Saturday, September 30, 2006

Father and Jack- dream journal

Father won a bottle of Jack Daniels in a raffle. He stood in front of the assembly drinking it and talking loudly and generally acting foolishly. Mother tried to take it from him and encouraged him to have something to eat. He said all he wanted was the Jack Daniels.

We were swimming in a very nice pool when they suddenly drained the water. I thought maybe you just couldn't see the water and tried swimming anyway.

Sweet Normalcy


Ah, how nice to get back to work and have a nice normal night and be "hitting the hay" at 0800, getting ready to spend all day in bed.

Rose

Friday, September 29, 2006

Dr. Laura- talk radio

Our local radio station has morphed from country music, which I love, to talk radio. I have a sort of love/hate relationship with talk radio. If it is on, I am compelled to listen to the current caller's story and the subsequent advice given. Then I fume about the idiocy of the callers who cannot think for themselves at all and the rudeness of the talk show host, or the inadequacy of the advice offered.

Today it was "Dr. Laura", who I've never been able to stand anyway. Most of the advice I heard today was basically sound, but the lack of grace with which it is delivered offends all my sensibilities.

Note to self: listen to CDs in the car.

Rose

Thursday, September 28, 2006

old fashioned roses- book club today



I attended the first fall meeting of the local book club at the library today. Having never been to a book club before, I didn't know what to expect. What I found was a nice hour or so of chatting about our favorite books. I was younger by half than anyone else there, so I'm the winner, because these people have had a lifetime to read wonderful books to tell me about.

I lazed about the rest of the day; my excuse for doing so is wearing thin. It'll be back to work for me tomorrow.

Rose

Tea with Mussolini- movie review

link

I suppose I'm the last person in the world to see this delightful film. I love Dame Judy Dench no matter what she does, Cher really delivers as Elsa, and Lily Tomlin's Georgie is unforgettable. The cinematography is flawless, the costumes, the landscapes, the art and architecture dazzle.

Aside from all that, who couldn't love these ladies who embody the spirit of humanity that all of us should emulate? No matter whether we like each other or not, let's love each other in the face of whatever obstacles stand in our way.

R.C.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

The River- movie review

link

Why do we always quarrel with the way things are?

You can't change anything simply by wishing it were otherwise. You can't bring anyone back to life or get your leg back or make someone love you.

The film is a nice story beautifully shot and full of lovely images of India and information about the culture.

The other thing that I really liked was Mr. John's sentiment that we ruin childhood by filling children's minds with our taboos.

Is it better to live fully and die young or live carefully and live to old age?

The Hindu mindset that pervades the piece is a worthwhile reminder for us to have a more peaceful and accepting attitude toward life.

R.C.

fulsome- word of the day

fulsome \FUL-sum\, adjective:
1. Offensive to the taste or sensibilities.
2. Insincere or excessively lavish; especially, offensive from excess of praise.

He recorded the event in his journal: "Long evening visit from Mr. Langtree--a fulsome flatterer."
-- Edward L. Widmer, Young America: The Flowering of Democracy in New York City

Concealed disgust under the appearance of fulsome endearment.
-- Oliver Goldsmith, The Citizen of the World

Fulsome is from Middle English fulsom, from full + -som, "-some."

foggy walk

It's a lovely sunny afternoon here, but the rim of clouds over the hill tells me that it's foggy by the lake. I'm going to take advantage of my new freedom to go for a walk. Come along, but only if you can keep quiet.


They've put up new flora plaques. Let's learn some botany.



It's a beautiful misty afternoon at the lake.











Listen, I hear the tapping of a red-breasted sapsucker.



















At the end of a dog-leg from the main trail, we come to the dunes. The ocean is right there above the tree line, but the fog is hiding it.








As we round the corner by the parking lot, the sun is breaking through the mist.


Thanks for coming along.

Rose

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

perfidious- word of the day

per·fi·dy [ púrfidee ]
noun

Definition:
deliberate treachery: treachery or deceit ( formal )

[Late 16th century. < Latin perfidia < perfidus "treacherous" < per fidem decipere "deceive through trustingness" < fides "faith, trust"]

per·fid·i·ous [ pər fíddee əss ] adjective

Friedrich Nietzche- quotes

The Christian resolution to find the world ugly and bad has made the world
ugly and bad.

The Gay Science, section 130

The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher
esteem those who think alike than those who think differently.

The Dawn,
section 297


What else is love but understanding and rejoicing in
the fact that another person lives, acts, and experiences otherwise than we
do?

The most perfidious way of harming a cause consists of
defending it deliberately with faulty arguments.

The Gay Science, section 191



another favorite rose



I have been having trouble uploading photos, but this compressed file worked fine, so here is another favorite of the pictures I took at the rose garden with Mother and Father.

I vacillate between wanting to air my gripes about their visit and wanting to just move on. It was very nice to spend some time with them. I hadn't seen them in over a year. It seems our weekly+ telephone chats have kept me pretty happy. I guess I just got tired from not getting as much sleep as I'm used to and being so productive all the time, what with two cooked meals a day, chauffering, tour guiding, game playing, walking and whatnot. It makes me wonder if j. isn't right and I'm really not equipped to have children.

As things so often happen, it seems our 'gardener' showed up to do the lawn nearly the moment Mother and Father pulled out of the driveway. On a more positive note, the new stereo equipment has arrived and we will have a working stereo and television once more, which is just in time, since all I want to do is vegetate on the sofa watching movies for a while. I must stock up on junk food.

Sorry I was absent during the visit. Time to get my blogging feet under me again. Some of you should be expecting calls from me. That works well with vegetating.

Rose

another disturbing dream journal

A mentally handicapped boy suddenly dies from an arrhythmia at church. He is taken home by his father and two church members and shrouded and toasted with milk in a very strange variation of communion. I sit at the very out of tune piano and play Precious Memories very poorly while the family dresses for the funeral. Suddenly the boy struggles out of the shroud and sits up and asks for gospel music to be played. Everyone is upset at his recovery. They now rush to get ready for church. His mother appears for the first time with a very small nursing babe. There are many other children. They use the garage door to enter and exit the house. I can't find my shoes and finally run out barefooted. At church, the teacher is upset because she has lost her anonymity. I attempt to analyze the boy's telemetry strip. The tracing shows many unheard of rhythms before settling into atrial flutter after his recovery.

Sronnoc Esor

(My dream is broken as Father and then Mother knock on the bedroom door to say they are leaving for home.)

Sunday, September 24, 2006

playing hooky and loving it

As predicted, work was relaxing compared to entertaining Mother and Father. My urge to spout obscenities for no particular reason has blossomed in their presence so that every night at bedtime, j. is treated to a whispered litany of all my favorites. I spent a few hours with a blind patient in her ninth decade who couldn't remember she was in the hospital, but was enlightening on details of local history. I got to see some work friends who I've missed in the few weeks since I worked last. I made a little cash & then I came home and went to sleep while Mother and Father went to church. I was happy to wake up with both kitties cuddled nearby. I opted out of church this evening without bothering to offer an excuse, which is why I have time to type in this much-neglected-of-late blog. It's nice to have a moment to myself.

Does this mean I think I'm more important than God? Well, at the moment, yes. Are my priorities out of whack, as Mother and Father might have, but in fact restrained from pointing out? If I thought so, I'd be at church right now. Would I rather listen to j. snore than listen to the reverend drone? Most decidedly.

(As an aside, Is blogger beta worth it? It doesn't seem to be.)

Rose

Saturday, September 23, 2006

very busy



It is hard work entertaining my parents. Here is a taste of what we've seen. I am working tonight. That could be a rest.

Rose

Monday, September 18, 2006

another fine day

I woke up at the crack of dawn with j. this morning. It was raining, so I thought we would have to cancel our plans, which all involved outdoor activities. It stopped raining and cleared up by midmorning and we headed off to see the ocean, a rose garden, some black turnstones, pelagic cormorants, seals and sea lions, among other things. We went to a Greek restaurant for lunch and Father had hummus for the first time, which he thoroughly enjoyed. The lentil soup, however, was too spicy for him. Mother and I enjoyed panini sandwiches and bhaba ghanouj, which was delicious. They plan to stay until early next week. It's early to bed for me to rest up for more adventures. Poor j. doesn't know what to make of all this early rising and early go-to-bedding.

RC

Sunday, September 17, 2006

nothing to be nervous about

I made it through two church services today, and enjoyed the day otherwise. The important thing is, Mother and Father enjoyed the church that I chose. I thought the guy said some pretty spurious stuff, like claiming that tornadoes and hurricanes are God's punishment on America for having legal abortion. He was also pretty negative. When I go to church, I guess I like to hear a reminder to be a good person or something like that. We talked too much today about how vengeful God is supposed to be for my taste. There was also some singing that I considered to have dubious claim to be music. Al things considered, it was a good result. j. didn't go to church, and there was no questioning about the whys and wherefores of our worship habits or lack thereof.

In the afternoon, we went to see a house that we might be renting and then we played bocce in the yard. I never played it before, but I got the set specifically for this visit, knowing that Father has to be doing something active a certain percentage of the time. Mother won the game by about six points.

We had another late dinner- at least 8:30- and now it's time to "hit the hay" so we're ready for another full day tomorrow. I'll be exhausted by the end of this.

Rose

nervous- dream journal

I was at some kind of hospital where everyone was in wheelchairs. I didn't have the impression that I was working, but I was one of only a few people who could walk. I must have been nervous about something, pacing the halls continuously.

I was supposed to get a ride with my old BJU roommate, Leigh. I was very tired and wanted a bowl of coffee before we left. I went into the store and had to wait in line to order. I lost my temper when a few people shoved into line in front of me. After I ordered, I had trouble finding the place to pick it up. I passed a little movie theater that was under the mall with the stadium and screen right out in the hallway. Leigh's father was in her car and she told him that he wasn't supposed to be there and said, "I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again. Get away!"

Sronnoc Esor

p.s. Leigh had a great relationship with her father, but I must be nervous. Off to church this morning.

rc

Friday, September 15, 2006

visitors

Mother and Father rang the doorbell this evening at nine o'clock as I was just getting ready to drain the pasta. We hadn't expected them for several days yet, and their cell phone wasn't getting reception, so we didn't get any calls from them. It does happen to be the weekend I took off work, though. It's good to see them and I'm looking forward to showing them around tomorrow. For now, I must get my rest.

Rose

Saints and Angels

This song talks about real love and true religion. I don't believe either one is what we commonly think of them as. Love isn't perfect, but it is powerful. I've learned that it has more power for me than a God that I can't see. So that makes j. a saint and an angel to me. I've loved this song for a long time; hearing it again tonight brought a warm feeling to my heart.


Saints and Angels
by Victoria Banks
(recorded by Sara Evans)

We're only human, baby
We walk on broken ground
We lose our way,
We come unwound

We're turnin' circles baby
We're never satisfied
We fall from grace, forget we can fly
But through all of the tears that we cry
We'll survive

Cause when we're torn apart
Shattered and scarred
Love has the grace to save us
We're just two tarnished hearts,
But in each other's arms
We become saints and angels

I love your imperfections
I love your everything
Your broken heart, your broken wings
I love you when you hold me
And when you turn away,
I love you still, and I'm not afraid
Cause I know you feel the same way
And you'll stay

Cause when we're torn apart
Shattered and scarred
Love has the grace to save us
We're just two tarnished hearts,
But in each other's arms
We become saints and angels

These feet of clay
They will not stray

Cause when we're torn apart
Shattered and scarred
Love has the grace to save us
We're just two tarnished hearts,
But in each other's arms
We become saints and angels



Listen to the recording here.

Rose

Thursday, September 14, 2006

fanfaronade- word of the day

fanfaronade \fan-fair-uh-NAYD; -NOD\, noun:
1. Swaggering; empty boasting; blustering manner or behavior; ostentatious display.
2. Fanfare.

George Manahan made his debut this week as music director of New York City
Opera, and it is difficult to imagine someone laying claim to a major podium
with less of a fanfaronade.-- Justin Davidson, "A Director's Toil Pays Some
Dividends", Newsday, September 21,
1996

But like a demure singer in a long gown who is surrounded by chorus girls
in sequined miniskirts, the statue may seem slightly lost amid the
fanfaronade.-- Richard Stengel, "Rockets will glare and bands blare to celebrate
the statue", Time, July 7, 1986


Fanfaronade derives from Spanish fanfarronada, from fanfarrón, "braggart," from Arabic farfar, "garrulous."

left behind- dream journal

I was running late getting ready for school. Father was waiting outside in the pickup with Mr. Clean and Robin. I finally ran out with my things in my arms and Father pushed the door open and began pulling away, calling for me to jump in. I yelled that I couldn't get in while the truck was moving and just stood there watching him go. He lost control of the truck temporarily and went careening through the neighbor's large lawn before getting back on the road. I decided to ride my bike to school, ten miles or so. I rode along, frequently going onto the burm and once even into the creek, but it didn't affect me any, I just kept going. I got to Father's school, where we caught the second bus, took a shower and packed my lunch, and caught a ride with some friends.

Sronnoc Esor

(This event is not entirely unprecedented by reality. Father would get very impatient and pull forward in the driveway as if he was leaving. )

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

I'm a Great Aunt.

No, I'm not complimenting myself. My husband's neice (and therefore mine as well) just had her first baby. I'm on the fast track to something here. I've only been an aunt for ~5 years and I've already been promoted to great aunt. Meanwhile, I'm just waiting to be a mother.

R.C.

horse in the bed- dream journal

I was at work. There were nine patients and I had to take care of all of them. The two other nurses who were there weren't allowed to help me. I was very busy with a tube feeding for a while, but things finally slowed down. I noticed a man had gotten out of bed and was walking into my bedroom. I helped him find the bathroom. Later on, when I had gone to bed, the man came wandering into the room again, but this time he looked like a horse, part white and part rusty brown. The horse got in bed with me. Then it tried to bite me. I screamed and woke myself up.

Sronnoc Esor

brownies cockaigne

Here, for Ms. J, is my favorite from-scratch brownies recipe, which I found on the web but now have learned comes from The Joy of Cooking. For extra flair, pour half the batter in the pan, freeze until hard, spread a layer of all fruit raspberry jam, add the rest of the batter, and bake as indicated. Also, thanks to Nuthatch for the Golden Squares recipe. Delish. (Only three ingredients, Ms. J; near impossible to mess up!)

Brownies Cockaigne

Ingredients
1/2 cup butter
4 oz. bittersweet chocolate
4 eggs at room temperature
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup all purpose flour, sifted
1 cup pecan meats (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 Fahrenheit

Instructions
1. Melt the butter and chocolate in a double boiler. Remove from
heat.
2. Cool this mixture. If you don't, your brownies will be heavy and
dry.
3. Beat eggs and salt until light in color and foamy in texture.
4. Add sugar and vanilla gradually and continute beating until well
creamed.
5. With a few swift strokes, combine the cooled chocolate mixture into the
eggs and sugar. Even if you normally use an electric mixer, do this
manually.
6. Before the mixture becomes uniformly colored, fold in the flour.
7. And before the flour is uniformly colored, stir in the pecans
gently.
8. Bake in a 9x13 inch pan for about 25 minutes.


Rose

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

abuse of cuisinart- the story tells itself







a little gripe

Ever since j. has been training at the gym, he has allowed the owner, Ayjay, to use our car to run little errands in town like getting lunch or going to his parent's house to shower. He lives at the gym and there is no shower there. Well, today j. went to get some stuff out of the car for a client and it wasn't there. Ayjay had been gone for an hour and a half. He decided to go shopping in a town 25 miles away: that's a fifty mile trip. Then he had the nerve to wonder if we wanted money for gas. At the current price of gas, that's seven or eight bucks.

Well, although I scored an 82 in cooperation and only a 47 in assertiveness, it's there that I choose to draw the line. Unless Ayjay wants to make payments and put gas in the car, he isn't using it. The man is 36 years old and he acts like a child. What should I expect from someone who can't even remember the birthdays of his children?

Rose

old times- dream journal

I was artificially inseminated by some antiquated ceremony that had to be performed in a church on a hill. It didn't work.

I was at a dinner party with my husband, a man a didn't recognize, two men he said were my sons, and a stranger. My son made a gravy by pouring together red wine and chicken broth. The potatoes were very lumpy. There were ornate hangers on the wall with two pegs designed to hold chairs that were not in use. I tried to give my younger son money as he was obviously hard up, but he refused it, saying that he was being stolen from by his landlord, who was supposed to be a family friend. I have the distinct impression that this dream was medieval.

I was at BJU where I had to ride the bus to the cafeteria. I got on at the wrong end of the route, rode for a whole hour before coming back to where I got on and finally completing the ten minute ride to the cafeteria. The old lady bus driver told me that my skirt was too short and my pantyhose were too tight. I don't know how pantyhose can be too tight. I was wearing a lovely pink fitted suit that came to midthigh and had a slit. I was still thin. The bus driver started talking about how she knew that I had put on a lot of weight after my riding accident, she insisted I had fallen off a horse, and that's why my clothes were too tight. I told her I don't ride horses and never have.

The people on the bus were very worried about their friend. She had all her stuff in a dog food bag. They wanted to give her money. She herself wasn't there. She may have gotten stuck in a foreign country in a dangerous situation.
I was going for a run. There were a lot of hills and only a very muddy path for a while. Then I passed two churches and I was home. The leaves were turning.

Sronnoc Esor

Monday, September 11, 2006

The Memorial Day of the New Century

Reminded on all sides of the grim anniversary that today is, I pause to remember.

I remember hearing the news on the radio while driving to school and thinking it must be a joke.

By Google maps, we were only 64.7 miles from Shanksville, PA, where Flight 93 went down.

I spent part of the day with XBFRN; I remember not wanting to leave.

I was supposed to work at the airport that day, but it was closed.

I turned off the television to keep from seeing that horror replayed over and over.

I thought then, and still believe now, that we will lose our freedom to terrorism if we don't stand up and hold onto it with both hands.

In memory of those who gave their lives that day, I walk free and proud, my head held high. I do not fear what may happen; I fear that I will not respond bravely and boldly.

It seems apt to quote Abraham Lincoln at this juncture. I cannot say it as well as he did.

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a
new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men
are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether
that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. We are
met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of
that field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that
that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do
this.

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we
cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead who struggled here
have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will
little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what
they did here. It is for us the living rather to be dedicated here to the
unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It
is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us --
that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which
they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that
these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a
new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the
people shall not perish from the earth.

murder- dream journal

j. and I were walking in the mall very early in the morning when hardly anyone was there when I came upon a bloody toilet plunger. It was clearly a murder weapon, and I was afraid that it would somehow falsely implicate me if I pointed it out to authorities. I hid it in my pant leg and, careful to wipe off my prints stowed it in the ladies room where I hoped noone would find it. After that we walked around the mall for quite a while. Can't just run away after a move like that. j. and I got split up and I was in all sorts of long dark hallways and empty shops looking for him. Finally, the authorities started to swarm the mall, checking everybody. I skirted the cops by donning skates and cutting through the roller rink and we escaped.

After that I was summoned quickly to Sunday School, where there was some severe emergency with the kids. I couldn't make heads nor tails of what was happening there. Then I was running around with three guys in dry suits they had stolen. The guys they stole the suits from were hot on their trails, so they stripped off the dry suits and darted into a nearby plant nusery where they got work uniforms and jobs. I wanted to buy a potted yellow rose, so I put it in the plant holder that was built into the hood of my sweatshirt. I wanted some burgundy mums and the boys that worked there were busy trying to convince me to try mauve, cranberry and a lot of other reds that I didn't want.

Sronnoc Esor

Sunday, September 10, 2006

the sun'll come out tomorrow- never doubt it


After two days of mild to moderate agony and apathy, I am out of the pit (and hopefully far enough away that I'm not going to fall in again anytime soon.) In case you didn't figure it out, the moaning was the usual, predictable malady, pronounced by increased odds from the absence of agony last month. Finally, this evening, I got out of bed, prepared my signature comfort meal of grilled cheese sandwich fingers dipped in tomato soup, and popped Northern Exposure in the DVD player. I followed that with fresh peaches and strawberry jell-o; and even did a long yoga workout, trying out some new poses to work into the class. After groaning and demanding to be waited on all weekend, it is remarkably refreshing to want to do things for myself. I'll not torture you further with my failings (until next time I'm feeling poorly.)

Rose

my personality score

My Personality
Neuroticism
34
Extraversion
16
Openness To Experience
79
Agreeableness
65
Conscientiousness
45
Test Yourself Compare Yourself View Full Report

MySpace Surveys, Bebo and MySpace Layouts by Pulseware Survey Software

ambush

I was knocked to me knees from behind by a solid blow to the mid-section. As I lay curled helplessly on the ground, a kick in the kidneys sent me tumbling into a steep-walled, dark pit with a tiny ring of light at the top. I foggily assessed the damage; I felt as if every bone had been broken. Fairy sprites in the form of kittens licked my wounds and gave me their own warmth to soothe my ailing body. The spell they wove around me made me sleep and gave me sweet surcease from pain.

When I awoke, gradually and cautiously, the sprites still in attendance, I attempted to scale the sides of that vile abyss to freedom. I was making progress, the circle of light was growing, when suddenly a pike darted down from above and returned me to the bottom, in worse condition than before.

Now I allow the fairy sprites their ministrations and idly contemplate the possibilities. Although it is dark, I am getting used to it. The kittens make it tolerable and even pleasant at times. I will stay a while and gather my strength. When I am well enough, the ambushers-in-the-dark will skulk away without showing their faces out of fear for me.

Rose

Saturday, September 09, 2006

face in the sun- an abstract expression

down the road- dream journal

To get to the place I had to park at the farmhouse and walk through it. I then went down a dusty road and over a bridge. I don' know what it was or what I was doing there. It was something like a large truck farm. When I went to cross the bridge the other way to leave, some of the men who worked there started reaching out to touch me. It scared me. A few men put me on some kind of wagon or gurney and pushed me down the road, through a mob of men. The crowd parted in front of us, and soon I was back safely at the farmhouse.

As I walked down the hall and into the kitchen on the way back to my car, a woman spoke to me. She was arranging flowers. I apologized for being in her home and explained the reason. She told me it was okay and struck up a conversation with me. We talked about the remodeling she had done to the building. The walls used to be painted bright rainbow colors and she had replaced it all with a warm brown. I told her I always thought it would have looked nice if the natural brick and log structure had just been shellaced.

I began to notice multiple slides and stairs leading to the basement. Men dressed in work uniforms with helmets were coming and going. I understood that they kept the furnace burning that heated the place. I got in a conversation with one of them when the lady went outside to get more flowers. She was arranging a dinner party. Banquet tables were set up in several different rooms, but she said the party wasn't to be for a few months yet. She then invited me to come live in number eleven. I used to know someone who lived in number eleven and remembered it being nice.

Sronnoc Esor

Vade mecum- word of the day

vade mecum \vay-dee-MEE-kuhm; vah-dee-MAY-\, noun:

1. A book for ready reference; a manual; a handbook.
2. A useful thing that one regularly carries about.

The reader who wants honestly to understand it, and not merely read
into it his own ideas, needs some kind of vade mecum to provide
the necessary background and explain unfamiliar words and allusions and strange
turns of thought.-- Robert C. Dentan, "Including Uz and Buz", New York Times, November 17, 1968

Roget's Thesaurus, which had come into being as a linguistic example of the
Platonic ideal, became instead a vade mecum for the crossword
cheat.-- Simon Winchester, "Word Imperfect", The Atlantic, May 2001

Vade mecum is from Latin, literally meaning "go with
me."

Question for my readers:

What is your vade mecum?

Mine? depends on the day:

Taber's medical encyclopedia or Focus Guide to North American Birds

Rose

Friday, September 08, 2006

teaching- dream journal

I was preparing to teach fourth through sixth grades in the upcoming school year. I had my room and most of my teaching materials and lesson plans ready when my brother Mr. Clean told me that he wanted to teach those grades and asked if I could teach high school instead. I agreed. Then there was the first day of school where I did a live demonstration of a blood transfusion on the phlebotomist from the lab. I ran it in a bit fast: about 30 minutes instead of four hours. The scene sort of morphed into the hospital where I couldn't find any of the supplies I needed, someone was going without TPN for most of the shift because I couldn't find an IV pump.

Sronnoc Esor

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Hamlet- movie review

link

the complete play


This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night
the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.

It's hard to follow the genius of the master playwright himself with a fair review. I've chosen a few favorite quotes above, but the best review would be to follow the link and read the play yourself. Full of food for thought enough to chew over for a great while.

What is madness? What causes it? Who determines who the sane ones are? Are we all crazy, and perceive those few sane ones to be mad?

Is it crazy, like Hamlet, to see the spirits of those dead? Is it crazy to grieve like Ophelia and take your own life? Is it crazy to murder your brother for his crown and his wife? Is it crazy to seek revenge for a loved one's death? Is there an cure for madness?

Madness is to think of too many things in succession too fast, or of one thing too exclusively
Voltaire

'But I don’t want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.'Oh, you can’t help that,' said the Cat. 'We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.''How do you know I’m mad?' said Alice.'You must be,” said the Cat. 'or you wouldn’t have come here.'
Lewis Carroll

It is only too true that a lot of artists are mentally ill- it's a life which, to put it mildly, makes one an outsider. I'm all right when I completely immerse myself in work, but I'll always remain half crazy.
Vincent van Gogh

There is no genius free from some tincture of madness
Seneca

Idiosyncratic belief systems which are shared by only a few adherents are likely to be regarded as delusional. Belief systems which may be just as irrational but which are shared by millions are called world religions.i.e. When a man suffers from delusions he is described as mad but when a million do so they belong to a world religion.
Anthony Storr


See if thinking about it doesn't drive you crazy.

R. Connors

Shadow makes her own toys


(After much frustration, trying to post this for two days, I finally realized that I wasn't using a jpeg.)

Shadow loves to go get her rubber band and hook it on a stationary object, often the piano pedals, and play the banjo with it. I had the good fortune to catch her in the act.

Rose

Pervicacious- word of the day

pervicacious \puhr-vih-KAY-shuhs\, adjective:Refusing to change one's ideas, behavior, etc.; stubborn; obstinate.

In fact, I'm a word nerd. I get a kick out of tossing a few odd ones intomy
column, just to see if the pervicacious editors will weed them out.-- Michael
Hawley, "Things That Matter: Waiting for Linguistic Viagra", Technology Review, June, 2001

One of the most pervicacious young creatures that ever was heard of.-- Samuel
Richardson, Clarissa

The language of the bureaucrats and administrators must needs be recognized as
an outgrowth of legal parlance. There is no other way to explain itspervading,
pervicacious and pernicious meanderings.-- New
York Law Journal
, May 27, 1909

Pervicacious is from Latin pervicax, pervicac-, "stubborn, headstrong," from root pervic- of pervincere, "to carry ones point, maintain ones opinion," from per-, "through, thoroughly" + vincere, "to conquer, prevail against" + the suffix -ious, "characterized by, full of."

bumper cars- dream journal

I was on some kind of trip. I was staying in a co-ed dorm sort of like an old cabin at summer camp. When I woke up to go to the bathroom, I had quite a little walk. The kitties had to stay in some kind of little kennel. I left my striped zoo blanket with them. I drove the car down to check on them and couldn't find the brake. I went careening into the lawn and was about to hit a palm tree when I finally bent down and pushed the brake with my hand. After that I put the car in first gear and drove around very slowly. The kitties didn't want to stay in the kennel and Robin was helping me with them.

Then I found out that you can get genetic modules for people for physical features or personality traits. I guess there's a zip up panel in the back where you change them out.

Sronnoc Esor

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

yoga class

I had just j. and one other person at the yoga class. j. says it needs to be longer, but was otherwise good.

Rose

A Song of Peace

This song is in one of my piano books. I came upon it and played it today. As always, the words and the music carry much meaning for me. It used to be played on the school bus when I was in grade school.

Our conservative mindset was outraged by the idea that God is merely watching from afar, doing nothing. Today, I ask, what does it really mean? Is it a theological statement that God set the universe in motion and watches to see what happens? Is is meant to be a comfort that at least God is there?

More to the point is the content of the verses. If only I could go to that place where there is nothing but the peace and calm of nature and stay there. If only every one did have enough. If only no one were fighting. If only harmony and hope and peace and love enveloped us all.

I am reminded to promote harmony and hope and peace and love in the circle that I can reach. I am encouraged to find the good in myself and others and to exude positive energy to those around me.

From a Distance
words and music by Julie Gold, 1986

From a distance the world looks blue and green, and the snow capped
mountains white.
From a distance the ocean meets the stream, and the eagle takes to
flight.
From a distance there is harmony, and it echoes through the land.
It's the voice of hope, it's the voice of peace, it's the voice of every
man.

From a distance we all have enough, and no one is in need.
There are no guns, no bombs, no diseases, no hungry mouths to feed.
From a distance we are instruments, marching in a common band.
Playing songs of hope, playing songs of peace, they're the songs of every
man.

God is watching us,
God is watching us,
God is watching us from a distance.

From a distance you look like my friend, even though we are at war.
From a distance I can't comprehend what all this war is for.
From a distance there is harmony, and it echoes through the land.
It's the hope of hopes, it's the love of loves, it's the heart of every
man.
It's the hope of hopes, it's the love of loves, it's the song of every
man.


Namaste,

Rose

odds and ends

I can't remember the story line, but Brownie was in my dreams again last night. As usual he was hyper-friendly and completely platonic.

Mother and Father left for Oregon today. They will be taking two weeks or so to drive from Pennsylvania to Oregon in their big Chevy Express van. They intend to take in all the sights and increase their bird lists. Wave if you see them. They'll be on a back road, propably driving in circles. Kindly point west.

House cleaning is beginning in earnest in preparation. Yesterday was floor mopping. I'll probably even dust before they arrive.

I got my deck of yoga poses in the mail today. The mailman made a great production out of stuffing that, along with two Netflix movies, and a lot of junk catalogs in the mailbox. It was a bit of a struggle getting it all out.

I've spread out the cards on the floor in the order I plan to teach it. I've run throught the sequence in fast forward twice on my own and once with j. so far. Before class, I plan to do a final practice in real time. I'll let you know how that goes when I get back. I'm starting to hope that no one shows.

Kudos to my neice, A.E., who is about 14 months now, on peeing on the potty. Big girl!

Robin, here's hoping nursing school is going well. I miss talking to you, but I know you're busy.

Big M, welcome to Blogland.

Rose

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

continuation of the in-laws saga

(for part one, see archive from July 19)

A while after Obbie's death, her two sisters started coming around. They would ride around town with Joe in his convertibe, all three in the front seat with the top down. The one we'll call Gimlet started going to Florida with Joe every summer. She was the youngest one, and had always been homely. She was never married. She spent her life cooking for her brothers and caring for her sister, who eventually died of hepatitis that she got on a cruise. She had worked for the state and retired with some money put away. Joe was bad with money. All his property was mortgaged at least twice. The local banks, where his name used to be like gold, turned him away. So he started borrowing Gimlet's life savings. He spent it all in very little time. People started asking Joe and Gimlet when they were getting married. Gimlet had been waiting for this all her life. Joe was pressured into a marriage he didn't particularly want for the second time in his life.

j. reluctantly made the trip to his father's second wedding, hoping to talk him out of a second marriage at his age. Joe was closeted away, refusing to talk to anyone. Turns out he was not only reclusive, but ill. He went through with it, though. How could he not marry her after he spent all her money? Gimlet moved into the family house on Ocean Avenue and she's never left. She has been systematically giving away or throwing away Obbie's things.

I forget how long Joe and Gimlet were married. Joe had a swallowing problem that was giving him increasing trouble. His daughter Patience made an appointment for him to see a specialist. Gimlet couldn't wait for the appointment though. She made her own appointment for Joe with a lesser local doctor. Joe went in for an outpatient procedure on his esophagus. When he came home that night, he complained of pain. Gimlet told him not to be such a baby. She started giving him antacids, disregarding the doctor's instruction to take such an event seriously. Finally, Joe returned to the hospital. His esophagus hadn't stopped bleeding. He bled out on the operating table, full of liters and liters of fluid that made him unnaturally bloated in his coffin.

In his will Joe had made Gimlet trustee of all that he had, given her the house outright, and cut out j. completely. She is mismanaging it to this very day.

R.C.

Monday, September 04, 2006

scan- dream journal

I waited anxiously for the man to return and tell me the results of the scan. Had the egg been fertilized? Had it stuck? Finally, I sought him out in the upstairs attic room.

"Did it work?" I asked.

He replied confidently, "Of course."

j. and I hugged and kissed and cried a little. I shouted out to a woman passing through the room that I was pregnant.

Sronnoc Esor

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Are all auto mechanics male shovenists?

It was past time to take the car in for an oil change. Since we traveled to Urban Center today, we decided to have the Wal-Mart lube guy do it.

This sparked my memory of the last time we did that. j. went into the store while I handled the work order. We were supposed to be paged in store when it was done, but after an hour or so without hearing anything, I headed back to the desk to inquire. The man informed me that they hadn't started yet because they wanted to tell me that there was no oil in the car when they started. I signed the form and told them to hop to it. Near another hour must have passed when we checked again and they were almost finished. Mr. Mechanic informed me that the tires were dangerously bald, and I should have them changed as well. j. showed up at this juncture and told Mr. Mechanic that we didn't want new tires.

Now our car is leased, low miles, and less than two years old. It has very sophisticated warning systems that would certainly go off in the absence of oil. Not only that, but I can change the oil quite capably myself, I just prefer not to.

So today, I asked j. to take care of the details while I shopped. Don't you know, everything was fine? Those same old tires that we had before grew new tread apparently, cause they aren't even bald anymore.

It sort of riles me up that I can't do something simple like get the oil changed without being preyed upon by opportunists who see women as easy targets. I suppose that guy hits his wife, if he managed to get one somehow.

R.C.

Random Quotes Meme

Link to the random quotes website and browse until you find five quotes that represent your thinking.

I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me is the Stern Fact, the Sad Self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from.
Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.
Epictetus (55AD-135AD)

Seize the moment of excited curiosity on any subject to solve your doubts: for if you let it pass, the desire may never return, and you may remain in ignorance.
William Wirt (1772-1834)

Person to person, moment to moment, as we love, we change the world.
Samahria Lyte Kaufman

The fact that a believer is happier than a skeptic is no more to the point than the fact that a drunken man is happier than a sober one.
George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)

Rose

Friday, September 01, 2006

Sleepy Hollow- movie review

link
Derived from the story by the same name by Washington Irving.

The use of color and lack thereof in this film is breathtakingly effective.
The most vibrant colors are in dream sequences. However, when the evil is defeated at the end, the color becomes normal.

“This is the only book I recommend you read.”- Rev. Steenwyck, referring to the Bible.
A book containing compilations of spells is given to Crane by Katrina van Tassel. The book protects him from being killed by a musket ball.

The question I kept asking throughout the movie was: Will science or superstition contain the solution to the murders? The delightful answer: both.

“Villainy wears many masks, none so dangerous as the mask of virtue.”

A clever retelling of an old story. I could have been happy without some of the gory special effects, but they were generally well done, with exceptions.

What is the true answer to what caused all this evil?

Selfishness and Greed.

Whether you believe in witchcraft and supernatural events or not, you have to believe in that. And that makes the story pertinent.

R. Connors

what's happening to the farm? dream journal

There was something about being hungry at work. I had noodles in my locker, but I had to clean out the container before I mad them, because I had left something in it before. People were passing around a sign up sheet to study for something. I can't remember what.

I was in the back field at Granny's farm, just taking a walk. I found something that didn't belong there. Then I ran into some friends, I don't remember who. We noticed the condos on the property. Some were new and were being rented out by tourists. Others wre in a terrible state of disrepair. I decided that I wanted to explore the ruins. We tried a few doors that were locked before coming to one that hung ajar. We cautiously entered, only to find that it was full of feral cats that looked dirty and dangerous. We backed out and found another one that was open. I can't remember what was in there.

(This was surreal. There was a binder shed at Granny's that I loved to explore. It had cool old stuff in it. In the general area, farms are being sold to developers, but Granny's property is still intact.)

Sronnoc Esor