact that I had a slice of leftover cake from the night before at lunch. Ate too much. <br /><br />Sunday: Easter brunch. So many choices, so little space in the digestive track. Ate too much. <br /><br /><br />This week, it's raisin bran for breakfast, light sandwich for lunch, apple for snack, salad for dinner kinds of days. A sort of detox since I had so much rich, fat-laden food over the weekend. Plus, I had far more meat than normal. And sweets. I love them but this was too much.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-6217666293905681734?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-55771213385446112202009-04-07T00:04:00.002-04:002009-04-07T00:19:59.033-04:00k8's ContradictionsFor those of you who haven't been blessed enough to see the results of the facebook quizzes I've taken in the past couple of weeks, you get to see them now. While I know that these are completely random, I think the results are a hilariously contradictory.<br /><br />Here are the quiz titles and here's who I am"<br /><br />1. What kind of weather am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Rain</span><br /><br />2. What Muppet's character am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Animal</span><br /><br />3. What magical creature am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">A Griffin</span><br /><br />4. What cat am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">A Funny Cat</span><br /><br />5. Which Norse God am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Freyja</span><br /><br />6. Which great philosopher am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Hegel</span><br /><br />7. What Bible character am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Elijah</span><br /><br />8. Which Greek God am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Hera</span><br /><br />9. Which of the 7 deadly sins am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Vanity</span><br /><br />10. Which punk rock star am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Patti Smith</span><br /><br />11. Which social theorist am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">bell hooks</span><br /><br />12. Which House, M.D. character am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">House</span><br /><br />13. Which Star Trek NG character am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Counselor Troi</span><br /><br />14. Which Joss Whedon character am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Willow Rosenberg</span><br /><br />15. Which Batman villain am I? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Catwoman</span><br /><br />16. What is my true age? <span style="font-weight: bold;">22</span> (um, try almost 36)<br /><br />17. Which character on Lost am I most like? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Sawyer</span> <br /><br />um...yeah, that all makes sense.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-5577121338544611220?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-39822817664853466962009-04-03T20:15:00.009-04:002009-04-03T20:37:00.477-04:00Just Say Yes!**The following videos are sponsored by the Catnip Growers of America**<br /><br />The kitties got new collars this week. I thought it was about time to retire the nasty looking things they received at the shelter, so I did a little shopping at <a href="http://www.etsy.com/">Etsy</a>. Sophie is now stylin' in this brown argyle collar<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SdaqI0qV3iI/AAAAAAAABAU/0d_KAen3fbA/s1600-h/100_5534.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SdaqI0qV3iI/AAAAAAAABAU/0d_KAen3fbA/s400/100_5534.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320627078336732706" border="0" /></a><br />while Plum is pretty in purple and pink<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sdaqzl0LyoI/AAAAAAAABAc/6olq1ruAHnA/s1600-h/100_5540.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/Sdaqzl0LyoI/AAAAAAAABAc/6olq1ruAHnA/s400/100_5540.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320627813085858434" border="0" /></a><br />But the real story here is that I purchased some catnip toys for them from <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=6635180">the same seller</a> that I got the collars from. Lesson #1 - if the cat collar is shipped with the catnip toys, the cats might want to attack each other's collar. Sadly, I didn't get video of that. I did, however, catch them playing with their new catnip kicksticks (pictured below).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SdapH4CsDrI/AAAAAAAABAM/xODRLQLzqsU/s1600-h/100_5533.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SdapH4CsDrI/AAAAAAAABAM/xODRLQLzqsU/s400/100_5533.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320625962552659634" border="0" /></a><br />This is Plum engaging in the typical manic drug-seeking behavior we all expect from catnip imbibers.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rwh3hxKaJe4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rwh3hxKaJe4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />Sophie takes more of an attack the 'nip approach, which leads her to further strange behavior.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PTePgx333dM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PTePgx333dM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/P64foX__1sg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/P64foX__1sg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />By the end of filming, two catnip kicksticks were soaked in cat drool.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-3982281766485346696?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-37801546840399148632009-03-30T16:44:00.002-04:002009-03-30T18:40:56.886-04:00Does Anybody Else Have A Problem With......chocolate execution weapons???<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SdEvtXhPBkI/AAAAAAAABAE/Sq3E5lYTLgA/s1600-h/100_5469.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SdEvtXhPBkI/AAAAAAAABAE/Sq3E5lYTLgA/s400/100_5469.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319085091355297346" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SdEvtGKd3ZI/AAAAAAAAA_8/UInnleOE97M/s1600-h/100_5468.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/SdEvtGKd3ZI/AAAAAAAAA_8/UInnleOE97M/s400/100_5468.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319085086696398226" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-3780154684039914863?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-10495048359422999002009-03-27T20:00:00.002-04:002009-03-27T20:05:37.897-04:00My Cat Plays FetchI took a couple videos of Plum playing fetch. I'm talking to her a lot in them because 1) I'm trying to encourage her to continue to play fetch, and 2) I'd love it if I could verbally direct her to appropriate toys when she is getting into things she shouldn't be getting into. So, there's a lot of positive reinforcement and repetition going on.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z2QhA-Fb-nM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z2QhA-Fb-nM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />In this one, she decides that she is done.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DOHmxw1ODYc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DOHmxw1ODYc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-1049504835942299900?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-18594615924605935172009-03-25T17:57:00.002-04:002009-03-25T18:05:50.715-04:00The Work Of WritingPeople just don't get it. I know this is probably every dissertator's complaint. It's probably the complaint of most academics, for that matter. <br /><br />I just can't start and stop writing at random intervals. If I say that I am writing or that I am reading, it means that I need sustained, uninterrupted time to do these tasks. Note, I said tasks, not pleasures. I enjoy my work, but reading for work is not the same sort of activity as reading for fun. I need time to focus on it, reflect on it, etc. <br /><br />So, if you want to plan to do something, let's actually make plans. Let's set a time. Saying "sometime tomorrow" doesn't work for me. My schedule isn't that fluid, even if it appears to be. I need to plan for chunks of time to do the work of writing. That's just how it is. That interruption can throw off my writing for the day. It makes me less productive, and that isn't good because I want to finish this dissertation. <br /><br />I realize that most people don't understand the type of intense work this sort of writing requires. And they don't realize that while reading and writing are things I've always done well, that doesn't mean that these particular reading and writing activities are easy for me. No, I can't just crank out a dissertation like I use to crank out papers the night before they were due when I was in high school. Just doesn't work that way.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-1859461592460593517?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-56630818966804750782009-03-21T21:24:00.008-04:002009-03-27T23:46:11.303-04:00CCCC 2009 - The Actual ConferenceSo, I've mentioned the details of the trips <a href="http://harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com/2009/03/cccc-2009.html">to</a> and <a href="http://harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com/2009/03/return-from-4cs.html">from</a> the conference, so I suppose I should say something about the conference itself.<br /><br />(I wonder if it means something that New Order's <span style="font-style: italic;">Regret</span> just came on.)<br /><br />After attending the opening ritual,<br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UWjKFylOE7s&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UWjKFylOE7s&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vyyN6vPsyFc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vyyN6vPsyFc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3oiSds7qxvI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3oiSds7qxvI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />I went to support fellow UW folks in session A.01. Mira and Kate rocked their parts of a panel titled "Un/Documented Literacies: Rewriting Cultural Citizenships in the United States. Afterwards, I took a break. I normally wouldn't skip a session so early in the program, but I was due to present during the C session of the day. So, I took a quick tour of the exhibition hall, had lunch, and prepared myself.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScWeXqPZ7qI/AAAAAAAAA_U/Wvsf1m43C1A/s1600-h/Working+Lunch.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScWeXqPZ7qI/AAAAAAAAA_U/Wvsf1m43C1A/s400/Working+Lunch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315829064493821602" border="0" /></a>Yes, I had two desserts.<br /><br />I prepared myself for presenting my work to two people, not including the rest of the panel. Good times! Oh well, I am not a big name (or even a little name - I am invisible) and I don't study anything trendy or sexy. Normally, it doesn't bother me that much, but I felt a little boring and irrelevant right then.<br /><br />After that, I went to a great session - D.26 - about having undergraduate students perform archival research. I really love hearing things like this - it's the librarian in me. It also makes me miss information literacy work. I'm already thinking about potential post-dissertation projects....<br /><br />(Iggy Pop's <span style="font-style: italic;">Lust For Life</span> is now on)<br /><br />My E session was another great one, with one disappointment. I went to the featured session: "Before and After Alcatraz: Waves of American Indian Protest." The session itself was a really great exploration of how representations of history are memorialized, performed, understood, etc. My sole disappointment was the fact that there weren't very many people there for this session commemorating the 40th anniversary of the occupation of Alcatraz. Oh wait - I was also disappointed that I was probably one of the few white folks there and of those, one of the very few not involved with American Indian Studies. Really folks, I know there's a lot going on at the conference, but so much for embracing diversity and attending a featured session focusing on a non-white group. The session was good. You missed out.<br /><br />(Violent Femmes <span style="font-style: italic;">Blister in the Sun</span> just came on)<br /><br />After that, the panels were over for the day, so I wandered around aimlessly until it was time for a SIG to begin. I went to the SIG meeting for Disability Studies, which was very good. Afterwards, I went to dinner with other people who were at the meeting.<br /><br />End, day one.<br /><br />(Oh dear God! Boys Don't Cry's <span style="font-style: italic;">I wanna be a cowboy</span> is now playing.)<br /><br />Day Two:<br /><br />I went to an early session - F.30 "Empty Rhetoric and Academic Bullshit: Strategies For Composition's Self-representation in National Arenas" featuring Michael Edwards, Margaret Price, Lauren Rosenberg, and Mark Bauerlein. I'll admit, I partially dragged myself out of bed to hear what wonders Bauerlein had to bestow upon our profession from on high. He really didn't have anything to say that I haven't heard discussed before by people in the field. His talk was tired. The other presenters actually had new and interesting things to say.<br /><br />(Need a new channel - Jane's Addiction, <span style="font-style: italic;">Jane Says</span> Live!)<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Jane says...I'm done with Sergio...</span><br /><br />Oh wait, the conference.<br /><br />I went to see Rik do his thing. From his presentation, I would have never known about <a href="http://www.rikhunter.com/?p=243">the horror he endured</a> when he lost his laptop on the way to the conference. He was great! Sadly, at this point I wasn't. I was too tired, so I left after he presented and walked around the exhibit hall again to wake myself up. I didn't really wake up, but I did acquire loot:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScWa0cC33jI/AAAAAAAAA_M/7tvf0HjBM40/s1600-h/Loot-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScWa0cC33jI/AAAAAAAAA_M/7tvf0HjBM40/s400/Loot-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315825160852856370" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">don't know don't know...what to do about it...</span><br /><br />I do like my books.<br /><br />(Cranberries - <span style="font-style: italic;">Zombie</span>)<br /><br />So, after that I took a nap. Then I grabbed some lunch. And then, I met with my dissertation director to discuss a chapter. I actually made it back for one more session, which was also excellent. K.10 Tracing the Stream and Filling the Well: Afrafeminist (Re)Definitions of African Diasporic Women's Lieracies/Compositions and Critical Intellectual Work.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>(Barenaked Ladies - <span style="font-style: italic;">Brian Wilson</span> Live)<br /><br />I loved hearing Rhea Lathan, UW alum, discussing her notion of Gospel Literacy. I also really appreciated Carmen Kynard's discussion of her work in the classroom and the student writing she shared focusing on the experiences of young black women. Tamika Carey - you rocked too!<br /><br />I was really lucky to hear such great presentations this year. Normally I hit at least one that is less than good, but this year I lucked out. Of course, I didn't make it to any the next day because of my early flight.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">...9:30 on a Tuesday night...</span><br /><br />For me, the conference concluded with the Awards Ceremony.<br /><br />(Smashing Pumpkins - <span style="font-style: italic;">Zero</span>)<br /><br />One of this year's winner's of the Outstanding Book Award was UW grad John Duffy for his book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Writing-These-Roots-Historical-Development/dp/0824830954/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books&amp;qid=1237687729&amp;sr=8-1"><span style="font-style: italic;">Writing From These Roots: The Historical Development of Literacy in a Hmong American Community</span>.</a> Check it out!! Sooooo proud of my fellow Badgers!!<br /><br />(Sugar - <span style="font-style: italic;">Helpless</span>)<br /><br />I almost forgot! Here's a picture of our swag!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScWfBEsxuEI/AAAAAAAAA_c/RzIjICh-Ako/s1600-h/Swag-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScWfBEsxuEI/AAAAAAAAA_c/RzIjICh-Ako/s400/Swag-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315829775970973762" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-5663081896680475078?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-36508717077178260622009-03-21T19:14:00.005-04:002009-03-21T19:20:24.810-04:00What City Folk Miss Out OnSeeing things like this when they do a little shopping.<br /><br />The first is the best, if only for the clip art on the sign.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScV1l9eFFII/AAAAAAAAA_E/C-e3DT-nS08/s1600-h/100_5371.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScV1l9eFFII/AAAAAAAAA_E/C-e3DT-nS08/s400/100_5371.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315784230197073026" border="0" /></a>Baby Ducks!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScV1liPLUuI/AAAAAAAAA-8/LuOdJ_-zAmM/s1600-h/100_5380.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScV1liPLUuI/AAAAAAAAA-8/LuOdJ_-zAmM/s400/100_5380.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315784222886810338" border="0" /></a>Baby Turkeys!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScV1lYhCWMI/AAAAAAAAA-0/jAxnLQeHiL4/s1600-h/100_5373.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScV1lYhCWMI/AAAAAAAAA-0/jAxnLQeHiL4/s400/100_5373.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315784220277364930" border="0" /></a>Chickens!!!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScV1k7Bq0NI/AAAAAAAAA-s/2hUrT8FLzOo/s1600-h/100_5365.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1sE1ggymww/ScV1k7Bq0NI/AAAAAAAAA-s/2hUrT8FLzOo/s400/100_5365.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315784212361171154" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-3650871707717826062?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23146971.post-13294588326622737432009-03-17T22:33:00.005-04:002009-03-18T00:20:09.205-04:00The Return From 4CsThe return trip from the conference was not particularly enjoyable. I made my plane reservations a bit later than I should have, so my choices (for a reasonably priced flight) on the way home involved either taking the red eye or having two layovers. I chose the latter option. I'm still not sure if this was such a great idea.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Part One:</span> San Francisco to Las Vegas<br /><br />I get to the airport and am dismayed to discover that I am not in the terminal with the wine bar and extensive wine store. I didn't plan to drink; I wanted to buy a few bottles of the regional beverages for family. It turned out to be a good thing this didn't work out. Anyway, this was obviously the party plane. Here is what I have to say to the two German guys sitting across the aisle from me: <blockquote>Guys, if you have to sing Viva Las Vegas loudly and repeatedly on the plane, please try to know more of the lyrics than just viva, Las Vegas. I don't care how much you are going to party and I suspect that no one else really wants to talk to you, so please stop asking them to tell you where they are staying and where the best party spots are. Oh, and I really don't care that you haven't slept in 2 days while partying in San Francisco. Take your wannabe hip hop butts off of the plane. Seriously - those sun glasses are not remotely cool and those pants are soooo 10 years ago. Everyone around you is rolling their eyes. We are not impressed. It is times like this one when I wish I didn't understand German. If I didn't, I could at least block out part of your conversations.<br /></blockquote>It was just bad.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Part Two:</span> Las Vegas to Chicago<br /><br />I arrive. I look at the list of departing flights and don't see mine listed anywhere. Temporary moment of panic. I ask a woman at one of the service counters for help. She locates my flight and I am off to Terminal D. To get to this terminal, I have to leave the post-security area and go back through security again, and then I had to get on a tram. It is a very good thing I didn't spend money on wine at the previous airport. Still, I was not pleased. You'd think they'd have a tram that transported people to that terminal without making them go through security again. The whole time this is happening, I hear the annoying electronic noises of all of the slot machines in the airport. I'm very thankful that I didn't need to spend much time at this airport. When I arrived at the gate the plane was already boarding, though, so I didn't have time to grab a snack as planned.<br /><br />The flight into Chicago was 10 minutes early. I was excited. I would have time to grab something to eat!! Sadly, my excitement soon turned into exasperation.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Part Three:</span> Chicago to Fort Wayne<br /><br />The previous flight was early, but that didn't mean a thing. Another plane was at our gate. We sat on the plane for close to 40 minutes waiting to be allowed to approach the gate. I could have walked to the terminal. When I finally got off the plane, my next flight was already boarding. I moved as fast as I could in my open-back shoes to get to my next flight. I barely made it, winded and panting, ten minutes before the scheduled departure. I hated that I had to sit next to someone while feeling sweaty and exhausted. Bleh.<br /><br />When I finally arrived at Ft. Wayne, I was starving. I hadn't eaten since breakfast, before 9:00 am PST, and it was now 11:00 pm EST. I didn't get to eat until almost an hour later when I arrived at my parents' house. Had I driven all the way home, it would have been another 1/2 hour. Plus, they were cat sitting. Thankfully, I was picked up at the airport. I was exhausted.<br /><br />And that was my trip home from the conference.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23146971-1329458832662273743?l=harmoniasnecklace.blogspot.com'/></div>k8http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547334819703279971harmoniasnecklace@gmail.com0