The key of the letter between F and H has broken on my keyboard. I've had a hard time with L for quite a while but in the end, I can always successfully type it. Words that include L are only minor frustrations. The same is not true for words that require...the letter between F and H.
To write becomes more of a trial when one letter is simply unavailable. Fortunately, I do have a decent vocabulary and have thus far been able to use substitutions. But my, it makes for a painful experience. I wonder if I simply hold the key down for a period of time that is more than one would naturally ggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggive, if it would start workin . And sadly, the answer is no. A pity I can't take those letters and ration them out. AR H!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Zelda
I'm aware, with the bird, that she is a wild animal. That she doesn't think like I think, that her perception of the world is quite different, that her priorities aren't mine and that her feelings are probably not like mine either. She appreciates me as a cushion, she understands me as a living creature separate from herself (I believe) and distinct from the other living creatures (aka the boy and the dog) but I honestly don't know what more she's capable of. Lately I've been trying to train her not to chew on power cords and she sort of seems to be getting it, but she looks at me with a posture that says she's trying to decide if what I'm saying or doing is meaningful to her, rather than any evidence that she actually understands what I'm saying.
With the dog, everything I do has meaning. (She definitely doesn't understand everything I say, but I think that's lack of interest.) But every movement I make, every shift of position, every tone that comes out of my mouth, she's attuned to it all. It makes it remarkably hard to go out for lunch and leave her behind. This dog has me wrapped around...her perfect black ears.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The world is ending! Eh, so what.
Spent today feeling bizarrely cheerful. For most of the weekend, I was really stressed about the whole stock market thing. For about ten years, I've had around $20,000 invested in the S&P 500. The number has never really gone up, the number has never really gone down. Oh, at one point it was $23, and at another it was $18...but basically, it's just been like a savings account. Clearly in the midst of this huge financial crisis, it's crazy to hang on to it. Right? Right?? But apparently sometime yesterday I decided that I didn't care, and that I was hanging on to it. Not because I thought it would financially reward me, but because it felt like the right thing to do. If every American pulls her money out of the market, the market collapses. That's depression. So we can't. Even if, as individuals, we'd be better off to pull our money out, as members of a collective society, it would be the wrong choice. Every individual who gains basically screws his or her neighbor. And you know, I don't want to be one of the bad guys. I just don't.
Every time I read an apocalyptic book, I know that I'd be one of the quickly dead. It makes them less fun than other books. But I would share my soup. If we were down to two bottles of water, I'd let my neighbors with the babies have mine. It's not that I'm suicidal--I'm not, not at all. And it's not that I'm crazy generous or all about sacrifice--I'm not spending my free time working in a soup kitchen or traveling to 3rd world countries to build wells. But as misanthropic as I am, I know that there does exist a life not worth living, and it's the one where you put yourself first at all moments. It's not for me. I figure that $20K is toast, and that six years from now, when R is ready for college, we're going to be all about the bargain options. But I decided today to choose that, and it's made me much more cheerful. Probably not so much if it turns out I made that choice so that some greedy Wall Street guys get to keep their billions, but I think I prefer not to think about that potential result. Let's not have a depression this week, k?
Every time I read an apocalyptic book, I know that I'd be one of the quickly dead. It makes them less fun than other books. But I would share my soup. If we were down to two bottles of water, I'd let my neighbors with the babies have mine. It's not that I'm suicidal--I'm not, not at all. And it's not that I'm crazy generous or all about sacrifice--I'm not spending my free time working in a soup kitchen or traveling to 3rd world countries to build wells. But as misanthropic as I am, I know that there does exist a life not worth living, and it's the one where you put yourself first at all moments. It's not for me. I figure that $20K is toast, and that six years from now, when R is ready for college, we're going to be all about the bargain options. But I decided today to choose that, and it's made me much more cheerful. Probably not so much if it turns out I made that choice so that some greedy Wall Street guys get to keep their billions, but I think I prefer not to think about that potential result. Let's not have a depression this week, k?
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Realization
I realized something exciting. The same people who are telling us that the financial system will collapse utterly if they don't get to loot the treasury told us that there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. Whew. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice...I hope that congress has realized this, too.
Black Monday
It's impossible not to wonder if someday we'll look back and say, that was the day the world ended. Well, okay, not ended, because if it were really all over, we wouldn't be around to be looking back. But changed. Became a dramatically different place, for now and forever.
I think I've felt since 9/11 that someday we would go back to normal. Whatever normal is. But I've definitely thought that a normal existed that was peaceful, not scary, sort of consumed by the trivial and certainly extremely comfortable.
I'm wondering whether now maybe that world is simply gone. When I visited Seattle this spring, I discovered that Jeremy was of the doomsday camp. He believes that there will come a time when guns are necessary to defend his family and maybe even that stockpiling antibiotics is a smart thing to do. I believed that we'll figure it out; that we're smart people who have managed to overcome adversity and cope with change again and again and again. But now I'm thinking maybe I want to buy some antibiotics and store them in the freezer. Historically speaking, empires fall. Did the Romans know it was happening when it was happening? Did they realize as their plumbing failed that maybe it was going to be gone for a lot longer than they could imagine? Did the dark ages start off slowly or all at once?
For years I've thought that even though my stocks have done nothing (and I do mean nothing, with a capital N), I should just be patient and wait, someday the market would start fulfilling the promises of my youth. But I'm not young anymore and I don't have another decade to wait.
And meanwhile, of course, there's plenty of food in the house, money to pay the rent for this month and the next, and work to do tomorrow morning and throughout the week. So maybe I'm wrong and the comfort goes on. But I'm going to try to be sure and appreciate the sunrises over the next few days.
I think I've felt since 9/11 that someday we would go back to normal. Whatever normal is. But I've definitely thought that a normal existed that was peaceful, not scary, sort of consumed by the trivial and certainly extremely comfortable.
I'm wondering whether now maybe that world is simply gone. When I visited Seattle this spring, I discovered that Jeremy was of the doomsday camp. He believes that there will come a time when guns are necessary to defend his family and maybe even that stockpiling antibiotics is a smart thing to do. I believed that we'll figure it out; that we're smart people who have managed to overcome adversity and cope with change again and again and again. But now I'm thinking maybe I want to buy some antibiotics and store them in the freezer. Historically speaking, empires fall. Did the Romans know it was happening when it was happening? Did they realize as their plumbing failed that maybe it was going to be gone for a lot longer than they could imagine? Did the dark ages start off slowly or all at once?
For years I've thought that even though my stocks have done nothing (and I do mean nothing, with a capital N), I should just be patient and wait, someday the market would start fulfilling the promises of my youth. But I'm not young anymore and I don't have another decade to wait.
And meanwhile, of course, there's plenty of food in the house, money to pay the rent for this month and the next, and work to do tomorrow morning and throughout the week. So maybe I'm wrong and the comfort goes on. But I'm going to try to be sure and appreciate the sunrises over the next few days.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Bread
The only thing I've eaten today is bread. Well, and butter. Bread and butter.
Came home from the school drop-off this morning and took the dough out of the fridge and it had gotten all crusty, with the top layer turning brown and hard. Ick. I pulled off the outer layer and threw it away and baked the rest but for the first time, it was not so good. It looked great, but was doughy and I could see the lines in the bread where some crusty bits had gotten rolled up in the dough. I think possibly I need to get a new container, one that's plastic with a real lid instead of using a big bowl with a pot lid on top.
And I said it was not so good, but it's still all I've eaten today. About eight slices. Even not so good home-made bread is pretty tasty.
I actually made something great with the bread dough this week. It was sort of a modified calzone. I rolled the dough out into a circle, smeared it with my artichoke spread, sprinkled some feta cheese on top, then folded the dough over. It didn't turn out like a calzone at all--way too crusty. But it was a sandwich with the artichoke warm and baked inside. It was delicious!
We also tried the new sushi restaurant over in Wekiva. It was okay, better than other sushi we've had here, but no comparison to Shogun, which left me feeling homesick. In the search for what I want to do with my future, I can't decide whether good sushi ranks as an imperative or a luxury. But we'd eat there again.
The strangest thing about the restaurant was the overheard conversations. A father and daughter across from us made me want to roll my eyes in sympathy for the teenage rebellion. If my father ever talked to me like that, I too would have been the stereotypical sullen teenager that she was. (He never did; I never was.) A couple behind us actually sent me into fits of giggles with how much like a bad television script of an unhappy couple they were. He actually accused her of saying something a million times and I couldn't understand why she didn't mercilessly mock him for the hyperbole. But he was a bully, and when I saw that they had a small child with them, my giggles faded away. And then there was another couple kitty-corner, and although I didn't hear anything from them, R did. His take was that we were the nicest people in the restaurant, somewhat mystifying since nice would not generally be my first word to describe us. But certainly we were kinder to one another than any of the others.
Still spending a lot of time thinking about what I want to do with the rest of my life. I think sometimes that I would be okay not to travel anymore, and then I think about what that would mean. Never to go to Seattle or San Francisco or Santa Cruz again? Never to see the ocean?
Came home from the school drop-off this morning and took the dough out of the fridge and it had gotten all crusty, with the top layer turning brown and hard. Ick. I pulled off the outer layer and threw it away and baked the rest but for the first time, it was not so good. It looked great, but was doughy and I could see the lines in the bread where some crusty bits had gotten rolled up in the dough. I think possibly I need to get a new container, one that's plastic with a real lid instead of using a big bowl with a pot lid on top.
And I said it was not so good, but it's still all I've eaten today. About eight slices. Even not so good home-made bread is pretty tasty.
I actually made something great with the bread dough this week. It was sort of a modified calzone. I rolled the dough out into a circle, smeared it with my artichoke spread, sprinkled some feta cheese on top, then folded the dough over. It didn't turn out like a calzone at all--way too crusty. But it was a sandwich with the artichoke warm and baked inside. It was delicious!
We also tried the new sushi restaurant over in Wekiva. It was okay, better than other sushi we've had here, but no comparison to Shogun, which left me feeling homesick. In the search for what I want to do with my future, I can't decide whether good sushi ranks as an imperative or a luxury. But we'd eat there again.
The strangest thing about the restaurant was the overheard conversations. A father and daughter across from us made me want to roll my eyes in sympathy for the teenage rebellion. If my father ever talked to me like that, I too would have been the stereotypical sullen teenager that she was. (He never did; I never was.) A couple behind us actually sent me into fits of giggles with how much like a bad television script of an unhappy couple they were. He actually accused her of saying something a million times and I couldn't understand why she didn't mercilessly mock him for the hyperbole. But he was a bully, and when I saw that they had a small child with them, my giggles faded away. And then there was another couple kitty-corner, and although I didn't hear anything from them, R did. His take was that we were the nicest people in the restaurant, somewhat mystifying since nice would not generally be my first word to describe us. But certainly we were kinder to one another than any of the others.
Still spending a lot of time thinking about what I want to do with the rest of my life. I think sometimes that I would be okay not to travel anymore, and then I think about what that would mean. Never to go to Seattle or San Francisco or Santa Cruz again? Never to see the ocean?
Monday, September 15, 2008
Wasted day
I didn't sleep well last night, although right before I woke up I had a lovely dream in which I had tamed a dragon and was on the verge of getting to fly with it. It was a huge orange-red creature, the color of fire and it was bending its neck down to me. As I reached for it, I felt a little tremor of fear, but the fear was swamped with the overwhelming excitement and joy of getting to fly. To fly! Then I woke up and realized I was over-tired and cranky and not ready for the day in the least. And my eyes were sore, whether from allergies or crying or just being tired I do not know.
Unfortunately, my boy was in much the same state. I found him lying on the floor in the family room, wrapped in his green blanket. He'd been sleepless and gone out there at 2 AM, and he was even more groggy than I was. I took him to school anyway, came home and tried to settle into the workday. Sometimes I need to set myself little goals--twenty emails answered before coffee, one chapter read and then a little outside time with the dog, and I was working in that mode, but not productively. I couldn't get my brain moving. An hour later, the phone rang. I knew before I even picked it up that it was Rory calling from school to come pick him up. I brought him home, settled him in, made him a snack--and suddenly it was noon and I'd gotten nothing done and worse, felt like I wasn't going to. So I took the day as a personal day. And then suddenly it was 5:30. I didn't nap, I didn't think, I didn't write, I did nothing, either productive or unproductive. The day just...disappeared. Well, I read some blogs. Woo-hoo.
I read some of the Palin-Gibson interview and this line struck me as interesting:
Palin: …It kind of cracked me up seeing the list of books that I supposedly banned&one of them was ‘Harry Potter!’ It wasn’t even written or published then.
I did see the list of banned books and quoted it with some doubt in conversation. The list I saw claimed that it was from meeting minutes of the Wasila Library and gave a phone number to call for verification. I wasn't about to call, of course--what a pain for that person to have their number spread on the 'net!--but the thing that struck me as interesting about Palin's statement was her recognition that there was a specific incident pre-1998 that was relevant. Palin was mayor of Wasila until 2002, as I understand it, and Harry Potter certainly was published in that timeframe. So she's conceding that she tried to ban books in 1995? She also claims that it was just a conversation, but the whole idea that the first thing she did as mayor was explore the limits of her power scares me. What would she do as President? What are the limits of presidential power these days, anyway?
Time to go save the cooking parsnips.
Unfortunately, my boy was in much the same state. I found him lying on the floor in the family room, wrapped in his green blanket. He'd been sleepless and gone out there at 2 AM, and he was even more groggy than I was. I took him to school anyway, came home and tried to settle into the workday. Sometimes I need to set myself little goals--twenty emails answered before coffee, one chapter read and then a little outside time with the dog, and I was working in that mode, but not productively. I couldn't get my brain moving. An hour later, the phone rang. I knew before I even picked it up that it was Rory calling from school to come pick him up. I brought him home, settled him in, made him a snack--and suddenly it was noon and I'd gotten nothing done and worse, felt like I wasn't going to. So I took the day as a personal day. And then suddenly it was 5:30. I didn't nap, I didn't think, I didn't write, I did nothing, either productive or unproductive. The day just...disappeared. Well, I read some blogs. Woo-hoo.
I read some of the Palin-Gibson interview and this line struck me as interesting:
Palin: …It kind of cracked me up seeing the list of books that I supposedly banned&one of them was ‘Harry Potter!’ It wasn’t even written or published then.
I did see the list of banned books and quoted it with some doubt in conversation. The list I saw claimed that it was from meeting minutes of the Wasila Library and gave a phone number to call for verification. I wasn't about to call, of course--what a pain for that person to have their number spread on the 'net!--but the thing that struck me as interesting about Palin's statement was her recognition that there was a specific incident pre-1998 that was relevant. Palin was mayor of Wasila until 2002, as I understand it, and Harry Potter certainly was published in that timeframe. So she's conceding that she tried to ban books in 1995? She also claims that it was just a conversation, but the whole idea that the first thing she did as mayor was explore the limits of her power scares me. What would she do as President? What are the limits of presidential power these days, anyway?
Time to go save the cooking parsnips.
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