Whew. This year is about over! Here's to a great 2011 for everyone.
As the old year departs, I have strep throat so I am not feeling well. Hopefully the new year, that is, tomorrow, will have me feeling better.
Please see yesterday's post for 13 things I accomplished in 2010.
Anyway, Happy New Year's Eve, all!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Thursday Thirteen
Today, it's a look back at 2010. This was a rather horrible year for us but I am going to look for good things. Read slowly because it will take me a while to put this together!
1. I learned how to use my Panasonic video camera and how to make movies with it. I found this a fascinating process and a very cool creative outlet for me, at least for a while.
2. I read at least 49 books (I might have missed one or two on my list). This is actually a low number for me but I consider it a high number given that I have had an amazing amount of problems with my eyes and have gone through four different prescription changes in the last year in an effort to see better. I have discovered I don't read as much when I can't see to do it. The last prescription change occurred this week. Let's hope it helps.
3. In January, I took on book editing and that is something I really enjoy doing but don't do enough of. It is good to learn what you like to do. Maybe in 2011 I can find a way to do more of that.
4. The Roanoke Writer's Conference, also held in January, offered me a small balm for my soul. I like writer's conferences because they energize me, force me to think in new ways, and force me out of my shell for a little while.
5. I started walking around the track at Greenfield with a walking buddy, Dreama, and we became a little closer. I like to make new friends and have interesting people in my life, and Dreama is definitely interesting. She is an artist, creating whimsical and eclectic artwork that makes you smile and think all at the same time. I enjoy being around creative and brilliant people.
6. My friend B. has extended her helping hands to me many times in the past six months and I have been extremely grateful for her calm ability to listen to me bitch and whine. Thank goodness for friends. I don't know what I would do without them.
7. My blood pressure, once skyrocketing to stroke levels, is now under control thanks to a combination of medication, yoga breathing exercises, and Tai Chi.
8. An issue with identity theft, though upsetting and distressing (I will have to write about that in more detail sometime), ended without much damage. I was extremely lucky and fortunate to have caught the theft as quickly as I did.
9. I attended a Life Planning seminar at Hollins University for six weeks in the spring. While I can't say that it helped me with my life plans, it was great to be back on campus, to be around women who were interesting and engaging, and to spend time thinking about my life, my goals, and my direction, even if I never reached resolution.
10. I threw away 18 things. I was going for 50 after reading a book called Throw Out 50 Things but I am still trying to reach that number nine months later. The things I threw out included clothing, food, computer manuals, pillows, a pile of plastic grocery bags, cards, two printers, DVDs and VHS tapes, 10,000 photos from my hard drive, wallpaper, spices from my spice rack, 10 pairs of eyeglasses, and old medication. So it was really a lot of items but in groups and I am not too unhappy with the progress. For example, the clothing consisted of over 50 different items and there must have been 35 old computer software manuals in the pile I sent to the recycling bins. I still have a lot of clutter, though.
11. I don't really want to look back at my work because I know it was nowhere near what I am capable of, but to review, I edited a book and several newsletters, wrote just over 50 keyword articles for various clients, sold five book reviews, sold 25 articles to newspapers (down from over 300 in 2008, what a drop), and I worked on a local political campaign. I also kept up this blog, writing in it almost every day, as well as the news blog on Botetourt County that I post to daily. I also started sifting through bins of old photographs with a project in mind that I hope I can talk about more in the new year.
12. We replaced the windows in the house. This was a big and expensive deal for us and while the replacement took only a day, getting quotes and prices and deciding on the product and the vendor took up quite a lot of time. This is not something one does lightly.
13. I removed the wallpaper from the kitchen and repainted. We also removed and replaced the back door. Both of these projects were time consuming and the wallpaper and repainting project left me with a bad arm from lateral epicondylitis, or a tear in my tendons in my right arm near my elbow. I am still having lots of problems from this but at least the kitchen is painted.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 171th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
1. I learned how to use my Panasonic video camera and how to make movies with it. I found this a fascinating process and a very cool creative outlet for me, at least for a while.
2. I read at least 49 books (I might have missed one or two on my list). This is actually a low number for me but I consider it a high number given that I have had an amazing amount of problems with my eyes and have gone through four different prescription changes in the last year in an effort to see better. I have discovered I don't read as much when I can't see to do it. The last prescription change occurred this week. Let's hope it helps.
3. In January, I took on book editing and that is something I really enjoy doing but don't do enough of. It is good to learn what you like to do. Maybe in 2011 I can find a way to do more of that.
4. The Roanoke Writer's Conference, also held in January, offered me a small balm for my soul. I like writer's conferences because they energize me, force me to think in new ways, and force me out of my shell for a little while.
5. I started walking around the track at Greenfield with a walking buddy, Dreama, and we became a little closer. I like to make new friends and have interesting people in my life, and Dreama is definitely interesting. She is an artist, creating whimsical and eclectic artwork that makes you smile and think all at the same time. I enjoy being around creative and brilliant people.
6. My friend B. has extended her helping hands to me many times in the past six months and I have been extremely grateful for her calm ability to listen to me bitch and whine. Thank goodness for friends. I don't know what I would do without them.
7. My blood pressure, once skyrocketing to stroke levels, is now under control thanks to a combination of medication, yoga breathing exercises, and Tai Chi.
8. An issue with identity theft, though upsetting and distressing (I will have to write about that in more detail sometime), ended without much damage. I was extremely lucky and fortunate to have caught the theft as quickly as I did.
9. I attended a Life Planning seminar at Hollins University for six weeks in the spring. While I can't say that it helped me with my life plans, it was great to be back on campus, to be around women who were interesting and engaging, and to spend time thinking about my life, my goals, and my direction, even if I never reached resolution.
10. I threw away 18 things. I was going for 50 after reading a book called Throw Out 50 Things but I am still trying to reach that number nine months later. The things I threw out included clothing, food, computer manuals, pillows, a pile of plastic grocery bags, cards, two printers, DVDs and VHS tapes, 10,000 photos from my hard drive, wallpaper, spices from my spice rack, 10 pairs of eyeglasses, and old medication. So it was really a lot of items but in groups and I am not too unhappy with the progress. For example, the clothing consisted of over 50 different items and there must have been 35 old computer software manuals in the pile I sent to the recycling bins. I still have a lot of clutter, though.
11. I don't really want to look back at my work because I know it was nowhere near what I am capable of, but to review, I edited a book and several newsletters, wrote just over 50 keyword articles for various clients, sold five book reviews, sold 25 articles to newspapers (down from over 300 in 2008, what a drop), and I worked on a local political campaign. I also kept up this blog, writing in it almost every day, as well as the news blog on Botetourt County that I post to daily. I also started sifting through bins of old photographs with a project in mind that I hope I can talk about more in the new year.
12. We replaced the windows in the house. This was a big and expensive deal for us and while the replacement took only a day, getting quotes and prices and deciding on the product and the vendor took up quite a lot of time. This is not something one does lightly.
13. I removed the wallpaper from the kitchen and repainted. We also removed and replaced the back door. Both of these projects were time consuming and the wallpaper and repainting project left me with a bad arm from lateral epicondylitis, or a tear in my tendons in my right arm near my elbow. I am still having lots of problems from this but at least the kitchen is painted.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 171th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Pear Cake
One of the items I baked over the holidays that I wanted to share was a pear cake made with fresh pears. My brother sent me a box of pears for the holidays and I couldn't eat them all so I went in search of a recipe I could use them in.
The cake was very good and the taste of pears made this unique. It was a hit at a my Christmas Eve gathering.
Pear Cake
Ingredients
4 cups fresh pears (peeled, cored and chopped)
1 1/2 to 2 cups white sugar (depending on taste; I used the lower amount and would probably add more next time)
3 cups self-rising flour
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
4 egg whites
2/3 cup oil (I used Smart Balance)
1 cup chopped pecans
Directions
1.Combine the pears and the sugar and let stand for one hour (I let it stand for over two hours).
2.Preheat oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Spray a 10 inch bundt pan with non-stick cooking spray.
3.Slightly beat the egg whites and combine them with the oil, chopped pecans and pear mixture.
4.Stir the flour, salt, baking soda, nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves. Stir in the pear mixture. Pour batter into the prepared bundt pan.
5.Bake at 325 degrees F (165 degrees C) for 1 hour and 10 minutes. Remove from oven; cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes before removing from pan.
I added a glaze to the cake, which the recipe did not call for but which I think added to it:
Glaze
Ingredients
1/3 cup margarine or butter (I used butter)
2 cups powdered sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
2 to 4 tablespoons hot water
Directions
Heat margarine/butter in saucepan until melted. Stir in powdered sugar and vanilla. Stir in water a little at a time until mixture is desired consistency. Pour over cake.
The cake was very good and the taste of pears made this unique. It was a hit at a my Christmas Eve gathering.
Pear Cake
Ingredients
4 cups fresh pears (peeled, cored and chopped)
1 1/2 to 2 cups white sugar (depending on taste; I used the lower amount and would probably add more next time)
3 cups self-rising flour
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
4 egg whites
2/3 cup oil (I used Smart Balance)
1 cup chopped pecans
Directions
1.Combine the pears and the sugar and let stand for one hour (I let it stand for over two hours).
2.Preheat oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Spray a 10 inch bundt pan with non-stick cooking spray.
3.Slightly beat the egg whites and combine them with the oil, chopped pecans and pear mixture.
4.Stir the flour, salt, baking soda, nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves. Stir in the pear mixture. Pour batter into the prepared bundt pan.
5.Bake at 325 degrees F (165 degrees C) for 1 hour and 10 minutes. Remove from oven; cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes before removing from pan.
I added a glaze to the cake, which the recipe did not call for but which I think added to it:
Glaze
Ingredients
1/3 cup margarine or butter (I used butter)
2 cups powdered sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
2 to 4 tablespoons hot water
Directions
Heat margarine/butter in saucepan until melted. Stir in powdered sugar and vanilla. Stir in water a little at a time until mixture is desired consistency. Pour over cake.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Family at Christmas
Christmas is about seeing folks you love and care about, and I had a houseful over the holiday. Here are some of my family members:
Cousin Matt (right) and his wife, Gina.
My aunt, Sherri (left) and my uncle, Jerry. They were visiting from Texas.
My cousin, Sara, and Nicole, both also in from Texas.
My first cousin once-removed, Madison (left) (daughter of Matt & Gina) and my first cousin once-removed, Jonathan, who is Jerry & Sherri's grandson. She is four and he is three. Guess which one was the wild child and which one was quiet and lady-like?
Matt with his daughter, Madison.
My nephew, Trey, my brother's son. He is a big wrestler at JRHS.
Zoe, my niece and my brother's daughter. She is nine years old.
My sister-in-law, Dina, caught by surprise with the camera. Sorry, sis!
My brother, Loren.
My nephew, Chris, and his mother, Jennifer (my sister-in-law). Chris is 16.
My nephew Emory, big man on campus at University of South Carolina. Until I saw this photo I did not realize how much he looks like his father.
My husband, being silly.
Aunt Nancy on the husband's side, in from Georgia.
My mother-in-law, my aunt, Carolyn, and my brother-in-law, Gary, are not pictured; I somehow managed not to take usable photos of them this year. I serious doubt they mind.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Thursday Thirteen #170
Today, I offer up 13 Christmas memories . . .
1. The first Christmas I spent with my husband, in 1982. We'd just met in October, but I knew right away that he was the one I would marry. I gave him a leather sweater jacket and he gave me cowboy boots (they were all the rage back then).
2. Rock-em Sock-em robots. I am not sure of the year but I remember being fascinated by these things; using an avatar to punch and beat up my brother was way better than the real thing (and hurt less, too!).
3. A black Epiphone guitar. I was 14 when my parents gave me this lovely beauty, an electric guitar that looked and played much like a Les Paul. It was a pretty little thing, shiny and small. I still have it.
4. A golden diamond heart on a whisper-thin chain, given to me two years ago by my wonderful husband, along with loving words and intense kisses.
5. The year my aunt made fudge just for me, maybe when I was 10?
6. My mother literally jumping up in the air when she saw the grandmother clock my father had bought for her.
7. The look on my husband's face the year I bought him a .270 rifle for deer hunting. He calls it his good luck gun and it is still the one he hunts with.
8. A cowboy ventriloquist doll that I simply had to have in 1975. It was the one thing on my wish list because I was sure I would grow up to be a ventriloquist. I did not.
9. Blue snow toboggans, one for my brother and one for me. These solid plastic sleds were lightning fast and we spent hours trudging up the hills only to zip back down in nanoseconds. They also made good floats in the summer when we played in the creek.
10. A set of luggage. This gift from my parents was a sure sign I was growing up. It went with me to Europe and on numerous trips to the beach before I finally stopped using it.
11. A children's Bible from my aunt. I read the book from cover to cover and it is how I learned most of the Bible stories. Unfortunately, the dog chewed it up a few years later or I would still have it.
12. A myriad of Christmases trudging to Grandmas house in Salem. Opening the door to see her waiting, with the house smelling of delectable foods for dinner, and my young uncles running around excitedly trying to show us all of their presents at once, and the tree glistening in welcome.
13. The comfortable routines my husband and I have established for the holiday; my family and our friends over on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day spent with his family, our own quiet Christmas early on Christmas Day morning when we exchange presents with one another. Time spent with loved ones is the best present of all.
May the day be blessed for each of you, dear reader, and I hope that your heart is full of love and your bounty good and gracious. Peace to you all.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 170th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
1. The first Christmas I spent with my husband, in 1982. We'd just met in October, but I knew right away that he was the one I would marry. I gave him a leather sweater jacket and he gave me cowboy boots (they were all the rage back then).
2. Rock-em Sock-em robots. I am not sure of the year but I remember being fascinated by these things; using an avatar to punch and beat up my brother was way better than the real thing (and hurt less, too!).
3. A black Epiphone guitar. I was 14 when my parents gave me this lovely beauty, an electric guitar that looked and played much like a Les Paul. It was a pretty little thing, shiny and small. I still have it.
4. A golden diamond heart on a whisper-thin chain, given to me two years ago by my wonderful husband, along with loving words and intense kisses.
5. The year my aunt made fudge just for me, maybe when I was 10?
6. My mother literally jumping up in the air when she saw the grandmother clock my father had bought for her.
7. The look on my husband's face the year I bought him a .270 rifle for deer hunting. He calls it his good luck gun and it is still the one he hunts with.
8. A cowboy ventriloquist doll that I simply had to have in 1975. It was the one thing on my wish list because I was sure I would grow up to be a ventriloquist. I did not.
9. Blue snow toboggans, one for my brother and one for me. These solid plastic sleds were lightning fast and we spent hours trudging up the hills only to zip back down in nanoseconds. They also made good floats in the summer when we played in the creek.
10. A set of luggage. This gift from my parents was a sure sign I was growing up. It went with me to Europe and on numerous trips to the beach before I finally stopped using it.
11. A children's Bible from my aunt. I read the book from cover to cover and it is how I learned most of the Bible stories. Unfortunately, the dog chewed it up a few years later or I would still have it.
12. A myriad of Christmases trudging to Grandmas house in Salem. Opening the door to see her waiting, with the house smelling of delectable foods for dinner, and my young uncles running around excitedly trying to show us all of their presents at once, and the tree glistening in welcome.
13. The comfortable routines my husband and I have established for the holiday; my family and our friends over on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day spent with his family, our own quiet Christmas early on Christmas Day morning when we exchange presents with one another. Time spent with loved ones is the best present of all.
May the day be blessed for each of you, dear reader, and I hope that your heart is full of love and your bounty good and gracious. Peace to you all.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 170th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
The Wedding Gown
My wedding gown was a soft ivory color, with beaded work and lace around the neckline. I bought it from a place in the French Quarter at Tanglewood Mall (that whole area no longer exists), obtaining the whole get-up for less than $300 because the dress was torn. Fortunately, it was torn in a place where I needed it taken in and so it looked good as new.
After the wedding, my mother had the dress cleaned and then she stored it in a cedar wardrobe at her house. In 1989, lightning struck the roof of her home and fire destroyed a good portion of her house.
My wedding dress was not destroyed, but it was severely scorched and smelled of smoke. My mother had it cleaned and gave it to me. It still smelled terribly of smoke and so I asked my mother-in-law to store it in her basement, as I had no place to keep it.
Fast forward 20 years. My mother-in-law the other day was cleaning out her basement and so my husband brought home my wedding gown wadded up in a bag. I have no idea what happened to the hat; maybe it burned up in the fire, I don't recall.
Yesterday I noticed the bag with the gown in and it and pulled the garment out. It is no longer ivory but instead is a muddy brownish color, a result, I suspect, of the cleaning used to try to remove the smoke. The lace is shriveled from where it melted in the fire.
I had thought to take pictures of it but it looked so bad that I did not want to make a visual memorial of it. Instead I stuffed it back into the bag, noting that it still smells of smoke despite the cleaning and the passing of many years.
It is destroyed.
It is time to send this to the dump, but somehow I can't bring myself to do that.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Classical Guitar
Last night we ventured out with the husband's mother and his aunt for a meal of Chinese at CL Asia and then an hour of classical guitar music at St. Mark's United Methodist Church in Daleville.
The food was terrific as always, although my mother-in-law and aunt did not enjoy it. This was my mother-in-law's second time ever to enter a Chinese restaurant and apparently it was Aunt Nancy's first. Both claimed not to like Chinese food, although I do not understand how you can dislike something you have never even tried. My mother-in-law ate sweet and sour shrimp, which she had the last time and found palatable (we had sampled several dishes dishes that first trip). Aunt Nancy would not try anything except fried rice. Ah well.
The guitarist was Rafael Scarfullery (you will hear his music on the website if you click the link), who is a classical guitarist, composer, and conductor. He currently teaches at Sweet Briar College and is music director at Aldersgate UMC in Charlottesville.
For our concert, he played a total of seven Christmas carols, including Away in A Manager, O Holy Night (one of my favorite Christmas songs), and Silent Night. The audience of less than 50 people sang along on the last song.
He also entertained us with pieces by Heitor Villa-Lobos and Antonio Lauro, neither of whom were familiar to me but were interesting to listen to and watch as performances. One of the pieces by Villa-Lobos, I believe it was Prelude No. 1 but am not positive, sounded a little disturbing to me but it was an excellent piece nevertheless.
I am amazed at the talented people who surround us and we are unaware of it. People everywhere go about their desperate lives, seeking whatever they think will bring them fulfillment (and likely never reaching it), and some of these folks have amazing talent that is never fully acknowledged or appreciated. We do ourselves a disservice as a society when we fail to nurture people, in whatever way, and we do that quite regularly, I fear.
These were some thoughts that crossed my mind as I listened to this man play his songs. I am not quite sure why; sometimes music brings things into my brain. Occasionally it brings tears to my eyes or makes my stomach tense up.
The food was terrific as always, although my mother-in-law and aunt did not enjoy it. This was my mother-in-law's second time ever to enter a Chinese restaurant and apparently it was Aunt Nancy's first. Both claimed not to like Chinese food, although I do not understand how you can dislike something you have never even tried. My mother-in-law ate sweet and sour shrimp, which she had the last time and found palatable (we had sampled several dishes dishes that first trip). Aunt Nancy would not try anything except fried rice. Ah well.
The guitarist was Rafael Scarfullery (you will hear his music on the website if you click the link), who is a classical guitarist, composer, and conductor. He currently teaches at Sweet Briar College and is music director at Aldersgate UMC in Charlottesville.
For our concert, he played a total of seven Christmas carols, including Away in A Manager, O Holy Night (one of my favorite Christmas songs), and Silent Night. The audience of less than 50 people sang along on the last song.
He also entertained us with pieces by Heitor Villa-Lobos and Antonio Lauro, neither of whom were familiar to me but were interesting to listen to and watch as performances. One of the pieces by Villa-Lobos, I believe it was Prelude No. 1 but am not positive, sounded a little disturbing to me but it was an excellent piece nevertheless.
I am amazed at the talented people who surround us and we are unaware of it. People everywhere go about their desperate lives, seeking whatever they think will bring them fulfillment (and likely never reaching it), and some of these folks have amazing talent that is never fully acknowledged or appreciated. We do ourselves a disservice as a society when we fail to nurture people, in whatever way, and we do that quite regularly, I fear.
These were some thoughts that crossed my mind as I listened to this man play his songs. I am not quite sure why; sometimes music brings things into my brain. Occasionally it brings tears to my eyes or makes my stomach tense up.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Thursday Thirteen
I am rather anxious for 2010 to be over as it has not been the best of years. The death of my father-in-law, job concerns and other issues have left me feeling as ragged as a beat up ol' doll tossed out in the trash by the evil stepsister on a Saturday night.
So I thought I'd see if I could find 13 things to do for the New Year that would bring about good luck. Here are some superstitions I thought I'd pass along.
1. Wearing something new on New Year's Day means you'll receive new clothing throughout the year.
2. Eating black eyed peas will bring about good luck and good fortune. Other foods that bring good luck are lentils, pork, and sauerkraut.
3. Kiss at midnight to ensure affections and good will from those you love.
4. Have a full pantry so that it will not be bare for the upcoming year.
5. Put plenty of money in your wallet so it will multiply throughout the year.
6. Pay off bills and debts before New Years Day so that they don't follow you into the new year and bring about more bills and debts.
7. The first person to enter the household should be male (preferably tall, dark and handsome) and should come bearing a small gift. Even if he is a resident, he should knock on the door to be let inside, and he should leave by a different door than the one through which he entered.
8. Absolutely nothing, not even garbage, should leave the house on New Year's Day.
9. Do not do laundry on New Year's Day.
10. At midnight, open all doors to let the old year go out unimpeded.
11. Make loud noises at midnight to scare away evil spirits.
12. Avoid breaking things on New Year's Day, otherwise you will be breaking things all year long.
13. Do not cry on New Year's Day or it will set the tone for the year.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 169th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
So I thought I'd see if I could find 13 things to do for the New Year that would bring about good luck. Here are some superstitions I thought I'd pass along.
1. Wearing something new on New Year's Day means you'll receive new clothing throughout the year.
2. Eating black eyed peas will bring about good luck and good fortune. Other foods that bring good luck are lentils, pork, and sauerkraut.
3. Kiss at midnight to ensure affections and good will from those you love.
4. Have a full pantry so that it will not be bare for the upcoming year.
5. Put plenty of money in your wallet so it will multiply throughout the year.
6. Pay off bills and debts before New Years Day so that they don't follow you into the new year and bring about more bills and debts.
7. The first person to enter the household should be male (preferably tall, dark and handsome) and should come bearing a small gift. Even if he is a resident, he should knock on the door to be let inside, and he should leave by a different door than the one through which he entered.
8. Absolutely nothing, not even garbage, should leave the house on New Year's Day.
9. Do not do laundry on New Year's Day.
10. At midnight, open all doors to let the old year go out unimpeded.
11. Make loud noises at midnight to scare away evil spirits.
12. Avoid breaking things on New Year's Day, otherwise you will be breaking things all year long.
13. Do not cry on New Year's Day or it will set the tone for the year.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 169th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Made to Sell (But Not to Use)
A number of items we've purchased in recent years have not exactly lived up to their hype.
So I'm going to complain.
Companies really don't care if the product they sell to you actually works, because they have your money. Their warranties are often worthless or so convoluted that most folks won't bother with them. Items are made to fall apart at day 92 when you have a 90-day warranty. Count on it.
Additionally, things are made in such a manner that they are not easily handled or easy to care for. And woe unto you if you are an older adult, or female (or both) because few things are made with you in mind.
Most things are made for males age 20-30. The rest of us be damned.
Some of the items that have frustrated me lately include:
Tools. These always irritate me because they are big, bulky, hard to start (women in general have poor upper body strength and trying to pull-start a mower is next to impossible) and generally not made with women's smaller hands and lesser strength in mind. Is it really so hard to make a decent weed eater that a woman can handle, one that actually cuts the grass and doesn't just whack at it? How about a good push cart that doesn't weigh a ton?
Clothing. My blouse fell apart the third time I washed it. Buttons fly off regularly because they are not sewn properly. Hems are crooked. Pockets are not sewn straight into pants. And these are expensive department store clothes, not the stuff off the rack at Walmart.
Humidifiers. I use three of them in the house and have problems with all three. The first one we paid hundreds for - it's a whole house steam humidifier. It worked just beyond its warranty and died a painful death. The company replaced it once, for free, but that one died a painful death as well. Obviously it's not a good product anymore (the very first one was, 23 years ago, but we could no longer obtain parts for it). I have a small steam humidifier that I use in the bedroom. The problem with it? It is cantankerous and will only run with distilled water (which gets expensive), and it is made so that it is difficult to fill. The tank on it is oddly shaped and it won't fit into the sink. The third humidifier is a cool evaporative humidifier and the tank on it leaks badly. It also is shaped weird and won't fit well into the sink, and it is hard to handle and heavy.
Eyeglasses. I am going back tomorrow for a fourth try at replacing a lens in less than a year. Enough said.
Why can't companies make products that last and that work without so much problem? Quality, not quantity, used to be the byword in business, but not anymore. Now companies want to take your money and run, and don't worry about customer service. Once it's out of their warehouse they don't care if you're satisfied or not.
Granted, locally there are a few places that deal with you like you're a human being. The eyeglass shop, for example, is going out of its way to try to fix the issue with my progressive lens, and I greatly appreciate their efforts (which is why I am not naming them). I like the service I receive from my local bank (not the national bank, though the local clerks are okay), my accountant, and the postmasters at the post offices I frequent. The people are the photocopy shop are nice even if I don't agree with them on a few issues.
But these large companies, the ones that are in Bambozzla, Alaska (it's next to Wasilla (not really)) don't care if you're happy with the product. That's why we have to endure assistance from India representatives who can hardly speak English and who suddenly have access to your credit card because you called.
I've had it. I don't spend a lot of money on stuff anyway because I'm not a stuff kind of girl, but in 2011 I plan to buy even less stuff than I normally would. Keep your ol' pieces of junk that won't work right anyhow.
When corporations remember what customer service means, I'll go kiss a frog.
So I'm going to complain.
Companies really don't care if the product they sell to you actually works, because they have your money. Their warranties are often worthless or so convoluted that most folks won't bother with them. Items are made to fall apart at day 92 when you have a 90-day warranty. Count on it.
Additionally, things are made in such a manner that they are not easily handled or easy to care for. And woe unto you if you are an older adult, or female (or both) because few things are made with you in mind.
Most things are made for males age 20-30. The rest of us be damned.
Some of the items that have frustrated me lately include:
Tools. These always irritate me because they are big, bulky, hard to start (women in general have poor upper body strength and trying to pull-start a mower is next to impossible) and generally not made with women's smaller hands and lesser strength in mind. Is it really so hard to make a decent weed eater that a woman can handle, one that actually cuts the grass and doesn't just whack at it? How about a good push cart that doesn't weigh a ton?
Clothing. My blouse fell apart the third time I washed it. Buttons fly off regularly because they are not sewn properly. Hems are crooked. Pockets are not sewn straight into pants. And these are expensive department store clothes, not the stuff off the rack at Walmart.
Humidifiers. I use three of them in the house and have problems with all three. The first one we paid hundreds for - it's a whole house steam humidifier. It worked just beyond its warranty and died a painful death. The company replaced it once, for free, but that one died a painful death as well. Obviously it's not a good product anymore (the very first one was, 23 years ago, but we could no longer obtain parts for it). I have a small steam humidifier that I use in the bedroom. The problem with it? It is cantankerous and will only run with distilled water (which gets expensive), and it is made so that it is difficult to fill. The tank on it is oddly shaped and it won't fit into the sink. The third humidifier is a cool evaporative humidifier and the tank on it leaks badly. It also is shaped weird and won't fit well into the sink, and it is hard to handle and heavy.
Eyeglasses. I am going back tomorrow for a fourth try at replacing a lens in less than a year. Enough said.
Why can't companies make products that last and that work without so much problem? Quality, not quantity, used to be the byword in business, but not anymore. Now companies want to take your money and run, and don't worry about customer service. Once it's out of their warehouse they don't care if you're satisfied or not.
Granted, locally there are a few places that deal with you like you're a human being. The eyeglass shop, for example, is going out of its way to try to fix the issue with my progressive lens, and I greatly appreciate their efforts (which is why I am not naming them). I like the service I receive from my local bank (not the national bank, though the local clerks are okay), my accountant, and the postmasters at the post offices I frequent. The people are the photocopy shop are nice even if I don't agree with them on a few issues.
But these large companies, the ones that are in Bambozzla, Alaska (it's next to Wasilla (not really)) don't care if you're happy with the product. That's why we have to endure assistance from India representatives who can hardly speak English and who suddenly have access to your credit card because you called.
I've had it. I don't spend a lot of money on stuff anyway because I'm not a stuff kind of girl, but in 2011 I plan to buy even less stuff than I normally would. Keep your ol' pieces of junk that won't work right anyhow.
When corporations remember what customer service means, I'll go kiss a frog.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Books: Lake Wobegon Summer 1956
Lake Wobegon Summer 1956
By Garrison Keillor
Copyright 2001
Audio read by the author
6.5 hours
Abridged
For some reason the stories of Lake Wobegon escaped me, I guess because they appeared during a time when I wasn't listening to radio much. A Prairie Home Companion is not something I listen to and so Keillor was an unfamiliar author.
I enjoyed listening to these stories of a young man's arrival to manhood. Gary is a teenager who's never kissed a girl, unless you count Cousin Kate, and he thinks a lot about things like wangers and hooters and how he wants to be a writer but his teachers put red ink all over his papers.
The year is 1956 and times are a little simpler - an Underwood typewriter is the big thrill for Gary, not an iPad or something. There's no such thing as texting (that's a book you read) and so he must interact with folks, especially his friends and family. He and his sister do not get along and, being a sister, I listened to these interactions with interest and with the design of perhaps gaining insight into my relationship with my brother. I don't think it helped much but it was fun to hear.
During some of the time I listened to this book my mother-in-law was in the car and I think she was not keen on Keillor's stories, especially with regards to sexual innuendos, but I found them amusing and rather mild compared to some I have read.
Keillor read the stories with a dry almost monotone voice and it added a good bit to the story. I will definitely check out more of his work.
By Garrison Keillor
Copyright 2001
Audio read by the author
6.5 hours
Abridged
For some reason the stories of Lake Wobegon escaped me, I guess because they appeared during a time when I wasn't listening to radio much. A Prairie Home Companion is not something I listen to and so Keillor was an unfamiliar author.
I enjoyed listening to these stories of a young man's arrival to manhood. Gary is a teenager who's never kissed a girl, unless you count Cousin Kate, and he thinks a lot about things like wangers and hooters and how he wants to be a writer but his teachers put red ink all over his papers.
The year is 1956 and times are a little simpler - an Underwood typewriter is the big thrill for Gary, not an iPad or something. There's no such thing as texting (that's a book you read) and so he must interact with folks, especially his friends and family. He and his sister do not get along and, being a sister, I listened to these interactions with interest and with the design of perhaps gaining insight into my relationship with my brother. I don't think it helped much but it was fun to hear.
During some of the time I listened to this book my mother-in-law was in the car and I think she was not keen on Keillor's stories, especially with regards to sexual innuendos, but I found them amusing and rather mild compared to some I have read.
Keillor read the stories with a dry almost monotone voice and it added a good bit to the story. I will definitely check out more of his work.
Friday, December 10, 2010
A Day in the Life
Yesterday was an errand day, one I spent alone. Here's the first half of my day.
I woke before the alarm went off at 6 a.m., having had yet another night of vivid and disturbing dreams. My robe beckoned, thanks to the chill from below-freezing temperatures, and I grabbed it from the chair as I stumbled into my office to turn on the computer and then shuffled into the kitchen to heat water for tea. I kissed my husband as he sat at the table reading the paper and then rubbed his back and smooched the top of his head. He would be off to work soon.
Back in my office, I sat down at the computer and checked email, wrote a Thursday Thirteen for this blog, rose and returned to the kitchen to fix my tea and kiss the husband goodbye, and then back to the computer to read some news. By 7:30 a.m. I was slipping on my sneakers for 50 minutes of walking on the treadmill while watching the first episode of season two of Star Trek: Voyager, wherein Captain Janeway discovers what really happened to Amelia Earhart.
After showering and dressing (sweatshirt with snowmen on it), I fixed myself an egg, peeled a banana, and settled down to eat with the newspaper in front of me. Bad news everywhere, what with that poor child abducted and her mother killed and government stupidity running rampant everywhere you look. I was grateful for the comics.
Time slipped away and I had to leave for a visit with my hairdresser. As I drove into Roanoke I listened to a book on tape (Garrison Keillor). Absolutely nothing happened between my house and the hair stylist, but when I arrived at my hairdresser's I saw an older woman standing forlornly in the parking lot beside an older vehicle. I glanced at her as I headed inside and she announced to me that her car wouldn't start and that someone was looking for somebody to help her. I thought of the jumper cables in my car but did not mention them. I did, however, step inside to see how long it would be before it was my turn in the seat and had every intention of going back outside to offer assistance if I wouldn't keep anyone waiting. However, I learned inside that the man in the shop next door was already moving his car to assist the woman and so my jumper cables were not required.
I stood at the window waiting for my turn in the beauty chair and watched the man, who could not figure out how to raise the hood on his vehicle for quite some time. One of the hairdressers finally showed him how to do that and I wondered how he planned to jump start a car when he couldn't raise the hood of his own car. However, he did manage to transfer the energy and the older vehicle came to life, as evidenced by the the stuff oozing from the car's tailpipe.
Two older women, their white hair pleasantly coiffed, were leaving their respective chairs to pay their bills. One of the older ladies made a phone call so that someone could come after her; the other had on a sweatshirt with the word Botetourt on it, and I admired that because you do not see things with the county's name on it very often.
My beautician, whose name is Rhonda, beckoned me over and she collared me with a cloak. I removed my glasses and earrings and she hustled me to the shampoo chair, where she proceeded to wet down the hair I'd already washed and did not dry (but which had, by this time, dried on its own).
Once in the chair we chatted about my recent second honeymoon in Greensboro and she asked if I liked the new outlet mall in Mebane, NC, to which I replied that the stores were great but the parking was abysmal, forcing us to walk almost a mile to return to the stores after lunch.
Suddenly one of the hairdressers said, "She's getting in the wrong car" and she headed for the door as the first older lady began climbing into the passenger seat of the vehicle of a strange man. She realized her mistake and was out the door before the hairdresser could rescue her. The older lady came back in the shop, somewhat sheepish, and she said the man laughed and offered to take her home, but of course she declined.
All I could think of was how gray my hair is now and how I do not want to be an old lady getting in the wrong vehicle and possibly being kidnapped and left for dead on the side of the road when they found out I had no diamond earrings and didn't carry cash.
Rhonda finished her artwork and, after blowing me dry, turned me around to show me my shortened doo. My hair has no body in this low humidity that the cold front has brought with it and so my bangs hung rather limply about my face. But that was not Rhonda's fault so I tipped her, declined the offer of one of their business planners, and left.
Back in the car, I checked my watch and wondered if I had enough time to run two errands before my 1 p.m. appointment. Deciding that I did, I headed to Books-A-Million. In the store, I wandered the aisles looking for a book for a friend (who reads my blog so I won't go into detail here) but was unsuccessful in my search. I will have to check Amazon, I thought as I headed to the magazine rack. Then I wandered through the children's items as I still needed to buy something for my niece. As I looked at various books, puzzles, and activity sets, I realized I had no idea what the child does with herself or if she even needs.
I have become the crazy old aunt who send presents that are not right and quickly discarded, I thought, recalling the time my grandmother in California sent me a big set of hot curlers, a most unwelcome present for a girl who spent as little time as possible on her looks (though you wouldn't know that from today's events, would you). I decided then and there to call my sister-in-law for an update on the child's likes and dislikes in hopes of picking out a better present.
At the cash register, the clerk asked me if I had a club card and I replied in the negative. "I do have a credit card, and that is what counts," I said brightly. He snickered and I felt old. I picked up my packages and left, thinking all the while this was the second time I'd been in that store and been annoyed by the checkout person in as many months.
In the car, I called my sister-in-law and left her a message. Then I turned the car toward Walmart.
During the long drive to Bonsack, I half listened to the book on Lake Woebegone while fretting about going to spend money at a place I despise but can afford. I needed dry goods and toiletries, all of which were cheapest there. Husband needed Dr. Peppers in vast quantities (he sucks that stuff down like water) and I refused to pay $1.68 for it when I could get it for $1 at the store from hell. But every time I head toward Wally World I perceive a slow burning sensation in my chest.
In the box store, I wandered through the drugs and toiletries, picking up the things I needed. I always check the aisle with the Oil of Olay even though I don't use it anymore because the Oil of Olay website said the company would be bringing back the formula I used to use (but that was a year ago). In that aisle, a very old woman with multiple wrinkles was placing a bottle of Oil of Olay Regenerist in her cart. In my mind, I shook my head and told her to save her money, for her face was far too gone for any cream to save it. Of course I did not say that and then I wondered how I could be so mean as to even think it, but there you go.
Next I meandered over to the Christmas decorations in search of tissue paper for my boxes that needed wrapping and I looked in awe at the multitude of ways one might decorate for the holidays, what with blue balls for tree trimming and gift tags and paper and bows and ribbons and garland, and all of it stamped Made in China.
From there I ventured into clothing where I briefly looked at scarves. Lately it has been brought to my attention that perhaps I would feel warmer if I kept something about my neck, but most of my scarves are long and burdensome and so I thought something shorter might work. However, everything I picked up was longer than I am tall and so I left the items on the hangers and headed for the grocery aisles.
I gathered up my Dr. Pepper and then went in search of gallon jugs of distilled water for the humidifier. To my dismay, the store was completely out of distilled water and I imagined a small army of folks wandering in and out of that aisle, desperate to find something to put in their humidifiers so that their noses did not bleed from the double whammy of low humidity and furnace heat. And I was glad that I had enough water to get me through the weekend, though it meant another trip to the store early the following week.
At the checkout, I maneuvered my cart into the shortest line. The woman in front of me had a small girl and a baby with her. The baby had nothing on his little feet but upon inspection I noticed a hat and a blanket beside the baby carry so that was okay as it was warm in the store. The woman was checking out a massive amount of items and the clerk was nearly finished when she asked if they would allow her to pay if she gave them her card number but not her credit card. She had forgotten the card but had the number memorized, she explained.
However, this would not work and I watched in dismay, knowing I would now need to move to another line although it never works when I change lines, I always end up being further behind than I would have been. But move I did, and I muttered something to myself about people having no common sense; how could you go to a store to spend hundreds of dollars and not have the money with you to pay for it, and then I began thinking of my mother and how she always told me I had no common sense, and how this always made me feel bad for she said it like it was a bad thing. I had plenty of book sense she said but no common sense and I remember trying to figure out how one acquired common sense but apparently it was something you were born with and I missed out when they were handing out that particular asset on my way down to earth to be born.
And so I stood there wondering if all of my problems in life could be boiled down to this one missing item, this lack of common sense, and then it was my turn at the check out and just then it was time for the clerks to switch out, and so I had to wait even longer, and I began to fear I would be late for my 1 p.m. appointment because I had been in the checkout lane for so long even though I had allowed 20 minutes simply for getting out of the store.
But I was not late, and my appointment was a massage, and gratefully I flung my naked self upon the table and for an hour willed my brain to stop its incessant chatter while the greatest massage person in the world worked on my back and neck and tried to make me feel better. All the while soothing music lulled me and the oils oozed and I tried a little controlled breathing to keep the thoughts at bay, particularly when I felt ideas about career and jobs and how to make money come creeping in like some kind of spider on steroids. I slapped those back and took a deep breath and focused on the feeling of my muscles loosening and all was right with the world.
I woke before the alarm went off at 6 a.m., having had yet another night of vivid and disturbing dreams. My robe beckoned, thanks to the chill from below-freezing temperatures, and I grabbed it from the chair as I stumbled into my office to turn on the computer and then shuffled into the kitchen to heat water for tea. I kissed my husband as he sat at the table reading the paper and then rubbed his back and smooched the top of his head. He would be off to work soon.
Back in my office, I sat down at the computer and checked email, wrote a Thursday Thirteen for this blog, rose and returned to the kitchen to fix my tea and kiss the husband goodbye, and then back to the computer to read some news. By 7:30 a.m. I was slipping on my sneakers for 50 minutes of walking on the treadmill while watching the first episode of season two of Star Trek: Voyager, wherein Captain Janeway discovers what really happened to Amelia Earhart.
After showering and dressing (sweatshirt with snowmen on it), I fixed myself an egg, peeled a banana, and settled down to eat with the newspaper in front of me. Bad news everywhere, what with that poor child abducted and her mother killed and government stupidity running rampant everywhere you look. I was grateful for the comics.
Time slipped away and I had to leave for a visit with my hairdresser. As I drove into Roanoke I listened to a book on tape (Garrison Keillor). Absolutely nothing happened between my house and the hair stylist, but when I arrived at my hairdresser's I saw an older woman standing forlornly in the parking lot beside an older vehicle. I glanced at her as I headed inside and she announced to me that her car wouldn't start and that someone was looking for somebody to help her. I thought of the jumper cables in my car but did not mention them. I did, however, step inside to see how long it would be before it was my turn in the seat and had every intention of going back outside to offer assistance if I wouldn't keep anyone waiting. However, I learned inside that the man in the shop next door was already moving his car to assist the woman and so my jumper cables were not required.
I stood at the window waiting for my turn in the beauty chair and watched the man, who could not figure out how to raise the hood on his vehicle for quite some time. One of the hairdressers finally showed him how to do that and I wondered how he planned to jump start a car when he couldn't raise the hood of his own car. However, he did manage to transfer the energy and the older vehicle came to life, as evidenced by the the stuff oozing from the car's tailpipe.
Two older women, their white hair pleasantly coiffed, were leaving their respective chairs to pay their bills. One of the older ladies made a phone call so that someone could come after her; the other had on a sweatshirt with the word Botetourt on it, and I admired that because you do not see things with the county's name on it very often.
My beautician, whose name is Rhonda, beckoned me over and she collared me with a cloak. I removed my glasses and earrings and she hustled me to the shampoo chair, where she proceeded to wet down the hair I'd already washed and did not dry (but which had, by this time, dried on its own).
Once in the chair we chatted about my recent second honeymoon in Greensboro and she asked if I liked the new outlet mall in Mebane, NC, to which I replied that the stores were great but the parking was abysmal, forcing us to walk almost a mile to return to the stores after lunch.
Suddenly one of the hairdressers said, "She's getting in the wrong car" and she headed for the door as the first older lady began climbing into the passenger seat of the vehicle of a strange man. She realized her mistake and was out the door before the hairdresser could rescue her. The older lady came back in the shop, somewhat sheepish, and she said the man laughed and offered to take her home, but of course she declined.
All I could think of was how gray my hair is now and how I do not want to be an old lady getting in the wrong vehicle and possibly being kidnapped and left for dead on the side of the road when they found out I had no diamond earrings and didn't carry cash.
Rhonda finished her artwork and, after blowing me dry, turned me around to show me my shortened doo. My hair has no body in this low humidity that the cold front has brought with it and so my bangs hung rather limply about my face. But that was not Rhonda's fault so I tipped her, declined the offer of one of their business planners, and left.
Back in the car, I checked my watch and wondered if I had enough time to run two errands before my 1 p.m. appointment. Deciding that I did, I headed to Books-A-Million. In the store, I wandered the aisles looking for a book for a friend (who reads my blog so I won't go into detail here) but was unsuccessful in my search. I will have to check Amazon, I thought as I headed to the magazine rack. Then I wandered through the children's items as I still needed to buy something for my niece. As I looked at various books, puzzles, and activity sets, I realized I had no idea what the child does with herself or if she even needs.
I have become the crazy old aunt who send presents that are not right and quickly discarded, I thought, recalling the time my grandmother in California sent me a big set of hot curlers, a most unwelcome present for a girl who spent as little time as possible on her looks (though you wouldn't know that from today's events, would you). I decided then and there to call my sister-in-law for an update on the child's likes and dislikes in hopes of picking out a better present.
At the cash register, the clerk asked me if I had a club card and I replied in the negative. "I do have a credit card, and that is what counts," I said brightly. He snickered and I felt old. I picked up my packages and left, thinking all the while this was the second time I'd been in that store and been annoyed by the checkout person in as many months.
In the car, I called my sister-in-law and left her a message. Then I turned the car toward Walmart.
During the long drive to Bonsack, I half listened to the book on Lake Woebegone while fretting about going to spend money at a place I despise but can afford. I needed dry goods and toiletries, all of which were cheapest there. Husband needed Dr. Peppers in vast quantities (he sucks that stuff down like water) and I refused to pay $1.68 for it when I could get it for $1 at the store from hell. But every time I head toward Wally World I perceive a slow burning sensation in my chest.
In the box store, I wandered through the drugs and toiletries, picking up the things I needed. I always check the aisle with the Oil of Olay even though I don't use it anymore because the Oil of Olay website said the company would be bringing back the formula I used to use (but that was a year ago). In that aisle, a very old woman with multiple wrinkles was placing a bottle of Oil of Olay Regenerist in her cart. In my mind, I shook my head and told her to save her money, for her face was far too gone for any cream to save it. Of course I did not say that and then I wondered how I could be so mean as to even think it, but there you go.
Next I meandered over to the Christmas decorations in search of tissue paper for my boxes that needed wrapping and I looked in awe at the multitude of ways one might decorate for the holidays, what with blue balls for tree trimming and gift tags and paper and bows and ribbons and garland, and all of it stamped Made in China.
From there I ventured into clothing where I briefly looked at scarves. Lately it has been brought to my attention that perhaps I would feel warmer if I kept something about my neck, but most of my scarves are long and burdensome and so I thought something shorter might work. However, everything I picked up was longer than I am tall and so I left the items on the hangers and headed for the grocery aisles.
I gathered up my Dr. Pepper and then went in search of gallon jugs of distilled water for the humidifier. To my dismay, the store was completely out of distilled water and I imagined a small army of folks wandering in and out of that aisle, desperate to find something to put in their humidifiers so that their noses did not bleed from the double whammy of low humidity and furnace heat. And I was glad that I had enough water to get me through the weekend, though it meant another trip to the store early the following week.
At the checkout, I maneuvered my cart into the shortest line. The woman in front of me had a small girl and a baby with her. The baby had nothing on his little feet but upon inspection I noticed a hat and a blanket beside the baby carry so that was okay as it was warm in the store. The woman was checking out a massive amount of items and the clerk was nearly finished when she asked if they would allow her to pay if she gave them her card number but not her credit card. She had forgotten the card but had the number memorized, she explained.
However, this would not work and I watched in dismay, knowing I would now need to move to another line although it never works when I change lines, I always end up being further behind than I would have been. But move I did, and I muttered something to myself about people having no common sense; how could you go to a store to spend hundreds of dollars and not have the money with you to pay for it, and then I began thinking of my mother and how she always told me I had no common sense, and how this always made me feel bad for she said it like it was a bad thing. I had plenty of book sense she said but no common sense and I remember trying to figure out how one acquired common sense but apparently it was something you were born with and I missed out when they were handing out that particular asset on my way down to earth to be born.
And so I stood there wondering if all of my problems in life could be boiled down to this one missing item, this lack of common sense, and then it was my turn at the check out and just then it was time for the clerks to switch out, and so I had to wait even longer, and I began to fear I would be late for my 1 p.m. appointment because I had been in the checkout lane for so long even though I had allowed 20 minutes simply for getting out of the store.
But I was not late, and my appointment was a massage, and gratefully I flung my naked self upon the table and for an hour willed my brain to stop its incessant chatter while the greatest massage person in the world worked on my back and neck and tried to make me feel better. All the while soothing music lulled me and the oils oozed and I tried a little controlled breathing to keep the thoughts at bay, particularly when I felt ideas about career and jobs and how to make money come creeping in like some kind of spider on steroids. I slapped those back and took a deep breath and focused on the feeling of my muscles loosening and all was right with the world.
Thursday, December 09, 2010
Thursday Thirteen
Letters to Santa often are very selfish and I daresay mine is no exception. Santa is a great commercial and consumer icon, the epitome of "me me me." Still, it's kind of fun to think about what you would like for a semi-god-like entity to hand over.
It is also rather hard to come up with 13 things.
Dear Santa:
(1) Please take a long look around the world and then ask yourself, how did this happen? How is that there are billions of people without food, shoes, good water, health care, and education? Then put your elves to work on these problems. Perhaps they can cobble ways to create fertile farm lands from arid deserts, or they could craft people-sized clothing instead of stuff for dolls. Maybe Herbie could expand his dentistry.
2. After you've addressed those larger issues, let's take a look at smaller things. In my area we've got a kidnapped girl with her mother murdered, 47 indictments for drug issues in my little county of 32,000 people, and a lot of fires because it is cold outside and people are using fire to stay warm. Not to mention the fact that someone is out killing cows from a farmers' field and throwing the carcases all over the place. I don't know how you fix that kind of thing.
3. Could you take something instead of giving, dear Santa? Could you take the meanness away? And in its place, could you please leave a little "nice"?
4. Lots of people need work, Santa, and I mean they need good jobs, not Walmart greeter positions. Maybe you could figure out how to put some of those folks to work curing all of those ills up in item number one. That would be ingenious and very smart, wouldn't it, using folks out of work who can work to help other people while they get back on their feet.
5. Please help people who have very closed minds to realize that is not always about business and corporate profits. You know who they are. Please remind them that morality means doing the right thing because it is the right thing. Apparently they need a lot of reminding.
6. Locally, please help the leaders to make the appropriate decisions as they slash budgets and make immoral cuts to services.
And now on to the selfish stuff:
7. I would like an iPad just because they look really cool.
8. I also would like a new camera. I have been looking at these point-and-shoot Nikons with the 26x lens on them and they look pretty nifty.
9. Since I am asking for items I know I won't get this year, I will toss in a sunroom. I would use it for my exercise room and get the treadmill out of the kitchen and the exercise bike out of the living room.
10. A maid would be nice, too. I think I ask for this every year and she is still not forthcoming.
11. Weight loss is another item. Maybe you could bring me a membership to the gym or something. Or maybe you could create some kind of food vacuum that would take away all of the bad food as soon as I bring it in the house. Something besides my eating it, that is.
12. Please take good care of all of my friends and loved ones, dear Santa, and bring them whatever they need from your goodie bag.
13. And last, but not least, please see that my gentle readers are happy, loved, and patted on the head as they go throughout the holiday season. Fulfill their wish list, too.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 168th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
The Lost Shoe
Sitting along side Country Club Road, just off US 220, lies a yellow and black shoe.
It has been there for several months, and I only see it when I am in the passenger side of the car. As we drive by, I see it sitting forlornly in the dirt, unclaimed and unloved.
I always wonder how articles of clothing end up away from their mates and owners. Did this shoe fall off a moving truck? Is someone who now lives elsewhere missing it, wondering what became of their favorite sole?
Were two young people arguing in a back seat, and one, highly vexed, heaved a shoe at the other, sending the missile out the window and into the road, where it was hit by a car that sent it careening into the mud and grass of the roadside?
Perhaps someone was riding a bike and his foot slipped, and he was so aggravated that he pulled his shoe off then and there, and abandoned it in order to pedal home barefooted. But then what would have become of the mate?
Who bought this shoe? Did some mother lovingly choose this shoe for a wayward son, hoping that if she made this purchase her young lad would wise up and suddenly stop running around with the gang on the corner because she didn't want him to be another name in the county's latest drug user round up?
Or maybe a fiancee made this purchase as a gift for a beloved, the action taking weeks as the lover thought and pondered the most perfect of presents until finally happening upon a pair of yellow and black shoes. They spoke to the lover who thought, Eureka, I have found it! And the shoes were presented with much fanfare and many kisses. And then what if the lovers quarreled, and the shoes made their way to the trash, and en route to the landfill, one fell to the pavement, a final note on a doomed relationship?
The lost shoe is no more than trash, right? Another consumer item lost to the owner, its value diminished to practically nothing because it has no mate and it's been out in the rain and probably run over by cars and trucks. Worthless.
And yet, such stories there are in singular lost shoes. Such angst and anxiety, not to mention puzzlement and bewilderment. In a single shoe there lies a world of ideas.
Worthless? I think not.
And therein lies the lesson.
It has been there for several months, and I only see it when I am in the passenger side of the car. As we drive by, I see it sitting forlornly in the dirt, unclaimed and unloved.
I always wonder how articles of clothing end up away from their mates and owners. Did this shoe fall off a moving truck? Is someone who now lives elsewhere missing it, wondering what became of their favorite sole?
Were two young people arguing in a back seat, and one, highly vexed, heaved a shoe at the other, sending the missile out the window and into the road, where it was hit by a car that sent it careening into the mud and grass of the roadside?
Perhaps someone was riding a bike and his foot slipped, and he was so aggravated that he pulled his shoe off then and there, and abandoned it in order to pedal home barefooted. But then what would have become of the mate?
Who bought this shoe? Did some mother lovingly choose this shoe for a wayward son, hoping that if she made this purchase her young lad would wise up and suddenly stop running around with the gang on the corner because she didn't want him to be another name in the county's latest drug user round up?
Or maybe a fiancee made this purchase as a gift for a beloved, the action taking weeks as the lover thought and pondered the most perfect of presents until finally happening upon a pair of yellow and black shoes. They spoke to the lover who thought, Eureka, I have found it! And the shoes were presented with much fanfare and many kisses. And then what if the lovers quarreled, and the shoes made their way to the trash, and en route to the landfill, one fell to the pavement, a final note on a doomed relationship?
The lost shoe is no more than trash, right? Another consumer item lost to the owner, its value diminished to practically nothing because it has no mate and it's been out in the rain and probably run over by cars and trucks. Worthless.
And yet, such stories there are in singular lost shoes. Such angst and anxiety, not to mention puzzlement and bewilderment. In a single shoe there lies a world of ideas.
Worthless? I think not.
And therein lies the lesson.
Monday, December 06, 2010
Books: The Lost Symbol
The Lost Symbol
By Dan Brown
Copyright 2009
639 pages
When a book over 600 pages seems like a very short read, you know something about the story must be working right.
Brown has hit upon a good formula for his books. This read much like The DaVinci Code and had many similar incidents, including a maniacal villain, a woman with home hero Robert Langdon could do some of the running and sleuthing, and of course a mystery that has puzzled and fascinated folks for centuries.
The book focuses on the Masons and mysteries surrounding Washington DC that involve this organization and the forefathers of the country. You can find information from National Geographic about Masonic symbols by following the link. As far as conspiracy theories go, this one is a whopper and you can find innumerable websites devoted to probing the cult link between Masons and power brokers.
Since this was a work of fiction, I have no idea what legends harbor any truth at all, so I will not speculate as to whether truth has been revealed as fiction. I have no idea.
Langdon is an interesting character in that he is very smart but seems a little deficit of commonsense. His initial distrust of the CIA Director seemed misbegotten and either I missed something or the author did not convey to me the reasons as to why Langdon feared the director was on the wrong side. It's a big part of the plot and a huge hole to worry over while reading.
Aside from that, the concepts of the book are very intriguing, but I suspect not welcome among staunch Christians (it's very New Age) and folks hoping for the End Times in 2012. The book advocates that change will be positive, not negative, and this is a mindset that I wish more folks would subscribe to. I enjoyed seeing the negatives turned around into positives.
The book also indicates that the stupidity of the masses is ongoing and continual, and that humanity really isn't ready for truth, understanding, and compassion.
If you want to read more before you obtain the book, Wikipedia has a good synopsis.
By Dan Brown
Copyright 2009
639 pages
When a book over 600 pages seems like a very short read, you know something about the story must be working right.
Brown has hit upon a good formula for his books. This read much like The DaVinci Code and had many similar incidents, including a maniacal villain, a woman with home hero Robert Langdon could do some of the running and sleuthing, and of course a mystery that has puzzled and fascinated folks for centuries.
The book focuses on the Masons and mysteries surrounding Washington DC that involve this organization and the forefathers of the country. You can find information from National Geographic about Masonic symbols by following the link. As far as conspiracy theories go, this one is a whopper and you can find innumerable websites devoted to probing the cult link between Masons and power brokers.
Since this was a work of fiction, I have no idea what legends harbor any truth at all, so I will not speculate as to whether truth has been revealed as fiction. I have no idea.
Langdon is an interesting character in that he is very smart but seems a little deficit of commonsense. His initial distrust of the CIA Director seemed misbegotten and either I missed something or the author did not convey to me the reasons as to why Langdon feared the director was on the wrong side. It's a big part of the plot and a huge hole to worry over while reading.
Aside from that, the concepts of the book are very intriguing, but I suspect not welcome among staunch Christians (it's very New Age) and folks hoping for the End Times in 2012. The book advocates that change will be positive, not negative, and this is a mindset that I wish more folks would subscribe to. I enjoyed seeing the negatives turned around into positives.
The book also indicates that the stupidity of the masses is ongoing and continual, and that humanity really isn't ready for truth, understanding, and compassion.
If you want to read more before you obtain the book, Wikipedia has a good synopsis.
Sunday, December 05, 2010
First December Snow
We had our first significant snow for December. It is not the first snow of the year, as we had those in January, February and March of last year. But it is the first snow of this season.
This little snow is more like a skiff and the roads are clear. These are the best kind of snows as they don't create chaos.
This is the view out the front door this morning. The wind had already blown the snow from the cedars and pines when I woke. Doesn't that mean more snow will follow, according to those old legends?
The wind is blowing in from the west so there was a little snow on the east side of this blue spruce.
This little snow is more like a skiff and the roads are clear. These are the best kind of snows as they don't create chaos.
The wind is blowing in from the west so there was a little snow on the east side of this blue spruce.
Looks like a cold and blustery day!
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Thursday Thirteen
Today it's all about the Harry Potter movie, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1. We saw the movie on Sunday and here are a few of my thoughts on it. There are probably spoilers but if you're read the book you already know how it ends anyway.
1. The movie is incredibly dark, not just in content but also in the cinematography. Dark colors, night, little light. Everything is rather drab.
2. Emma Watson (Hermione) needs to put on a little weight. I thought she looked a little thin and a little tired. But she acts the part exceptionally well and I believed her character more so than the lead one (Mr. Potter).
3. The special effects in the movie are well done, but nothing really stands out in my mind.
4. The movie adheres to the book in plot line, more or less, but does not adhere to the book in details.
5. In general, the book is better than the movie in my humble opinion, and that is not always the case with me. Sometimes the movies are better but I don't think that is the case this time.
6. I am not a fan of horror movie camera work (you know, where the people are running and scrambling and the camera is following along and it looks like it's falling off a cliff or something and you can't half tell what is going on) and there is a good bit of that in this film.
7. Helena Bonham Carter does a fantastic job as Bella LeStrange. Totally believable and wicked cool. I think she was my favorite in this particular film.
8. Daniel Radcliff has grown into a young man but I had trouble believing that Harry Potter was only 18 as he comes across older than that in the film.
9. I'm not a big Ron Weasley fan but Rupert Grint was the right actor for the part. He does a fine job with the character.
10. There wasn't enough of Snape in this film, but then there wasn't a lot of Snape in the book, either. Rather unfortunate, that.
11. Ralph Fiennes is an excellent Vlodemort and he plays the character with much finesse and sophistication, which is exactly how I pictured him as I read the book.
12. Evanna Lynch plays a perfect Luna, wide-eyed and a little on the other side of the world. Excellent casting.
13. There is a lot of symbolism in the movie, mostly pertaining to Nazi Germany, fascism and other eye-brow raising forms of government. The torturing of Hermione is particularly painful to see at one point.
There you go. I give the film 3.5 stars out of 5. It's not a bad film but I wouldn't recommend it to anyone other than other Harry Potter fans.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 167th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
1. The movie is incredibly dark, not just in content but also in the cinematography. Dark colors, night, little light. Everything is rather drab.
2. Emma Watson (Hermione) needs to put on a little weight. I thought she looked a little thin and a little tired. But she acts the part exceptionally well and I believed her character more so than the lead one (Mr. Potter).
3. The special effects in the movie are well done, but nothing really stands out in my mind.
4. The movie adheres to the book in plot line, more or less, but does not adhere to the book in details.
5. In general, the book is better than the movie in my humble opinion, and that is not always the case with me. Sometimes the movies are better but I don't think that is the case this time.
6. I am not a fan of horror movie camera work (you know, where the people are running and scrambling and the camera is following along and it looks like it's falling off a cliff or something and you can't half tell what is going on) and there is a good bit of that in this film.
7. Helena Bonham Carter does a fantastic job as Bella LeStrange. Totally believable and wicked cool. I think she was my favorite in this particular film.
8. Daniel Radcliff has grown into a young man but I had trouble believing that Harry Potter was only 18 as he comes across older than that in the film.
9. I'm not a big Ron Weasley fan but Rupert Grint was the right actor for the part. He does a fine job with the character.
10. There wasn't enough of Snape in this film, but then there wasn't a lot of Snape in the book, either. Rather unfortunate, that.
11. Ralph Fiennes is an excellent Vlodemort and he plays the character with much finesse and sophistication, which is exactly how I pictured him as I read the book.
12. Evanna Lynch plays a perfect Luna, wide-eyed and a little on the other side of the world. Excellent casting.
13. There is a lot of symbolism in the movie, mostly pertaining to Nazi Germany, fascism and other eye-brow raising forms of government. The torturing of Hermione is particularly painful to see at one point.
There you go. I give the film 3.5 stars out of 5. It's not a bad film but I wouldn't recommend it to anyone other than other Harry Potter fans.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 167th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
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