Shawl

Thursday evening we got a call as we ate dinner. Friends in the neighborhood, can they stop by? Of course!

On a sort of date night, kids cared for by her brother, they settled down and we chatted. It's been a very long time, but the comfort still there. We express our frustration at the insanity of our world. We talk houses and cats, as Eleanor warily approaches and retreats and re-approaches, until she's standing on both of them, kneading and being petted. We laugh and relax and simply enjoy each other's company.

The game people came by last evening, and it ran late, to the approval of K, who needed to work at midnight, and didn't really want to drive back home first. So, we talked and dithered up to 2300. Eleanor had more socializing. And K found my wool shawl* I'd gotten in Saudi long ago. It's delightful when people notice and love the stuff I most love, unprompted, on their own. Like a stranger whose favorite book is one you love as well, and they are intelligent and funny - so their opinion is worthwhile.

Seems a good time to find attachments and throw nets to each other, draw in and warm up.

Looking through posts from ten years ago, found this wonderful story from Language Log.

OPA!
I'm in New York for the American Philosophical Association's Eastern Division meetings, and I'm having breakfast at the Art Cafe on Broadway, at 52nd Street. It's all bustling efficiency, staff zooming hither and thither. Two eggs up with bacon and wheat toast arrive within a couple of minutes. Suddenly there's a shattering crash from behind the counter, and the Greek proprietor is looking down mournfully at the coffee cup he dropped on the tile floor to smash into a thousand pieces. Four or five nearby waitresses turn in shock. For two seconds of silence they stare at the scene of the accident. And then one of the waitresses yells excitedly: "Opa!" — the traditional Greek cry of encouragement to dancers and musicians and drinkers at those wild parties where they smash plates on the floor as they dance just to show what a great time is being had. And then the entire staff cracks up, and they all resume working at high speed, but now laughing till tears come to their eyes — the boss included. It's only breakfast time in New York, but already, thanks to one well-chosen interjection, it's like a party.

Posted by Geoffrey K. Pullum at December 30, 2005 11:06 PM

A favorite photo of Dylan.



A much younger Moby.



From four years ago. Under the *wool shawl.

Annihilate

Do you know about Lindy Boggs? And the ECOA? Which let women have credit, without a man's approval, in 1974?

I remember. Even as a small child, it shocked me that my financially responsible, thrifty, mother, would not have been able to get her own credit card. Yet. That was how it was. In my lifetime.

We need, NEED and ERA. Now more than ever.

The only thing drawing me forward is that the current situation is reviving feminism. And grassroots Democracy. We are arming ourselves and resisting.

Gather round, my sisters and brothers, it's time to foment rebellion. Sharpen our wits and fill our molotov cocktails. We've fought this battle before, we know the land, we will annihilate* the bigoted idiots. We will grow from the seed, and overwhelm the authoritarian overlords. We will destroy them.

Getting a run up to this year, to whack it on the nose with a bludgeon. Or a mace.

*harder to spell that decimate, but what is really meant.

Camouflauged

Call in to the architect, they will do drawing and specs, deal with city permits. Second step. First being to have the funds in hand, or in credit union to be precise. Moving along. Shifting storage in the basement to the opposite corner. Clearing the back room as well, one bin at a time. Most of it will return, once we have up organizing structures, and the back porch has become the utility half bath. But for now, it's going down.

There is a particular sound to the snow falling off the solar panels. I can confirm, since we can track electricity production. Sun out and doing what it does today, clearing snow from hard surfaces, although the stuff in piles and on grass, will last a lot longer, seeping into the garden.



Sleeping cat, camouflauged.

Print

We killed our old printer. Not on purpose, but the back room got colder than it could handle, which we did not anticipate properly. So, off to the Office Supply Shop. While there, I picked this up off the clearance rack. Put it on the counter with the printer box, but it got missed. The cashier just said "take it." Dylan demurred, enough times to be sure and polite, when I stopped him, thanked the cashier, and we left with it. Dylan not sure, but I am the last person to accept gifts easily, and even I could see this was a moment of Don't give a shit, let me be generous. One less thing to mark down, again. Not worth ringing through alone. And, at his discretion, an acceptable corporate 'loss'. I will enjoy it in the spirit it was given. It has pages of buttons, and teacups, and leaves.



The snow, and the view out the front door window, as per. More on the porch than usual.



My arms are aching badly from the shoveling, so worn out from the physical activity. Dragged myself along all day. Resting this evening. Starting to get the back porch project moving, since we now have the funds, and - in an account at the credit union, opened for the purpose.

Lights

Feast of lights.

Scrumble

Happy Boxing Day! And I have it off work! And the sun is shining like mad.

Best box here. Fish box.


Still woke up at the usual time. Had cats at my feet on the heating pad on the stool. They took turns, with only one forced eviction. I stayed out of it.

And later...



"He's got most of it, but I ain't leaving!"

Found her later with toy mouse on a string, the string wrapped around her, mouse dangling, she confused since mice don't usually have tails quite that long. Dylan untangled her shortly after. I've been known to intentionally tie up the odd cat with a string or ribbon, but she did this all by her lonesome.


At 0800, I wrapped up, and took the power shovel out to the back drive/park/turnaround area. Got about half done, when neurosurgery resident neighbor came out with his small shovel. I offered the power shovel to him, since I was getting very tired. Well, let the young athletic man do the heavy lifting, right? He made short work of it, which I knew he would, and I managed the electrical cord. A bit of sun, even if it's still cold, and that should clear pretty well. At least no one's car is getting stuck back there. I keep thinking of the massive snow from our second winter here, with only low-tech shovels.

Still have to dig out where the plows left a ridge at the street, but that's relatively minor job. Eight inches officially, we got at least that much, with drifts. I'm tired, wearing my thumb brace, otherwise fine. Luxuriating in my day off. Tidying up from yesterday in half hearted spurts. Whatever, I'll have Wednesday off, too. Just have to remember to actually go to work tomorrow, not just wake up at the right time.


My hero!



Eleanor approves of the throws Dylan's mom and dad gave us.

Corollary

Got up at my usual time for work. Not very dark, meaning - snow. Figured if I got out and shoveled, I'd feel better, so I snagged clothes, not caring if socks matched, slid into boots and coat, mittens and hat. There was enough snow for the power shovel, but at 0600 on Christmas morning, it seemed a bit... loud. So I stuck with the low-tech one, and cleared the 4-6" accumulated. Took it past both next door neighbor's houses. Tired, a bit sore, but in a much better mood, I stripped off the wet pants and made tea. Dylan was stirring by then, unaware I'd even been out. He'd been woken up by Moby standing on him, purring loudly in his ear, much earlier, after putting out food, managed to get back to a deep sleep.



We both went out, with power shovel, and cleared the parking space and all the sidewalks, part of the driveway, about 0930. Still snowing, but cleared and salted areas collected very little new, actually melting by noon. Eight inches, but not very wet snow, just the bottom inch or so. Otherwise, pretty fluffy.

Dylan's parents, brother and wife with two nephews arrived for lunch. Dylan cooked enchiladas of great flavor. Youngest, baby nephew, for some reason attached himself to me. I rather like holding babies, so this was fine, if somewhat unexpected. Dylan a bit stressed doing all the final food preparation. Older nephew, not quite 3, running around, chasing cats, but SIL watching, and I wasn't concerned. He focused on the christmas tree, handling the ornaments with such gentleness. Wonderful to see the old ornaments appreciated. Cats not much bothered, although Moby decided to retire to the bedroom, and Eleanor stayed on the stool in the music room, with occasional forays to meet and greet. Nephew managed to feed her a few treats, which was fun to watch. He also enjoyed the toy cars I have in the toybox (drawer, to be precise), and the tiny toy train I got for $1 after Easter*.

Dylan's dad got the red comfy chair, and I gave him a footstool. His mom held babynephew. Everyone seemed comfortable and enjoyed themselves. Older nephew objected to leaving, which I took as a high compliment. Dylan's dad calling me "wonderful" (maybe because of marinated artichoke hearts for him) was nice as well.

We've been lighting a menorah, not saying the prayers, but hoping for light. Or reason and compassion. I checked with my boss, who is Jewish, how bad the cultural appropriation would be, and she assured me she would not be offended, so we made one. Bit of wood, drilled holes, already had the candles. I certainly do this with respect.


And an oil lamp, too. DIY Diya. Next year, even more ecumenical. No, that's not right, since that's only christiana. Multicultural seems weak sauce. Suggestions? Inclusive, yes, of course. Funny, those of us who live in mixed societies are comfortable with that, and those who've never dealt with different cultures get very upset about it. Really, it's fine. Good for the soul.

Multifaith?



Well, start there.

I like to think we make people welcome here, a kind of home grown comfort, a minimum of fuss. When nephew upset a tray table, but nothing broke, no one yelled. I shrug, even if something had broken, or needing cleaning up, so what? We break things, we make messes, the next step is to clean up, not blame or shout. Especially not at small children.

Dylan thanked me for wanting a house where we could have guests, and they'd feel at ease. I didn't plan this, or imagine this. Came as a wonderful surprize, that people would love coming here and how much we would enjoy having them feel welcome. I had no idea. Corollaries to Home.


We are planning a New Year's Day (or day after) potluck for the comic guys.




*First seen here.

Nene

Weeeeeeee....



Fish

Ewe



A mare



Egrets



Moose




Panda



Hippo



Gnu



Deer!




(After Sandra Boynton.)

And mare nene hippo re-terns.

(for mare and hippo, see above.)





Maru and Hana in boxes!

Menorah

Lovely Leslye, our real estate agent who got us House, still sends us B-day and holiday cards. This year, a moose. And what a Moose! My favorite 'card' (if i can even give such a fabulous thing such a mundane word) ever, now it shall hang out with the straw angel.

LED strands of lights on Tree, which suits it well. Battery lit, no dangling cords, just the controls which rather vanish. Grey and rainy, snowing in mountains and on open highways. May get snow down here tonight, may just be rain.

Dylan figured out how to make a quick menorah, drill holes in a bit of wood. Worked perfectly. Next year, I'll find a real one, but this will be good for this year. Now just need a diya. Covering all symbolic lighting I can manage. Celebrating all the holidays.

Sol

Happy Solstice!

Stopped by the hardware store, met with disappointment that my hair was plain grey. I apologized, and promised it would be multicolored by this afternoon. Getting past my grief at my nation taking a turn to the side of evil. Never giving up the fight, just the acute anguish.

Went to start dying, and I was really low on Manic Panic, so I headed out to get a fresh pot. The usual colors. Momentarily I wondered about red and green, but they aren't really my colors.

Grey and foggy day, not cold, just damp and dim. Resting up for the rest of the week. Very glad not to be there today. It's been a full month, everyone's tired, many are ill. The HRT is making a huge difference for me. I really tried to ride it out, but I'm so glad I gave in and am taking drugs. Sleeping well is essential for my mental health. Getting the odd hot flash, but they're not taking over my every moment and soaking me every damn night. Very grateful to Susan from work for nudging me to do it. Enormous difference in my ability to cope.



I have to admit, I cleaned up some of the red blotches on my face in the photo. A flash of vanity.


Last night, everyone was cleaning up rooms, or helping in sterile processing, if they weren't running a room. Finished my room first, then gave breaks, wrapped about 30 light handles, filled suction filters, cleaned up three rooms. Everyone done or finishing before I left. So many sick calls lately, everyone worn and tired, little respite. But we are keeping each other going. Getting through.

Gnu

-A lot of people comparing Trunp's* rise to that of Hitler's, but I think it's also interesting to note comparisons to Warren G. Harding.

-Yes, enough w/these invidious comparisons to a man who wrote his own books & served in the armed forces.

A twitter exchange that makes me feel just a bit more hopeful.



Even more so this from Sandra Boynton. Hippo gnu deer!

Everyone at work tired out, but continuing to pitch in and get stuff done. Perhaps just knowing we'll all have an extra day off, two weeks in a row.

Our new, first day today, RN has experience, latched on to me to start her orientation. After a while, we just chatted a bit, and she mentions growing up in Michigan. Where in Michigan? Detroit. Where in Detroit? Well, not the same area, but a similar enough working class suburb. She's just 4 months older than me, so we've walked the same streets. She has clearer memories of the '67 riots, since they occurred in her area, but I have recollections of the aftermath. Odd echoes, I think I'll like her.

Have to clean and shop tomorrow.



*I'm sticking with that mistype.

Healing

There are a lot of good ways of healing well. Some are not in our control, like our innate immune systems, blind luck, and random chance.

But a lot is changeable. Like not fuckingsmoking. Keeping the vulnerable area clean. Taking all our antibiotics (if applicable) on schedule and in full. Following care instructions. Doing all the physical therapy. Ice, elevation, rest, compression. Not doing too much. Listening to the pain. Not using meth. Getting decent nutrition. Paying attention.

Bananananana

This bit of oddness from Shorpy, so I don't have that little red horror staring at us from the top of the page.

Elf

A lot of the women I work with have young children. I keep my trap shut, since what do I know about living with the little rugrats? But it bothers me, the manipulative and dismissive attitudes they seem to hold for their own kids. Recently, it's all about the elf on the shelf, which looks like this.



Ugh. Horrible. Isn't that was Santa is supposed to be for? Santa Claus was my All-seeing inspector during Advent, keeping me in line. Using outright bribery, which is honest, in a way. Not these creepy buggers.

I wouldn't so much mind these, via Lucy.



These guys might be known to occasionally wink at a bit of naughtiness, maybe even protect a small child from the odd nightmare or underbed monster.

Like having these guys on your side.



Which I suspect is the real role of Krampus.

Not the one on the parents' side, keeping the child down.



But the embodied, identified fear, that can be brought in to protect against the real monsters. And is really your uncle or neighbor in a costume.




Because I think we all need to look hard at who is protecting us, who smiles and lies to us, who we should trust. Knowing when to be good, and when that means standing one's ground, or fighting back.

Goats

All I Want for Christmas is a Goat, which is to say a 'singing' goat, O,Holy Night in particular. Something about that just circumvents all other parts of my brain, and pushes the "laugh helplessly" button, over and over and over.




We took Car in this morning to the usual place, who were... well, not unkind, but ultimately unhelpful. So, we took it around the corner to a place that we hoped could do the full diagnostics and repair. Well, turns out, they could. So we had them do the oil change, and a few other repairs that turned out needful as well. Air filter and coolant, a brake light was out. As well as the main issue of the check engine light, a sensor on the gas mix computer-whatsit. Hey, it made perfect sense when he described it.

We caught a bus home. A half dozen loud women with one very loud child each waiting for the same bus, running late. Never got above 20˚F, -7C, all day. With wind. Several blocks to walk after the bus, so we cut through Trolley Square, to warm up a bit. There was a craft fair going on that I'd wanted to attend, but had completely forgotten about. Walked by all the booths, when the fire alarm went off. We laughed and walked the rest of the way home. Vowing to take a cab back when Car was through.
Hunkered down to have lunch and watch QI and Taskmaster.

Cabbie that took us drove like he was a Boston driver, which was both frightening and reassuring. Much cheaper than we expected, so he good a good yuletide tip.

Turned out to be not as late as expected. A big chunk of bill, but not as bad as we'd braced ourselves for, we've been budgeting for car repairs for a while. Car has really not been very needy over the years, so that's fine. She is running noticeably better. I'd hoped to put this off just one more week, no dice.

Stopped at the Southeast Market (formerly the Southeast Asian Market, but by now everyone knows to look there for what they need) and finally picked up a mortar and pestle. It really wasn't expensive, I can't think why I've never gotten one before. Decades before. Still, better now than even later.



Dylan got some lighter long johns, I got some winter socks. We are all ready for the solstice.

Not great photos, thrown up quickly as they were taken. Keep procrastinating, so better than just putting off even more. At least the cold had mostly abated. And I'll have a bit of time off over the next two weeks. Holidays.