The dishwasher has developed a rinsing problem, leaving heavy residue on the dishes.
This is not the end of the world. A dishwasher is not a necessity, not like, say a water heater.
But I despise washing dishes. I would rather clean the toilet.
Some of my friends greatly enjoy washing dishes, and own no dishwasher. They apparently love to stand by the sink, their hands growing wrinkly, while they play in filthy water contaminated with the dregs of their dinner.
It is not my thing.
I began washing dishes before I was five. My mother would stack books on a chair and then place me on top of the books with orders to wash the dishes.
My memories of doing this are rather painful.
I recall once, before I was six, my father had purchased some kind of reel-to-reel recording device. He had it in the kitchen, and I was instructed to be very quiet while I washed the dishes. Of course halfway through his song, I dropped the silverware. He knocked me off the chair.
Later, when I was about 9, my brother, three years my junior, "helped" by dumping the macaroni salad into the dishwater in the sink instead of into the trash. He vanished, and my mother came in as I tried to fish out the macaroni. She flew into a rage and, after making me empty the dishwasher and clean the sink, she proceeded to empty the cabinets of every dish in the place and forced me to stand there and wash each piece. I remember watching my tears splash into the dishwater.
And another time, when I was 9 or 10, I ended up staying alone in the house for what seemed like a very long while my parents and brother went fishing, because I had not finished the dishes in a timely manner. I remember being absolutely terrified at being alone.
So as you can see, washing the dishes is not something I have been very happy doing.
Which means that unless my husband can fix this dishwasher, which is a Whirlpool we purchased in 2003, I will be getting a new dishwasher pretty soon.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Books: How I Write
How I Write
By Janet Evanovich with Ina Yalof
Copyright 2006
I picked this up a while back out of curiousity. I write thousands of words a week but I am not writing fiction.
However, I would like to write fiction.
This book is mainly a question and answer, with the questions coming from Evanovich's website.
I was surprised at the number of ways Evanovich could answer the question "I want to be like you, how do I go about it?" People must ask that a lot.
I learned nothing new here but I think someone who hasn't ever seriously considered writing fiction but might like to would find this of interest. Which, judging from the questions, is a lot of people.
Since I've semi-seriously considered it at times, and done my homework about how to go about it, there was not much new information in here. Still, it was interesting to see how she goes about putting a book together.
3 stars
By Janet Evanovich with Ina Yalof
Copyright 2006
I picked this up a while back out of curiousity. I write thousands of words a week but I am not writing fiction.
However, I would like to write fiction.
This book is mainly a question and answer, with the questions coming from Evanovich's website.
I was surprised at the number of ways Evanovich could answer the question "I want to be like you, how do I go about it?" People must ask that a lot.
I learned nothing new here but I think someone who hasn't ever seriously considered writing fiction but might like to would find this of interest. Which, judging from the questions, is a lot of people.
Since I've semi-seriously considered it at times, and done my homework about how to go about it, there was not much new information in here. Still, it was interesting to see how she goes about putting a book together.
3 stars
Friday, August 24, 2007
Remembrance
My mother passed away seven years ago today.
I wrote about it last year, which you can read here.
Funny thing, I had almost forgotten that this is the anniversary of her death. I have so much going on right now that it was far from my mind.
And then I ate a cookie.
My in-laws are away, and I was fetching their mail and newspaper. After I carried it into their house, I opened the pantry door and filched a cookie.
A Little Debbie Oatmeal Cookie, to be exact.
I couldn't remember the last time I had one of those. I peeled the wrapper and bit into it, feeling the creamy insides and the oatmeal cookie outside. Yum, my mouth said.
I call these cookies "granddaddy cookies" because my grandfather carried one to work with him in his lunch pail every day.
He was a warehouse foreman for Kroger in Salem. He worked there nearly 30 years. He must have worked from 7-4, if that is a shift, because he was always home at 4:30 p.m., at which time my grandmother had dinner on the table.
Granddaddy cookies were special treats. We weren't supposed to eat them. But if you had a need, like, say, you'd been beaten up by a young cousin or your favorite toy had broken, you could swing a Granddaddy cookie.
I can remember sitting on Grandma's lap, blubbering my little girl's heart out over some misdeed. "Sweetie, what can Grandma do to make you feel better," she'd say, rocking me gently, my head against her breast. I listened to her heart beat and the song she hummed in her throat. Sobbing, of course, with my thumb in my mouth.
And inevitably when she asked the question, I'd point toward the blue container where the Little Debbies hid. A Granddaddy cookie would soon be forthcoming, and all would be right in my world again.
I remembered all this as I headed home, eating my stolen cookie, and of course in the remembering, I thought of my mother, and then recalled the date.
Fate must've wanted to remind me, or I'd have never opened that pantry.
I wrote about it last year, which you can read here.
Funny thing, I had almost forgotten that this is the anniversary of her death. I have so much going on right now that it was far from my mind.
And then I ate a cookie.
My in-laws are away, and I was fetching their mail and newspaper. After I carried it into their house, I opened the pantry door and filched a cookie.
A Little Debbie Oatmeal Cookie, to be exact.
I couldn't remember the last time I had one of those. I peeled the wrapper and bit into it, feeling the creamy insides and the oatmeal cookie outside. Yum, my mouth said.
I call these cookies "granddaddy cookies" because my grandfather carried one to work with him in his lunch pail every day.
He was a warehouse foreman for Kroger in Salem. He worked there nearly 30 years. He must have worked from 7-4, if that is a shift, because he was always home at 4:30 p.m., at which time my grandmother had dinner on the table.
Granddaddy cookies were special treats. We weren't supposed to eat them. But if you had a need, like, say, you'd been beaten up by a young cousin or your favorite toy had broken, you could swing a Granddaddy cookie.
I can remember sitting on Grandma's lap, blubbering my little girl's heart out over some misdeed. "Sweetie, what can Grandma do to make you feel better," she'd say, rocking me gently, my head against her breast. I listened to her heart beat and the song she hummed in her throat. Sobbing, of course, with my thumb in my mouth.
And inevitably when she asked the question, I'd point toward the blue container where the Little Debbies hid. A Granddaddy cookie would soon be forthcoming, and all would be right in my world again.
I remembered all this as I headed home, eating my stolen cookie, and of course in the remembering, I thought of my mother, and then recalled the date.
Fate must've wanted to remind me, or I'd have never opened that pantry.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Thursday Thirteen
Great things about summer:
1. Vine-ripened tomatoes from your very own garden. A tomato and mayonnaise sandwich is hard to beat.
2. Locally grown Concord grapes. They have taste and are better than anything shipped from ... wherever it is they come from.
3. Cucumbers from your very own garden. A little vinegar and yum. They actually have taste!
4. Locally grown watermelon. Again, there's that taste thing.
5. Locally grown peaches. The peach crop is a little thin this year, thanks to a bad freeze, but they are delicious if you can find them.
6. Balmy evenings when you can sit outside and listen to the crickets, the tree frogs and the cows and never reach for a sweater.
7. Thunderstorms. (I like them, usually.)
8. Longer days.
9. Hot mornings when you sweat just walking out for the newspaper.
10. Fawns frolicking in the field beside the house.
11. Light breezes.
12. Slow moving rivers.
13. Flowers blooming in the yard.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Books: Lean Mean Thirteen
Lean Mean Thirteen
By Janet Evanovich
Copyright 2007
The latest in the Stephanie Plum, bounty hunter, series has our heroine blamed for the disappearance of her ex-husband, Dickie Orr.
She's also sleeping with Morelli and in the company of Ranger.
Lulu is her usual intriguing self. There are some explosions.
The last two books seem to me to have had a little change in tenor, a little sadder, maybe.
And this 13th adventure felt a bit formulaic to me. Still, it was a good way to spend some hours. I recommend all of Evanovich's books.
3.5 stars
By Janet Evanovich
Copyright 2007
The latest in the Stephanie Plum, bounty hunter, series has our heroine blamed for the disappearance of her ex-husband, Dickie Orr.
She's also sleeping with Morelli and in the company of Ranger.
Lulu is her usual intriguing self. There are some explosions.
The last two books seem to me to have had a little change in tenor, a little sadder, maybe.
And this 13th adventure felt a bit formulaic to me. Still, it was a good way to spend some hours. I recommend all of Evanovich's books.
3.5 stars
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Man Mowing Dirt
We have been very dry. Abnormally dry, although I am not sure what is normal anymore.
The latest report from the Virginia Department of Environmental Quality doesn't offer any clues as to when we will find relief.
Agriculture, so far, is feeling the effects of this lack of rain moreso than city dwellers. They've not been asked to ration their water - yet. This may come if the levels of streams and ponds continue to drop, though.
Water is a precious commodity. We try to conserve - we don't water the grass, for instance. We do water the garden but that's a food source.
However, the golf course on US 220 probably waters enough for a hundred families. Their sprinklers seem to be running 24/7.
Twenty-six counties so far have asked for federal assistance due to drought; Botetourt has it on its agenda for next week.
Farmers are selling off cattle because of lack of hay. Dairymen are already chopping corn, about two weeks early. What corn is there is not the yield that it should be.
We are already feeding hay to the cattle to supplement what little grass is in the pasture, and most likely we will be selling off part, if not all, of the herd.
The area is about 6 to 9 inches low in its rainfall totals for the year.
The trees are showing signs of distress, too. Leaves are turning already; some are simply yellowing and falling to the ground. It doesn't look like it will be a very pretty autumn.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Varmits in the Garden
I woke this morning to find that my tomato cages had been ripped up from the ground, and two of the posts holding my fence around the garden broken.
One of the tomato cages lay all the way down at the other fence, the one that keeps the cows out of the yard.
The tomato cages are *not* light; in fact, they are rather heavy.
The tomato plants, if not twisted up, have been heavily eaten and gnawed upon.
My hypothesis is a young buck got into the garden in spite of my little plastic fence (which has never been very good at keeping them away, anyway), and then his horns became ensnared in the tomato cage.
That is the only way I can account for the tomato cage being 20 feet away from the garden, anyway. It certainly would have taken one really huge rabbit to carry that thing that far!
I would have liked to have seen the buck trying to get that tomato cage loose, if that is indeed what happened. The poor thing probably panicked.
This evening I will try to repair the damage as best I can, but I suspect the life of my garden has been severely compromised.
Next year I think I need a better fence.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Forms of Poetry
Yesterday I posted a poem I wrote some time ago. It is a sestina, which is a specific form of poetry.
The definition of a sestina, from Wikipedia, is as follows:
A sestina is a highly structured poem consisting of six six-line stanzas followed by
a tercet (called its envoy or tornada), for a total of thirty-nine lines. The same set of six
words ends the lines of each of the six-line stanzas, but in a different order each time; if we number the first stanza's lines 123456, then the words ending the second stanza's lines appear in the order 615243, then 64125, then 532614, then 451362, and finally 246531.... These six words then appear in the
tercet as well, with the tercet's first line usually containing 1 and 2, its second 3 and 4, and its third 5 and 6 (but other versions exist...).
Thus we get this form in my poem (I prefer to use ABCDEF instead of numbers, so I'm using both for an example):
grass (A)(1)
roses (B)(2)
bloom (C)(3)
sun (D)(4)
sea (E)(5)
garden (F)(6)
garden (F)(6)
grass (A)(1)
sea (E)(5)
roses (B)(2)
sun (D)(4)
bloom (C) (3)
etc.
Another form of poetry that I have written in the past is the Villanelle.
A1 (refrain)
b
A2 (refrain)
a
b
A1 (refrain)
a
b
A2 (refrain)
a
b
A1 (refrain)
a
b
A2 (refrain)
a
b
A1
A2 (refrain)
One of the most famous villanelle's is Dylan Thomas's Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, which you can read at the link.
Another poetry form that's fun to play with is the sonnet. There are many different forms of sonnet.
Here is the diagram for a Shakespearean Sonnet:
(a)
(b)
(a)
(b)
(c)
(d)
(c)
(d)
(e)
(f)
(e)
(f)
(g)
(g)
This is the most familiar form for English readers, I think.
The Spenserian sonnet has this pattern:
(a)
(b)
(a)
(b)
(b)
(c)
(b)
(c)
(c)
(d)
(c)
(d)
(e)
(e)
I like playing with poetry forms when I'm feeling blocked. It becomes a game, then, like working a crossword puzzle, to try and make it work out properly.
The definition of a sestina, from Wikipedia, is as follows:
A sestina is a highly structured poem consisting of six six-line stanzas followed by
a tercet (called its envoy or tornada), for a total of thirty-nine lines. The same set of six
words ends the lines of each of the six-line stanzas, but in a different order each time; if we number the first stanza's lines 123456, then the words ending the second stanza's lines appear in the order 615243, then 64125, then 532614, then 451362, and finally 246531.... These six words then appear in the
tercet as well, with the tercet's first line usually containing 1 and 2, its second 3 and 4, and its third 5 and 6 (but other versions exist...).
Thus we get this form in my poem (I prefer to use ABCDEF instead of numbers, so I'm using both for an example):
grass (A)(1)
roses (B)(2)
bloom (C)(3)
sun (D)(4)
sea (E)(5)
garden (F)(6)
garden (F)(6)
grass (A)(1)
sea (E)(5)
roses (B)(2)
sun (D)(4)
bloom (C) (3)
etc.
Another form of poetry that I have written in the past is the Villanelle.
A1 (refrain)
b
A2 (refrain)
a
b
A1 (refrain)
a
b
A2 (refrain)
a
b
A1 (refrain)
a
b
A2 (refrain)
a
b
A1
A2 (refrain)
One of the most famous villanelle's is Dylan Thomas's Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, which you can read at the link.
Another poetry form that's fun to play with is the sonnet. There are many different forms of sonnet.
Here is the diagram for a Shakespearean Sonnet:
(a)
(b)
(a)
(b)
(c)
(d)
(c)
(d)
(e)
(f)
(e)
(f)
(g)
(g)
This is the most familiar form for English readers, I think.
The Spenserian sonnet has this pattern:
(a)
(b)
(a)
(b)
(b)
(c)
(b)
(c)
(c)
(d)
(c)
(d)
(e)
(e)
I like playing with poetry forms when I'm feeling blocked. It becomes a game, then, like working a crossword puzzle, to try and make it work out properly.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Sorting Through the Roses
Sorting Through the Roses
A Sestina
By CountryDew
Leaves sway as winds blow the grass.
Your flower bed dances with roses.
Buds fill the arbor, ache to bloom.
Showers of brightness move in the sun.
Aphrodite's roses raised in the sea
cannot match the grandeur of your garden.
A circus of colors parades in your garden.
Highlighted, accented by alfalfa grass,
white, yellow, red waves rippling like the sea.
Misplaced carnations masquerade as pink roses,
fade against climbers reaching for sun.
Your summer rainbow, ready to bloom.
You stand among roses watching them bloom.
With scissors you take a bouquet from your garden.
White Knights burst forth, iridescent in sun.
Crimson Glories--elegant, above the grass.
You smell the fragrance of musky roses--
down by the fence grow buds you can't see.
But like Aphrodite who sprang from the sea
you lose your Adonis in summertime's blooms.
Yet the King's Ransom could not buy your roses--
Paradise is tangled, alive in your garden.
Your feet feel the earth, sympathize with the grass.
The Crown of your head tries to draw in the sun.
You brush against bushes as you walk in the sun.
Thorns prick at your clothing. Still you can't see
First Love flowering low in the grasses
or the sulky black roses waiting to bloom.
Orange and red blossoms overtake the garden.
They overwhelm when you stand in the roses.
You cut only the best of the roses,
trim every stem, take the buds from the sun,
examine the leaves of each bush in your garden,
pull Aphrodite from the foam of the sea.
Scissors snip, you catch the best bloom.
You lay all your prizes in line on the grass.
When the sun leaves your garden, you ache for the grass.
Each summer you ride on the wave of the bloom.
The roses return, like the foam of the sea.
You know the best rose grows here in your garden.
You stand back, watch the buds dance in sun
You have gathered your bouquet of roses.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Thursday Thirteen
Conservation easements
1) Conservation easements are supposed to protect special large tracts of land.
2) About 235 acres of this mountain was preserved in 2006. This is Tinker Mountain, and this wooded land is part of the Carvin's Cove watershed.
3. Carvins Cove, for those who don't know, is where the City of Roanoke gets it water.
4. The water comes from Tinker Creek, which Annie Dillard made famous in her book, A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.
5. Tinker Creek allegedly orginates, at least in part, on our farm from a spring which flows into two ponds.
6. Others have it orginating on land behind us, property that is now a subdivison.
7. Regardless, the streams which run together to form Tinker Creek have no name that I'm aware of.
8. On Tuesday, Virginia Governor Tim Kaine appeared at Hollins University to applaud my alma mater for helping procure the Tinker Mountain Easement.
9. The photo above is Governor Kaine talking to Hollins University President Nancy Gray.
10. Governor Kaine wants to preserve 400,000 acres of Virginia land during his four years in office.
11. So far, just over 100,000 has been preserved and he has three years to go.
12. Conservation easements are hard to sell to the old farmers.
13. That means that land like what you see below will probably one day be sprouting houses instead of crops.
1) Conservation easements are supposed to protect special large tracts of land.
2) About 235 acres of this mountain was preserved in 2006. This is Tinker Mountain, and this wooded land is part of the Carvin's Cove watershed.
3. Carvins Cove, for those who don't know, is where the City of Roanoke gets it water.
4. The water comes from Tinker Creek, which Annie Dillard made famous in her book, A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.
5. Tinker Creek allegedly orginates, at least in part, on our farm from a spring which flows into two ponds.
6. Others have it orginating on land behind us, property that is now a subdivison.
7. Regardless, the streams which run together to form Tinker Creek have no name that I'm aware of.
8. On Tuesday, Virginia Governor Tim Kaine appeared at Hollins University to applaud my alma mater for helping procure the Tinker Mountain Easement.
9. The photo above is Governor Kaine talking to Hollins University President Nancy Gray.
10. Governor Kaine wants to preserve 400,000 acres of Virginia land during his four years in office.
11. So far, just over 100,000 has been preserved and he has three years to go.
12. Conservation easements are hard to sell to the old farmers.
13. That means that land like what you see below will probably one day be sprouting houses instead of crops.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Press Release: Harvesting Veggies
NEWS RELEASE
For Immediate Release
1,000 VOLUNTEERS NEEDED
TO HARVEST VEGETABLES
One thousand volunteers are being recruited by the Volunteer Farm near Woodstock to harvest tons of vegetables from 28 acres to help feed some 100,000 hungry Virginians served monthly by the Blue Ridge Area Food Bank in 25 counties and nine cities.
“Before they rot in the fields, we must gather cantaloupe, onions, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and watermelons, and get them on the plates of our hungry neighbors,” said Bob Blair, CEO of the non-profit farm. “We need churches, civic organizations, schools, businesses, and families to send us volunteers to work about 4 hours in the mornings. We especially need help during weekday mornings, since the veggies are maturing each day.”
Volunteers can sign-up online at the Farm’s web: www.VolunteerFarm.Org. The “Calendar” shows the planned work for each day, number of volunteers needed, number already registered, thus showing the short falls. The web also provides directions to the farm, liability waiver, and background information.
For Immediate Release
1,000 VOLUNTEERS NEEDED
TO HARVEST VEGETABLES
One thousand volunteers are being recruited by the Volunteer Farm near Woodstock to harvest tons of vegetables from 28 acres to help feed some 100,000 hungry Virginians served monthly by the Blue Ridge Area Food Bank in 25 counties and nine cities.
“Before they rot in the fields, we must gather cantaloupe, onions, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and watermelons, and get them on the plates of our hungry neighbors,” said Bob Blair, CEO of the non-profit farm. “We need churches, civic organizations, schools, businesses, and families to send us volunteers to work about 4 hours in the mornings. We especially need help during weekday mornings, since the veggies are maturing each day.”
Volunteers can sign-up online at the Farm’s web: www.VolunteerFarm.Org. The “Calendar” shows the planned work for each day, number of volunteers needed, number already registered, thus showing the short falls. The web also provides directions to the farm, liability waiver, and background information.
Books: A list for the library
I cleared out my bookshelves. I have many books which are musty and therefore must leave me because they make me sneeze. Others are books I have read but simply don't care to keep anymore.
These books were donated to the library Monday:
Eating Well for Optimum Health
by Andrew Weil, MD
2.5 stars
The 8-Week Cholesterol Cure
by Robert Kowalski
2.5 stars
Dr. Atkins New Diet Revolution
by Robert C. Atkins, M.D.
4 stars
One Meal at a Time
By Martin Katahn, Ph.D.
2 stars
Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott
5 stars
Stories
by O. Henry
3.5 stars
The Ruins of California
by Martha Sherrill
3.5 stars
Still Water Saints
By Alex Espinoza
The Great Far Away
By Joan Frank
Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close
By Jonathan Safran Foer
Spring and Fall
by Nicholas DelBanco
The following books, also leaving here, I've never read. Either I just couldn't get into them, bought them and then forgot about them, or they were given to me, sent to me to review, or added to my "to read" pile and I just never touched them because they didn't appeal to me when I finally started digging into the pile. One of them, The Once and Future King, I'd really like to read but the book's too musty for me now. Allergies really are a pain.
Winter Rose by Patricia A. McKillip
The Emerald Swan, by Jane Feather
Heart Breaker, by Karen Robards
Firebird, by Janice Graham
Woman of the Frontier, by Zane Grey
Storm Warning, by Mercedes Lackey
Night-Threads, by Ru Emerson
The Once and Future King, by T. H. White
The Big Girls, by Susanna Moore
Ghost Dancer, by John Case
These books were donated to the library Monday:
Eating Well for Optimum Health
by Andrew Weil, MD
2.5 stars
The 8-Week Cholesterol Cure
by Robert Kowalski
2.5 stars
Dr. Atkins New Diet Revolution
by Robert C. Atkins, M.D.
4 stars
One Meal at a Time
By Martin Katahn, Ph.D.
2 stars
Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott
5 stars
Stories
by O. Henry
3.5 stars
The Ruins of California
by Martha Sherrill
3.5 stars
Still Water Saints
By Alex Espinoza
The Great Far Away
By Joan Frank
Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close
By Jonathan Safran Foer
Spring and Fall
by Nicholas DelBanco
The following books, also leaving here, I've never read. Either I just couldn't get into them, bought them and then forgot about them, or they were given to me, sent to me to review, or added to my "to read" pile and I just never touched them because they didn't appeal to me when I finally started digging into the pile. One of them, The Once and Future King, I'd really like to read but the book's too musty for me now. Allergies really are a pain.
Winter Rose by Patricia A. McKillip
The Emerald Swan, by Jane Feather
Heart Breaker, by Karen Robards
Firebird, by Janice Graham
Woman of the Frontier, by Zane Grey
Storm Warning, by Mercedes Lackey
Night-Threads, by Ru Emerson
The Once and Future King, by T. H. White
The Big Girls, by Susanna Moore
Ghost Dancer, by John Case
Monday, August 13, 2007
A new experience
I know the city dwellers will laugh at me, but last night we ordered pizza. And had it delivered.
This is a first. My first time ever having pizza delivered. I've gone for 44 years without having pizza brought to my door.
It is also rather sad because it is a good indicator of how close in the city has come to the country. We are now within delivery distance of pizza.
I can remember when there was nothing in Botetourt to speak of. The Cavalier Burger and Big-T. That was in the 1970s. Then came Pizza Hut along about 1979 or 1980. Then McDonalds, Burger King, Hardees . . . on it goes, the homogenization of the country. We now look just like every other area of the nation.
One big shopping mall and a McDs. Bye bye, county that I love. You're losing your identity just as sure as the sun sets and the moon is in the nighttime sky.
This is a first. My first time ever having pizza delivered. I've gone for 44 years without having pizza brought to my door.
It is also rather sad because it is a good indicator of how close in the city has come to the country. We are now within delivery distance of pizza.
I can remember when there was nothing in Botetourt to speak of. The Cavalier Burger and Big-T. That was in the 1970s. Then came Pizza Hut along about 1979 or 1980. Then McDonalds, Burger King, Hardees . . . on it goes, the homogenization of the country. We now look just like every other area of the nation.
One big shopping mall and a McDs. Bye bye, county that I love. You're losing your identity just as sure as the sun sets and the moon is in the nighttime sky.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Seeing Spots
These two fawns were in the backyard late last week; I shot the picture through the window in the garage. There were actually three babies out there, but I could not get the third one in the shot.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Still in Velvet
I shot this late yesterday afternoon as the sun was setting, using my Canon Powershot and the zoom. I had to creep around the side of the house and peer out from the corner.
This fellow seemed rather unconcerned about my antics, however. He posed quite nicely. It's not often you can catch them with the velvet still on their horns like this.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Books: Low Country
Low Country
By Anne Rivers Siddons
Audiobook Performed by Debra Monk
1998
I did not think I was going to enjoy this book when it began, but after a while I discovered I wanted to hear how it ended.
So after that slow start, things picked up. Caroline Venable is an artist who owns an island off South Carolina. Her husband is a wealthy plantation owner. They have one son, Carter, and a deceased daughter, Kylie.
Caroline has never gotten over her daughter's accidental death. She runs away to "her" island all the time. She drinks and paints. She also tends to some wild ponies and a black settlement called "Daybreak". This settlement is on her property but the folks have lived there for over 100 years and she doesn't ever plan to uproot them.
Then she learns her husband thinks otherwise. In order to save his fortune, he wants to turn her island into a resort.
Caroline then sets out to save what has become precious to her.
It's a tender story. I liked it.
3.25 stars
By Anne Rivers Siddons
Audiobook Performed by Debra Monk
1998
I did not think I was going to enjoy this book when it began, but after a while I discovered I wanted to hear how it ended.
So after that slow start, things picked up. Caroline Venable is an artist who owns an island off South Carolina. Her husband is a wealthy plantation owner. They have one son, Carter, and a deceased daughter, Kylie.
Caroline has never gotten over her daughter's accidental death. She runs away to "her" island all the time. She drinks and paints. She also tends to some wild ponies and a black settlement called "Daybreak". This settlement is on her property but the folks have lived there for over 100 years and she doesn't ever plan to uproot them.
Then she learns her husband thinks otherwise. In order to save his fortune, he wants to turn her island into a resort.
Caroline then sets out to save what has become precious to her.
It's a tender story. I liked it.
3.25 stars
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Thursday Thirteen
Ways to stay cool:
1) stay in the air conditioning
2) eat ice-cold watermelon
3) swim in the pool
4) swim in the creek (don't swim in the ponds unless they get fresh water!)
5) go to the mall
6) drive around in the air-conditioned vehicle
7) sit with ice on your feet
8) drink cold drinks
9) put a cold wet towel on your head
10) find a shady spot with a breeze
11) use a fan
12) stand with your arms out wide away from your body so that nothing touches
13) walk around in your birthday suit. Not recommended in public.
1) stay in the air conditioning
2) eat ice-cold watermelon
3) swim in the pool
4) swim in the creek (don't swim in the ponds unless they get fresh water!)
5) go to the mall
6) drive around in the air-conditioned vehicle
7) sit with ice on your feet
8) drink cold drinks
9) put a cold wet towel on your head
10) find a shady spot with a breeze
11) use a fan
12) stand with your arms out wide away from your body so that nothing touches
13) walk around in your birthday suit. Not recommended in public.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Wilted
Around 2:30 p.m., my thermometer said 102 degrees in the shade.
I happened to go outside and discovered my pansies had nearly given up the ghost from the heat.
A water hose to the rescue!
This is what they looked like several hours after I gave them a drink.
Tonight I watered all the plants around the house just as darkness fell. Roses, hen and chicks, snap dragons, marigolds, pansies, the garden - all received a drink. I think I could hear the sizzle as the water hit the leaves, because even at 9 p.m. it was still quite warm.
The air felt thick and stiff and off in the distance I heard a coyote howl. The hair on my arms stood up as I listened. In the woods I saw shadows of deer, their heads perked up and looking my way. I counted four before the shades vanished into the evening.
The garden yielded three ruby red tomatoes. They were warm and soft from the day's heat and I could smell them on my hands as I dropped them in my gathering bag. They were my only harvest on this day, for the zucchini has been mixed in its results, the yellow squash bloomed but gave nothing to eat, and the cucumbers seem done for the season already. The lettuce refused to head and instead went straight to seed.
All in all, not a good year for garden, but I have been grateful and happy for whatever we received. The cucumbers we did get were exceptionally good (so much better than anything in the store), and the tomatoes that managed to escape from the velvety lips of the deer have been sweet and succulent.
And now it's time to lay me down to sleep, so that my own wilted stalk can awaken refreshed in the morning.
Tonight I watered all the plants around the house just as darkness fell. Roses, hen and chicks, snap dragons, marigolds, pansies, the garden - all received a drink. I think I could hear the sizzle as the water hit the leaves, because even at 9 p.m. it was still quite warm.
The air felt thick and stiff and off in the distance I heard a coyote howl. The hair on my arms stood up as I listened. In the woods I saw shadows of deer, their heads perked up and looking my way. I counted four before the shades vanished into the evening.
The garden yielded three ruby red tomatoes. They were warm and soft from the day's heat and I could smell them on my hands as I dropped them in my gathering bag. They were my only harvest on this day, for the zucchini has been mixed in its results, the yellow squash bloomed but gave nothing to eat, and the cucumbers seem done for the season already. The lettuce refused to head and instead went straight to seed.
All in all, not a good year for garden, but I have been grateful and happy for whatever we received. The cucumbers we did get were exceptionally good (so much better than anything in the store), and the tomatoes that managed to escape from the velvety lips of the deer have been sweet and succulent.
And now it's time to lay me down to sleep, so that my own wilted stalk can awaken refreshed in the morning.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Wineberries
Colleen over at Loose Leaf Notes mentioned wineberries in today's entry.
I was immediately transported back to childhood.
Wineberries were the stuff of youth. My brother and I roamed the farm in search of those sweet yet tart berries.
They are some kind of wild raspberry, I suppose, but oh! so much better. Tangy and sweet and delicious. The berries are red and juicy and they draw your eye and then your hand and before you know it, that berry is in your mouth and you're drooling for the next one.
They grew wild down along a ravine near the lot where my parents kept horses. We weren't supposed to go there without an adult, because the horses, though tame, were quiet large compared to two small children.
Heedless of danger, we slipped through the fence and over to the berries. We carried a small dish, ostensibly to take some back home, but inevitably we ate twice as many as we took to my mother.
The berries peeled off the vine, leaving a yellow something behind. They were sticky and we never found enough of them for a pie or anything like that. They were definitely berries just for eating.
My mother did not know where we found the berries we brought back until one day we were out riding, my brother and I on a pony. He pointed to the ravine. "That's were we found the berries," he said.
Being the eldest, it was my responsibility to keep said brother out of trouble. Failing this, even though we were uninjured, I received a beating when we finished our ride.
The beating was for disobeying, I was told, and leading my brother astray.
Okay, so that memory turned a little rancid in the retelling... still, the berries were good. When I find them now, which is seldom, they never taste quite as sweet as they did then, when I was still young and innocent and a child of the 1970s.
I was immediately transported back to childhood.
Wineberries were the stuff of youth. My brother and I roamed the farm in search of those sweet yet tart berries.
They are some kind of wild raspberry, I suppose, but oh! so much better. Tangy and sweet and delicious. The berries are red and juicy and they draw your eye and then your hand and before you know it, that berry is in your mouth and you're drooling for the next one.
They grew wild down along a ravine near the lot where my parents kept horses. We weren't supposed to go there without an adult, because the horses, though tame, were quiet large compared to two small children.
Heedless of danger, we slipped through the fence and over to the berries. We carried a small dish, ostensibly to take some back home, but inevitably we ate twice as many as we took to my mother.
The berries peeled off the vine, leaving a yellow something behind. They were sticky and we never found enough of them for a pie or anything like that. They were definitely berries just for eating.
My mother did not know where we found the berries we brought back until one day we were out riding, my brother and I on a pony. He pointed to the ravine. "That's were we found the berries," he said.
Being the eldest, it was my responsibility to keep said brother out of trouble. Failing this, even though we were uninjured, I received a beating when we finished our ride.
The beating was for disobeying, I was told, and leading my brother astray.
Okay, so that memory turned a little rancid in the retelling... still, the berries were good. When I find them now, which is seldom, they never taste quite as sweet as they did then, when I was still young and innocent and a child of the 1970s.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Movie: Shenandoah
Shenandoah
1965
With Jimmy Stewart
We caught this old movie Friday night. Neither of us had ever seen it. I happened to have managed to be in charge of the remote for a time (this is unusual) and I stopped on it.
It's set not far from where I live, just up the valley. While I don't think it was filmed on location - that landscape certainly looked more Californian than Virginian to me - it was interesting to watch.
Charlie Anderson is a farmer who doesn't want to take sides in the Civil War. Then his youngest son is taken prisoner by a Yankee brigade. The movie really brought home how devastating war is on everyone, even those who want no part of it.
3.75 stars
1965
With Jimmy Stewart
We caught this old movie Friday night. Neither of us had ever seen it. I happened to have managed to be in charge of the remote for a time (this is unusual) and I stopped on it.
It's set not far from where I live, just up the valley. While I don't think it was filmed on location - that landscape certainly looked more Californian than Virginian to me - it was interesting to watch.
Charlie Anderson is a farmer who doesn't want to take sides in the Civil War. Then his youngest son is taken prisoner by a Yankee brigade. The movie really brought home how devastating war is on everyone, even those who want no part of it.
3.75 stars
Dead man talking
I found the following article online this morning and thought some of it quite profound. The fourth estate, as I grew up thinking of our newspapers, is pretty much gone and is only a puppet of government or corporations or both. It definitely is a slave to capitalism and not the muckracking, truth-telling, news-gathering expose it ought to be. The larger papers in particular often leave me wondering where the real news is and whose toes are being protected.
Because it certainly isn't yours or mine.
From the Illinois Times
POSTED ON AUGUST 2, 2007:
Dead man talking
I have seen the past, and it works
By Roland Klose
As a young reporter, Lincoln Steffens learned that successful police officers had a somewhat ambiguous relationship to the law. Here’s how it worked in some New York City precincts in the late 19th century: Criminal syndicates did a thriving business in age-old vices (gambling, prostitution, thievery) and the police protected them, as long as they stayed within certain limits. If rich man lost his wallet to pickpocket, a detective would call in a favor from his criminal associates, the victim’s goods were returned, and the cop looked like a crime-solving genius. ...
... For Steffens, a college-educated naïf, learning how some cops worked their beats helped launch him on a lifelong quest to understand the difference between the righteous and the sinners.
Eventually he’d write “The Shame of the Cities,” a magazine series about municipal corruption that made him famous. . . .
... I’m fascinated by Steffens and the other muckrakers of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, who showed what an aggressive, independent press could do. ...
... Steffens started his career, like many journalists, just plain curious about how things work. And he believed, as have many idealists, that simply exposing evil would be enough to kill it, like sunlight on mold. So he went about the business of exposing corruption and its consequences, and he named names....
... The idea that corruption was an urban phenomenon faded as he probed state governments. The belief that business was somehow more ethical or efficient than politics evaporated when reform-minded good-government businessmen took charge of cities and things became worse. ...
... On Wall Street, company presidents did not control — they were puppets of such tycoons as J.P. Morgan. In cities, it wasn’t the mayor who governed; he was a creature of the local political boss. And so it went with governors and congressmen and presidents and, yes, even newspaper editors and publishers.
Steffens recounted what he told one boss about political corruption: “It is not a temporary evil, not an accidental wickedness, not a passing symptom of the youth of a people. It is a natural process by which a democracy is made gradually into a plutocracy” — government of the people becomes government for the wealthy. ...
Steffens represents modern American journalism at its start, a time of hellraising and optimism and discovery.
Sometimes I feel as though I’m witnessing the end.
Newspapers where I spent most of my adult life are circling the drain — the consequence of years of betrayal by owners who sucked ungodly profits from their operations. Most news organizations today are gripped by fear; if they’re not cutting back, they’re selling out.....
Because it certainly isn't yours or mine.
From the Illinois Times
POSTED ON AUGUST 2, 2007:
Dead man talking
I have seen the past, and it works
By Roland Klose
As a young reporter, Lincoln Steffens learned that successful police officers had a somewhat ambiguous relationship to the law. Here’s how it worked in some New York City precincts in the late 19th century: Criminal syndicates did a thriving business in age-old vices (gambling, prostitution, thievery) and the police protected them, as long as they stayed within certain limits. If rich man lost his wallet to pickpocket, a detective would call in a favor from his criminal associates, the victim’s goods were returned, and the cop looked like a crime-solving genius. ...
... For Steffens, a college-educated naïf, learning how some cops worked their beats helped launch him on a lifelong quest to understand the difference between the righteous and the sinners.
Eventually he’d write “The Shame of the Cities,” a magazine series about municipal corruption that made him famous. . . .
... I’m fascinated by Steffens and the other muckrakers of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, who showed what an aggressive, independent press could do. ...
... Steffens started his career, like many journalists, just plain curious about how things work. And he believed, as have many idealists, that simply exposing evil would be enough to kill it, like sunlight on mold. So he went about the business of exposing corruption and its consequences, and he named names....
... The idea that corruption was an urban phenomenon faded as he probed state governments. The belief that business was somehow more ethical or efficient than politics evaporated when reform-minded good-government businessmen took charge of cities and things became worse. ...
... On Wall Street, company presidents did not control — they were puppets of such tycoons as J.P. Morgan. In cities, it wasn’t the mayor who governed; he was a creature of the local political boss. And so it went with governors and congressmen and presidents and, yes, even newspaper editors and publishers.
Steffens recounted what he told one boss about political corruption: “It is not a temporary evil, not an accidental wickedness, not a passing symptom of the youth of a people. It is a natural process by which a democracy is made gradually into a plutocracy” — government of the people becomes government for the wealthy. ...
Steffens represents modern American journalism at its start, a time of hellraising and optimism and discovery.
Sometimes I feel as though I’m witnessing the end.
Newspapers where I spent most of my adult life are circling the drain — the consequence of years of betrayal by owners who sucked ungodly profits from their operations. Most news organizations today are gripped by fear; if they’re not cutting back, they’re selling out.....
Saturday, August 04, 2007
On Salem
Today I had occasion to drive through Salem as I ventured from Tanglewood to Richfield. I did some (very) early morning shopping, scoring nice bargains, before heading to visit my Great Aunt Susie at the retirement home.
I drove down East Riverside Drive. This road runs along the Roanoke River. It is not as wild-looking as it was when I was child. Then there were more trees.
My grandmother until 1992 lived across from the river in a house which still stands and remains occupied. Several of the homes have been torn down and the rest are supposed to be, I think, because they are flooded out frequently.
My grandmother's house flooded badly in 1972, during Hurricane Agnes and in 1985. It flooded one other time but I don't remember the event. Hurricane Camille, perhaps?
Anyway, the house looked much smaller than I remember. It is only about 1,000 square feet - not much for raising six children. But I have most of my fondest childhood memories storied in that house.
Grandma rocking me. Playing with superhero dolls (I was never much on girly baby dolls, I liked to play with Johnny West and GI Joe and when the superhero dolls like Wonderwoman came out, I adored those).
During the summer my grandmother would walk us up to downtown Salem. Salem them actually looked like a small town, not a junk heap like it does now (I know Salemites have great pride in their town, but honestly, looking in from the outside, it isn't what it used to be).
We'd go to Brooks Byrd Pharmacy for a snowcone. Yum. Then we'd tour Newberry's, which was a precursor to Walmart, I guess. A five and dime. It was the most delicious place, full of toys and smells. We'd spend our quarter (or 50 cents) on something like a balsam wood glider airplane (though I always liked the ones with a propeller) or a paddleball. When they started making "monster models" we all bought those and filled the basement with tiny plastic replicas of Dracula and the Wolfman.
There was a cafeteria uptown somewhere (Tarpley's, maybe? or was it Newberry's, too?) and if we were *very* good we could have pie or pudding. On the walk back, we'd stop off at various relatives and chat.
Because my grandmother's family, you see, pretty much owned a lot of Salem at one time, including the land where the hospital sits, some generations back. Or so I have been told. I don't know where the money went, but the relatives are there all over the place.
I enjoyed my drive down East Riverside Drive. I liked remembering, especially since it's not been so long since my grandmother's funeral.
It was a little like going to see her. I can almost feel her eyes on me and hear her voice calling to me in greeting, saying, "It's my granddaughter! You've made my day."
I drove down East Riverside Drive. This road runs along the Roanoke River. It is not as wild-looking as it was when I was child. Then there were more trees.
My grandmother until 1992 lived across from the river in a house which still stands and remains occupied. Several of the homes have been torn down and the rest are supposed to be, I think, because they are flooded out frequently.
My grandmother's house flooded badly in 1972, during Hurricane Agnes and in 1985. It flooded one other time but I don't remember the event. Hurricane Camille, perhaps?
Anyway, the house looked much smaller than I remember. It is only about 1,000 square feet - not much for raising six children. But I have most of my fondest childhood memories storied in that house.
Grandma rocking me. Playing with superhero dolls (I was never much on girly baby dolls, I liked to play with Johnny West and GI Joe and when the superhero dolls like Wonderwoman came out, I adored those).
During the summer my grandmother would walk us up to downtown Salem. Salem them actually looked like a small town, not a junk heap like it does now (I know Salemites have great pride in their town, but honestly, looking in from the outside, it isn't what it used to be).
We'd go to Brooks Byrd Pharmacy for a snowcone. Yum. Then we'd tour Newberry's, which was a precursor to Walmart, I guess. A five and dime. It was the most delicious place, full of toys and smells. We'd spend our quarter (or 50 cents) on something like a balsam wood glider airplane (though I always liked the ones with a propeller) or a paddleball. When they started making "monster models" we all bought those and filled the basement with tiny plastic replicas of Dracula and the Wolfman.
There was a cafeteria uptown somewhere (Tarpley's, maybe? or was it Newberry's, too?) and if we were *very* good we could have pie or pudding. On the walk back, we'd stop off at various relatives and chat.
Because my grandmother's family, you see, pretty much owned a lot of Salem at one time, including the land where the hospital sits, some generations back. Or so I have been told. I don't know where the money went, but the relatives are there all over the place.
I enjoyed my drive down East Riverside Drive. I liked remembering, especially since it's not been so long since my grandmother's funeral.
It was a little like going to see her. I can almost feel her eyes on me and hear her voice calling to me in greeting, saying, "It's my granddaughter! You've made my day."
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Random Quotes
From pages 18 in nearby magazines, books, and papers, the sentence dealing with line 22:
"In many cases, there were duplicate services being offered less than two miles away from each other." - OurHealth magazine, July/August 2007 edition (actually page 19, as 18 was a visual ad).
"Bethesda MD 20814" - The Fincastle Herald, newspaper, Aug. 1, 2007 edition
"Sprinkle a little kitty litter in your ashtrays to help absorb the smokey smell from extinguished cigarettes." - All You magazine Aug. 3 edition
"Purchase will not improve your chances of winning. Sweepstakes open to legal residents age 21 and older of hte U.S., its territories and posessions." - Reader's Digest, magazine, August 2007.
"A gym shoe was used to administer punishment INFLICT, mete out, deal out, deliver" - Oxford American Writer's Thesaurus
"Those wanting to go southward took the Carolina Road which follows somewhat the present U.S. Route No. 220." - A Seedbed of the Republic
***
None of the above has anything to do with anything, except all of these books were within an arm's reach of my desk.
"In many cases, there were duplicate services being offered less than two miles away from each other." - OurHealth magazine, July/August 2007 edition (actually page 19, as 18 was a visual ad).
"Bethesda MD 20814" - The Fincastle Herald, newspaper, Aug. 1, 2007 edition
"Sprinkle a little kitty litter in your ashtrays to help absorb the smokey smell from extinguished cigarettes." - All You magazine Aug. 3 edition
"Purchase will not improve your chances of winning. Sweepstakes open to legal residents age 21 and older of hte U.S., its territories and posessions." - Reader's Digest, magazine, August 2007.
"A gym shoe was used to administer punishment INFLICT, mete out, deal out, deliver" - Oxford American Writer's Thesaurus
"Those wanting to go southward took the Carolina Road which follows somewhat the present U.S. Route No. 220." - A Seedbed of the Republic
***
None of the above has anything to do with anything, except all of these books were within an arm's reach of my desk.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Books: Sheer Abandon
Sheer Abandon
by Penny Vincenzi
Copyright 2007
From Publishers Weekly:
... In 1985, three young British women meet in a Heathrow departure lounge en route to precollege sojourns. One of them, upon her return to England, secretly gives birth and abandons the baby in a cleaning supplies closet at the airport ... The mystery of who her mother is serves as the spine of this fat, satisfying novel, and Vincenzi creates multiple intrigues around the three women ... It's 16 years before they all meet again, and Baby Bianca has matured into a stunning blonde teen, Kate ... The various narrative themes crescendo through several all-hands-on-deck scenes, including a swank party where daughter almost meets mother, and a packed funeral where someone figures out who the father is.
My vote:
3.5 stars
by Penny Vincenzi
Copyright 2007
From Publishers Weekly:
... In 1985, three young British women meet in a Heathrow departure lounge en route to precollege sojourns. One of them, upon her return to England, secretly gives birth and abandons the baby in a cleaning supplies closet at the airport ... The mystery of who her mother is serves as the spine of this fat, satisfying novel, and Vincenzi creates multiple intrigues around the three women ... It's 16 years before they all meet again, and Baby Bianca has matured into a stunning blonde teen, Kate ... The various narrative themes crescendo through several all-hands-on-deck scenes, including a swank party where daughter almost meets mother, and a packed funeral where someone figures out who the father is.
My vote:
3.5 stars
Monday, July 30, 2007
Books: The Wizard's Daughter
The Wizard's Daughter
By Barbara Michaels
Read by Norma West
Copyright 1998
Generally speaking I enjoy Barbara Michaels (aka Elizabeth Peters). I have always found the gothic romance novels to be lots of fun reading.
In this book, Marianne is orphaned and sent out into the world. She's a gentleman's daughter who has no idea what is happening around her. Her parentage is called into question and a Duchess takes her in. The Duchess believes she is the daughter of a man who held seances and such.
Eventually we learn that the mysteries of the great beyond can be (mostly) be explained, and greed is, as usual, the reason for the duplicity and shenanigans.
The book was okay, but it did not hold my attention as well as I expected it to. Marianne came across as pretty silly sometimes.
2 stars
By Barbara Michaels
Read by Norma West
Copyright 1998
Generally speaking I enjoy Barbara Michaels (aka Elizabeth Peters). I have always found the gothic romance novels to be lots of fun reading.
In this book, Marianne is orphaned and sent out into the world. She's a gentleman's daughter who has no idea what is happening around her. Her parentage is called into question and a Duchess takes her in. The Duchess believes she is the daughter of a man who held seances and such.
Eventually we learn that the mysteries of the great beyond can be (mostly) be explained, and greed is, as usual, the reason for the duplicity and shenanigans.
The book was okay, but it did not hold my attention as well as I expected it to. Marianne came across as pretty silly sometimes.
2 stars
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Family Reunion
Today was the "family reunion." This is my maternal grandfather's side of the family.
When we arrived, it looked like few would attend, but by the time we left at 1:30 p.m., there was about 60 people there.
Most of them are related on Aunt Ruth's side. Aunt Ruth is my great-aunt, my grandfather's sister.
My grandfather died in 1976 at the age of 56 (the same age as my mother, his daughter, actually). He had a heart attack. He worked for Kroger and was about 2 months short of drawing some particular kind of benefit, even though he'd been there for 30 years; at any rate, my grandmother received nothing from the grocery chain and we all stopped shopping there. My grandmother brought up her last two boys on Social Security.
Aunt Ruth used to own a hotel and diner in Elliston called the Blue Jay. We used to pile in the car and go up there for Sunday breakfasts. I loved the blueberry pancakes.
So I went to see Aunt Ruth, who is 90. She lives about 100 miles away and I don't see her often. I talk to her on the phone about twice a year. I have a fondness for her, I think because of the pancakes...
Anyway, I know few of the cousins that I see at these reunions. Never have I "hit it off" with one of them, a fact that leaves me scratching my head. Shouldn't at least one of them become my bosom buddy? But I guess not. We're quite varied in age, for one thing, as well as geographical location.
My grandfather has one other sibling still living: Uncle Max. I didn't even know Uncle Max existed until a few years ago when he came to one of the reunions. Apparently he and my grandfather had a falling-out and I never met him until 40 years later. He seems like a very nice man.
There were many siblings in my grandfather's family - Roy, Ruby, Clara, Charlie ... possibly others. I am thinking there were eight of them so I am leaving someone out if that is the case.
My grandfather has six children; my mother was the eldest. My mother had two children; I am the eldest.
I have no children. The line stops here. Well, not really, because my brother has two kids.
I am rambling so I will stop now.
When we arrived, it looked like few would attend, but by the time we left at 1:30 p.m., there was about 60 people there.
Most of them are related on Aunt Ruth's side. Aunt Ruth is my great-aunt, my grandfather's sister.
My grandfather died in 1976 at the age of 56 (the same age as my mother, his daughter, actually). He had a heart attack. He worked for Kroger and was about 2 months short of drawing some particular kind of benefit, even though he'd been there for 30 years; at any rate, my grandmother received nothing from the grocery chain and we all stopped shopping there. My grandmother brought up her last two boys on Social Security.
Aunt Ruth used to own a hotel and diner in Elliston called the Blue Jay. We used to pile in the car and go up there for Sunday breakfasts. I loved the blueberry pancakes.
So I went to see Aunt Ruth, who is 90. She lives about 100 miles away and I don't see her often. I talk to her on the phone about twice a year. I have a fondness for her, I think because of the pancakes...
Anyway, I know few of the cousins that I see at these reunions. Never have I "hit it off" with one of them, a fact that leaves me scratching my head. Shouldn't at least one of them become my bosom buddy? But I guess not. We're quite varied in age, for one thing, as well as geographical location.
My grandfather has one other sibling still living: Uncle Max. I didn't even know Uncle Max existed until a few years ago when he came to one of the reunions. Apparently he and my grandfather had a falling-out and I never met him until 40 years later. He seems like a very nice man.
There were many siblings in my grandfather's family - Roy, Ruby, Clara, Charlie ... possibly others. I am thinking there were eight of them so I am leaving someone out if that is the case.
My grandfather has six children; my mother was the eldest. My mother had two children; I am the eldest.
I have no children. The line stops here. Well, not really, because my brother has two kids.
I am rambling so I will stop now.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
The Barn
This barn has stood on Rose Hill Farm since 1860. That's the date found cut into the logs on this side of the structure.
The barn was covered with clapboard and had been used up until a few years ago. This side of the barn began falling in as the logs slipped from the foundation and it became unsafe.
My father-in-law owns the barn. He listed it for sale in the paper. Someone purchased it and will move it to Bent Mountain, as I understand it, to make a log cabin of it.
These are the logs with the date "1860" carved in it. Below is the name E. E. Shaw 1901, which must be the date something was added.
Most likely the barn was built by Henry Bolton, who purchased the property in 1859. He is buried in a cemetery on the farm.
The house that stands on the land was built prior t0 1816 and is made of bricks allegedly made from slave labor on the farm.
Movie: Little Miss Sunshine
Little Miss Sunshine is a movie about a very dysfunctional family who wants to take their daughter 900 miles away to a beauty contest.
There really is a Little Miss Sunshine contest. I know this because my niece has won the one around here. Several times.
Anyway, this movie won two Oscars in 2006. Which is way better than winning a beauty contest, I bet.
The movie was billed as a comedy but I did not find it funny. I considered it a drama. It was rather engaging and I enjoyed watching Steve Carrell (sp?) in something other than a stupid movie such as 40-year old Virgin. He is a pretty good actor when he isn't sticking something up his nose or whatever.
3 stars
There really is a Little Miss Sunshine contest. I know this because my niece has won the one around here. Several times.
Anyway, this movie won two Oscars in 2006. Which is way better than winning a beauty contest, I bet.
The movie was billed as a comedy but I did not find it funny. I considered it a drama. It was rather engaging and I enjoyed watching Steve Carrell (sp?) in something other than a stupid movie such as 40-year old Virgin. He is a pretty good actor when he isn't sticking something up his nose or whatever.
3 stars
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Movie: Chuck and Larry
Last night we saw Chuck and Larry at the the theater. Since my husband is a fireman, it apparently was must-see. We went with a bunch of fire-fighting friends.
I think Husband found it amusing but I laughed only twice during the entire two hours.
The movie was stereoptypical, mean, and based on an unbelievable premise. Potty humor never has really appealed to me.
2 stars
I think Husband found it amusing but I laughed only twice during the entire two hours.
The movie was stereoptypical, mean, and based on an unbelievable premise. Potty humor never has really appealed to me.
2 stars
Thursday Thirteen
Recently announced - the release of limited-edition Barbie Dolls for the Roanoke market:
1) HUNTING HILLS BARBIE: This princess Barbie is sold only at Neiman Marcus, usually purchased online, (closest Neiman Marcus is at Tyson's Corners in Fairfax .) She comes with an assortment of Louis Vuitton handbags, a leased Lexus SUV, a long-haired foreign dog named Honey and a house larger than she and Ken can afford. Available with or without tummy tuck and face lift. Workaholic Ken, M.D. sold only in conjunction with the augmented version.
2) CAVE SPRING BARBIE: The modern day homemaker Barbie is available with Ford Wind star Minivan and matching gym outfit. She gets lost easily and has no full-time occupation. Traffic jamming cell phone sold separately. Her idea of a shopping spree is to be a contestant on The Price is Right.
3) SOUTHEAST BARBIE: This recently paroled Barbie comes with a 9mm handgun, a Ray Lewis knife, a Chevy with dark tinted windows, and a Meth Lab Kit. This model is only available after dark and must be paid for in cash (preferably small, untraceable bills) ... unless you are a cop, then we don't know what you are talking about.
4) SOUTH ROANOKE BARBIE: This yuppie Barbie comes with your choice of a BMW convertible or Hummer H2. Included are her own Starbucks cup, maxed-out credit card and country club membership. Also available for this set are Shallow Ken and Private School Skipper. Barbie won't be able to afford any of them.
5) GARDEN CITY BARBIE: This pale model comes dressed in her own Wrangler jeans two sizes too small, a NASCAR t-shirt and tweety bird tattoo on her shoulder. She has a six-pack of Bud light and a Hank Williams Jr. CD set. She can spit over 5 feet and kick mullet-haired Ken's butt when she is drunk. Purchase her pickup truck separately and get a confederate flag bumper sticker absolutely free.
6)RALEIGH COURT BARBIE: This collagen injected, rhino plastic Barbie wears a leopard print outfit and drinks cosmopolitans while entertaining friends. Percocet prescription available as well as full-season (yearly) subscription to The Grandin Theatre and the Roanoker magazine.
7) BEDFORD COUNTY BARBIE: This tobacco-chewing, brassy-haired Barbie has a pair of her own high-heeled sandals with one broken heel from the time she chased beer-gutted Ken out of Barbie's house. Her ensemble includes low-rise a cid-washed jeans, fake fingernails, and a see-through halter-top. Let's not forget the a*s tattoo and thong. Also available with a mobile home.
8) OLD SOUTHWEST BARBIE: This doll is made of actual tofu. She has long straight brown hair, arch-less feet, hairy armpits, no makeup and Birkenstocks with white socks. She prefers that you call her Willow . She does not want or need a Ken doll, but if you purchase two Old Southwest Barbies and the optional Subaru wagon, you get a rainbow flag bumper sticker for free.
9) NORTHWEST CITY BARBIE: This Barbie now comes with a stroller and infant doll. Optional accessories include a GED and bus pass. Gangsta Ken and his 1979 Caddy were available, but are now very difficult to find since the addition of her second child of questionable heritage.
10) SOUTHERN BOTETOURT BARBIE: This Barbie comes complete with Soccer Mom outfit of white pants and shirt and tennis shoes and one set of clothing for shopping at Kroger. Mini-van accessory for toting kids to the Sports Complex optional. Blue Collar Ken comes complete with lunch pail, coveralls and sports suit for those "dress up" days.
11) ASHLEY PLANTATION BARBIE: This Barbie comes complete with Barbie's Mansion Home. Certificate of Mortgage with $3,500 house payment comes with the dollhouse. Furniture is optional; Hummer2 for front driveway required. Ashley Plantation Swim Club membership included. Completely interchangeable with the SOUTH ROANOKE BARBIE Shallow Ken and Private School Skipper set.
12) NORTH BOTETOURT BARBIE: This blue-jeaned Barbie comes with unkempt hair and a screaming toddler on her hip; Farmer Ken optional but suggested. Barbie's Run-Down Farmhouse comes complete with horse, cow, chickens and a 10-year old Ford pickup truck. Barbie fashion accessories include hair barretts, bright red false fingernails, T-shirts and halter tops and a cassette of country music.
13) CRAIG COUNTY BARBIE: This Barbie comes dressed in the Confederate Flag with optional sheet to pull over her head. Barbie and Tobacco-Spitting Ken doll come with a fold-out farm with a mobile home for their little ones. UFO background set available. Must-have additions include the 1959 Farm Tractor, the broken-down Volkswagon, and the garden full of marijuna plants that borders the National Forest.
*Note: Most of these were sent to me in an e-mail; I only added a couple to make it to 13).
1) HUNTING HILLS BARBIE: This princess Barbie is sold only at Neiman Marcus, usually purchased online, (closest Neiman Marcus is at Tyson's Corners in Fairfax .) She comes with an assortment of Louis Vuitton handbags, a leased Lexus SUV, a long-haired foreign dog named Honey and a house larger than she and Ken can afford. Available with or without tummy tuck and face lift. Workaholic Ken, M.D. sold only in conjunction with the augmented version.
2) CAVE SPRING BARBIE: The modern day homemaker Barbie is available with Ford Wind star Minivan and matching gym outfit. She gets lost easily and has no full-time occupation. Traffic jamming cell phone sold separately. Her idea of a shopping spree is to be a contestant on The Price is Right.
3) SOUTHEAST BARBIE: This recently paroled Barbie comes with a 9mm handgun, a Ray Lewis knife, a Chevy with dark tinted windows, and a Meth Lab Kit. This model is only available after dark and must be paid for in cash (preferably small, untraceable bills) ... unless you are a cop, then we don't know what you are talking about.
4) SOUTH ROANOKE BARBIE: This yuppie Barbie comes with your choice of a BMW convertible or Hummer H2. Included are her own Starbucks cup, maxed-out credit card and country club membership. Also available for this set are Shallow Ken and Private School Skipper. Barbie won't be able to afford any of them.
5) GARDEN CITY BARBIE: This pale model comes dressed in her own Wrangler jeans two sizes too small, a NASCAR t-shirt and tweety bird tattoo on her shoulder. She has a six-pack of Bud light and a Hank Williams Jr. CD set. She can spit over 5 feet and kick mullet-haired Ken's butt when she is drunk. Purchase her pickup truck separately and get a confederate flag bumper sticker absolutely free.
6)RALEIGH COURT BARBIE: This collagen injected, rhino plastic Barbie wears a leopard print outfit and drinks cosmopolitans while entertaining friends. Percocet prescription available as well as full-season (yearly) subscription to The Grandin Theatre and the Roanoker magazine.
7) BEDFORD COUNTY BARBIE: This tobacco-chewing, brassy-haired Barbie has a pair of her own high-heeled sandals with one broken heel from the time she chased beer-gutted Ken out of Barbie's house. Her ensemble includes low-rise a cid-washed jeans, fake fingernails, and a see-through halter-top. Let's not forget the a*s tattoo and thong. Also available with a mobile home.
8) OLD SOUTHWEST BARBIE: This doll is made of actual tofu. She has long straight brown hair, arch-less feet, hairy armpits, no makeup and Birkenstocks with white socks. She prefers that you call her Willow . She does not want or need a Ken doll, but if you purchase two Old Southwest Barbies and the optional Subaru wagon, you get a rainbow flag bumper sticker for free.
9) NORTHWEST CITY BARBIE: This Barbie now comes with a stroller and infant doll. Optional accessories include a GED and bus pass. Gangsta Ken and his 1979 Caddy were available, but are now very difficult to find since the addition of her second child of questionable heritage.
10) SOUTHERN BOTETOURT BARBIE: This Barbie comes complete with Soccer Mom outfit of white pants and shirt and tennis shoes and one set of clothing for shopping at Kroger. Mini-van accessory for toting kids to the Sports Complex optional. Blue Collar Ken comes complete with lunch pail, coveralls and sports suit for those "dress up" days.
11) ASHLEY PLANTATION BARBIE: This Barbie comes complete with Barbie's Mansion Home. Certificate of Mortgage with $3,500 house payment comes with the dollhouse. Furniture is optional; Hummer2 for front driveway required. Ashley Plantation Swim Club membership included. Completely interchangeable with the SOUTH ROANOKE BARBIE Shallow Ken and Private School Skipper set.
12) NORTH BOTETOURT BARBIE: This blue-jeaned Barbie comes with unkempt hair and a screaming toddler on her hip; Farmer Ken optional but suggested. Barbie's Run-Down Farmhouse comes complete with horse, cow, chickens and a 10-year old Ford pickup truck. Barbie fashion accessories include hair barretts, bright red false fingernails, T-shirts and halter tops and a cassette of country music.
13) CRAIG COUNTY BARBIE: This Barbie comes dressed in the Confederate Flag with optional sheet to pull over her head. Barbie and Tobacco-Spitting Ken doll come with a fold-out farm with a mobile home for their little ones. UFO background set available. Must-have additions include the 1959 Farm Tractor, the broken-down Volkswagon, and the garden full of marijuna plants that borders the National Forest.
*Note: Most of these were sent to me in an e-mail; I only added a couple to make it to 13).
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The Pot of Gold
Yesterday morning we had a storm. At 8 a.m. I glanced out and saw that the end of the rainbow was very nearly in my front yard.
If you look closely you can the change of light in the cedar trees where the rainbow kisses the earth.
I found no pot of gold, but I did get a nice picture.
I see the birds are migrating; flocks are flying over or landing in the fields for a feast on our bugs. The bugs have been terrible this year - Japanese beetles and aphids have nearly overtaken the rose garden. The alfalfa field has suffered brutally from the insects and the lack of rain.
We've had several fawns running around the place, too.
It occurs to me that while we aren't rich in the least in the financial sense, we are very wealthy in other definitions of the word. We have love, we have nature, we have rainbows.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Analyzing Harry Potter
I promise this is my last Harry Potter entry for a while.
There may be Book 7 spoilers in here, so if you haven't yet read Book 7 and don't want to know anything (though I can't imagine there are many people left on the internet who haven't stumbled over something about the book), you may want to move along.
Being a writer myself, I have been curious about the popularity of these books. So as I read I attempted to make a brief and unfocused study on the subject.
So here goes nothing.
This is a QUEST series. The entire thing is one long quest - to rid the world of Voldemort. Each book has a quest within, a smaller quest that helps the larger one.
There are also MYSTERIES in each book, with clues to unravel and points to ponder.
Rowling keeps to POINT OF VIEW. Her hero is Harry, and everything is revealed as Harry learns it. No omniscient narrator, no getting into Hermione's head. This is all about Harry.
While this may be a failing for someone who is happier with the other characters than with Harry, for this series, it works well, and Rowling is quite adept at it. Fantasy allows her to create methods like the Pensieve that allows her to be in the minds of others without leaving Harry's point of view. That is ingenious, I must say.
It does, however, give a one-sided notion of the other characters. Hermione, for example, comes across as rather one dimensional at times, not because the character truly is that way but because the reader only sees her through Harry's eyes and that is how *he* sees her. Harry worships Dumbledore, and thus the reader sees Dumbledore as Harry does. However, we learn later that Dumbledore is multi-faceted and not entirely blameless.
I think the POINT OF VIEW is very important. As a book reviewer, I can't tell you how many books I've written that were in first person, then suddenly in third, or in limited omniscient and suddenly . . . not. As a reader, I always find it very frustrating to "suddenly" have a point of view switch.
Next, this book is not original, not really. There are a great number of characteristics of The Lord of the Rings in this series. For example:
one focal character - Harry/Frodo (0r Aragorn, I could argue this both ways)
an entourage - Hermione and Ron/The Fellowship
a mentoring wizard with ulterior motives - Dumbledore/Gandolf
evil wizards - Voldemort/Sauron (sp)
getting rid of something bad - the ring/horcruxes
lack of attention to the feminine - both books
orphaned hero - Harry/Frodo (although Frodo's parentage is never really called into question, they're not central to the TLOTR; his lack of ties, however, is crucial to the ring quest, I think)
There are other things, I feel sure, if I wanted to sit down and take the books and compare them in greater depth.
Finally, there is the language, which is certainly different for TLOTR and Harry Potter. The Lord of the Rings is definitely a harder series of books. The language is more difficult in those books.
Harry Potter was written for readers with a sixth grade education. I think this matters in writing, too. If you write for an older group, you limit your audience to that group.
So, I have reached no real conclusions, but I have gotten all of that off my mind. How this will help me write my own book, I have no idea, but there it is.
There may be Book 7 spoilers in here, so if you haven't yet read Book 7 and don't want to know anything (though I can't imagine there are many people left on the internet who haven't stumbled over something about the book), you may want to move along.
Being a writer myself, I have been curious about the popularity of these books. So as I read I attempted to make a brief and unfocused study on the subject.
So here goes nothing.
This is a QUEST series. The entire thing is one long quest - to rid the world of Voldemort. Each book has a quest within, a smaller quest that helps the larger one.
There are also MYSTERIES in each book, with clues to unravel and points to ponder.
Rowling keeps to POINT OF VIEW. Her hero is Harry, and everything is revealed as Harry learns it. No omniscient narrator, no getting into Hermione's head. This is all about Harry.
While this may be a failing for someone who is happier with the other characters than with Harry, for this series, it works well, and Rowling is quite adept at it. Fantasy allows her to create methods like the Pensieve that allows her to be in the minds of others without leaving Harry's point of view. That is ingenious, I must say.
It does, however, give a one-sided notion of the other characters. Hermione, for example, comes across as rather one dimensional at times, not because the character truly is that way but because the reader only sees her through Harry's eyes and that is how *he* sees her. Harry worships Dumbledore, and thus the reader sees Dumbledore as Harry does. However, we learn later that Dumbledore is multi-faceted and not entirely blameless.
I think the POINT OF VIEW is very important. As a book reviewer, I can't tell you how many books I've written that were in first person, then suddenly in third, or in limited omniscient and suddenly . . . not. As a reader, I always find it very frustrating to "suddenly" have a point of view switch.
Next, this book is not original, not really. There are a great number of characteristics of The Lord of the Rings in this series. For example:
one focal character - Harry/Frodo (0r Aragorn, I could argue this both ways)
an entourage - Hermione and Ron/The Fellowship
a mentoring wizard with ulterior motives - Dumbledore/Gandolf
evil wizards - Voldemort/Sauron (sp)
getting rid of something bad - the ring/horcruxes
lack of attention to the feminine - both books
orphaned hero - Harry/Frodo (although Frodo's parentage is never really called into question, they're not central to the TLOTR; his lack of ties, however, is crucial to the ring quest, I think)
There are other things, I feel sure, if I wanted to sit down and take the books and compare them in greater depth.
Finally, there is the language, which is certainly different for TLOTR and Harry Potter. The Lord of the Rings is definitely a harder series of books. The language is more difficult in those books.
Harry Potter was written for readers with a sixth grade education. I think this matters in writing, too. If you write for an older group, you limit your audience to that group.
So, I have reached no real conclusions, but I have gotten all of that off my mind. How this will help me write my own book, I have no idea, but there it is.
Books: Harry Potter & the Half Blood Prince
I reread book 6 in the Harry Potter series last week in order to remember what was going on when I read book 7. I think it greatly enhanced my enjoyment of Book 7.
Book 6 has a lot of back story. Not much action, really, until the end of the book. Then things start happening.
The worst part of Book 6 is the death of Dumbledore near the end.
3.75 stars
Book 6 has a lot of back story. Not much action, really, until the end of the book. Then things start happening.
The worst part of Book 6 is the death of Dumbledore near the end.
3.75 stars
Movies: Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix
We took in the fifth Harry Potter movie on July 19.
Seeing as it was based on the book of the same name, I wasn't expecting much action. That book did not have as much going for it as I would have liked. It was, I think, a kind of a fill-in book, a way to age Harry or something.
Anyway, the movie was so-so. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire was definitely a better fim.
The children have grown and are young adults. Unfortunately for the fellow who plays Harry, it was very obvious. The young man definitely needed a shave . . .
2.5 stars
Seeing as it was based on the book of the same name, I wasn't expecting much action. That book did not have as much going for it as I would have liked. It was, I think, a kind of a fill-in book, a way to age Harry or something.
Anyway, the movie was so-so. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire was definitely a better fim.
The children have grown and are young adults. Unfortunately for the fellow who plays Harry, it was very obvious. The young man definitely needed a shave . . .
2.5 stars
Recalled Products
This is getting ridiculous. First I have to cull peanut butter from my shelves and now my hot dog chili can cause botulism.
I am 44 years old, and up until the last two years, I do not recall these issues with food items ever being this bad in this country. We used to have safety standards.
I know there are people out there who don't want to blame the current administration for these problems, but tell me, if it hasn't been a problem before but it is now, where else would you look?
Obviously the lessening of regulations, and/or the lack of people to make sure existing regulations are adhered to, is behind this. Corporations do *not* police themselves, and people and pets should not have to die to put commonsense precautions in place.
The public seems to be getting what it's asking for. Less taxes (though not really), little regulation, a free-for-all resulting in a magnficient divide between the rich and poor. I just hope it's not your kid or pet or my husband (who does love his hot dog chili) who ends up paying the ultimate price for it.
I am 44 years old, and up until the last two years, I do not recall these issues with food items ever being this bad in this country. We used to have safety standards.
I know there are people out there who don't want to blame the current administration for these problems, but tell me, if it hasn't been a problem before but it is now, where else would you look?
Obviously the lessening of regulations, and/or the lack of people to make sure existing regulations are adhered to, is behind this. Corporations do *not* police themselves, and people and pets should not have to die to put commonsense precautions in place.
The public seems to be getting what it's asking for. Less taxes (though not really), little regulation, a free-for-all resulting in a magnficient divide between the rich and poor. I just hope it's not your kid or pet or my husband (who does love his hot dog chili) who ends up paying the ultimate price for it.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
SPOILER: Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows
I read the book - all 750+ pages - in about 7 hours. An outline of the entire plot is below. I'll leave space in case you don't want to be spoiled:
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STOP NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW
Harry doesn't die. He lives, apparently to a ripe old age (or at least to 38 or so). Ron and Hermione also live.
This is one action-packed (and very long) book. It will be a non-stop movie, that's for sure.
Short version:
Essentially, Harry and gang are in search of Horcruxes, which are pieces of Vlodemort's soul. Vlodemort takes over the Ministry. Snape is named headmaster of Hogwarts. There's a big fight at the school. V. is killed along with about 60 other people.
Long version:
The book opens with Snape being a bad guy and the right hand of the big V. Harry sends the Dursley's off for their own protection, and then he is taken away by the Order of the Phoenix. Using Polyjuice Potion, the Order creates six other Harry Potters from folks like Ron and Hermione, Fred and George Weasley, etc. As soon as they leave the house, they are ambushed by Death Eaters. Much fighting ensues but they all escape except that George loses an ear.
Fleur and Bill wed at the Weasley's, but immediately after the vows V. takes the ministry and the wedding is crashed. Harry, Ron and Hermione escape by dissparating (sp) but they are attacked almost immediately even though they've landed in a place where they should have been safe. More fighting, they get away. They go to the old Order of the Phoenix house and stay there for a long time. Harry makes up with his house elf, Kreacher.
They figure out that Sirius's brother is the R.A.B. who took one of the Horcruxes, and then they learn that Dolores Umbridge at the ministry has it. It is in the shape of a locket. So they use polyjuice and infiltrate the ministry. Harry gets the locket; they barely escape.
Then they are on the run, hopping about the countryside magically. Ron and Harry have an argument and Ron leaves. Hermione and Harry carry on. On Christmas they go to Godric's Hollow to find Harry's parents' grave.
They meet an old woman who turns into V.'s pet snake. They get away.
Whiling away the time at a camp site, Harry sees a silver doe patronus. It leads him to a pond and he sees the Griffyndor sword hidden in the water. He dives in - it is winter and the pond is frozen - and the locket around his neck (the Horcrux) tries to kill him. Ron appears from nowhere and saves him. The sword is one of the few things that will destroy a Horcrux so Ron destroys the necklace.
They visit Luna's father to ask for help with a symbol, but the Ministry is holding Luna and the father turns them in. However, he tells them about the Deathly Hallows before the Ministry arrives. The Deathly Hallows are the invisibility cloak, an unbeatable wand, and a resurrection stone. There is fighting and they escape.
Later all three are captured. They are taken to the Malfoy estate. Hermione is tortured. Dobby the house elf appears and takes Luna, a goblin, and the wandmaker Ollivander away to Bill and Fleur's house. Harry and Ron escape and fighting ensues. Harry ends up with Bella's and Draco Malfoy's wands. Dobby reappears to take Harry, Ron and Hermione away. They escape, but Dobby is killed (I thought this was the saddest part of the book myself).
Harry befriends the goblin and asks the goblin to help them break into Gringotts (a bank) in order to get another Horcrux. The goblin agrees in exchange for the Griffyndor sword. Hermione takes polyjuice to look like Bella, and they enter the bank. They are quickly discovered, but they get to the vault. After they find what they need, the goblin takes the sword and then yells for help from his fellow goblins. The trio climb atop a dragon (who was protecting the gold) and they fly away on the dragon's back.
Harry's scar has been hurting him a lot and he's been reading V.'s mind, and this helps him. He realizes V. has figured out that they know about the Horcruxes because of the bank caper. The remaining Horcrux is V.'s snake and something at Hogwarts; Harry isn't sure what.
Harry goes to Hogmeade, near Hogwarts, and alarms go off. The bartender helps them escape. This turns out to be Dumbledore's brother. He has a secret passage into the school, so he helps them get into the school.
Neville calls all of Dumbledore's Army to come. Hogwarts will make a stand against V. while Harry searches for the Horcrux. Harry realizes where it is and goes after it; Draco and his two friends attempt to stop them. Harry gets it anyway and it is destroyed by special fire which also kills one of Draco's friends. Harry saves Draco's life.
Harry then goes after the snake, which is with V. He sees V. have the snake bite Snape. V. leaves and Harry goes to Snape and takes his memories. He gets to the Pensieve and looks at Snape's memories. Snape, it turns out, is a good guy. He killed Dumbledore because Dumbledore had previously asked him to do so; Dumbledore was going to die anyway because of a curse that had withered his arm.
Harry also learns that in order for V. to die, Harry has to die, because part of V.'s soul is in Harry, in his scar. Harry is the 7th Horcrux. So Harry goes to meet V., and V. does a killing spell. Harry meets up with Dumbledore and they chat, and Harry goes back. He isn't dead, but the soul of V. is no longer in him. He plays dead a while, then jumps up, lots of fighting.
Finally it's a show-down between Bella and Mrs. Weasley and Harry and V. Mrs. Weasley takes out Bella. Harry and V. face off and Harry kills V.
An epilogue takes place 19 years later. Harry has married Ginny; they have three kids. Ron and Hermione are also a pair and they have children. They meet at the train to send the kids off to Hogwarts. All is well.
The End
(Of course, there is a lot more going on than that - Rita Skeeter writes a Dumbledore expose', a lot of back story on Dumbledore turns up with that. Remus and Tonk marry and have a baby, but Remus and Tonk both die in the end...)
It was a good way to spend the day, reading this book. It was the best of the seven - but it required the other six in order to be that way.
SPOILER SPACE
SPOILER SPACE
SPOILER SPACE
SPOILER SPACE
SPOILER SPACE
SPOILER SPACE
STOP NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW
Harry doesn't die. He lives, apparently to a ripe old age (or at least to 38 or so). Ron and Hermione also live.
This is one action-packed (and very long) book. It will be a non-stop movie, that's for sure.
Short version:
Essentially, Harry and gang are in search of Horcruxes, which are pieces of Vlodemort's soul. Vlodemort takes over the Ministry. Snape is named headmaster of Hogwarts. There's a big fight at the school. V. is killed along with about 60 other people.
Long version:
The book opens with Snape being a bad guy and the right hand of the big V. Harry sends the Dursley's off for their own protection, and then he is taken away by the Order of the Phoenix. Using Polyjuice Potion, the Order creates six other Harry Potters from folks like Ron and Hermione, Fred and George Weasley, etc. As soon as they leave the house, they are ambushed by Death Eaters. Much fighting ensues but they all escape except that George loses an ear.
Fleur and Bill wed at the Weasley's, but immediately after the vows V. takes the ministry and the wedding is crashed. Harry, Ron and Hermione escape by dissparating (sp) but they are attacked almost immediately even though they've landed in a place where they should have been safe. More fighting, they get away. They go to the old Order of the Phoenix house and stay there for a long time. Harry makes up with his house elf, Kreacher.
They figure out that Sirius's brother is the R.A.B. who took one of the Horcruxes, and then they learn that Dolores Umbridge at the ministry has it. It is in the shape of a locket. So they use polyjuice and infiltrate the ministry. Harry gets the locket; they barely escape.
Then they are on the run, hopping about the countryside magically. Ron and Harry have an argument and Ron leaves. Hermione and Harry carry on. On Christmas they go to Godric's Hollow to find Harry's parents' grave.
They meet an old woman who turns into V.'s pet snake. They get away.
Whiling away the time at a camp site, Harry sees a silver doe patronus. It leads him to a pond and he sees the Griffyndor sword hidden in the water. He dives in - it is winter and the pond is frozen - and the locket around his neck (the Horcrux) tries to kill him. Ron appears from nowhere and saves him. The sword is one of the few things that will destroy a Horcrux so Ron destroys the necklace.
They visit Luna's father to ask for help with a symbol, but the Ministry is holding Luna and the father turns them in. However, he tells them about the Deathly Hallows before the Ministry arrives. The Deathly Hallows are the invisibility cloak, an unbeatable wand, and a resurrection stone. There is fighting and they escape.
Later all three are captured. They are taken to the Malfoy estate. Hermione is tortured. Dobby the house elf appears and takes Luna, a goblin, and the wandmaker Ollivander away to Bill and Fleur's house. Harry and Ron escape and fighting ensues. Harry ends up with Bella's and Draco Malfoy's wands. Dobby reappears to take Harry, Ron and Hermione away. They escape, but Dobby is killed (I thought this was the saddest part of the book myself).
Harry befriends the goblin and asks the goblin to help them break into Gringotts (a bank) in order to get another Horcrux. The goblin agrees in exchange for the Griffyndor sword. Hermione takes polyjuice to look like Bella, and they enter the bank. They are quickly discovered, but they get to the vault. After they find what they need, the goblin takes the sword and then yells for help from his fellow goblins. The trio climb atop a dragon (who was protecting the gold) and they fly away on the dragon's back.
Harry's scar has been hurting him a lot and he's been reading V.'s mind, and this helps him. He realizes V. has figured out that they know about the Horcruxes because of the bank caper. The remaining Horcrux is V.'s snake and something at Hogwarts; Harry isn't sure what.
Harry goes to Hogmeade, near Hogwarts, and alarms go off. The bartender helps them escape. This turns out to be Dumbledore's brother. He has a secret passage into the school, so he helps them get into the school.
Neville calls all of Dumbledore's Army to come. Hogwarts will make a stand against V. while Harry searches for the Horcrux. Harry realizes where it is and goes after it; Draco and his two friends attempt to stop them. Harry gets it anyway and it is destroyed by special fire which also kills one of Draco's friends. Harry saves Draco's life.
Harry then goes after the snake, which is with V. He sees V. have the snake bite Snape. V. leaves and Harry goes to Snape and takes his memories. He gets to the Pensieve and looks at Snape's memories. Snape, it turns out, is a good guy. He killed Dumbledore because Dumbledore had previously asked him to do so; Dumbledore was going to die anyway because of a curse that had withered his arm.
Harry also learns that in order for V. to die, Harry has to die, because part of V.'s soul is in Harry, in his scar. Harry is the 7th Horcrux. So Harry goes to meet V., and V. does a killing spell. Harry meets up with Dumbledore and they chat, and Harry goes back. He isn't dead, but the soul of V. is no longer in him. He plays dead a while, then jumps up, lots of fighting.
Finally it's a show-down between Bella and Mrs. Weasley and Harry and V. Mrs. Weasley takes out Bella. Harry and V. face off and Harry kills V.
An epilogue takes place 19 years later. Harry has married Ginny; they have three kids. Ron and Hermione are also a pair and they have children. They meet at the train to send the kids off to Hogwarts. All is well.
The End
(Of course, there is a lot more going on than that - Rita Skeeter writes a Dumbledore expose', a lot of back story on Dumbledore turns up with that. Remus and Tonk marry and have a baby, but Remus and Tonk both die in the end...)
It was a good way to spend the day, reading this book. It was the best of the seven - but it required the other six in order to be that way.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Harry Potter: Page 400
I'm a little over half-way. No real spoilers, don't worry.
It's a book with a great deal of action in it. The movie will be quite an action thriller.
One character's death occurs quite early in the book.
Rawling has done some good work in this writing.
Back to it.
It's a book with a great deal of action in it. The movie will be quite an action thriller.
One character's death occurs quite early in the book.
Rawling has done some good work in this writing.
Back to it.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Count Down: 12 Hours to Harry Potter
Spoilers not withstanding, I am waiting on the new Harry Potter release. I have been rereading Book 6, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, to remind myself what all went on before.
While I enjoy the books as I read them, I find I have a tendency to forget their details easily. They don't stick to my ribs, I suppose.
I have not yet decided if I will seek a bookstore at midnight. I suspect I will wait and purchase a copy in the morning, though, mostly because my husband will be home tonight and he has to get up quite early. He won't cotton to my making a midnight run for a book, I think.
I had thought to make a prediction about the book but I've read a few spoilers, which may or may not be true, and of course have been influenced by them even if I dismiss them. So I shan't make any predictions except to say I think Harry doesn't die. That would just be too mean.
But it won't be long now ... I will have the book and the story will unfold.
While I enjoy the books as I read them, I find I have a tendency to forget their details easily. They don't stick to my ribs, I suppose.
I have not yet decided if I will seek a bookstore at midnight. I suspect I will wait and purchase a copy in the morning, though, mostly because my husband will be home tonight and he has to get up quite early. He won't cotton to my making a midnight run for a book, I think.
I had thought to make a prediction about the book but I've read a few spoilers, which may or may not be true, and of course have been influenced by them even if I dismiss them. So I shan't make any predictions except to say I think Harry doesn't die. That would just be too mean.
But it won't be long now ... I will have the book and the story will unfold.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Plantar Fasciitis
Ah, another consequence of (a) getting older and (b) being overweight.
Plantar Fasciitis. This is a problem with the feet. The band that stretches from heel to toe becomes inflamed, making walking painful.
This began for me back in February, when I attempted to pick up my exercise routine to the next level. Today, when I visited my doctor for prescription refills for my allergy medication, I mentioned the problem with my feet. Since we finally today decided to take a vacation in August, I would like to be able to enjoy it.
I figured with my feet hurting, my enjoyment factor would be much lower.
The "cure" is exercise, ice, and anti-inflammatory drugs. I am not keen on the drugs but since my husband won't have a good time if I am not having a good time (that is just the way it happens when you're married), I will do so.
The exercises include doing things like picking up a towel with your toes several times a day. I also should stay off my feet for a few days to give them time to heal. I have not done this and honestly don't know how I will, but I will make an effort not to walk so much for a few days.
Unfortunately, the literature my doctor gave me says this can take up to a year to heal. That is a very long time.
Plantar Fasciitis. This is a problem with the feet. The band that stretches from heel to toe becomes inflamed, making walking painful.
This began for me back in February, when I attempted to pick up my exercise routine to the next level. Today, when I visited my doctor for prescription refills for my allergy medication, I mentioned the problem with my feet. Since we finally today decided to take a vacation in August, I would like to be able to enjoy it.
I figured with my feet hurting, my enjoyment factor would be much lower.
The "cure" is exercise, ice, and anti-inflammatory drugs. I am not keen on the drugs but since my husband won't have a good time if I am not having a good time (that is just the way it happens when you're married), I will do so.
The exercises include doing things like picking up a towel with your toes several times a day. I also should stay off my feet for a few days to give them time to heal. I have not done this and honestly don't know how I will, but I will make an effort not to walk so much for a few days.
Unfortunately, the literature my doctor gave me says this can take up to a year to heal. That is a very long time.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Darned Deer
I came home Friday to find the garden in shambles.
We have a tiny vegetable garden - about 9 X 7. I have it crammed full of things - tomatoes, peas, cabbage, lettuce, peppers, radishes, yellow squash, zucchini. There is no room for anything but a hoe. We have a plastic woven fence around the whole thing in the hopes of keeping deer, rabbit, groundhogs and other critters away.
The tomatoes are in cages, large woven wire. The cages are quite old and the wire very sturdy.
But something had yanked one of the cages completely out of the ground and off a tomato plant, twisted two other cages (and their contents) and mangled a pepper plant.
The ground inside the fence was littered with deer footy prints. Hoof marks everywhere in the mud (I had watered the night before).
So yesterday I put the garden back together as best I could, but the tomatoes look a little sorry now. Several nice green tomatoes were knocked free and then bitten into. Darn it.
I suspect that the culprit was a little buck that hangs around the house. I further suspect that he jumped the fence and got a horn hung up in the tomato cage, resulting in a damaging dance over my little garden space. At least, that is how I envision this carnage taking place.
We used to have a very large garden, but we gave it up about seven years ago. The deer were doing all the eating and we were doing all the work. We resumed this smaller plot three years ago, mostly for tomatoes, but it has gotten a little larger as we miss the good fresh veggies. Of course that means it is attracting more animals.
This year, especially, I've had a difficult time keeping critters at bay. This is a groundhog, heading for his dinner - yeah, in my garden.
We have a tiny vegetable garden - about 9 X 7. I have it crammed full of things - tomatoes, peas, cabbage, lettuce, peppers, radishes, yellow squash, zucchini. There is no room for anything but a hoe. We have a plastic woven fence around the whole thing in the hopes of keeping deer, rabbit, groundhogs and other critters away.
The tomatoes are in cages, large woven wire. The cages are quite old and the wire very sturdy.
But something had yanked one of the cages completely out of the ground and off a tomato plant, twisted two other cages (and their contents) and mangled a pepper plant.
The ground inside the fence was littered with deer footy prints. Hoof marks everywhere in the mud (I had watered the night before).
So yesterday I put the garden back together as best I could, but the tomatoes look a little sorry now. Several nice green tomatoes were knocked free and then bitten into. Darn it.
I suspect that the culprit was a little buck that hangs around the house. I further suspect that he jumped the fence and got a horn hung up in the tomato cage, resulting in a damaging dance over my little garden space. At least, that is how I envision this carnage taking place.
We used to have a very large garden, but we gave it up about seven years ago. The deer were doing all the eating and we were doing all the work. We resumed this smaller plot three years ago, mostly for tomatoes, but it has gotten a little larger as we miss the good fresh veggies. Of course that means it is attracting more animals.
This year, especially, I've had a difficult time keeping critters at bay. This is a groundhog, heading for his dinner - yeah, in my garden.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Thursday Thirteen
I was an English major in college. I bypassed math as much as I could. However, I got all the way though Trig in high school, complete with "As" on the report card. Today I remember none of it.
Still, I have to play with numbers:
1) I count to 10 a lot. Every morning, in fact, when I lift weights, do sit ups, and other exercises that require increments of 10.
2) I stare at the odometer on the exercise bike or treadmill, anxiously willing the numbers to increase exponentially. (They never do.)
3) I balance the checkbook.
4) I have to figure percentages a lot in my articles. This is something I always sweat over and I always make my editor double-check my figures.
5) I am never without my watch, and of course it takes numbers on the clock face to tell time.
6) I also always like to know what date it is.
7) I use numbers every Thursday when I do a Thursday Thirteen!
8) I need to see the sizes in clothes before I buy them.
9) Totaling up the groceries in my head as I put items in the cart and then seeing how close I am with the total bill is a game I play when I shop.
10) Blogger keeps track of the number of blog entries you have!
11) Without numbers, I doubt there'd be an Internet, but I am rather clueless about how all that works.
12) I use measurements every morning when I make my Chinese medicine (which is an herbal tea), and then set a timer to count it down so that it steeps properly.
13) Janet Evanovich uses numbers in her detective series, and the 13th book just came out ...
Still, I have to play with numbers:
1) I count to 10 a lot. Every morning, in fact, when I lift weights, do sit ups, and other exercises that require increments of 10.
2) I stare at the odometer on the exercise bike or treadmill, anxiously willing the numbers to increase exponentially. (They never do.)
3) I balance the checkbook.
4) I have to figure percentages a lot in my articles. This is something I always sweat over and I always make my editor double-check my figures.
5) I am never without my watch, and of course it takes numbers on the clock face to tell time.
6) I also always like to know what date it is.
7) I use numbers every Thursday when I do a Thursday Thirteen!
8) I need to see the sizes in clothes before I buy them.
9) Totaling up the groceries in my head as I put items in the cart and then seeing how close I am with the total bill is a game I play when I shop.
10) Blogger keeps track of the number of blog entries you have!
11) Without numbers, I doubt there'd be an Internet, but I am rather clueless about how all that works.
12) I use measurements every morning when I make my Chinese medicine (which is an herbal tea), and then set a timer to count it down so that it steeps properly.
13) Janet Evanovich uses numbers in her detective series, and the 13th book just came out ...
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
A Defining Moment
About this time of the year in 1989, my parents home caught fire from a lightning strike.
I was 26 years old.
I can only tell my version of events, as I wasn't there. I was at the movies with my aunt. I am sure that, if someone else were to read this, they would beg to differ.
As I understand it, my parents were home that warm July day when a storm came up. There was no thunder, but the lightning bolt sizzled through the house. My parents both felt it hit the house.
They began looking for damage and discovered the attic on fire. The lightning had hit the side of the garage and a fire ball raced through the attic, setting the entire roof on fire. The bolt also split a tree beside the house.
They called the fire department, which, being volunteer and miles away, meant a bit of a wait until help arrived.
The firemen managed to save some of the walls. What content didn't burn was of course damaged by smoke and water. It was a total loss.
My parents were naturally very devasted by this event. My brother, scheduled to be married the following month, still lived at home, so he lost a lot of things also. I had been gone for six years, but I had books, dolls and other items, including my wedding dress, stored in a chest in my parents' garage. All of that burned and could not be salvaged.
Those are pretty much the facts of the story.
My aunt and I had been to see Dead Poet's Society at the theater. As I was driving home down the interstate near the Daleville exit, I noticed a lot of smoke off in the distance. I recall thinking to myself that something was really burning.
I arrived home and nearly as soon as I entered the kitchen the phone rang. My husband, a firefighter for a different jurisdiction, was on duty. He was also breathless. "Thank God you're home!" he exclaimed. "Your parents' house is on fire."
He was at work, of course. I hung up and climbed in the car. I was driving a 1983 Ford Thunderbird at the time. I pushed the car hard the six miles to my parents' house - so much so I could smell the brakes burning. I feared for their safety and of course I had no idea what was going on. I knew I had seen so much smoke. I prayed they would be okay.
This was, of course, before cell phones.
I raced up the driveway and found a line of cars. Neighbors had gathered to gawk, and the firemen had arrived in their own vehicles as well as in fire trucks. Smoke was no longer billowing, but they were still spraying water on the debris that used to be the home I grew up in. I parked some distance away and ran toward the house.
I was 26 years old.
I can only tell my version of events, as I wasn't there. I was at the movies with my aunt. I am sure that, if someone else were to read this, they would beg to differ.
As I understand it, my parents were home that warm July day when a storm came up. There was no thunder, but the lightning bolt sizzled through the house. My parents both felt it hit the house.
They began looking for damage and discovered the attic on fire. The lightning had hit the side of the garage and a fire ball raced through the attic, setting the entire roof on fire. The bolt also split a tree beside the house.
They called the fire department, which, being volunteer and miles away, meant a bit of a wait until help arrived.
The firemen managed to save some of the walls. What content didn't burn was of course damaged by smoke and water. It was a total loss.
My parents were naturally very devasted by this event. My brother, scheduled to be married the following month, still lived at home, so he lost a lot of things also. I had been gone for six years, but I had books, dolls and other items, including my wedding dress, stored in a chest in my parents' garage. All of that burned and could not be salvaged.
Those are pretty much the facts of the story.
My aunt and I had been to see Dead Poet's Society at the theater. As I was driving home down the interstate near the Daleville exit, I noticed a lot of smoke off in the distance. I recall thinking to myself that something was really burning.
I arrived home and nearly as soon as I entered the kitchen the phone rang. My husband, a firefighter for a different jurisdiction, was on duty. He was also breathless. "Thank God you're home!" he exclaimed. "Your parents' house is on fire."
He was at work, of course. I hung up and climbed in the car. I was driving a 1983 Ford Thunderbird at the time. I pushed the car hard the six miles to my parents' house - so much so I could smell the brakes burning. I feared for their safety and of course I had no idea what was going on. I knew I had seen so much smoke. I prayed they would be okay.
This was, of course, before cell phones.
I raced up the driveway and found a line of cars. Neighbors had gathered to gawk, and the firemen had arrived in their own vehicles as well as in fire trucks. Smoke was no longer billowing, but they were still spraying water on the debris that used to be the home I grew up in. I parked some distance away and ran toward the house.
Bad Blogger
I've been unable to access my blog up until today!
Bad blogger.
Hopefully the problem is fixed and I'll be able to get back on track with entries!
Bad blogger.
Hopefully the problem is fixed and I'll be able to get back on track with entries!
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Helping a Cause
Yesterday I had the privilege of attending an event hosted by the Hollins Communications Research Institute at Hollins University.
This non-profit works to help stutterers. This is probably not a problem that is high on people's radar in terms of disability, but the truth is it can be very disabling. Stuttering causes mental trauma and anguish and can result in low self-esteem, among other things.
It affects about 2 million people; most are men (4:1). Stuttering usually begins between the ages of two and four.
Stuttering is *not* the result of some kind of emotional or mental issue. Research at HCRI shows it is related to muscles, making it a physical problem. Their work focuses on retraining muscles so that stuttering is limited or removed entirely.
They have a 90 percent success rate with their treatment, but the treatment is expensive, costing thousands of dollars for their program. Even so, about 200 people go through their program each year.
Famous stutterers include Aristotle, Charles Darwin, Moses (although I am not sure how they know this), Marylin Monroe and Isaac Newton. At this event yesterday, people attended from all walks of life. Some were captains of their industries, which ran the gamut from pharmaceuticals to overseeing 33,000 school students.
According to HCRI's website, others who have sought help from the institute are Annie Glenn, wife of U.S. Senator John Glenn; Lester Hayes of the Los Angeles Raiders, for whom postgame interviews were torture; and 20/20 reporter John Stossel, whose speech problem interfered with his career.
Saturday's event was the kick-off of a multi-million fundraising campaign. The doctors at HCRI believe they are on the verge of medical breakthroughs for stuttering, but need an endowment fund to continue their research.
This is a very worthy program. The institute was founded in 1972 by Dr. Ronald L. Webster, who has pioneered work in the development of objectively defined, behaviorally-oriented stuttering therapy. The institute has helped thousands of people.
If you're looking for a local non-profit for your charity dollars, this one deserves a look.
The Virginia General Assembly honored the program during the 2007 session.
This non-profit works to help stutterers. This is probably not a problem that is high on people's radar in terms of disability, but the truth is it can be very disabling. Stuttering causes mental trauma and anguish and can result in low self-esteem, among other things.
It affects about 2 million people; most are men (4:1). Stuttering usually begins between the ages of two and four.
Stuttering is *not* the result of some kind of emotional or mental issue. Research at HCRI shows it is related to muscles, making it a physical problem. Their work focuses on retraining muscles so that stuttering is limited or removed entirely.
They have a 90 percent success rate with their treatment, but the treatment is expensive, costing thousands of dollars for their program. Even so, about 200 people go through their program each year.
Famous stutterers include Aristotle, Charles Darwin, Moses (although I am not sure how they know this), Marylin Monroe and Isaac Newton. At this event yesterday, people attended from all walks of life. Some were captains of their industries, which ran the gamut from pharmaceuticals to overseeing 33,000 school students.
According to HCRI's website, others who have sought help from the institute are Annie Glenn, wife of U.S. Senator John Glenn; Lester Hayes of the Los Angeles Raiders, for whom postgame interviews were torture; and 20/20 reporter John Stossel, whose speech problem interfered with his career.
Saturday's event was the kick-off of a multi-million fundraising campaign. The doctors at HCRI believe they are on the verge of medical breakthroughs for stuttering, but need an endowment fund to continue their research.
This is a very worthy program. The institute was founded in 1972 by Dr. Ronald L. Webster, who has pioneered work in the development of objectively defined, behaviorally-oriented stuttering therapy. The institute has helped thousands of people.
If you're looking for a local non-profit for your charity dollars, this one deserves a look.
The Virginia General Assembly honored the program during the 2007 session.
Friday, July 06, 2007
The Blue Dog
During a conversation with my brother last night, he revealed that my nephew, who is 12, sleeps with Blue.
Blue is a stuffed dog that belonged to me. I slept with Blue too. Then my brother confiscated Blue and slept with him.
The dog is about a foot long, blue in color (hence the name), with a pink tongue hanging out. It's eyes are sewn on and it has little black ears.
Blue escaped a fire that burned down my parents house, but he smelled very badly indeed after that. A friend of mine who sewed took Blue home with her while I was the in hospital having a hysterectomy in 1992.
Not long after I returned home, I received Blue, washed, repaired, and restuffed, in pristine condition. He had a place of honor at the foot of the bed.
When my mother died in 2000, the family was severed and people weren't speaking to one another. Sometime later, about two years, I think, I managed to return to better relations with my brother. At that time, I handed Blue over to my nephew. I explained to him that his grandmother bought the dog for me, that his father slept with it, and that I was now handing it over to him.
It is sweet that he sleeps with it. My brother brought it up because my 5-year old niece attempted to confiscate the dog, setting up howls of protest from the older nephew. That little stuffed dog must surely be like the Velveteen Rabbit, loved so much that it is nearly real.
Blue is a stuffed dog that belonged to me. I slept with Blue too. Then my brother confiscated Blue and slept with him.
The dog is about a foot long, blue in color (hence the name), with a pink tongue hanging out. It's eyes are sewn on and it has little black ears.
Blue escaped a fire that burned down my parents house, but he smelled very badly indeed after that. A friend of mine who sewed took Blue home with her while I was the in hospital having a hysterectomy in 1992.
Not long after I returned home, I received Blue, washed, repaired, and restuffed, in pristine condition. He had a place of honor at the foot of the bed.
When my mother died in 2000, the family was severed and people weren't speaking to one another. Sometime later, about two years, I think, I managed to return to better relations with my brother. At that time, I handed Blue over to my nephew. I explained to him that his grandmother bought the dog for me, that his father slept with it, and that I was now handing it over to him.
It is sweet that he sleeps with it. My brother brought it up because my 5-year old niece attempted to confiscate the dog, setting up howls of protest from the older nephew. That little stuffed dog must surely be like the Velveteen Rabbit, loved so much that it is nearly real.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
To Grandma, RIP 06/28/07
Your lap was the safest place in the world.
Hurts were smoothed away with your kisses
And your hugs as you engulfed us
With your love.
Pulled close and rocked hard, we listened
To your heart beat and your voice
Singing “Daisy, Daisy” as our tears
Vanished like fog in sunshine.
Your heart beat with love
For your children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
There was no transgression you could not forgive.
You soothed brows and bolstered self-esteem
And you seldom asked for anything in return.
Your life was hard but you always sang.
Even near the end, you heard music.
You made fried apple pies and macaroni and cheese
With equal amounts of joy and tenderness.
Those are spices no one could add but you,
Grandma.
Though you are now in a better place, safe in Heaven
And strolling along glided streets with Grandpa
Holding your hand
You remain still here with us, held close and fast
And with each beat of our hearts
We will remember your love.
Hurts were smoothed away with your kisses
And your hugs as you engulfed us
With your love.
Pulled close and rocked hard, we listened
To your heart beat and your voice
Singing “Daisy, Daisy” as our tears
Vanished like fog in sunshine.
Your heart beat with love
For your children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
There was no transgression you could not forgive.
You soothed brows and bolstered self-esteem
And you seldom asked for anything in return.
Your life was hard but you always sang.
Even near the end, you heard music.
You made fried apple pies and macaroni and cheese
With equal amounts of joy and tenderness.
Those are spices no one could add but you,
Grandma.
Though you are now in a better place, safe in Heaven
And strolling along glided streets with Grandpa
Holding your hand
You remain still here with us, held close and fast
And with each beat of our hearts
We will remember your love.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Books: The Dangerous Hour
The Dangerous Hour
by Marcia Muller
Read by Susan Erickson
Audiobook
This is the 23rd book in a series, and I'd have never guessed. Well, I knew it was a series but it read well enough that it didn't matter. I will definitely go back and pick up on this series.
This is no Stephanie Plum mystery - this is a serious woman detective here. Like Stephanie, she doesn't know what she's doing with men, apparently, but aside from that, Sharon McCone is all business.
She owns an investigative agency and someone from her past is out to get her. One of her operatives is framed and McCone sets out to prove her - and her agency - innocent.
Lots of suspense and drama. Good clean writing and a joy to listen to.
4 stars
by Marcia Muller
Read by Susan Erickson
Audiobook
This is the 23rd book in a series, and I'd have never guessed. Well, I knew it was a series but it read well enough that it didn't matter. I will definitely go back and pick up on this series.
This is no Stephanie Plum mystery - this is a serious woman detective here. Like Stephanie, she doesn't know what she's doing with men, apparently, but aside from that, Sharon McCone is all business.
She owns an investigative agency and someone from her past is out to get her. One of her operatives is framed and McCone sets out to prove her - and her agency - innocent.
Lots of suspense and drama. Good clean writing and a joy to listen to.
4 stars
Books: The Shadow of the Wind
The Shadow of the Wind
by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
Copyright 2001
500 pages
This is one of the best books I have read in a long time.
The book was a bestseller in Spain, where the novel takes place. It is set in the 1950s but bounces around in time a bit (my only complaint with the novel - I was never sure what era I was in).
Daniel Sempere, a motherless boy, is 10 years old when his father takes him to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books. He discovers a novel called The Shadow of the Wind, by Julián Carax, an obscure author. Sempere is taken with the book and sets out to learn more about the writer.
He is accosted by a stranger who offers to buy the book, and then Daniel learns that someone has purchased and burned all copies of the book found.
The novel follows Daniel as he grows up, still entranced with the book and its author. He has a teenage crush ona blind woman who knows something of the book, meets Fermin, a man with a mysterious past who knows much about books and life in general, and falls for his best friend's sister, Bea.
The story turns into a mystery as Daniel, now a young adult, begins in earnest to learn how Carax allegedly died and why someone wants the books burned.
Along the way there is a corrupt policeman who happens to have grown up with Carax, lots of tension, and just good literature.
This is not an insipid book by any stretch of the imagination. It reminded me of a Joseph Conrad book, perhaps, or any other well-written book of quality.
4.5 stars
by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
Copyright 2001
500 pages
This is one of the best books I have read in a long time.
The book was a bestseller in Spain, where the novel takes place. It is set in the 1950s but bounces around in time a bit (my only complaint with the novel - I was never sure what era I was in).
Daniel Sempere, a motherless boy, is 10 years old when his father takes him to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books. He discovers a novel called The Shadow of the Wind, by Julián Carax, an obscure author. Sempere is taken with the book and sets out to learn more about the writer.
He is accosted by a stranger who offers to buy the book, and then Daniel learns that someone has purchased and burned all copies of the book found.
The novel follows Daniel as he grows up, still entranced with the book and its author. He has a teenage crush ona blind woman who knows something of the book, meets Fermin, a man with a mysterious past who knows much about books and life in general, and falls for his best friend's sister, Bea.
The story turns into a mystery as Daniel, now a young adult, begins in earnest to learn how Carax allegedly died and why someone wants the books burned.
Along the way there is a corrupt policeman who happens to have grown up with Carax, lots of tension, and just good literature.
This is not an insipid book by any stretch of the imagination. It reminded me of a Joseph Conrad book, perhaps, or any other well-written book of quality.
4.5 stars
Thursday, June 28, 2007
In Memory
My grandmother, Melba W. Harris, 84, of Salem, passed away this morning.
I loved her a lot.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Exit 150
So VDOT plans to "fix" Exit 150 with a little paint and a couple of traffic barriers.
This is ridiculous. The exit in question is one of the state's busiest interchanges. It is the intersection of US 11, US 220, and Interstate 81. A truck stop smack in the center of the exit ramp creates most of the problem.
One of Botetourt's supervisors has suggested simply buying out the truckstop to alleviate the problem. I think this suggestion has great merit and would, in fact, help the situation tremendously.
Because it is the tractor trailers, pulling in and pulling out and scaring motorists half to death sometimes, that block traffic and create back ups.
I cringe every time I go through the intersection. When I am older, I will be unable to get out of the county for fear of my life at the interchange.
The county, of course, is waiting on the state to do something, and the state is waiting on ... well, I don't know what the state is waiting on. We are in this "don't spend money" phase in this nation and Virginia's infrastructure is suffering along with everyone else's.
The all-out-and-out fix, which as I understand it would work around the truckstop, would cost about $182 million. I don't know what the truckstop is worth but I bet you could buy it out and shut it down for a whole lot less than that.
I suggested to a couple of supervisors that the county should purchase land some place else and make an offer to the truckstop to move.
No one liked that idea. But they do it for everyone else - that is why there is a Greenfield Industrial Park and an East Park Industrial Center and Vista Industrial Park in the county. So we can offer corporations welfare to come in here, take our tax dollars and financial incentives, and then renege on their commitments and leave.
We might as well accomplish something, like less congestion at Exit 150, while we're handing money hand over fist to corporations, don't you think?
Anyway, the state wants to spend $2 million on paint - and another $1 million to move the Park & Ride, which, as best I can tell, doesn't do a thing for the situation.
A million for a parking lot. Yeah, that'll help the traffic flow.
This is ridiculous. The exit in question is one of the state's busiest interchanges. It is the intersection of US 11, US 220, and Interstate 81. A truck stop smack in the center of the exit ramp creates most of the problem.
One of Botetourt's supervisors has suggested simply buying out the truckstop to alleviate the problem. I think this suggestion has great merit and would, in fact, help the situation tremendously.
Because it is the tractor trailers, pulling in and pulling out and scaring motorists half to death sometimes, that block traffic and create back ups.
I cringe every time I go through the intersection. When I am older, I will be unable to get out of the county for fear of my life at the interchange.
The county, of course, is waiting on the state to do something, and the state is waiting on ... well, I don't know what the state is waiting on. We are in this "don't spend money" phase in this nation and Virginia's infrastructure is suffering along with everyone else's.
The all-out-and-out fix, which as I understand it would work around the truckstop, would cost about $182 million. I don't know what the truckstop is worth but I bet you could buy it out and shut it down for a whole lot less than that.
I suggested to a couple of supervisors that the county should purchase land some place else and make an offer to the truckstop to move.
No one liked that idea. But they do it for everyone else - that is why there is a Greenfield Industrial Park and an East Park Industrial Center and Vista Industrial Park in the county. So we can offer corporations welfare to come in here, take our tax dollars and financial incentives, and then renege on their commitments and leave.
We might as well accomplish something, like less congestion at Exit 150, while we're handing money hand over fist to corporations, don't you think?
Anyway, the state wants to spend $2 million on paint - and another $1 million to move the Park & Ride, which, as best I can tell, doesn't do a thing for the situation.
A million for a parking lot. Yeah, that'll help the traffic flow.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Mental Health Care
I find it appalling that Virginia's mental health care system, ignored for decades, is finally "found lacking" because some nut decided to let loose with a gun.
This has been a problem at least since the early 1980s and most likely was an issue well before then. It is a system-wide failure, not only with commitments, voluntary or involuntary, but with available health care and follow up.
Walk the streets of any city in this state and you'll see the results of the inadequacies. People in tatters roaming downtown, muttering and talking to themselves. People unable to hold jobs because of their mental health. People who may be able to be back in the work force with proper care and treatment.
The articles out now cite concerns about "warehousing" the mentally ill. Which is worse than letting folks die of exposure in the streets how?
Our nursing homes are full of "warehoused" mentally ill elderly people. These are sad and horrific places. I know because I hear them and see them every time I visit my grandmother in Richfield. The only reason they are cared for is because of Medicare and Medicaid. Younger people fall through the cracks because there isn't a government program to care for them.
My main concern with loosening the "imminent danger" standards for commitment lie with people like a few I know who would take advantage of the looser rules. Folks like this would use the looser rules for convenience. As in, wife not behaving properly? Have her declared insane.... that'll end the problem.
I know someone who grew up with this threat. It was lashed toward her (be a good girl or you'll be sent to Staunton was one of her parents' main threats. There used to be a mental health facility up there.)
I have heard adults use this threat with one another, too.
So that would be my worry. That folks who aren't in need of a commitment might somehow end up with one.
But that niggling worry isn't enough for me to say, don't make health care reform. We desperately need mental health care reform (and reform of all health care) in this state, if not the country.
Something must be done. It should have been done decades ago.
This has been a problem at least since the early 1980s and most likely was an issue well before then. It is a system-wide failure, not only with commitments, voluntary or involuntary, but with available health care and follow up.
Walk the streets of any city in this state and you'll see the results of the inadequacies. People in tatters roaming downtown, muttering and talking to themselves. People unable to hold jobs because of their mental health. People who may be able to be back in the work force with proper care and treatment.
The articles out now cite concerns about "warehousing" the mentally ill. Which is worse than letting folks die of exposure in the streets how?
Our nursing homes are full of "warehoused" mentally ill elderly people. These are sad and horrific places. I know because I hear them and see them every time I visit my grandmother in Richfield. The only reason they are cared for is because of Medicare and Medicaid. Younger people fall through the cracks because there isn't a government program to care for them.
My main concern with loosening the "imminent danger" standards for commitment lie with people like a few I know who would take advantage of the looser rules. Folks like this would use the looser rules for convenience. As in, wife not behaving properly? Have her declared insane.... that'll end the problem.
I know someone who grew up with this threat. It was lashed toward her (be a good girl or you'll be sent to Staunton was one of her parents' main threats. There used to be a mental health facility up there.)
I have heard adults use this threat with one another, too.
So that would be my worry. That folks who aren't in need of a commitment might somehow end up with one.
But that niggling worry isn't enough for me to say, don't make health care reform. We desperately need mental health care reform (and reform of all health care) in this state, if not the country.
Something must be done. It should have been done decades ago.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Thursday Thirteen
Desperate for my weekly thirteen, I decided to write about my favorite brands. Oddly enough, I don't have a number one favorite. I am not overly brand loyal but there are a few things to which I am partial. So here they are, not in any particular order:
1. Toyota. I drive a Camry and I really enjoy the car. My husband will only drive Fords, and this is the first "foreign" car we've ever owned. But after having two failed Ford Tauruses, I opted to go for the Toyota and have never regretted the decision.
2. Coca-Cola. I have always liked Coke products better than Pepsi. Plus they have those cute bears in their Christmas commercials.
3. Pilot Pens. My favorite brand of ink pens are Pilot G-2, extra fine. My husband hates them.
4. Hewlett Packard. The best printers I have ever owned have been HPs. I include HP printer ink in this, too, as I've tried generic and it doesn't work as well. I had an HP computer pre-2000 and I liked it a lot. It is still working, actually. My aunt and uncle use it.
5. AT&T. The phones were never the same when AT&T broke up. Ma Bell, I miss you so. Your new reincarnation rings no bells.
6. Synthroid. This is a medication I take for thyroid problems. I can't take the generic because, in spite of the claims, the generic works differently on me than the real thing.
7. RCA. Most of our TVs and stereos are made by RCA. I am not sure why but I think it has to do with the picture and sound quality and what we like.
8. Nikon. Even though I am currently using a Canon S3-Powershot, I miss Nikon. Nikon has a little different picture quality and I think I prefer it. The Canon is fine, just different.
9. Fruit of the Loom. My brand of undies. Now you know.
10. Peter Pan Peanut Butter. When they recalled this, we had three jars of the contaminated stuff here. We have been eating Jif. It isn't bad, but it isn't Peter Pan, either. My husband and I both grew up with Peter Pan and I guess that is where this comes from.
11. Nabisco. Especially Fig Newtons. I have tried other brands but theirs is the best tasting.
12. Silk. I like their soy milk products.
13. Alfred Dunner. These conservative clothes don't express my personality well, but they always fit and they look very professional. My closet is full of them.
1. Toyota. I drive a Camry and I really enjoy the car. My husband will only drive Fords, and this is the first "foreign" car we've ever owned. But after having two failed Ford Tauruses, I opted to go for the Toyota and have never regretted the decision.
2. Coca-Cola. I have always liked Coke products better than Pepsi. Plus they have those cute bears in their Christmas commercials.
3. Pilot Pens. My favorite brand of ink pens are Pilot G-2, extra fine. My husband hates them.
4. Hewlett Packard. The best printers I have ever owned have been HPs. I include HP printer ink in this, too, as I've tried generic and it doesn't work as well. I had an HP computer pre-2000 and I liked it a lot. It is still working, actually. My aunt and uncle use it.
5. AT&T. The phones were never the same when AT&T broke up. Ma Bell, I miss you so. Your new reincarnation rings no bells.
6. Synthroid. This is a medication I take for thyroid problems. I can't take the generic because, in spite of the claims, the generic works differently on me than the real thing.
7. RCA. Most of our TVs and stereos are made by RCA. I am not sure why but I think it has to do with the picture and sound quality and what we like.
8. Nikon. Even though I am currently using a Canon S3-Powershot, I miss Nikon. Nikon has a little different picture quality and I think I prefer it. The Canon is fine, just different.
9. Fruit of the Loom. My brand of undies. Now you know.
10. Peter Pan Peanut Butter. When they recalled this, we had three jars of the contaminated stuff here. We have been eating Jif. It isn't bad, but it isn't Peter Pan, either. My husband and I both grew up with Peter Pan and I guess that is where this comes from.
11. Nabisco. Especially Fig Newtons. I have tried other brands but theirs is the best tasting.
12. Silk. I like their soy milk products.
13. Alfred Dunner. These conservative clothes don't express my personality well, but they always fit and they look very professional. My closet is full of them.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Dead Cow
One of the interesting things about farming is you get to have blog titles like "dead cow."
This could be a disgusting entry. You have been warned.
Turns out our poor cow was struck by lightning, according to the vet. He came out late yesterday evening to take a look.
We had no storm Monday night but they did have one about 6 miles away. I guess she took a wayward bolt.
Lightning does interesting things to cows. According to my husband, when it strikes them it cooks them immediately from the inside out. They bloat up immediately.
Vultures hover but won't eat them. They like their meat raw, I guess.
I am not one to go look at dead bloated animals for myself, so I will take his word for these things.
The cow has been buried.
These are the real-life things that go on when you farm. Sometimes things are not good. Not only did we lose a good cow, it is an economic blow. We lost too the calf she was carrying and any future stock. We'll have to lay out more money to replace her.
Farming is full of hazards. Lightning is only one of them.
As a side note, we still don't know what stampeded the cows and killed the goose. Apparently that was an incident separate from the dead cow.
This could be a disgusting entry. You have been warned.
Turns out our poor cow was struck by lightning, according to the vet. He came out late yesterday evening to take a look.
We had no storm Monday night but they did have one about 6 miles away. I guess she took a wayward bolt.
Lightning does interesting things to cows. According to my husband, when it strikes them it cooks them immediately from the inside out. They bloat up immediately.
Vultures hover but won't eat them. They like their meat raw, I guess.
I am not one to go look at dead bloated animals for myself, so I will take his word for these things.
The cow has been buried.
These are the real-life things that go on when you farm. Sometimes things are not good. Not only did we lose a good cow, it is an economic blow. We lost too the calf she was carrying and any future stock. We'll have to lay out more money to replace her.
Farming is full of hazards. Lightning is only one of them.
As a side note, we still don't know what stampeded the cows and killed the goose. Apparently that was an incident separate from the dead cow.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Nightmares
As the wife of a firefighter, this is my worst nightmare:
South Carolina Blaze Kills Nine Firefighters Cause of Warehouse Fire Under Investigation
By BRUCE SMITH
AP
Posted: 2007-06-19 10:36:52
CHARLESTON, S.C. (June 19) -- Fire swept through a furniture warehouse,
collapsing the building's roof and claiming the lives of nine firefighters in a
disaster the mayor described Tuesday as "difficult to fathom or quantify."
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