Worth Quoting
From Disinfotainment Today:
"Hatred starts out small and grows and grows. War is the ultimate overreaction, the acme of escalation. There's no further way to express anger. The only place you can go after war is peace." - Abraham Joshua Heschel -
"A submarine could take this place out."
- George W. Bush on the Clinton library -
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Monday, November 29, 2004
Lost Post
I blogged this wonderfully long winded post about grandma, and I lost it to line noidz, dammit.
So here's the abbreviated version:
Grandma was doing pooly on Thanksgiving. Her circulation was so bad that her fingertips were purple, almost black. She was sitting up because when she laid down. her blood oxygen would crash. She was mostly behaving like a person in shock.
Yesterday, she was much better. Her fingers were flesh colored again and she was taking part in the conversations we had. Her doctor is keeping her in the hospital for another week. He told us that when she came in, she was "on her death bed". Now it looks like she'll pull through. It's still very serious, because she has an e coli infection in her blood. The antibiotics are working, but they won'te release her until they're sure there will be no recurrance. So...
Thank you for all your paryers, energies, thoughts and comments. Thank you -whoever you are- for lighting a candle for my grandma. Your thoughtfulness was noticed. Thank you all for caring. I believe it made all the difference.
I blogged this wonderfully long winded post about grandma, and I lost it to line noidz, dammit.
So here's the abbreviated version:
Grandma was doing pooly on Thanksgiving. Her circulation was so bad that her fingertips were purple, almost black. She was sitting up because when she laid down. her blood oxygen would crash. She was mostly behaving like a person in shock.
Yesterday, she was much better. Her fingers were flesh colored again and she was taking part in the conversations we had. Her doctor is keeping her in the hospital for another week. He told us that when she came in, she was "on her death bed". Now it looks like she'll pull through. It's still very serious, because she has an e coli infection in her blood. The antibiotics are working, but they won'te release her until they're sure there will be no recurrance. So...
Thank you for all your paryers, energies, thoughts and comments. Thank you -whoever you are- for lighting a candle for my grandma. Your thoughtfulness was noticed. Thank you all for caring. I believe it made all the difference.
Thursday, November 25, 2004
And I Thought This Was A Joke...
Meet the turducken. The most disgustingly all-American food, ever! I actually saw this thing in the grocery store. This turkey shaped monstrosity, proudly labeled "TURDUCKEN". I thought it was Bosnian for turkey, since St. Louis has a lot of Bosnian immigrants, and the grocery stores carry a lot of Bosnian foods now. So I thought somebody was trying to market specifically to our Bosnian immigrants.
I was wrong.
According to Scoop Du Jour, the Turducken was first created by some guy in Louisiana, with the help of his local butcher. He brought in a turkey, a duck and a chicken, and asked the butcher to de-bone them and stuff one inside the other, inside the other. So there you have it. Meat, meat and more meat, with layers of stuffing in between. It feeds 25-30 people and takes 12 hours to cook.
I'm thinking it feeds 25-30 Americans, but would provide protein for an entire village in Africa.
The Hubby-Man asked the truly important question about the Turducken... Why didn't they stuff the chicken with a Cornish Game Hen?
Meet the turducken. The most disgustingly all-American food, ever! I actually saw this thing in the grocery store. This turkey shaped monstrosity, proudly labeled "TURDUCKEN". I thought it was Bosnian for turkey, since St. Louis has a lot of Bosnian immigrants, and the grocery stores carry a lot of Bosnian foods now. So I thought somebody was trying to market specifically to our Bosnian immigrants.
I was wrong.
According to Scoop Du Jour, the Turducken was first created by some guy in Louisiana, with the help of his local butcher. He brought in a turkey, a duck and a chicken, and asked the butcher to de-bone them and stuff one inside the other, inside the other. So there you have it. Meat, meat and more meat, with layers of stuffing in between. It feeds 25-30 people and takes 12 hours to cook.
I'm thinking it feeds 25-30 Americans, but would provide protein for an entire village in Africa.
The Hubby-Man asked the truly important question about the Turducken... Why didn't they stuff the chicken with a Cornish Game Hen?
Happy Thanksgiving
I'm thankful for: Life, my family, my readers, snow, my health, comfrey and my friends.
I'm especially thankful for Persephone and Chasmyn, my two best friends -without whom I would be a quivering heap of cranberry jelly right now.
Last year was better.
Last year I woke before the alarm went off, and had fun turkey related adventures.
Last year my house was spotless.
This year, Persephone (goddess bless her!) took my son overnight so I could take half a valium. Persephone is truly an awesome person. She knew I couldn't cope, and she knew I wouldn't ask; so she offered to keep L for the night. She's bringing him back when her family leaves for thanksgiving dinner. I don't even have to pick him up! She's a goddess of giving, I tell you.
So, it's 10:00 and the turkey is not in the oven. The house is not spotless. I still have to pick up the living room, sweep the floors, clean the counters, and mop the kitchen.
I overslept, and jumped when the phone rang. Grandma is having trouble breathing, and the doctors put her on a diuretic. They're hoping that will work. I'm not sure what the whole deal is with that. Grandma had parts of both lungs removed, oh, ages ago. She had recurring pneumonia, and it just ate her lungs up. So they had to take out the bad tissue. I guess what's left of her lungs is retaining fluid? Now that my sister's gone to Conneticut for thanksgiving, we don't have anyone to tackle the doctors and get specific information. I think it's unlikely that Grandma will pull through, and I love everyone at St. Mary's hospital for doing their best anyway.
I'm thankful for: Life, my family, my readers, snow, my health, comfrey and my friends.
I'm especially thankful for Persephone and Chasmyn, my two best friends -without whom I would be a quivering heap of cranberry jelly right now.
Last year was better.
Last year I woke before the alarm went off, and had fun turkey related adventures.
Last year my house was spotless.
This year, Persephone (goddess bless her!) took my son overnight so I could take half a valium. Persephone is truly an awesome person. She knew I couldn't cope, and she knew I wouldn't ask; so she offered to keep L for the night. She's bringing him back when her family leaves for thanksgiving dinner. I don't even have to pick him up! She's a goddess of giving, I tell you.
So, it's 10:00 and the turkey is not in the oven. The house is not spotless. I still have to pick up the living room, sweep the floors, clean the counters, and mop the kitchen.
I overslept, and jumped when the phone rang. Grandma is having trouble breathing, and the doctors put her on a diuretic. They're hoping that will work. I'm not sure what the whole deal is with that. Grandma had parts of both lungs removed, oh, ages ago. She had recurring pneumonia, and it just ate her lungs up. So they had to take out the bad tissue. I guess what's left of her lungs is retaining fluid? Now that my sister's gone to Conneticut for thanksgiving, we don't have anyone to tackle the doctors and get specific information. I think it's unlikely that Grandma will pull through, and I love everyone at St. Mary's hospital for doing their best anyway.
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Grandma Update
She's out of ICU for now. The antibiotics seem to be working well, but she's very frail and her heart is very weak. She's listless, and she isn't focusing well.
My sister was visiting with grandma when the hospital priest came in. He offered Communion, and grandma just stared blankly at him. J said it was like he was speaking a foriegn language. She repeated, "Communion, grandma. He wants to give you Communion." several times until grandma got it. So, she's really not here right now.
She's out of ICU for now. The antibiotics seem to be working well, but she's very frail and her heart is very weak. She's listless, and she isn't focusing well.
My sister was visiting with grandma when the hospital priest came in. He offered Communion, and grandma just stared blankly at him. J said it was like he was speaking a foriegn language. She repeated, "Communion, grandma. He wants to give you Communion." several times until grandma got it. So, she's really not here right now.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
We Interrupt This Discussion For An Important Announcement
I really think grandma doesn't want to come to Thanksgiving dinner. I think she doesn't want to sit through a bunch of arguments over religion, politics, and M's divorce. So I don't blame her for choosing to go into the hospital instead of going to Thanksgiving dinner.
Ok, that's about all the humor I can put into this one. Because mom called last night in a panic, to tell me grandma was in the hospital. Mom was really frightened. I could hear it in her voice. She was reaching out to anyone who might "fix" this.
(Some quick background. Usually when grandma goes into the hospital, I'm the last one to know. In the rush to grandma's bedside, my family generally forgets I exist. Sometimes I don't get a call until grandma is on her way home. So to get a call within an hour of grandma going to the hospital is a big deal.)
If you don't believe in psychic stuff, just skip this next part.
So mom was scared, and she called me. I couldn't comfort mom with words, but I could give her more (possibly bogus) information. So I closed my eyes, dropped into light trance, and reached out to grandma. Now, grandma keeps herself well shielded. She doesn't want people messing around with her. She puts herself in God's hands, and she rejects the energies of people who want to "fix" her. I wasn't out to fix her, I was just looking for information; so she let me scan her.
I found the little virus that was causing the problem, nothing deadly -her immune system was handling it just fine. I found the bacteria in her stomach that was causing the vomiting, and she's on antibiotics -those should help. Well, that was what put her in the hospital, so why was mom so worried?
Then I did an overall health scan. Ah, there it is. Her heart is very weak. She's not getting enough oxygen to her muscles. Her liver is full of crap, too. Oddly enough, her kidneys were fine. Usually a liver full of crap means kidney trouble too. But her heart, oh! It felt so tired. And her spirit felt tired too. Grandma was tired of going to the hospital. She was tired of being frail. She was not tired of life, however. I told mom what I'd seen. Mom wasn't surprised at all. She already knew that the big concern was grandma's heart. She just didn't tell me until after I'd done the scan. For an instant, I felt hurt. Here I'd gone against my own ethics, to invade my grandma's privacy, just to appease my mom, and she wanted to play "test the medical intuitive"?! Then I got over it. The thoughts behind the hurt were just stuff I'd made up. They were not what is.
Aunt P was sitting with grandma when I'd done the scan, and she called mom later to say that she'd felt me. Oops. I'm not usually that obtrusive.
At 3:00 this morning, they put grandma in ICU. Her blood pressure had dropped dramatically.
Mom called me first thing in the morning to tell me. She called back while I was taking L to school, and told the Hubby Man that grandma was still in ICU -but they'd stabilized her.
So that's where things stand. Grandma is very tired. Her heart is very weak. She doesn't want resuscitation. Neither does she want unnecessary measures. The whole nursing home is praying for her, along with all her friends, several churches and her family. She is deeply loved. She lights up the room with her presence. She's just that kind of person.
I really think grandma doesn't want to come to Thanksgiving dinner. I think she doesn't want to sit through a bunch of arguments over religion, politics, and M's divorce. So I don't blame her for choosing to go into the hospital instead of going to Thanksgiving dinner.
Ok, that's about all the humor I can put into this one. Because mom called last night in a panic, to tell me grandma was in the hospital. Mom was really frightened. I could hear it in her voice. She was reaching out to anyone who might "fix" this.
(Some quick background. Usually when grandma goes into the hospital, I'm the last one to know. In the rush to grandma's bedside, my family generally forgets I exist. Sometimes I don't get a call until grandma is on her way home. So to get a call within an hour of grandma going to the hospital is a big deal.)
If you don't believe in psychic stuff, just skip this next part.
So mom was scared, and she called me. I couldn't comfort mom with words, but I could give her more (possibly bogus) information. So I closed my eyes, dropped into light trance, and reached out to grandma. Now, grandma keeps herself well shielded. She doesn't want people messing around with her. She puts herself in God's hands, and she rejects the energies of people who want to "fix" her. I wasn't out to fix her, I was just looking for information; so she let me scan her.
I found the little virus that was causing the problem, nothing deadly -her immune system was handling it just fine. I found the bacteria in her stomach that was causing the vomiting, and she's on antibiotics -those should help. Well, that was what put her in the hospital, so why was mom so worried?
Then I did an overall health scan. Ah, there it is. Her heart is very weak. She's not getting enough oxygen to her muscles. Her liver is full of crap, too. Oddly enough, her kidneys were fine. Usually a liver full of crap means kidney trouble too. But her heart, oh! It felt so tired. And her spirit felt tired too. Grandma was tired of going to the hospital. She was tired of being frail. She was not tired of life, however. I told mom what I'd seen. Mom wasn't surprised at all. She already knew that the big concern was grandma's heart. She just didn't tell me until after I'd done the scan. For an instant, I felt hurt. Here I'd gone against my own ethics, to invade my grandma's privacy, just to appease my mom, and she wanted to play "test the medical intuitive"?! Then I got over it. The thoughts behind the hurt were just stuff I'd made up. They were not what is.
Aunt P was sitting with grandma when I'd done the scan, and she called mom later to say that she'd felt me. Oops. I'm not usually that obtrusive.
At 3:00 this morning, they put grandma in ICU. Her blood pressure had dropped dramatically.
Mom called me first thing in the morning to tell me. She called back while I was taking L to school, and told the Hubby Man that grandma was still in ICU -but they'd stabilized her.
So that's where things stand. Grandma is very tired. Her heart is very weak. She doesn't want resuscitation. Neither does she want unnecessary measures. The whole nursing home is praying for her, along with all her friends, several churches and her family. She is deeply loved. She lights up the room with her presence. She's just that kind of person.
Friday, November 19, 2004
Because there's not enough room in my comments
You guys are sensible here, maybe you could help me with my wording? Here's the thing, I'm a shaman, death doesn't bother me. It's the maiming that bothers me. The marine that killed that wounded man is now, himself wounded. War put him in a position of choosing to kill another person. Now he has to live with it. Prosecuting that marine would give him the opportunity to acknowledge what he did. Rushing to his defense, saying "Don't pick on him! He had to do it!" effectively pushes the act under the rug. I know it's more comfortable to not think about it. I know it's easier to ignore it. And these soldiers cannot ignore what they've done.
I'm not interested in the right or wrong of the deed itself. I'm interested in facilitating the healing afterward. I'm not sure how to go about it, though. I know that things must be kept open. They must be discussed, rather than hidden away. And every time I try to discuss it here, I talk about war and death. Really, it's not the war and death I want to talk about. It's the people who are still here. The children who've lost a parent (or both parents), the parent who's lost a child. Worse yet, the people who've lost limbs -lost friends -lost civility. The misery makes me miserable. These poor, poor people who have to somehow go on, pretending to fit in a society that doesn't want to look at their loss.
On a side note: If the Iraqi people are animals, it is because oppression and war made them that way. Our American government has a part in that. The American people who gleefully cheer on the war have a part in that. The so-called pacifists who shout in anger "Not in my name!" have a part in that. And sadly, I have a part in that. I want to own my small piece of it. I will not shy away from the destruction. I will listen when someone needs to grieve. I will care. I will love. (but, god it's hard to love a hater)
Already I find myself trying to wiggle out of my commitment. I think to myself, "Haters aren't looking for healing, so I don't have to love them." I don't want to take the risk there. I don't want to be laughed at. I don't want to embrace their hate. Anger I can handle, but not hatred.
See how I changed the subject there? I don't want to be laughed at. I want to be valued. I have issues with worth.
You guys are sensible here, maybe you could help me with my wording? Here's the thing, I'm a shaman, death doesn't bother me. It's the maiming that bothers me. The marine that killed that wounded man is now, himself wounded. War put him in a position of choosing to kill another person. Now he has to live with it. Prosecuting that marine would give him the opportunity to acknowledge what he did. Rushing to his defense, saying "Don't pick on him! He had to do it!" effectively pushes the act under the rug. I know it's more comfortable to not think about it. I know it's easier to ignore it. And these soldiers cannot ignore what they've done.
I'm not interested in the right or wrong of the deed itself. I'm interested in facilitating the healing afterward. I'm not sure how to go about it, though. I know that things must be kept open. They must be discussed, rather than hidden away. And every time I try to discuss it here, I talk about war and death. Really, it's not the war and death I want to talk about. It's the people who are still here. The children who've lost a parent (or both parents), the parent who's lost a child. Worse yet, the people who've lost limbs -lost friends -lost civility. The misery makes me miserable. These poor, poor people who have to somehow go on, pretending to fit in a society that doesn't want to look at their loss.
On a side note: If the Iraqi people are animals, it is because oppression and war made them that way. Our American government has a part in that. The American people who gleefully cheer on the war have a part in that. The so-called pacifists who shout in anger "Not in my name!" have a part in that. And sadly, I have a part in that. I want to own my small piece of it. I will not shy away from the destruction. I will listen when someone needs to grieve. I will care. I will love. (but, god it's hard to love a hater)
Already I find myself trying to wiggle out of my commitment. I think to myself, "Haters aren't looking for healing, so I don't have to love them." I don't want to take the risk there. I don't want to be laughed at. I don't want to embrace their hate. Anger I can handle, but not hatred.
See how I changed the subject there? I don't want to be laughed at. I want to be valued. I have issues with worth.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Rather Righteous Redhead Speaks
Patrick commented on my entry One Question: "You may as well ask how one can be pro-choice (or pro-death, to be uncharitable) and still be anti-war. While I'm deeply conservative, I sometimes think I'm the only American who doesn't give a hooter's damn whether or not abortion is legal, because I think it's a non-issue. That said, an infant child is harmless. An Iraqi with a satchel bomb or an Arab on a hijacked airplane is a bit of a different story.
It's not so easy to cubbyhole people into one-size-fits-all boxes, Sharon. You're brighter than that by now, as we all know, so I wonder why you made this rather self-righteous post. Smiles."
I take no offense, and I thought a little background might clarify my question. My son is not fond of news radio, but the second he's out of the truck, I turn it on. In the mornings, I listen to NPR. In the afternoons, I listen to 97.1 FM Talk -a Fox news product. Why do I listen to that trash? You may wonder. I like to know my enemies. I like to know what kind of hatred and lies are being spread. And, that day 97.1 was talking about Falluja. People were calling in from all over to rant about how wrong it is to want to hold a soldier accountable for killing a wounded, unarmed, old man. These people were angry. Not because of the act, and not because it was caught on tape; but because the "Evil Left Media" wasn't supporting our troops.
I beg your pardon? And should we support our citizens when they break the law? I didn't hear anyone on Fox supporting Scott Peterson. I don't hear them supporting the drive-by shooters. Oh no. Those people are called terrorists. Specifically, they're called narcoterrorists.
I'm ranting, I know. Anyway, a caller ranted about the killer marine and then went on to espouse his pro-life views. The radio host actually encouraged the rant. So more people called in and went down the pro-life road. Almost all of them agreed that it was wrong to prosecute the marine, we need to support this war; and that it's wrong to have an abortion. Yeah, don't kill those American fetuses... but it's great that we're killing Iraqis.
Whatever.
Patrick commented on my entry One Question: "You may as well ask how one can be pro-choice (or pro-death, to be uncharitable) and still be anti-war. While I'm deeply conservative, I sometimes think I'm the only American who doesn't give a hooter's damn whether or not abortion is legal, because I think it's a non-issue. That said, an infant child is harmless. An Iraqi with a satchel bomb or an Arab on a hijacked airplane is a bit of a different story.
It's not so easy to cubbyhole people into one-size-fits-all boxes, Sharon. You're brighter than that by now, as we all know, so I wonder why you made this rather self-righteous post. Smiles."
I take no offense, and I thought a little background might clarify my question. My son is not fond of news radio, but the second he's out of the truck, I turn it on. In the mornings, I listen to NPR. In the afternoons, I listen to 97.1 FM Talk -a Fox news product. Why do I listen to that trash? You may wonder. I like to know my enemies. I like to know what kind of hatred and lies are being spread. And, that day 97.1 was talking about Falluja. People were calling in from all over to rant about how wrong it is to want to hold a soldier accountable for killing a wounded, unarmed, old man. These people were angry. Not because of the act, and not because it was caught on tape; but because the "Evil Left Media" wasn't supporting our troops.
I beg your pardon? And should we support our citizens when they break the law? I didn't hear anyone on Fox supporting Scott Peterson. I don't hear them supporting the drive-by shooters. Oh no. Those people are called terrorists. Specifically, they're called narcoterrorists.
I'm ranting, I know. Anyway, a caller ranted about the killer marine and then went on to espouse his pro-life views. The radio host actually encouraged the rant. So more people called in and went down the pro-life road. Almost all of them agreed that it was wrong to prosecute the marine, we need to support this war; and that it's wrong to have an abortion. Yeah, don't kill those American fetuses... but it's great that we're killing Iraqis.
Whatever.
On The Streets of St. Louis
I found a marvelous St. Louis blog named STL Streets. I like all his entries, so I've added him to my side bar.
One of his posts was about catching a mouse, and it reminded me of the mouse incident in Boston. So here's the story:
When I went to Massacheussetts to give birth to W, I stayed with an adopting family. They had two children; a newborn, and a girl about the same age as my son. I had specifically requested a family without toddlers. I didn't want a daily reminder of what I might be missing out on at home. C'est la vie. You get what you get, and I hope the experience was as good for the family as it was for me. Anyway, one night I'm awoken from a typical pregnancy dream by Anonymous Mom screaming like crazy.
She had spotted a mouse.
Anonymous Dad didn't know what to do; but his wife was in distress, and he was a Manly man, so first thing in the morning he bought a bunch of mouse traps. He baited them with the best cheese in the house, a nice hard cheddar. He checked the traps several times a day, and invariably, the cheddar would still be sitting there.
Anonymous Mom and Dad were baffled. They had never encountered mice before, and had no idea how to really catch one. They thought the glue traps were too freaky, and were afraid a humane trap would mean having to handle a filthy rodent; so they stuck with the spring-loaded trap of doom. They tried switching baits a few times. Each time they thought up a new treat to tempt their finicky mouse, I said, "Try peanut butter."
Eventually, after it was clear that nothing was working, Anonymous Dad baited one trap with peanut butter. He probably did it just to shut me up.
That night, a little after 1:00, I heard the trap spring. *clack*
It echoed through the house. It woke everyone but the baby. I stayed in my room and pretended to be asleep while I eaves dropped on the ensueing conversation:
AM: I heard a trap! Do you think we caught it? Ew ew ew!
AD: Probably not, but I'll check anyway. You stay here. This might be gross.
*footsteps*
AD: Oh! My! God! Oh, disgusting! *laughter*
AM: What? Did you catch it? What's funny?
Anonymous Child: Did you catch the mouse, Daddy? Can I see?
AD: (to child) No honey, you go back to sleep. (to wife) We caught it, alright. The trap broke it's back... and it's still eating the peanut butter!
AM: I feel sick. No! Don't show it to me! No! I'm not looking, just get rid of it!
AD: (sigh)I love you, you know.
Anonymous Dad got rid of the mouse, and re-baited the trap in case there were more. About 40 minutes later, the trap sprang shut again.
AD: Ew! It got it's face! There's blood everywhere!
AM: Just throw the whole trap away!
AD: Yeah. I'm going to bait 'em all with peanut butter, ok?
AM: Good idea.
I got no sleep that night, as you can imagine. Nor the next night. It took 5 days to catch the whole infestation. It was an amusing time.
So. If you have mice, bait your traps with peanut butter. It works!
Also try putting your people and pet food in sealed containers.
I found a marvelous St. Louis blog named STL Streets. I like all his entries, so I've added him to my side bar.
One of his posts was about catching a mouse, and it reminded me of the mouse incident in Boston. So here's the story:
When I went to Massacheussetts to give birth to W, I stayed with an adopting family. They had two children; a newborn, and a girl about the same age as my son. I had specifically requested a family without toddlers. I didn't want a daily reminder of what I might be missing out on at home. C'est la vie. You get what you get, and I hope the experience was as good for the family as it was for me. Anyway, one night I'm awoken from a typical pregnancy dream by Anonymous Mom screaming like crazy.
She had spotted a mouse.
Anonymous Dad didn't know what to do; but his wife was in distress, and he was a Manly man, so first thing in the morning he bought a bunch of mouse traps. He baited them with the best cheese in the house, a nice hard cheddar. He checked the traps several times a day, and invariably, the cheddar would still be sitting there.
Anonymous Mom and Dad were baffled. They had never encountered mice before, and had no idea how to really catch one. They thought the glue traps were too freaky, and were afraid a humane trap would mean having to handle a filthy rodent; so they stuck with the spring-loaded trap of doom. They tried switching baits a few times. Each time they thought up a new treat to tempt their finicky mouse, I said, "Try peanut butter."
Eventually, after it was clear that nothing was working, Anonymous Dad baited one trap with peanut butter. He probably did it just to shut me up.
That night, a little after 1:00, I heard the trap spring. *clack*
It echoed through the house. It woke everyone but the baby. I stayed in my room and pretended to be asleep while I eaves dropped on the ensueing conversation:
AM: I heard a trap! Do you think we caught it? Ew ew ew!
AD: Probably not, but I'll check anyway. You stay here. This might be gross.
*footsteps*
AD: Oh! My! God! Oh, disgusting! *laughter*
AM: What? Did you catch it? What's funny?
Anonymous Child: Did you catch the mouse, Daddy? Can I see?
AD: (to child) No honey, you go back to sleep. (to wife) We caught it, alright. The trap broke it's back... and it's still eating the peanut butter!
AM: I feel sick. No! Don't show it to me! No! I'm not looking, just get rid of it!
AD: (sigh)I love you, you know.
Anonymous Dad got rid of the mouse, and re-baited the trap in case there were more. About 40 minutes later, the trap sprang shut again.
AD: Ew! It got it's face! There's blood everywhere!
AM: Just throw the whole trap away!
AD: Yeah. I'm going to bait 'em all with peanut butter, ok?
AM: Good idea.
I got no sleep that night, as you can imagine. Nor the next night. It took 5 days to catch the whole infestation. It was an amusing time.
So. If you have mice, bait your traps with peanut butter. It works!
Also try putting your people and pet food in sealed containers.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Playing In The Surf
Just fascinating stuff here. I particularly get a kick out of Armageddon Online, where they cover everything from the supervolcano in Yellowstone, to alien invasion. One could spend hours on this site.
I enjoyed some guy making fire without matches a'la Tom Hanks in Castaway, The Nightmare Project -which records nightmares, and Dumb Missouri Laws.
I also found links to Responsible Shopper.org listing the good, the bad and the ugly of corporate America, and The God Checker, a searchable directory of deities.
Enjoy!
Just fascinating stuff here. I particularly get a kick out of Armageddon Online, where they cover everything from the supervolcano in Yellowstone, to alien invasion. One could spend hours on this site.
I enjoyed some guy making fire without matches a'la Tom Hanks in Castaway, The Nightmare Project -which records nightmares, and Dumb Missouri Laws.
I also found links to Responsible Shopper.org listing the good, the bad and the ugly of corporate America, and The God Checker, a searchable directory of deities.
Enjoy!
Monday, November 15, 2004
Sunday, November 14, 2004
Searching For An Old Friend
Thank you, Persephone, for helping me find that old friend tonight. Diligent searching of the internet found a one hit wonder blog entry, and his name in a few old military papers. No pictures, so I can't be sure it's him... yet I knowit's him. You know how you just know, sometimes?
He reenlisted in September.
Why, Terry, Why? (grief)
I've been looking for him on and off for a long time. I worry, you know? I'm currently searching for a way to send him a letter. Anybody know who I would contact in the Air Force, to send a letter to an old friend?
Anybody know a guy named Terry, with an infectious smile and curly brown hair, who went to VAPA, and who's a staff sergeant in the Air Force? If you do, tell him there's a little redhead in Missouri who never forgot him.
I just have a feeling that he would like to hear that.
Thank you, Persephone, for helping me find that old friend tonight. Diligent searching of the internet found a one hit wonder blog entry, and his name in a few old military papers. No pictures, so I can't be sure it's him... yet I knowit's him. You know how you just know, sometimes?
He reenlisted in September.
Why, Terry, Why? (grief)
I've been looking for him on and off for a long time. I worry, you know? I'm currently searching for a way to send him a letter. Anybody know who I would contact in the Air Force, to send a letter to an old friend?
Anybody know a guy named Terry, with an infectious smile and curly brown hair, who went to VAPA, and who's a staff sergeant in the Air Force? If you do, tell him there's a little redhead in Missouri who never forgot him.
I just have a feeling that he would like to hear that.
Saturday, November 13, 2004
Spoiler Free Movie Review
Last weekend, we saw The Incredibles. This weekend, we saw it again.
I rarely pay theater prices to see a movie twice. The Incredibles was worth it. Both times.
You know how some movies are great the first time, but suck the second time because you know what's coming? Well, we knew what was coming, and it was still great. In some ways it was better, because I could hear the audience's reactions.
I know it's Disney... but see it anyway.
One note though... please leave the toddlers at home. It's not appropriate for toddlers.
Last weekend, we saw The Incredibles. This weekend, we saw it again.
I rarely pay theater prices to see a movie twice. The Incredibles was worth it. Both times.
You know how some movies are great the first time, but suck the second time because you know what's coming? Well, we knew what was coming, and it was still great. In some ways it was better, because I could hear the audience's reactions.
I know it's Disney... but see it anyway.
One note though... please leave the toddlers at home. It's not appropriate for toddlers.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
A Voting Story
My mom is an election judge, and sometimes she will share interesting voting stories with me. This one was so good, I just had to share it with you...
St. Louis offers curbside voting to people who can't, due to disability, get into the polling place. On November 2nd, she had 4 calls for curbside voting. It's a nuisance for the other voters, because the signature book must be taken outside to the curbside voter; while everyone else in line waits. A judge also brings out a ballot booth, so the voter can place their votes. All this takes time, but the people in line were very understanding. After all, it's hard to get out of your car and into your wheelchair and up a flight of stairs, right?
So, in the middle of the evening rush; a young man walks in and asks for curbside voting for his brother. Mom picked up the signature book, and explained to the waiting crowd that she was sorry, but they would have to hold on a few minutes while she took the book outside for curbside voting. Some in the crowd grumbled, but most were patient. The brother looked at the line and said, "Hang on, I got a friend with me and we might be able to carry him in, if you promise he can go to the front of the line."
There were shouts of, "Absolutely!" "Bring him in!" and "Yes! Let the man vote!"
People left their places in line to hold open the doors, and a few minutes later they brought him in. His brother and the friend held him while he signed his name, and they held him while he voted. They held him because he couldn't stand. Both his legs were gone.
Mom doesn't speculate as to why his legs were missing, or why he didn't simply cast an absentee ballot. He voted, and that's all that matters.
My mom is an election judge, and sometimes she will share interesting voting stories with me. This one was so good, I just had to share it with you...
St. Louis offers curbside voting to people who can't, due to disability, get into the polling place. On November 2nd, she had 4 calls for curbside voting. It's a nuisance for the other voters, because the signature book must be taken outside to the curbside voter; while everyone else in line waits. A judge also brings out a ballot booth, so the voter can place their votes. All this takes time, but the people in line were very understanding. After all, it's hard to get out of your car and into your wheelchair and up a flight of stairs, right?
So, in the middle of the evening rush; a young man walks in and asks for curbside voting for his brother. Mom picked up the signature book, and explained to the waiting crowd that she was sorry, but they would have to hold on a few minutes while she took the book outside for curbside voting. Some in the crowd grumbled, but most were patient. The brother looked at the line and said, "Hang on, I got a friend with me and we might be able to carry him in, if you promise he can go to the front of the line."
There were shouts of, "Absolutely!" "Bring him in!" and "Yes! Let the man vote!"
People left their places in line to hold open the doors, and a few minutes later they brought him in. His brother and the friend held him while he signed his name, and they held him while he voted. They held him because he couldn't stand. Both his legs were gone.
Mom doesn't speculate as to why his legs were missing, or why he didn't simply cast an absentee ballot. He voted, and that's all that matters.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
I Voted For John Kerry, And All I Got Was This Lousy Sticker
Thanks for letting me know how much my vote means to you.
Democrats are angry. Democrats are despairing. Why aren't we rioting in the streets? Are we lazy? Or do we actually care about others' personal property? We know that trashing our own neighborhoods won't help. But look how well the rabid republican tactics worked. Remember 2000, when they clogged the halls and beat down doors to disrupt the recount?
We need to stand up in unison and make it clear -NO MORE! America is a republic, not a theocracy. Bush needs to be impeached.
There are legal processes. We need to use them. Impeach President Bush
Write a personal letter to your Representative. If your Representative is a Republican, ask your friends in a Democratic district to write to their representative. Articles of Impeachment are all over the internet, and it's not working. Which is why we need to write personal letters. In ink. On paper. Sent with a stamp, rather than a mouse click. If enough people demand impeachment, it will happen. It worked for the republicans when they attacked Clinton. It will work for us too. Impeaching the president served to strengthen their base. The Democrats will not strengthen their base by rolling over and showing their bellies.
I still believe in America. I still believe in democracy. I believe we can win, but first we have to try to win. We must be united in a common cause.
This is my cause, and I hope you share it with me. Impeach Bush for his crimes against his people. Help me spread the message.
Write to your Representative
Ask for impeachment
Keep asking
Thanks for letting me know how much my vote means to you.
Democrats are angry. Democrats are despairing. Why aren't we rioting in the streets? Are we lazy? Or do we actually care about others' personal property? We know that trashing our own neighborhoods won't help. But look how well the rabid republican tactics worked. Remember 2000, when they clogged the halls and beat down doors to disrupt the recount?
We need to stand up in unison and make it clear -NO MORE! America is a republic, not a theocracy. Bush needs to be impeached.
There are legal processes. We need to use them. Impeach President Bush
Write a personal letter to your Representative. If your Representative is a Republican, ask your friends in a Democratic district to write to their representative. Articles of Impeachment are all over the internet, and it's not working. Which is why we need to write personal letters. In ink. On paper. Sent with a stamp, rather than a mouse click. If enough people demand impeachment, it will happen. It worked for the republicans when they attacked Clinton. It will work for us too. Impeaching the president served to strengthen their base. The Democrats will not strengthen their base by rolling over and showing their bellies.
I still believe in America. I still believe in democracy. I believe we can win, but first we have to try to win. We must be united in a common cause.
This is my cause, and I hope you share it with me. Impeach Bush for his crimes against his people. Help me spread the message.
Write to your Representative
Ask for impeachment
Keep asking
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
God Damn You All
Damn you to the hell you believe in. And damn you Kerry for giving in so easily. You're all stupid. I hope you enjoy the world and life you've just voted in for your children. I hope you enjoy your economy. I hope you enjoy your security. I hope you enjoy your war. You asked for it. Now you have to live with it.
Damn you to the hell you believe in. And damn you Kerry for giving in so easily. You're all stupid. I hope you enjoy the world and life you've just voted in for your children. I hope you enjoy your economy. I hope you enjoy your security. I hope you enjoy your war. You asked for it. Now you have to live with it.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Post Vote Roundup
Yes, I voted for Kerry. I also voted no on every amendment except the one to raise the fine for littering. Having covered the important stuff, here's how my voting experience went:
I left the house and spotted my next door neighbor. I called out, "Didja vote yet?" And she replied, "I was just going to do that now!" So I hitched a ride with her. Woo, less walking for me!
There were no lines out in front, and only one person handing out leaflets. He had the standard green "sample ballot" that tells you to vote Democratic, and a yellow NO on ABCD. My neighbor took a set, but I said I didn't need one. We went inside and stood in a short line to be recognised and get our ballots. Then we stood in a much longer line to use one of the 7 voting "booths". I won't ever think of them as booths. They're really podiums with a privacy wall. The wait wasn't bad at all. I chatted with my neighbor for a bit, and then I got out my tub of migrane miracle and smeared some on my forehead. Crowds usually give me a headache.
The lady behind me asked me if I was using an herbal thing, and the rest of the wait in line was spent discussing herbs. So, although I stood there for 20 minutes; the time just flew by.
The actual voting was a breeze. I slid my ballot in and flipped to the second page. (since I wasn't voting a straight ticket) Right there at the top were my choices for President. John Kerry, George Bush, some libertarian, and a fourth person. I lifted the pokey thing and was filled with an irrational fear that I would punch Kerry, but the ballot would show Bush. I struggled against the compulsion to pull the book out and make sure the ballot number matched the book. It was stupid. I knew it was stupid. And the fear was there nonetheless. I've never had that happen before.
I mastered my irrationality and punched Kerry. The rest was easy. Yes, yes, no, no, no, this judge stays, that judge goes, etc. I checked my ballot for hanging chads, and the card was clean. So I folded it over and dropped it in the box.
I was home by 10:00.
Yes, I voted for Kerry. I also voted no on every amendment except the one to raise the fine for littering. Having covered the important stuff, here's how my voting experience went:
I left the house and spotted my next door neighbor. I called out, "Didja vote yet?" And she replied, "I was just going to do that now!" So I hitched a ride with her. Woo, less walking for me!
There were no lines out in front, and only one person handing out leaflets. He had the standard green "sample ballot" that tells you to vote Democratic, and a yellow NO on ABCD. My neighbor took a set, but I said I didn't need one. We went inside and stood in a short line to be recognised and get our ballots. Then we stood in a much longer line to use one of the 7 voting "booths". I won't ever think of them as booths. They're really podiums with a privacy wall. The wait wasn't bad at all. I chatted with my neighbor for a bit, and then I got out my tub of migrane miracle and smeared some on my forehead. Crowds usually give me a headache.
The lady behind me asked me if I was using an herbal thing, and the rest of the wait in line was spent discussing herbs. So, although I stood there for 20 minutes; the time just flew by.
The actual voting was a breeze. I slid my ballot in and flipped to the second page. (since I wasn't voting a straight ticket) Right there at the top were my choices for President. John Kerry, George Bush, some libertarian, and a fourth person. I lifted the pokey thing and was filled with an irrational fear that I would punch Kerry, but the ballot would show Bush. I struggled against the compulsion to pull the book out and make sure the ballot number matched the book. It was stupid. I knew it was stupid. And the fear was there nonetheless. I've never had that happen before.
I mastered my irrationality and punched Kerry. The rest was easy. Yes, yes, no, no, no, this judge stays, that judge goes, etc. I checked my ballot for hanging chads, and the card was clean. So I folded it over and dropped it in the box.
I was home by 10:00.
Blogging The Vote, the Pre-Game Show
Late getting out of the house, L was late for school. Dropped him off and rushed to my sister's place. She needed me to wait with her daughter for the school bus, so she could vote before work. Haven't seen any long lines yet, but the news is filled with stories of ridiculous voting lines.
Parking is always difficult at my polling place, so I'm walking the 3 blocks to the church where I cast my vote. I'm waiting 'til after 9:00, in the hopes that there won't be much of a wait. With the cold, rainy weather today; my arthritis won't enjoy an hour in line.
I have more vote related news, but of a personal nature. I finally told my mom about the thing I was(am) so upset about. The thing I won't talk about here. My mom is an election judge, and this time around she's an election supervisor. I believe this requires a level of integrity, and a certain clarity of mind. I'm not sure how qualified she is for the job. She was thinking about encouraging people to use provisional ballots because they come with a receipt. That's a nice idea, except that Missouri won't even look at cast provisional ballots unless the election is very close.
I set her straight. Registered voters who show up in the book must vote the regular way. Provisional ballots are only for people who are not in the book.
Mom did do one smart thing. She brought a tape measure and some chalk, and marked out a 25 foot radius around the doors. Last election they had a lot of trouble with people representing various political parties. They kept crowding and sometimes blocking the doors. That's bullshit. Nothing should impede voting. So this time, the boundaries are clear. At least until the rain washes the chalk away.
Late getting out of the house, L was late for school. Dropped him off and rushed to my sister's place. She needed me to wait with her daughter for the school bus, so she could vote before work. Haven't seen any long lines yet, but the news is filled with stories of ridiculous voting lines.
Parking is always difficult at my polling place, so I'm walking the 3 blocks to the church where I cast my vote. I'm waiting 'til after 9:00, in the hopes that there won't be much of a wait. With the cold, rainy weather today; my arthritis won't enjoy an hour in line.
I have more vote related news, but of a personal nature. I finally told my mom about the thing I was(am) so upset about. The thing I won't talk about here. My mom is an election judge, and this time around she's an election supervisor. I believe this requires a level of integrity, and a certain clarity of mind. I'm not sure how qualified she is for the job. She was thinking about encouraging people to use provisional ballots because they come with a receipt. That's a nice idea, except that Missouri won't even look at cast provisional ballots unless the election is very close.
I set her straight. Registered voters who show up in the book must vote the regular way. Provisional ballots are only for people who are not in the book.
Mom did do one smart thing. She brought a tape measure and some chalk, and marked out a 25 foot radius around the doors. Last election they had a lot of trouble with people representing various political parties. They kept crowding and sometimes blocking the doors. That's bullshit. Nothing should impede voting. So this time, the boundaries are clear. At least until the rain washes the chalk away.
Monday, November 01, 2004
NaNoWriMo
Today begins National Novel Writing Month, and this year I'm trying my fingers at it. Yes, I'm bravely attempting to type 50,000 words in 30 days. That's over 1,666 words a day. Almost 70 words an hour. Do you think I can do it? Or do you think it's yet another thing I'll never finish?
Hey, at least I'm voting.
Today begins National Novel Writing Month, and this year I'm trying my fingers at it. Yes, I'm bravely attempting to type 50,000 words in 30 days. That's over 1,666 words a day. Almost 70 words an hour. Do you think I can do it? Or do you think it's yet another thing I'll never finish?
Hey, at least I'm voting.
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