Eclectic Granny

Round Robin Challenge: Embarrassing Ebay Item

2008-07-26T06:00:00.000-07:00

It's the Round Robin Challenge Saturday. This week's challenge is:

Kim of Nekked Lizard Adventures has suggested you photograph the item or items you would like to get rid of but are too embarrassed to even admit to having! That's right, it's show and tell time!

"An Item You'd Like To Sell On EBAY, But You're Too Embarrassed"

We've all got those things and like the old saying goes, one's trash is another's treasure. What do you want to get rid of?

When I took my first portrait painting class, my art studio teacher made me promise to keep the first portrait I ever painted so that when I get discouraged, I could take the first one out to see how far I've come. Yeah, right. I kept it. It's been in the dark part of my cabinet on the lowest shelf for lo, these many years. Every time I take it out, I think I should throw it away or put it on Ebay, but I really don't want to be linked to it. Here it is... literally out of the closet:

The things I do for you guys.

Randy Pausch 1960-2008

2008-07-25T09:56:00.001-07:00

It seems like I'm writing a lot of tributes lately, but this is a tribute to a man I never met. Back in April, when I answered one of Karen's Weekend Assignments, I talked about my favorite speech. It was by Randy Pausch, a gifted teacher and techie who was a professor at Carnegie Mellon. It was ironic because just before he was given the honor of doing one of the "Last Speech" programs in Carnegie Mellon's lecture series, he found out he had pancreatic cancer and was given only a few months to live. This was September 2007. Today Randy died, but not without showing the rest of us how to do it well.

In his Last Speech, he made the comment:

I'm dying and I'm having fun. And I'm going to keep having fun every day I have left. Because there's no other way to play it.

God speed Randy. We know you're having a blast on the other side.

Here's his May 2008 commencement speech to the Carnegie Mellon this year:

How the Dead Dream

2008-07-23T11:47:00.000-07:00

This review may be an anticlimax to my previous post. This book is impossible to categorize. I’ve written several reviews, torn them up,and started again. I decided that this was going to be the one I post no matter what.

How the Dead Dream is a multilayered book. First there is the writing. Lydia Millet is absolutely brilliant. The narrative flows along, poetic in some parts, hilariously funny in others, and totally engrossing. I had to share some of the parts aloud with Oyaji who doesn’t get this type of book at all – if it doesn’t have a historical plot, adventure, and manly hero, he doesn’t want to read it. Even he got a few laughs of her descriptions.

Then there is the intricate plot. It’s a character study of an obsessive compulsive person, known only as T, who, as a child craves control and power that material things bring:

As a younger boy, when his allowance was a mere five a week—a single Lincoln, deformed giant with heavy brows and long ears, or five Washingtons with their sly sideways glance—he had a habit of secreting coins on his person, a thick and powerful quarter lodged under his tongue or discreet dimes tucked into the cheek pouches. He never swallowed and he never choked.

He remains aloof from his species, always helpful, but watching. He always has himself in control – never gets drunk at frat parties, never gets mad, just even.

His life is controlled and settled. He gains his goals bit by bit, a thriving business, money, a luxury card, an apartment in a prestigious building. His life goes smoothly until he accidentally runs over a coyote which opens him to sensitivity and the madness of life. From this point on, he starts experience emotions and sensations – love leads to grief, caring leads to abandonment. He is no longer obsessed with objects, but with life itself. He doesn’t lose his obsessive compulsion, but just channels it differently.

T begins to secretly visit habitats of animals on the cusp of extinction, whether it is in a pool in the desert or a well known zoo. Fitting with his personality, he doesn’t go there to take action like freeing the animals or vandalize the institution. He just wants to be with them:

He was alone with her [a Sumatran rhinoceros in the Bronx zoo] -- and he was content. It was not to claim the animal's attention that he was here but to let her claim his. . . . After a while the rhinoceros sighed. It was a familiar sound despite the fact that they were strangers. He knew the need for the sigh, the feel of its passage; a sigh was not a thought but substituted for one, a sign of grief or affection, of putting down something heavy that was carried too long. In the wake of the sigh he wondered exactly how lonely she was, in this minute that held the two of them. Maybe she saw beyond herself, the future after she had disappeared.

This character is all about connections and being lost no matter where you are, physically or emotionally.

About three-quarters of the way through the book, it took a puzzling turn. T has an affair with a paraplegic who never sees him again. He then uses the excuse of inspecting his real estate project in Belize to take a trip into the jungle to see some rare animals that takes on the horrific elements of the jungle scene in Joseph Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness.”

And then it ends… with a whimper.

The book was so powerful until that last quarter, I wondered what went wrong. I thought I had found the next Vonnegut until I got to those last chapters. What was wrong with her editors? Didn’t they tell her it wasn’t a satisfactory ending? It bugged me so much that I googled the title. It was there that I found this entry:

Soft Skull: How the Dead Dream by Lydia Millet
Strategizing like a solo commando, he breaks into zoos in the dead of night to sit with the animals, ... How the Dead Dream is the first book of a trilogy. ...
www.softskull.com/detailedbook.php?isbn=1-59376-184-8 - 14k –

The first book of a trilogy? Ah, that explains it. I guess I need to start saving my pennies for the next book in the series.

Indiespensable Package 1: How the Dead Dream

2008-07-22T12:49:00.000-07:00

As I noted in my previous post, the first volume in the Indiespensable subscription was, How the Dead Dream, by Lydia Millet and was sold out before I signed up. The physical packaging of the copy looked wonderful -- a custom slipcase as shown here from the Powell's ad that contained a clothbound copy numbered and autographed by the author.

I found out later from someone who makes decisions faster than I do and who subscribed to the first volume, that the package also contained an elephant sugar cookie and some Powell's flash cards. Ephemera, thy name is Powell's flash cards: "Five local business we [Powell's staff] like on Ankeny Street", an interview with Millet, book cards for other indie press books. I was so jealous.

I immediately went to my local library to find a copy. They didn't have it in the system, or so they said. I checked today and there is a copy in the catalog, but it is checked out. I bet it was there when I first asked for it, but hidden in the black hole of their processing department. (Don't get me started on my local library system. I have to drive all the way downtown because it has only 2 sites to serve a population of over 350,000 people, the central library and a "Learning Center.") I checked with the county libraries only to find that all of their copies were checked out. I could be put on the waiting list, but I couldn't wait. I had to possess that book!

I counted my pennies, coupons, and what not, and went over to my local bookstore. With the 30% coupon and $10 in store dollars, I got the hardback for less than what you'd pay for a paperback these days. Now that I think about it, that is really weird because I would have paid Powell's a lot more for the Indiespensable copy than for a trade paperback. Hmmmm.

The trade edition jacket that you see to the left made me think it was about elephants. When I got it home, I settled down in my favorite chair and read the jacket "blurb" from the publisher:

T. is a young Los Angeles real estate developer consumed by power and political ambitions. His orderly, upwardly mobile life is thrown into chaos by the sudden appearance of his nutty mother, who’s been deserted by T.’s now out-of-the-closet father. After his mother’s suicide attempt and two other deaths, T. finds himself increasingly estranged from his latest project: a retirement community in the middle of the California desert. As he juggles family, business, and social responsibilities, T. begins to nurture a curious obsession with vanishing species. Soon he’s living a double life, building sprawling subdivisions by day and breaking into zoos at night to be near the animals. A series of calamities forces T. to a tropical island, where he takes a Conrad-esque journey up a river into the remote jungle. Millet’s devastating wit, psychological acuity, and remarkable empathy for flawed humankind contend with her vision of a world slowly murdering itself.

I put the book down. Powell's can't be suggesting one of these heavy "existential, antihero hero goes through the wringer for no reason" plots. I was so distressed, that I even looked at the ending. Aargh! It was a T.S. Eliot ending, "This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper." It took me a few days to finally open the book and start it. I mean, if I have to pay money, I'm going to try to read it. I may put it in the Goodwill bag partially read, but I will try. Once again, I was taught that you shouldn't read the ending of a book before you start it.

Speaking of ending, I think I've gone on too long today. I'm approaching the "Scheduled outage at 5:30PDT" so I'll leave the actual review until later. Nothing like leading you on...

Monday Photo Shoot #29: Black Is the Color

2008-07-20T16:38:00.000-07:00

I'm baaaaaack! Last week no one posted to Karen's New Monday Photo Shoot, but luckily for me, she is persistent.

New Monday Photo Shoot #29: Photograph something black.

That's it. Black. The absence of color. It's actually a little tricky, because black things tend to appear gray or dark blue or really dark brown, or reflect other colors.

Hee-hee, not if you do your photographs in black & white, sort of...

Here are my entries:

What's more black than the sooty inside of a steam train engine?

It's my dog:

Finding something new to read

2008-07-19T14:47:00.000-07:00

A while ago I gave up reading fiction. The reason? Me. I was in a rut -- same authors, similar stories, same series, etc. I thought if I read about another child murder, assault and battery, or violent plot, I'd croak.The only one I kept reading was "In Death" series by J.D. Robb (aka Nora Roberts) because unlike her other books, it wasn't all cookie cutter and I really like the characters. They're flawed, but heroic.

Before I started working for myself, I used to trade books with a colleague. She always read interesting novels by authors that I didn't know. She was the one that got me to read Memoirs of a Geisha and Secret Life of Bees. I really miss our exchange, but we don't see each other a lot. She's still working and traveling for the same company and our schedules don't seem to mesh. I think we have a date to see a baseball game in August which sounds near enough now. We had to start planning this in April in order for it to come about.

When I voiced my concern about being in a rut, Ms. R suggested reading the books on the New York Times bestseller list. Tried that. Most of the fiction on the bestseller list is romance and mystery. Not a real stretch.

Ms. L asked why didn't I join a book club? I've done that in the past and have been bombarded with bestsellers from the major publishers that are bound cheaply. The paper they are printed on is usually cheap, acidic, and rough to the touch. Almost always a group of pages fell apart from the binding as soon as I thumbed through it. These books had less quality than the Reader's Digest Condensed Books that my mom liked to read.

[OK, I admit it. I am a book snob. In a previous life, I sold antiquarian books, primarily those covering the history of science. You know the like -- first edition Newton's Principia or Ptolemy's Cosmographia with the original illustrations. I became accustomed to handmade paper, bindings made of leather or other fine material such as vellum or linen that fit into lined slipcases. Some people like high count thread in their sheets, I love books that have sturdy paper and fine bindings. Not that I don't read paperbacks, but if I buy a hardback I want it to last.]

I stumbled upon Indiespesable while looking for a used copy of Digital Printmaking at the Powell's Book's site. They were just announcing the concept. Here's the current blurb:

Powell's subscription club delivers the best new books, with special attention to leading independent publishers. Signed first editions. Inventive, original sets. Exclusive printings.... Every six weeks, another installment to read and admire.

All titles are thoughtfully selected by Powell's staff. PLUS: Every shipment is stocked with exciting surprises.... Maybe a pre-publication copy of some great new book, or a bonus DVD or CD, or a literary periodical, or handmade chocolate — always something extra for your pleasure. It's our booklovin', box-filling prize.

As most of my friends know, I make a pilgrimage to Powell's Books every time I'm in Portland. Early on, I picked up the habit asking one of the staff there for a recommendation. I have never been disappointed in any of the things that they have suggested. When I read the description of the club, it was like it was made for me plus I didn't have to travel every six weeks to get a new suggestion!

The first book of the subscription, How the Dead Dream, by Lydia Millett, was sold out by the time I signed up. I had four weeks until the next book arrived so I wandered over to my local bookstore and used my 30% off coupon for the week and my remaining bookstore dollars to get a copy of it. I'll give you my review of it this week. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon.

Weekend Assignment #225: Rut breakers

2008-07-19T11:55:00.000-07:00

I've been having problems with Blogger in Draft lately. It's been inserting weird code into my blog and then giving me an error message. I left off for a day and am going to try again. If it doesn't work, you won't see this blog and I will be writing to the Master Blogger.

If you do see this, then you'll know that I'm really early with Karen's Weekend Assignment for once.

Weekend Assignment #225: What are you going to do this weekend (or on your next day off) that's different from what you usually do? Make plans to break out of your usual routine, and tell us what they are.

Extra Credit: What else would you do that day, if you had the time and the money?

My primary routine is to run around with my head cut off with Oyaji. We do errands, see people, maybe go on a date. We have so many activities that the weekend just flies by. My secondary routine is to work. There's always some project that on which I need to do a little more.

Since Karen gave this assignment, I decided I would do something different. Oyaji is at a model train show this weekend and it's just me and the dog. I think I will just sit down and (drumroll here) read. I seem to get so busy these days with family and work that I rarely read except if I'm on an airplane or bus going somewhere.

Last night I took the bus by myself to the Hollywood Bowl to see Julie Andrews. (Wow, she is still wonderful, even if those nasty surgeons took away her clear soprano and made her a basso alto. She knows how to phrase a song.) I took a book with me because it can be any where from 50 minutes to 2 hours to get there. I took one of the books that Powell's sent me as being a part of the Indiespensable subscription, Mudbound by Hillary Jordan. The miles flew by as I read it and I was at Part 3 when I had to get off the bus. I'll review the book later in another blog, but it is spellbinding. After the Bowl, it was too dark to read on the way home.

This morning, I kept staring at the book and finally decided that I would not do the marketing, the laundry, or other chores. I am going to sit down and finish that book! I owe you Karen.

As for the extra credit -- I was going to say that I'd go see my grandkids again, but I'm going to do that next weekend. I think that today, if I have the time and inclination, I'd like to take a nap and walk on the beach at sunset.

Sorry no photos today... I'm changing all my routines!

I give up

2008-07-17T21:42:00.000-07:00

Tonight I tried to blog, but I keep getting HTML error messages and weird stuff. Sometimes it's difficult being on the cutting edge. It's been a long day on the computer. I'll try again when the computer and I have rebooted.

Goodbye Pa-Pa, 1941-2008

2008-07-16T09:38:00.000-07:00

Pa-Pa & Grandson

As I noted recently, my postings have been delayed by my trip to the Midwest. It was a bittersweet trip, my new granddaughter was baptized on the 6th. It was a time of rejoicing that weekend. Then came Tuesday, the day before we were supposed to leave. Pa-pa, our grandson's paternal grandfather, was killed in a car crash. A woman starting a turning left in front of him into a gas station suddenly decided that she didn't want make the turn. She straightened and hit him head-on. He was pulled out of his fiery cab by a police officer who saw the accident, but Pa-pa was dead at the scene.

I met Pa-pa a little over five years ago at the rehearsal dinner for my daughters' wedding (it was a double wedding for the twins). He was a slight, dark haired man with wisp of a mustache and a playful grin. He was soft spoken so you had to listen carefully, but he had a quick wit and a disarming personality. His wife was every bit his match, a type A personality to his type B. We liked them immediately and talked with them for most of the night.

Over the years, we saw them at dinners and family functions. We met their children, their spouses, and grandchildren. We suffered with them when their son-in-law died a few years ago. We laughed with them when our mutual grandson was born. They always welcomed us warmly and we grew to love the whole family as much as our daughter does.

Pa-pa grew up very differently that we did. He was working in the coal mines at the age of 9 to support his parents and siblings. He worked a variety of jobs throughout his life to support his wife and six children. Striving to be the best in all that he did, whether it was work or his favorite pastimes, golf and poker, he made many friends as evidenced by all the people who showed up for his memorial service.

He adored his children and grandchildren. He was a man who could say I love you and to whom his kids could come for anything. After our grandson was born six months ago, he would drop by our daughter's house to play with him on his way home from work every day. He never told his wife that he did that. She learned that after he died. Those calls that came saying that he was going to be late all came from his grandson's house.

Luckily we got to visit a lot with him before he died. We saw him the weekend before he died. At the pre-baptism BBQ on Saturday, he played "washers" (a derivation of horseshoes) with my husband as his partner against two of our son-in-laws. On Sunday, he was in church for the baptism of our new granddaughter and showed up for the "baptism celebratory poker party" Sunday night. On Monday, he came over to visit with his grandson after he finished his cab shift. It is hard to think that we'll not see him again on this earth.

He lives on. His affection and love can be seen in all of his children, especially our son-in-law. I see same mischievous twinkle his eyes that was in his dad's. If my son-in-law is even half the man that his dad was (and he is that and more), I know my daughter will be truly loved and protected throughout her life.

God speed, Pa-pa. Tell Marie and the family hello for us.

A brief note from St. Louis

2008-07-11T07:37:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it's been almost a week since I posted. We were only supposed to be here until Wednesday, but Tuesday the dad of one of our son-in-laws died in a car crash. We decided to stay for the funeral whenever it is. I won't do the Round Robin challenge this week or probably the Monday morning photo shoot, but I'm aiming for the upcoming Weekend Assignment.

Traveling on a holiday

2008-07-05T08:07:00.000-07:00

Traveling on a holiday is good, especially if you have to go out of LAX (Los Angeles International Airport). Because we used our mileage to make this trip, we had little choice but to leave out of LAX on July 4. I hate LAX. I refuse to travel out of LAX when I’m traveling for business. I will drive to Long Beach or, if I have to Ontario, to avoid leaving from LAX. However, I figured since I went to the Hollywood Bowl last night for July 4^th on the 3^rd, I could stay overnight my BFF who lives not far from LAX. (BTW, the Hollywood Bowl fireworks were fantastic and the program would have been as well if we hadn’t sat behind the group from hell who were talking, standing up periodically, and tossing food to each other through most of the program.)

My BFF took us to the airport. I still hate it and it was, for LAX, not a bad experience. She dropped us off at the airline terminal. However, the doors led to the check-in for first and business class, so we had to walk at least one building to get to peon class check in. Since we had already got our boarding passes via computer (I’m no dummy), all we had to do in self check in was check our bags. We did that and waited in line to give our bags to the attendant. Of course, the people ahead of us didn’t quite understand that self-check in meant that they had to use the machines so the airline staff person had to take them to the machine and show them how to check in. In fact, he checked them in himself using the self-check-in machine. OK, fine. We finally got to the counter and put our suitcases on the scale, showed our id. The attendant put tags of the luggage. We We were then instructed to take our checked-in baggage to TSR station #1. TSR station #1 was back in the terminal area where we were dropped off. So … back across to the end of that terminal we went. We gave our luggage to the TSR person who then dragged it to the x-ray machine.

We then walked to the nearest escalator only to find that it was first and business class only. Our escalator was at the other end of the other terminal where we got the luggage tag. Dragging our carry-ons behind us, we went to the other end of the building to get the escalator to the peon security check. As we got off the escalator, we entered the security maze. We followed the ribbons and the signs down the hall to the right and then over the bridge. Once we got over the bridge, there were no signs so we walked straight following the line markers and got to the First Class/Business check-in. We were turned away so we retraced our steps. Finally one of the airport cleaners took pity on us and showed us where the peon entrance was. We failed mouse-maze 101.

Apparently, not all the LAX people had the seminar that was supposedly given to the TSR people that taught them how to be social. OC has had the seminar and you no longer feel like you’re heading the concentration camp. LAX has not got with the program. There is no joking, no conversation, no indication that these are not pod people that were especially engineered according to the specifications of the TSR. They look at you, look at your id, look at your ticket, look at you, and then wave you off to somewhere. You have to figure out which lane to get in and, like the supermarket, it’s always the wrong line.

We got behind a lady that they wouldn’t let through until she removed her sunglasses and put them on the belt for x-ray, then her hair barrette, then her belt – I think Oyaji was hoping that she’d have to remove all her clothes. No such luck for him. As she removed each offending object, she placed it on the conveyor belt between the containers that held my stuff. I made it through OK, but I had to hand over her accessories piecemeal as I emptied my containers.

We made it into the gate area. Neither of us was detained or examined by the TSR at LAX. Score one for us! Oyaji couldn’t imagine what it would be like on a real Friday! He has declared that he’s not traveling again by plane. We have to go to North Carolina for Thanksgiving. I wonder how he’s going to get there?

Celebrating the 4th of July

2008-07-03T18:03:00.000-07:00

Just a brief note to let you know that we'll be with the family over the weekend so I may not be blogging until next week.

Happy Independence Day!

Weekend Assignment #222: Phone Me

2008-07-02T18:23:00.000-07:00

Karen at Outpost Màvarin has given us another thought provoking weekend assignment:

Weekend Assignment #222: What do you use a phone for? Do you strictly use it to make calls and pick up messages, or do you take advantage of other technology bundled with phones these days? Which features do you use all the time, which others would you use if they were available and cheap, and which would you not bother with even it they were free?

Extra Credit: Do you still use your land line to make and receive calls from friends or family?

I have never been a person who liked to have long conversations over the telephone, even before cell phones. When I want to talk with someone, I want to see them. I find a lot of things are said, but the body language or mannerisms sometimes say another thing. I do use the phone to get clarifications for a project, to check in if I haven't heard from someone in a while, for emergencies, or to tell someone something they should know immediately. But I'm not chatty. Even with my kids when they call, after I find out they are fine and an overview of what's going on, I'll quickly transfer the call to Oyaji so he can have the longer chat. If I see any of my family in person, I can sit and listen to them for hours, but not by phone.

I also like it if people come to the point for calling me immediately rather than wandering around the point of the call with a "how ya doing?" "what's going on?" Granted, it is polite. I try to be just as polite when I call, but it's just so hard. I just want to get the information I need and then get on to other things.

I finally realized the value of a cell phone when I looked after Oyaji's mom. Her physicians, nurses and others who were concerned about her could contact me with any questions or information that was needed, no matter where I was. If I needed help, I had everyone on my speed dial so that I could get assistance fast.

Mom has passed on, but using the cell phone so much let me find other things that I really like. Most of them are bells and whistles, but they have made my life easier and more pleasant. I have a calendar on my phone so I can make appointments without having to say "I'll get back to you."

The phone also doubles as my travel alarm clock and my exercise timer. I don't have to account for that pound in my checked luggage!

My day brightens when I get photos and short messages from my kids and grandkids on the cell. The picture quality isn't that good, but it's enough that I can see the image. I love the immediacy. Likewise, if I see something that reminds me of them, like an Eddie Bauer store for Oldest Daughter, I can send a picture with a smiley message. After all, it's true -- a picture is worth 1000 words.

I don't use IM or Chat on my computer and I don't use text messaging on my phone to chat. I do like to text a person rather than leave a message on voicemail. With voicemail, you have to dial out, listen, then decide what to do with the message. I can't tell you how many times I've heard a message, nodded, and then hung up only to notice that the message light/icon is still on and to realize that the message is still there in the message center. It bugs me to have the message icon on my screen when I don't have any new messages. I have to dial back a second, or third, time and delete the message. With a text message, it's in your inbox on your phone - no dialing out and, once you've read it, no nagging icon.

When Oyaji is at a conference or traveling, I text him so that his phone doesn't ring during something important. He can get back to me when he has time (unless it is an emergency and then I hope he has his cell on vibrate!).

I probably would use my cell phone to surf the web, or to view podcasts if it had a brighter screen. Unfortunately, this new phone, that is supposed to be the upgrade to my old phone, does not have the screen quality of the old one. You expect an upgrade to have the same features plus new bells and whistles, but not this one. Not only is the screen worse, but the camera is terrible. My plan is up in January so I am definitely going to get a new phone and it will have a better camera and a better view screen!

Extra credit: We have a land line because of the 911 issue and because certain systems in our house require it. It's also the number that Oyaji has given his train cronies. Why? Because it has special phone for the hearing impaired. Not only can you adjust the sound of the ring and the tonality of the receiver, but it also has a light that flashes when the phone rings. Lot of good it does, he never answered it. A couple of months ago, he was fitted with hearing aids and he can hear normally now. Doesn't matter, he still doesn't answer it.

Pardon me boys, is this the Chattanooga Choo Choo?

2008-07-02T11:42:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I got a comment from Dineometer Deb telling me I'm not alone on the McDonald's cravings. It's nice to have someone tell you you're really not crazy. Annie also verified that I'm not alone.

I wandered over to Deb's site, Dine-o-meter. Huzzah! Another adventurous eater! Although I live with meat and potatoes guy, I love to try new restaurants and unique foods. I have to say Oyaji is usually a pretty good sport as long as they have a steak or hamburger somewhere on the menu, but I do have to reign in my choices when I'm with him. No curry, blue cheese or feta cheese -- the smell of these tends to turn his tummy. But now I can virtually sample new and different foods when I read her blog!

Today, however, she has a neat video on Chattanooga, TN which I think is her home town. When I visited Chattanooga in the 80s, I was unimpressed. It was grimy and I really didn't feel safe walking in the downtown area from the hotel to the class that I attended. In fact, I couldn't figure out why the guy from Chattanooga singing the Chattanooga Choo Choo song wanted to go back. Since the 80s, they must have done some magic because it looks wonderful now. I advise you to go take a look at the video if you haven't been to Chattanooga or haven't been in a long time. Now I have another reason to make the trip to the Tennessee Valley Railroad very soon.

A visit to McDonalds

2008-07-01T09:11:00.001-07:00

I remember McDonald's of my childhood. It was a walk up fast food place. The golden arches were part of the building, not just a sign. You could smell the grease from a block away. I loved their hamburgers and fries. They were fresh and toasty and didn't have an after taste.

Today, I don't go into a McDonald's if I can help it. It's hard not to, with a junk-food loving husband and a BFF who still likes those thin little hamburgers and that itsy bitsy pickle. Today I find their hamburgers are tasteless. I might as well order cardboard on a bun. The fries? That's the worst. They tried to make them crunchy again using some chemical concoction that leaves an after taste that lingers for hours. It's worse than saccharin after taste, but just as gross. I blame it on the health police. MickeyD gave in. Now that the food is healthy, it doesn't taste good. Even those healthy salads that they serve have salty pseudo-chicken strips. I'd rather eat the salads without those horrible low fat, no taste but fake salt and herb dressings. What about the apple dippers, you say? $1.59 for half an apple that has a lemony taste from a preservative? The only thing that isn't half bad is the yogurt parfait, but who knows how much sugar is in that vanilla yogurt and frozen berry syrup.

That said, why, oh, why when we go to McDonalds do I have to have bite of Oyaji's quarter-pounder with cheese and a few French fries? I know they'll taste bad, but I can't help myself. Hope against hope, perhaps?

New Monday Photo Shoot #26: Fake!

2008-06-29T19:51:00.000-07:00

Poor Karen at Outpost Màvarin. She caught my cybercold! I hope she is feeling better because I am now ready to show her a couple of my favorite fakes for the New Monday Photo Shoot:

New Monday Shoot #26: Show us something that's fake in some way. Faux fur, non-alcoholic beer, imitation bacon bits...whatever you like; if it's not real, we want to see it!

Last year, my BFF and I drove across country and on our way home we stopped at the Amana Colonies in Iowa. Unfortunately, we only had one day there, but that didn't stop us from picking up some wonderful things like Amana Woolen Mill blankets, beer, and lace. We also found a place that made garden critters that don't sneak up and scare you. I fell in love with these critters and bought three of the critters to take home with me. Let me introduce you to my fake, but lovely, copper garden critters:

Pryramus the lizard

Th-hiss-be the snake that is looking for her plant to guard

and

Ariel the Dragonfly

They may be fake, but my garden wouldn't be the same without them.

Round Robin Challenge: Weeds Can Be Beautiful Too!

2008-06-28T12:18:00.000-07:00

Oh, my gosh. It's Round Robin Saturday. As noted by the The Round Robin Photo Challenge:

[This is] the day we will play our next Round Robin Challenge:Weeds Can Be Beautiful Too! Kim, who authors the blog, Nekked Lizard Adventures, suggested this topic in our recent new topic roundup.

I looked up the word "weed" in the Merriam Webster Dictionary:

Etymology:
Middle English, from Old English wēod weed, herb; akin to Old Saxon wiod weed
Date:
before 12th century

1 a (1): a plant that is not valued where it is growing and is usually of vigorous growth; especially : one that tends to overgrow or choke out more desirable plants (2): a weedy growth of plants b: an aquatic plant; especially : seaweed c (1): tobacco products (2): marijuana2 a: an obnoxious growth, thing, or person b: something like a weed in detrimental quality; especially : an animal unfit to breed from

I think I'll go with #1b -- one that tends to overgrow or choke out more desirable plants.

As most people know, I am not a gardener. Unfortunately, as gas prices went up, I had to give up having a gardener and now my yard is full of weeds. But as Kim says, I find these weeds quite lovely and haven't go the heart to pull them out. For example:

This asparagus fern has lodged itself in my azaleas:

I love the green of the asparagus fern and how the little leaves poof out. I used to grow asparagus fern as an indoor plant until it began reproducing itself in all the rest of my houseplants. When I tried to take it out barehanded, I found that it's major adaptation is little stickers on it that hurt! I looked up the uses for it:

Uses for asparagus fern: Asparagus fern is primarily used as a filler plant in containers of mixed flowers growing during the summer. It works in wall boxes, hanging baskets, window boxes, and planters of all kinds. Asparagus fern also grows well in partially shaded ground beds, alone, or intermixed with larger, shade-tolerant flowers such as tuberous begonias, Because asparagus fern is a vigorous plant, combine with plants of some stature so they are not overpowered.

In other words, it has no useful value to me except as filler. I say it qualifies as a weed, beautiful or not.

Then there are the volunteers, which are also weeds. I try to keep the drainage trench next to the fence clean of vegetation. However, I've got two lovely volunteers, both of no intrinsic value, except they look nice, have a great penchant for reproducing, and clog my drains:

Yes, it's two "weeds" vying for the same space. I don't know what the one is with the big leaves is, but I do know that the one underneath is an Impatiens that escaped from the front garden to the back.

Then there is this lovely maidenhair fern that is growing out of the side hole of one of my orchid pots:

I know I'll have to take it out soon, but it looks kind of perky there.

Dreaming of trains

2008-06-27T18:58:00.000-07:00

Can you say, STRESS? Not only do both Oyaji and I have colds, but work is driving us crazy. We've had some long days and nights trying to get some control and today we almost made it.

I'm taking a breather for a few minutesto share with you somewhere I'd like to be:

On the train at Boulder City, NVThis engine belongs to the Nevada State Railroad Museum at Boulder City. This small railroad museum opened in 2005. There aren't much in the way of exhibits, but the big draw is the 7 mile railroad excursion along the historic Boulder Branch Line of the Nevada Southern line that was built in 1931 to deliver material to the Hoover Dam construction site. You have your choice of a seat in air conditioned/heated Pullman Cars or the bench of the open-air coach. Buy your ticket and ride Saturday or Sunday from February to December at 10am, 11:30am, 1pm or 2:30pm

If you go, there is a $1 off coupon at the Friends' site. Say hello to the engineer

and the car attendant:

Tell them hi for us and that we wish we were there.

Weekend Assignment #221: What are you drinking?

2008-06-25T14:13:00.000-07:00

I observed a pattern lately. When the grandkids come to our house at least one of them has a cold and after they leave either Oyaji (my new name for Husband -- sounds cooler than Geezer, but means the same in Japanese) or I get it and then pass it on to him. Then there is going to visit the grandkids and at least one of them has a cold... yes the same thing happens. In that case, we may have gotten sick from the enclosed environment of the "flying can," but it only seems like we get the cold after visiting grandchildren with colds. Hmmmm.

This time was Oyaji's turn to get the cold from our grandson and then kindly pass it on to me when I got home. What has this to do with Karen's Weekend Assignment?

Weekend Assignment #221: What do you like to drink? Do you prefer Coke, or Pepsi, or neither? Do you start your days at Starbucks, or end your days with a nice cup of herbal tea? Are you a connoisseur of beer, or do you like to keep a pitcher of lemonade on hand? Do you carry a bottle of water around, and refill it as you go? Tell us about your favorites!

Extra Credit: Have you ever invented your own drink sensation?

Well, my answer is defined by my cold this week...

Tea! I normally drink about four cups of it in the morning without lemon. Since I am congested, I'm adding a spritz of lemon this week. Sometimes I twirl in a splash of honey. If I'm totally miserable, I stir in a jigger of Grand Marnier. I guess I'm just slightly sick since all I crave is a bit of lemon.

My tea drinking habit began when I was a kid. Whenever I was sick it was "tea and toast" -- the tea was usually Lipton and the toast was usually Wonder Bread.

When I started working in a store during high school, there was an English tea shop nearby. I learned all sorts of things about tea and tea customs from the Canadian lady who owned the store. She taught me how to brew loose tea and how to pour tea and milk at the same time. I also learned not to try to put lemon in tea that I poured that way.

She recommended that I take Red Rose teabags with me to restaurants in America because they had no idea of how to make tea properly. Even then, I had to make sure that I poured the boiling water over the bag. I should never have cause to dunk the bag in the water in the pot or cup. She also showed me the correct way to retrieve the bag, if I must use one. You pick up your spoon, lift the bag gently out of the cup, but keep it over the mouth of the cup. Gently wrap the string around the bag and the spoon and squeeze. This allows you to wring the full flavor from the tea. Then and only then can you move the spoon with the bag on it to your saucer. I have to say that the practice sessions were quite messy.

In college, herbal teas were all the rage with some people smoking the herbs as well as drinking them . With my allergies, I never tried the smoking part, but I did try to drink the teas, much to my regret. It seems that most of the herbal teas that were made at that time had a chamomile base to them. It wasn't that I didn't like the taste of chamomile. It was just that when I drank it I got little tiny itchy red spots on strange parts of my anatomy.

Now I stick to black tea, English Breakfast for morning and Earl Grey when I have dessert, unless I can read the ingredients of an unknown brand of tea beforehand. I gave up messing with loose tea and am drinking the kind that come in biodegradable "silk" pouches.

Over the years, my children gave me wonderful assortments of tea which usually had a lovely tea cup and/or pot as shown above. Here's my dirty little secret -- today I just boil the water in a measuring cup in the microwave. I still pour the boiling water over the tea bag, but is into a Longaberger mug that I got at a garage sale for ten cents. My ceremonial days are over. Here's my real tea paraphernalia:

Extra credit: I have made a drink sensation even although I never drank it. When my mother-in-law had to drink those canned protein supplements, I would pour the supplement in the blender, add ice cream, a bit of crushed ice and pieces of fresh fruit I had on hand. She wouldn't drink the supplement as is, but boy, did she love those protein supplement smoothies.

George Carlin 1937-2008

2008-06-23T11:40:00.001-07:00

I am really going to miss him. Everyone knows him for the "Seven Words" you can't say on radio and the resulting brouhaha. I'll miss him as the narrator of Thomas the Tank and having his voice pop up in weird places, like the airhead Volkswagen bus in Cars.

I could kick myself for having the opportunity to see him in Las Vegas a few weeks ago and letting it go by. Yeah, he was a coke head and a stoner, but if you listened closely, he was a master observer of humanity.

"What does it mean to pre-board? Do you get on before you get on? "

"Most people work just hard enough not to get fired and get paid just enough money not to quit."

"People who say they don't care what people think are usually desperate to have people think they don't care what people think. "

"One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor. "

I know all of those lines because I've used them in my email signature at least once. He made me laugh and think at the same time.

Hey George, Godspeed even if you didn't believe in established religion. Tonight is going to be one of those "nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls." Goodbye, you modern man.

New Monday Photo Shoot #25: Candles

2008-06-21T20:48:00.000-07:00

Karen over at Outpost Màvarin is testing us. She says that this is Photo Shoot #24 in her post, but her title shows #25. I'll assume it's 25 and leave it at that:

New Monday Shoot #25: Nearly everyone has candles, for one purpose of another. Photograph one or more candles - real or otherwise.

I don't have many candles here although I love to light them. My problem is that if they are scented, I'm allergic to them. So I tend to have very plain, utilitarian beeswax candles scattered in drawers in case of a power failure.

I do have one candle project. I'm trying to melt different colors of wax to make a nostalgic candle in a Chianti bottle accessory. I had lots of them, both Chianti and candles. when I was in college.
Here's the current stage:

I have that nice red drip, but I need other colors and more build up on the top. I guess Geezer and I should have some more romantic dinners, a la Lady & the Tramp.

Last year, my BFF came up with the solution to my allergies. She bought me some faux candles to put in my bathroom so I can take baths by "candlelight." These are little votive candles that change colors so you get some of these effects:

Weekend Assignment: #220: Beautiful

2008-06-19T20:20:00.000-07:00

We made it back from St. Louis. I didn't have much time to blog due to the whirlwind of visiting family and friends. I am back in time to do Karen's Weekend Assignment This week the subject is:

Weekend Assignment #220: Tell us about one person, place, concept or thing you find particularly beautiful, and why it affects you in this way. If you can demonstrate its beauty with photos, great, but as always, the primary emphasis for the Weekend Assignment is words. Extra Credit:Does something threaten to disturb or destroy that beauty?

In the words of the old Ray Stevens song "everything is beautiful in its own way." Every day I go out and see the beauty around me, whether it is in the flight of a bird or the light on a blade of grass. Normally this would be a hard topic because I had to pick just one thing. Not this week.

This week I was amazed at the beauty of a newborn child. Two cells come together and in nine months they create a miniature human being. If you're lucky, they are perfect little people, complete with small fingers, toes, ears, eyes and mouth. Look at this small hand:

Yes, I know it's wrinkled and rough, but look how perfect in form it is. It fits on one finger of her grandfather. Her feet are also perfect:

Then there is the face:

Eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, all where they are supposed to be. There is the beauty of innocence in her gaze. She is formed and yet unformed. She knows nothing of what awaits her, but is open to all things.

She is beautiful because she is a miracle, but she's even more beautiful to me because she is my granddaughter.

Extra credit: Man's inhumanity to man threatens everything beautiful, my granddaughter included. The Golden Rule has been twisted into Do unto others before they do unto you. We need to get the old meaning back if we are to continue to exist.

Happy Father's Day

2008-06-15T17:45:00.000-07:00

Today two of my son-in-laws celebrated their first Father's Day. My grandson was born in December and my granddaughter was born on the 12th of June. In honor of the day, I'd like to show you the dads and kids as they are today:

And of course, we can't forget Geezer Husband is a grandad:

(Apologies to kids of oldest daughter. Grandma didn't have any pictures of you and Grandpa with her on this trip. I promise to put a couple in when I get home.)

To all Dads and Granddads (including all the Greats), have a wonderful Father's Day.

Monday Photoshoot #24: Plastics

2008-06-14T18:04:00.000-07:00

I'm going to make it on time for the Monday Photoshoot from Karen's site Outpost Màvarin:

New Monday Shoot #24: Show us something made of plastic. If it's unusual in some way, so much the better.

Since I'm still away from home, I decided to look for plastics here. I had no idea how much plastic is used in baby toys. Here's some samples from my daughter's house (the one that has the 6 month old, not the newborn):

His plastic toys on the plastic tray attached to his highchair

His bouncy toy that plays music and keeps him happy

And here's his workbench

Grandpa still has to set up the train set which is plastic. When he gets that done (don't hold your breath), I'll add that to the plastic list.

Round Robin Challenge: I Made That!

2008-06-14T07:08:00.000-07:00

This R ound's topic was suggested by Jennifer Robin of Robin's Woods.

"I Made That"

Jennifer wrote in her suggestion entry, "I Made That - Something you made, be it food, craft, child, a mess, anything (besides the picture itself!)"

When I make by hand it's usually something to give away. I like giving something away that's a part of me to my grandkids because I treasure those things that my grandparents and parents made and gave to me. I don't keep much that I make -- I grew up in an artistic household where my mom always made two pictures of everything she did -- one to sell and one to keep. I have now inherited all of her paintings and a lot of them are displayed on the walls of my house. However, those that have not found a home here or with other family members are in storage because I can't bear to part with them unless it is to someone who knew her.

I looked around the house and found one item that I did make by hand. I've saved it for many years. I took a class in Art for Children in preparation for teaching. We got to do all those neat things like crayons, rubs, clay modeling, and paper crafts that kids do today. It was really fun. For our paper mache lesson, I started out to do a lion, but ended up making squirrel. For some reason, I've kept him throughout the years and here is his picture:

and his profile:

He's a bit bedraggled on the tip of his tale, but he looks good for a 30 year old squirrel.

To see more "made it myself" entries, go to the Round Robin Photo Challenge blog.