Outlook 2007

I realize it's almost 2009 and I'm JUST getting to use this, but OMG
it's so cool. If you flag an email, it plops it into your "to do"
list. Way customizable, too. I love it. But I'm at work so this
must stay short. :)

~nv

Photo shoot

Looks like a christmas tree to me, with a Cross on the top. What
people come up with when faced with a magnetic sculpture kit...

correction on photo/movie destruction

I think I just said I got rid of 10-15 GB of pics and movies... but
that's not true. It's gotta be at least 15, and then some. That's
because I was at 31GB free on my hard drive, and now I'm up to 46GB.
While I was cleaning up, I also emptied five 2GB camera cards. That's
close to 10GB of pictures I dumped on there, so the number's probably
closer to 20GB!!! I'm GOOD!!!!

Which is also scary... super scary... that I can have that much work
for my camera. Yikes!!

~w

DUST!

I've realized something again: Black products, out in the open, are
NOT conducive to a dustless appearance.

They do, however, promote dusting.

Nonetheless, that black stove of ours is NOT getting replaced by
another black product. Cream, White, Taupe, I don't care - but
nothing so dark so as to show every scratch, splatter, and speck of
dust ever created in a kitchen. It's just not right. (Of course,
whoever owned it before didn't exactly take great care of it, either,
so perhaps that's compounding my disdain.)

Oh, and I've also realized something else. Owning (or, more
accurately, paying mortgage on) a house that's large enough to
comfortably put things in seems to keep my messier habits at bay.
Having company over fairly frequently (once every month or two) also
helps. By company, I don't mean Paul. Paul knows I'm a slob so I
seldom neaten for his visits. Heck, I've got pictures of he and I
working on computers... it ain't pretty! Besides, I've seen his
apartment. Ha.

Anywho, tonight, some of our family is coming down to spend the night
so we can all have Thanksgiving together. So for the past two hours
I've dusted, wiped down, washed, trashed, rearranged, shredded, and
put things away. I could likely make an entire day of this but
somehow it's already significantly better, probably because of the new
vacuum. (New vacuum = new toy for me to play with = things get in my
way = I pick them up so I can vacuum. Tricksy, huh?)

I also realized that I still have too many clothes and need to give
more away. This was caused by taste changes over the years - but only
in part. The biggest taste change I've had is NOT having static
electricity coursing through my body, which is hard to control in the
winter months. So anything intended for winter that is polyester is
outta here unless for some crazy reason I absolutely cannot part with
it. I console myself with the sheer number of unwanted and unused
articles with the fact that many of them were in the single digit
dollar range.

Seems to me that the more often I simply stand up and walk around,
pretending I'm walking into my own house for the first time, the more
often I clean, consolidate, rearrange, neaten, and throw stuff out.
So maybe I'll just start doing that more often. LOL.

One last thing... I killed off about 12GB of photos and movies last
night. W00t!! I'm on a roll this week!!!!! Now if I could just
finish the iPhoto organization, get another external firewire drive,
and reorganize every file I can find onto ONE medium (okay, two,
because of the backup drive I'd mirror it with)... that would be
good... the thing in my way there though is cost. LOL

~w

Awesome pictures!!!

Really really cool!!! I'm including two of the images in the article
in case the article disappears... These were taken by someone named
Brian Valentine, and featured on Mail Online: "It's incredible what
you can find in an ordinary garden if you look closely enough.
Amateur photographer Brian Valentine specialises in making the
everyday look exotic with the wonders of macro photography, using
special lens to magnify his subjects."

The direct link to the site is:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-471914/A-drop-magic-Amazing-pictures-flowers-captured-drop-rain.html

cold?

I hope not, but it's felt off and on all day like I was beginning to
come down with a cold or something.

This evening upon returning home from work, it /really/ began to
concern me. I could feel it crawling around inside my nostrils and
sections of my throat. I felt irritable and tired despite a strong
desire to neaten up the house. And I /was/ exposed to /something/ a
few weeks ago, which I found out today has also attacked a colleague.

So, I went off in search of http://www.lionsgrip.com/cobyourself.html
and http://www.whfoods.com to "remember" which foods I should be
focusing on. Once I found them, I realized how much I wanted them:
Liver, onions, molasses, wheat germ, etc. I threw some liver and
onions in a fry pan with some butter and then realized I wanted a
scrambled egg, too, in a bit of olive oil. So, I threw that in. Then
I thought, "Might as well make this a full-fledged meal" and tossed in
some frozen veggies - onions and peppers - from a bag. I also
sprinkled in a bit of chili pepper and "chicken rub" for a bit of
added flavour.

OMG, delish. I had *no* idea how yummy this would turn out.

Hopefully, this plethora of vitamins will stamp out the cold that is
trying to take over my body. Now I'm going to go to bed...

YAY!!!

I have my address book back!! I should probably "back up" a few other
items as well but for now, this is what I needed and wanted the most.

After redoing Shady, I'd lost that, because I couldn't for some reason
get my profile to copy over into Leopard. But I was experience-smart
and had backed everything up twice over. So I booted from my external
firewire backup of the old OS X with all its stuff, and opened
AddressBook, and backed it up. Then I rebooted into the NEW OS X and
double-clicked that file. Presto! It dumped everything into the new,
empty, lonesome AB.

Now if only Citrix was easy like that. I'm working on a problem for
someone with one of those evil password manager issues. Gack.

Epitome of Efficiency

I'm the epitome of efficiency. I'm in the process of cleaning up and
revamping my iMac, Shady. Last night I did two full bootable backups
to separate firewire disks. Then this morning I clean-installed
Leopard (I had Tiger). Currently I'm waiting for my user profile to
copy back over, which seems to take over three hours. Not surprising
since it insisted upon copying EVERYTHING related to my user profile -
including all the pictures, docs, etc. So, I decided I'd simply move
stuff off afterward, since I now can't move stuff on a backup do to
permissions (even though I created the same exact account name
GAHHH!!).

Anywho, knowing it was going to be a while and I had stuff to do, I
opted to let it go while I did other things. So: I set Shady for
migration, then prepared to leave. I mailed something on my way out
the door, walked to the town office, paid water
bill, came up with video idea for a song whilst in the park for a few
minutes, returned home, showered, robed, called the vet, called about
getting a massage, and finally called this auto car starter dude.
Then I wrote much of all this to Dale at work, went and dressed, found
toast and tea, and am writing this now. I thought I had only ten
minutes left of the profile copy, but now it's doing the actual
documents and so it thinks it's 58 minutes now. Hmph.

Once done, I can set myself to do the REAL work, since I've done
everything else on my list for today. I should patent myself... in
the meantime, I'm going to go read since I have a stack of books to
either finish or start. I might go out on the porch for that, since
it's beautiful and breezy outside today and not hot at all. I was out
there playing in the sandbox while I waited for my toast and didn't
see one single skeeter, either.

Hm. Still at 58 minutes. It might be shorter than I think [i.e.,
it's really counting down but isn't displaying that, so suddenly it'll
just go POOF done]... or, something's wrong, or it has no concept of
time and it could be a few days. Oh well, off I go, then. Watched
pot never boils, as they say. LOL

~w

When Turkeys Can Fly!

I was driving down the road today and saw this huge flock of brown
birds on my side of the street, some in the street, some right next
to it. It looked like they'd just crossed and were going in the same
direction I was. I slowed down and they noticed me, so they began a-
runnin'. Next thing I knew, a few were airborne!! I knew they could
fly /some/ but what then followed was the rest of them. They
actually flew up in front of me and alighted in some trees!! I
didn't know they could fly THAT well. And then, I rounded the corner
and saw one more soaring ahead of me. I followed it momentarily and
then it disappeared on me.

Pretty amazing sight, that. Just wanted to share!

~nv

Bunny Church

Hehheh, no idea just how serious this is, but it's cute.  In all truth, many of their professed beliefs mirror my own, only I haven't attempted to picture God as a cute fuzzy wuzzy little bunny.  But, who are we to say what God would look like to another species?  I've always felt other creatures besides us humans must have some sort of spiritual awareness.  And further, I've always held a strong belief that no religion is truly wrong in all its beliefs - that any time you have someone believing in at least one "god," you've got one interpretation of _the_ Creator.

Anywho, here's the site.  At least if anyone does take it seriously and go out and does demonstrations, it'll be cute.

http://www.bunnychurch.com/

Mountain's Morning

As you may know, Dale's an outdoorsy hiking type. I like hiking,
too, when the conditions are just right - few bugs and cool weather.
In other words, rarely. When Dale suggested that we camp out on our
beloved West Mountain so we could catch the sunrise, I was excited -
I'd been wanting to do just that! But that was over a month ago, and
idealism is strong when a concept is conceived.

So when we realized we both had Labor Day to ourselves, we decided to
hike up Sunday night. I was eager at first but as the time drew
near, I realized I had a lot of qualms about it. What if someone was
partying up there? What if I couldn't carry everything I needed?
What if the mosquitoes were too thick? What if it got too hot/cold?
But Dale's eyes were brimming with excitement, albeit weary, as if he
sensed I wasn't quite as excited anymore. So I packed and took every
measure possible to avoid getting eaten by mosquitoes. Then I threw
my camera bag over my shoulder and off we went. I wasn't about to
disappoint Dale, and he wasn't about to go without me, either. I
know him. He comes up with awesome photographic ideas anyway, and
this was one I knew would be good. And, if I didn't go, he /would/
go up without me, and I'd walk home, heavily disappointed in myself
and feeling mildly abandoned. No, I /would/ go up there, bugs or no.

So, about a quarter way to the path up the mountain, Dale told me I
was doing great and we were already half way there. I laughed, my
legs already burning from the slight incline on the road!! But I was
still determined. Lack of air may have tempted me to turn back at
that point. The thought of the bugs was /still/ tempting me. But
burning legs? No. Still, on the last stretch of road where it was
even steeper, I started having second thoughts again. I began
voicing my prediction on how many skeeters would be up there, as they
were already buzzing around me now - even though, thus far, my
makeshift skeeter-proof clothing seemed to be an impenetrable - if
hot - fortress. Queries Dale: "Do you want me to run ahead so the
tent can be set up and you can get inside away from the mosquitoes?
No need for you to rush, you can slow down, you know." Bless him,
but... "No," I told him, explaining, "I need to keep going and push
myself before I change my mind and turn back." "Okay," he says. One
of the attributes I hold most dear is his ability to understand my
mood and somehow - knowingly or not - act accordingly without my
asking. He fell silent and plodded on with me as if letting me
concentrate. Perhaps he simply had nothing more to say but it
happens so frequently...

I pondered on this somewhat, which took my mind off "the burn" and
the fact I was indeed beginning to get winded. Suddenly, though, I
realized how tired I was. Dale asked if I wanted to rest. "No, I
want to make it to the first third," I told him. "You mean the first
junction?" he asked. "Yeah-- oh!" I exclaimed, realizing we'd just
reached it! The first third (as I call it) was easier than I'd
expected!! My energy returned, and I finally established myself on
the trail after a brief rest. It was growing dim. We made it
through the second "third," too. I was sure of myself more than
ever. And, finally, we were at the top, lickety-split. I was tired
again, but accomplished. But stopping made me painfully aware of the
swarms all around us. "neeeeeeeeeeeeee!" says the skeeters. "Bugger
off!" says me. Dale quickly set up our tent. I helped in between
swats and was surprised that even though they were all over me, they
weren't biting! Dale was covered in them, though. I tried to work
faster and ignore the whining of the little monsters.

Finally, we were inside the tent. We killed two or three uninvited
skeeters and a few tiny flies of some sort, then unpacked our bedding
and played cards by the light of our headlamps. Then we read for a
bit. I was a bit jumpy, and kept worrying that we'd be killed in our
sleep or something every time some random noise could be heard. The
sound of 4-wheelers scared me for a couple hours, but no one ever
came to our little sanctuary despite my imagination. Dale fell
asleep as I silently talked to myself in my head. "Yeah, things can
happen to people like us in places like this. But honestly. The
number of people that are NOT bothered in such places far exceeds
those that are attacked. Those people out there are simply
partying. They won't even come out this far." Eventually I started
boring myself with intentionally vague thoughts about colours and the
book I'd been reading. Finally, I fell asleep.

The sound of a struggling vehicle woke me up again. I listened
intently as my heart thundered in my ears, Dale snored, and the
leaves rustled in the breeze, trying to determine the location of the
vehicle. Then it stopped, and I heard a few doors shut. Laughing
punctuated the breeze, stopping my heart with each syllable. It
seemed to be coming closer but I wasn't sure. I couldn't see
anything - no flashlights, flames, or headlights. Nonetheless, I
woke up Dale in case they got even closer and could then hear us.
"Pssssst, Dale," I said, shaking him gently. No response. "Dale!"
I whispered fiercely. "Wake up!" "Eh?" he says, and to my chagrin,
begins rustling his covers so loudly I could scarcely breathe; I knew
it was crazy, but I thought we'd be dead within minutes, having
alerted the owner of the laughter to our presence and thus attracting
some fatal group of murderers to our location, all because /he had to
have a rustly sleeping bag... gahhhhh!/ Finally, he quieted and
listened with me. Shortly after the next laugh, which was about the
same distance as before, I heard his breathing get heavy again.
"Damn!" I thought inwardly, not wanting to wake him for fear he'd go
through the rustling again. I began coming up with scenarios as I
heard the laughing come and go on the breeze. The peeps come up and
start a fire just a few yards from us, and never see us at all.
Cool, I like that one, even though it means I'll still be scared
until they leave. Or! What if they're partying over there, and the
dude comes over to pee in the woods and bumps right into our tent,
collapsing on top of us? Even if they were all friendly, that would
still be quite a shock. Or what if they kicked us out of our tent
because they wanted to get away from the skeeters, and /we/ were left
stumbling down the mountain in the dark trying to escape? What if
they were drunk and dragged our tent - with us still in it - off the
edge of the cliff just for fun? What if they felt like beating on
someone? What if I got raped and Dale was beaten to death? What if
they slit our throats?! OMG I watch way too much CSI!! I thought as
my heart grew louder and louder. For a moment I thought I was going
to have a heart attack, and tried vainly to stop thinking. But what
if --

Oh my God, I thought with another jump out of my skin. The car just
started. Wait! The car just started!! They're leaving. They're
leaving!! "I guess they weren't that close after all," I whispered
over the roar of my blood, and Dale responded with another snore. My
heart continued heaving adrenaline through my capillaries. I
snickered at myself and wondered what time it was, how much longer
I'd have to keep watch (for I surely couldn't sleep now) before
daylight - and perceived safety - were to blanket us with relief.

It came faster than I'd expected. Somehow, as I lay there pondering,
I fell asleep and did not wake again until shortly before daybreak.
When I did wake up again, we were most definitely alone. It felt
peaceful. I listened to the crickets trilling their mating songs. I
listened to the trees rustling overhead and jumped only slightly at
the little thunks of debris falling upon our overnight home. The
occasional vehicle could be heard in the distance. We were safe. A
brief flutter of a thought was that perhaps we were NOT alone.
Perhaps we had company that was merely asleep, and I'd somehow slept
through their arrival. But no, I thought, not even trying to
reassure myself. There isn't anyone. We're alone. I can feel it.
I don't need to convince myself, now. I know it. I smiled in the
dim glow of dawn. We made it. /I/ made it!

Just then, as if to finish waking me up from a nightmare, Dale's
morning alarm went off. He woke up and I handed it to him so he
could ensure I'd shut it off properly. We ventured outside to
relieve ourselves and I got bit on the thigh by a mosquito in the
process. (Damn them!! They're such irritating little
opportunists!!) Donning my superhero skeeter-proof gear again, I
sauntered out with my camera toward the ledge and felt a small sound
of awe escape my throat. Dale joined me and we began to photograph
the awesome sight painted before us, glowing ever brighter with every
passing second.

Dale found another good spot where a heavy, cottonlike blanket of fog
could be seen comforting a farm off in the distance. The skeeters
were everywhere, but we were intent on getting our well-deserved
shots. Dale was a trooper. Even though I'd had my blood ransacked a
few got bit a couple times by then, I knew he was a far better target
in his less protective attire.

The sun peeked over the tops of the mountains and we took more shots
at our original location. Then, as it came up, we went down. On our
way we saw a frog, an eft, and finally, a chipmunk, who was very
patient with me as I flashed him a few times with my camera. Then,
before I knew it, we were at the bottom. It wasn't even 8am on this
beautifully clear, cool, and SAFE, Labor Day holiday.

Following this post are some of the shots from this fine morning.

Forsooth!

I wrote a friend of mine today and she responded that she missed my writing.  I couldn't help but respond:

Forsooth!  In sober joviality, dear Mawie, I must adhere to this one truth:  I am a mere writer at heart, those words of our Society being most dear to my soul; any such bastardizations of mine words shall cause Hell itself to fall upon me and a Cat of Blackest Fur to descend upon those who shall tear my words asunder.  For it is not I who shall live for ever, but those words which are uttered by mine very digits upon their flexing board.

(Don't ask.)

~nv

How DO they know???

Cats, I mean. I have been all over this house today. I've gone
outside, I've gone in the kitchen and put things away, I've gone
upstairs and back down again. If I'm upstairs long enough, Sinclair
will find me. If I'm not, he stays wherever he is. I went in the
kitchen to make tea and there's no sign of him.

Then I got myself a slice of pie and within seconds of my first bite,
he's pawing at my elbow. Now, it's not the smell. I have no idea
where that cat was, but he was NOT within sniffing distance of that
pie. If it were the sounds of the kitchen, then he would have been
all over me when I started running water and clinking dishes. And it
isn't the sound of plate on table because THIS time I have a paper
plate and set it wayyyyyyyyyy over on my scanner, far away from any
prying eyes.

I can only figure it's gotta be the sound of my mouth chewing. But
even that - how can he hear it on the other side of the house? How
does he appear so damned QUICKLY???

The only way I can convince him that I'm not eating (i.e., lie and
have him believe it) is if I swallow quickly and look innocent and
simply pet him and ask what's up. Then he might go away and only
come back if I don't eat fast enough to make him think it was just a
sip of tea or something instead. Egads...

Anywho, I just had to exclaim over that one. He does the same thing
to me in the kitchen... the second I dump tuna fish into a bowl, he's
there. He doesn't come to the sound of the can opener or dishes or
cupboards, only the plopping of the tuna into the bowl. Gah.

~w

Rats! I'm Pondering!

And remembering. I made breakfast this morning: Pan-fried bacon,
two slices of potato bread toast with Elderberry Jelly, and a cup of
Grey. Dale went off to prep himself for work so I sat at this
beautiful, empty counter with the few tasty items. I wasn't really
hungry but food sounded good to me. You know, sometimes you don't
really /feel/ like eating, but the concept of a well-displayed
breakfast takes you back into the recesses of your mind like some
instinct? Well, that was this morning. Today it was mixed with the
idea of cooking for Dale and seeing him off to work.

Hey, I don't want to be a housewife, but I do enjoying playing one
now and then when I've got the time and desire.

So I relax into the soothing green stool-chair that Dale's mom had
gifted us and take another bite of bacon. Mm. A bit overdone, but
still crispy - so close to how I like it that I'm overjoyed.
Everything is perfect save for my appetite, which is minimal. Then I
take a sip of tea and as I set the cup down, I realize with a start
that this is the same teacup that Gracie once drank out of. I still
have the picture in a frame on my desk: Little hooded rat, head in
the cup, little hands gripping the sides, the rest of her long,
slender body anchored on the desk. It looked like she was hurling
into a toilet bowl.

A murmur of emptiness mixed with appreciation for her few years with
me, the last of which was so full of such memories.

It's funny; I don't think this feeling I've been having off and on
for the past week or two is really sadness. Part of it has been
sheer exhaustion because I hadn't been sleeping well. Now that I
think back on it, maybe it was all the caffeine - and come to think
of it, I /did/ have a couple energy drinks in the past few weeks
too. So part of it was likely related to chemical imbalances brought
on by my own hand. I know better, and I pay for such drinks every
time because inevitably, once I have one Red Bull or Sobe, I must
have another. And another. And then I stop, but it's too late, the
poison is coursing through my veins like liquid flames.

But I know there's been something bothering me, too. I am not sure
what it is. I only know it's there, a deep longing for something I
can't have, whatever that something is. So, it's not sadness, per
se. It's like a wistful sensation buried deep in a pool of stagnant
emotions. The only tie I seem to make to it is desertion.

When Dale and I were first living together, I remember one night he
left and stayed out overnight. It was planned. I knew he was going
to do this, I'd known for over a week where he'd be and why, and how
to reach him if I needed him. I knew he'd call me, too, when he
arrived, let me know he was safe. I was looking forward to it, in
fact, because it so happened that I was in need of extra space and
loved the idea of having the apartment to myself all night. I
planned to spread myself all across the bed, the covers in complete
disarray, limbs hanging anywhere they wished. I would have the sleep
of a lifetime. No more sense of being limited by the fact someone
was so near, whom I preferred not to kick or smother as I passed the
time dreaming about stairs and talking elevators.

Then he left. I hugged him and made all the usual tokens of
temporary separation. He called later and everything was good. Then
he hung up and the room suddenly held cold ghostlike tendrils of
fear. I remember how I went up to our room and how isolated and
empty the room felt. I couldn't sleep. So I went back downstairs
and huddled on the couch, seized with fear and loneliness. I felt as
if some/thing/ were in the room with me, staring at me, lusting after
the shaking form under the blanket, wanting to wrap its cold fingers
around me, kill my spirit with one small breath upon my personal
space. I prayed; I told myself I was imaging this like a small child
imagines monsters under the bed. Still, my feet stayed planted next
to my bottom, drawn up onto the couch with the rest of me lest
something grab my ankle and drag me away screaming, paralyzed with fear.

Despite the overwhelming sense of dread, though, I found myself
analyzing myself. Why was I reacting so badly? Dale was only gone
for one night. The house wasn't a scary place. It felt happy to me
most of the time, neutral the rest. No one else was there. No one
had ever attacked me in that house. For the most part, it was a safe
place, a place where my happiest memories had truly begun to manifest
themselves into a lengthy reality. So, why, then, was I so terrified
of being alone in that house?

Abandonment. It hit me with full force. Consciously, I knew that I
had not been abandoned. Dale was coming back. I knew it in my
head. But being left behind has always been such a strong fear
inside me that seeing the darkness swallow me up without Dale to be a
tangible beacon in it... well, it left behind a small child terrified
of being left alone, unable to reason things out. Never mind the
fact that I'd slept alone for several years when I lived in that big
two-bedroom apartment by myself. Never mind anything that made
sense. I was alone, physically alone, for the first time in months,
and not because /I/ had left, but because /he/ did.

This realization helped ease the fear a bit, but I still couldn't
help crying myself to sleep. Fear created the monsters lurking
outside my safe little blanket-tent, but tears of frustration came
with the dawning helplessness.

Dale has gone elsewhere overnight several times since this, and each
time, it's gotten easier. I don't fully enjoy having the place to
myself, not like I always expect to, but at least now I'm not hiding
under a blanket, terrorized by my own imagination. Still, the sense
of desertion remains, even though he's there in so many ways that for
me it's like he's not even real sometimes. That scares me, too. I
know my imagination can be vivid at times, and I know crazy people
don't usually know when they're crazy. What if I made him up? He's
too perfect. The few flaws he might have were probably thrown in by
my mind to maintain some semblance of reality, so I don't doubt what
I'm seeing. It's not working. So I ask myself: If this is indeed
real, why is it that I have so much trouble accepting it for what it
is, for enjoying every possible moment?

But then, I wonder... perhaps I'm not enjoying it as much as I could
be, but I'm certainly appreciating it far more than many people
would. The constant flux of joy mixed with a childhood fear kind of
makes me appreciate it. I take moments out of my day to burn into my
memory the images of his face - his expressions, mostly. His eyes,
shining in the moonlight or glistening with the reflection of
sunflowers and trees and water and little bunnies hopping across the
street and deer and otters and squirrels in the park and ducks eating
bread in the pond. Like Gracie in her teacup, I don't want to ever
forget these little things. Her life seemed too short even though
she lived to slowly die of age. But my 31 years have passed in the
blink of an eye, and some of my memories have already become faded
with age. I don't want to forget Dale, ever. I want to remember him
forever, so that if by some unspeakable chance he should leave
forever... let's just say that I'd rather have warm happy memories
wrap their arms around me as I cry on the couch, rather than icy
scary ones.

So what am I longing for? I still don't know. Perhaps I long for a
happier past, something on which to draw relations to my current
reality. I've grown up quickly in the last few years. Too quickly,
I think. Yet I've done it with a good deal of grace if you ask me.
But with this kind of expedited growth comes a good deal of change,
which I'm not good with anyway, and which gives me an empty
blackboard, a fresh canvas if you will. I've reconstructed my life
to my liking but I wasn't raised with the hope of keeping such
happiness. Happiness is for the damned, or it's dangled in your face
like a carrot before a horse, tempting you to keep trying, thus
perpetuating whatever plan the master has for you.

My inner spirit says, "Damn that philosophy! It isn't true!! If you
keep working inside yourself, you CAN be free!! If you keep pushing
forth, you CAN have a good attitude!!" My recent memories support
this. My observations support this. But my inner child, my inner
parent, the two most disruptive creatures within me, refuse to
believe. Sometimes it takes everything I have to convince them to
keep their traps shut while I take care of them, hoping one day
they'll see that the world isn't as scary as they think it is.

Aight, see, I woke up all relaxed and happy, having had a wonderful
TV and Spiritual Room night with Dale followed by my first night of
real, uninterrupted, nightmare-free sleep, and now I've gone and
purged words out my fingers. Where were these words when I was
suffering from the cage-beating wing syndrome? LOL

~w

I am

I am me, so many things
I am happy
Oh so joyously happy
And sometime sadness
It plagues my tears
Anger grabs
Like tiny fistholds
And I am me when I am jealous
And I am me when I am zealous
I know my heart
When I sit alone
When we're apart
I know who I am
When I see the sun
It rises and it shines
Then it falls beneath the skies
I am
Hungry with insatiable curiosity
And yet I want to be asleep
Thoughts drowned out by an ocean deep
My soul allowed to search and reap
Its embers from the slowly dying coals
Like a glass of aging wine, so bold
My flavours daring to blend together
Every day I'm becoming simpler
And ever more complex
I am me, so many things
I'm crass and brass and sometimes sassy
My mouth can fire cannonballs
Yet fingers type diplomacy
And dance along the keys
Tiny faeries beating wings
And yeah, I dig those chicken wings
And I like pizza
And cream cheese and capers
And crackers and loch
Steak and potatoes are my fodder
And I love my mom's fish chowder
At times I don't mind getting drunk
And I can fart and burp and laugh a lot
But mostly I just sit and sip
Tasting layers of some wine
With my steak or a plate or crackers
Or throw back a couple BK stackers
Kukicha, Jasmine, Earl Grey, Oolong
Tea aromas can be strong
I love to dance to awesome rhythms
Or, sitting still, see algorithms
I cannot sing but yet I try
And when I'm happy I sometimes cry
I can be morose and I can be gross
And if you want some healthy dose
I've got some humour for your pain
For others' joy can be my gain
I can be dramatic yet robotic
Logical and quite sardonic
Sentimental, scared and caring
Shy and yet sometimes I'm daring!
Creative while I'm standing still
Crabby when I've fallen ill
All these things are me, you see
All these things let me be me
My mom saw all these parts of me
All the things that make me, me
And of the people that I know
Few can grasp that bit of soul
That dangles there for all to see
With one I've found eternity

Microsoft 1978

http://www.codinghorror.com/blog/files/Albuquerque%20Tribune%20-%20When%20Microsoft%20Was%20Local.htm

Interesting.  I'd always wondered who the people were in that famous picture.

Dream: House of Reflections

I had interesting dream last night, somewhat spooky but I don't think
it woke me up so it couldn't have been that bad.

I was sitting in rocking chair near a glass door, like on cabinet in
the wall (like the one in Mum's old bedroom). This one though was
jutting out into the doorway. Anywho, I saw my reflection in the
glass three times at once and was startled but not too scared. Then
I went out to another room and Mum said, "Did you see the woman in
the glass?" At first I said, "No," and thought ha, no... all I saw
was me" and felt sure of myself. Then Mum added, "Freaky, if you
do. She looks a lot like me." Then I was suddenly cold and said,
"Oh, shit! I saw myself three times in that glass. But /I/ look
like you. Maybe it WAS her!!" So I ran back to go look again, but
the eyes that looked back at me were still me. I was both relieved
and disappointed, because I wanted to see her but at the same time I
was terrified to.

Eventually I went back into the livingroom, where Mum sat near a
heater at a small table with two chairs. Mum had this odd smile on
her face and I sat down across from her, saying, "Okay, what's up?
Why that smile?" Without moving, Mum said, "See that couch over
there?" I looked over and saw a gray couch across the room, with two
picture frames in silver gild. "Yeah. So?" She said, "I thought
the pictures would make them happy." I said, "Them?" and Mum smiled
more and said, "Keep watching." So I looked back at the couch, both
curious and suspicious a little. Suddenly I saw the couch's seat's
apholstery rise up in little lumps here and there. They got taller
and then jumped around as if there were a superball under the
fabric. Finally, they were "holding" onto the picture frames and I
thought I heard giggling and laughing. I thought, "Mum's right,
they're laughing! They are happy!!" But I was still curious and
kept watching. Then I saw a boy and a girl, very young, sitting
there side by side holding the picture frames with these huge smiles
on their faces, laughing with each other and looking very earnestly
at the photos of these two old-fashioned people (which I felt were
their parents). They were black and white. The girl had brownish-
blonde curls that loosely hung down the sides of her face. She wore
a hat but I cannot remember how to describe it. The boy wore a
sailor's outfit (light blue). Both sat with their legs straight out
due to their stature and the typical size of the couch.

At this point, the girl decided to "try on" the smaller of the two
frames. There was a strap on the back and she slipped it around her
wrist. The boy tried to help her but then it tore off. They both
watched it slip back onto her lap and they promptly disappeared as I
watched, leaving both picture frames laying on the couch where they'd
left them. I felt bad for them but did not feel I could help.

At one point in the dream, Mum yelled over at me that "it's evil" as
I was walking up the stairs or something. I knew what Mum referred
to but ignored her and kept walking. Then later I came back down and
saw the table was gone. There was a puddle of water on the bare
floor that huddled up next to the carpet that began in the middle of
the room. I said, "Hey!! That's an ember from the heater!!" There
was a little orange flame attached to a piece of floating debris on
top of the puddle, slowly moving away from the heater. Mum didn't
seem alerted by this but suddenly this big dude was there and he
tried to put it out. Doing this caused it to turn into two, the
second one being larger than the first with actual flames coming up.
It moved faster toward the carpet. I said, "PUT THAT OUT!! IT'LL
CATCH MY HOUSE ON FIRE!" So he finally did something and it went
out, but the original one stayed there. I thought he should shut off
the heater or stoke it or whatever but didn't say anything. Then I
went in the "kitchen" and said to Mum, "You know, those heaters are
typically installed on a hearth and surrounded by stone floor, not
put on wood ones near a wall with flames leaping out near the carpet."

That's where the dream ended, but at least it was a bit more...
predictable... than the one where everyone was walking around in
their underwear with their oversized penises hanging out (including
myself). LOL

~w

Potatoes and carrots!!

POTATOES AND CARROTS!!!!! I dug up one plant for each. I thought
the potatoes were goners because the plants had dried right up and
died. Boy was I surprised to find two decent potatoes and three
minis!! The carrots are supposed to be baby ones and I picked one of
the smaller plants to dig up, so I'm excited about the two-incher
that was in there alone with a teensy one and a maybe-one-incher.
When I first started digging, I didn't feel anything near the ground
part of the plant. I found roots, but that was all. I smell carrot
strongly, though. So, I simply dug the whole plant right out of the
ground with the spade, sticking it straight down in on all sides as
if I were transplanting. When the dirt fell away, ho! Carrots!!

I'm now excited about gardening again. I was saddened when the
potato plants died but given the yield off one chunk of potato, it
was not bad after all. And, the green onions are doing marvelous.
They're strong and healthy and still growing. The peppers are still
little plants but healthy also and nicely green. Tomatoes have some
yellow spots unfortunately, but then, I never thinned them like I was
supposed to. The two by the door are getting taller every day! All
this, and all I did was nurse them for the first month or two. Now
they're all largely ignored and thriving... egads, first spinach, and
now potatoes and carrots! Oh yeah, and the coriander has sprouted
tall weedlike things with flowers... I've gotta make sure I collect
any seeds it sends out... and the parsley's still alive... that
should spread on its own if it does what the texts say... and the
pennyroyal - which I thought was just a ground cover - is sprouting
up with some taller shoots. Gotta look into that as I didn't expect it!

Well, I'm going to go read now... :) (Or write... LOL)

~nv

Inner Mind Workings

I was having lunch up at switchboard and we were chatting about the
world in general and how things have gone to pot in many ways. Most
of it was generalized character review of much populace. Then he got
a phone call about an atm card being left around the corner. I
overheard him [get louder and] say that he couldn't leave (true) and
that he'd get Security. I figured they'd demanded he go look for it
as it was so near the 'board and he'd had a few demanding callers
already. So in the back of my mind, I thought, "Well, you can't, but
zheezh, /I/ can leave... I could go over and look for it for the
person!" But then I realized he'd already mentioned Security, there
must be some policy that forbids a common I.S. person from doing such
a thing. So, as I inwardly cursed whoever made such a rule, the
thought was forced from my mind. This all happened in my head during
the split second it took for him to hang up. Such is the speed of
thought - lightning fast, deductive, assuming, dismissing.

As my thoughts swirled back to our conversation (which as I said was
about general population and the world going to pot) he looked right
at me, his voice still raised, and started repeating part of his
conversation. At first I thought our rather negative opinions of
some people had become energized because of the demanding caller.
Then I realized his voice was /really/ loud, his eyes piercing, and
it dawned on me that he was asking me to do something. This made me
panic because I had to reinterpret everything he'd just said to me,
which took several long moments. (Remember that I base a lot of what
people say on context.) As I completed my reinterpretation
[correctly this time], I knew he was staring at me with the look my
mother used to give me all the time, thinking, what the heck is wrong
with her? Why won't she respond to this urgent matter? That threw
me into more of a panic because it was like being a kid all over
again! He then misinterpreted the deer-in-headlights look for
fearful resistance to help my fellow man and said evenly, "The
thought of doing that frightens you and you don't want to do it."

At which point I said, "It's not that, I've been misunderstanding
what you were saying - I'll be right back." So I went out, found the
card, returned it to him, and we proceeded to chat about the
incident. He had a good laugh over my explanation several minutes
later.

Over the few years I've known Dale, I've told him much of my
experience with CAPD and the way my mind works. It's become apparent
that he may have some version of it as well and I wonder just how
many people DO think in such a manner. Wars could be getting started
over simple misinterpretation. Tower of Babel, indeed. So, when I
ask him something and I see his eyes glaze over, I simply wait. My
mother, I think, has seen that glazed look. Recently she said, "I
can't figure him out sometimes. I know he's smart but sometimes he's
so... quiet." I haven't told her our suspicions. LOL

I'm going back to my ice cream now.

Quote de Self

The past few years have shown me that limits are usually held, not reached. ~me.

Dreams

I was analyzing that dream I had this morning about Stan and the girl flipping out and the dried ice cream mountain and the terra cotta building where the flippy girl had a gun and was with me as if we were in a Western or Lara Croft movie... and came across this:

watching

    * A feeling of observing rather than participating

    * An objective or neutral observer's perspective

    * Curiosity or a desire to understand whatever is represented by the object being watched in the dream

The key line is the last one.  In most of my dreams, I've been an observer with little to no emotion.  There are a number of things I think about and feel I understand, and have in the past as well, so the fact that this last one strikes a chord in me makes me think... I am always trying to figure things out.  My dreams often contain items I can later analyze and figure out, so this is not surprising.  Still, I hadn't realized the exact extent of my analysis.

At any rate, the dream I had recently is probably about things changing, they usually are.  Several key elements seem to support this.  Most of it is likely about relationships and work.

The interpretations I've gleaned thus far now follow...

Orange (terra cotta):  Bold, outgoing, assertive, invigorated; Autumn, or "winding down" of a phase or cycle

Beige/tan:  natural, neutral, simple, relaxing, plain, basic, subtlety, formality.

Dried up (lost its moisture):   end of process/loss of potential, non-productive, idea of failure

Food:  nourishment, dessert

Ice cream:  desire for or memories of fun, fun activity, special occasion; happiness, as in eating ice cream with a certain person could mean that you feel happy when you're with that person.

job:  productivity, adding value, contributing to society, making a difference; activity that feels like work but shouldn't be; feeling of being forced to do something or help out in your life when you really don't want to.

mountain, slope, hill:  challenge, hurdle, obstacle, project/task, overwhelm, intimidate, dread; beauty or strength of nature; endurance or constancy over time.

gymnastics:  complexity (having to jump through hoops) to solve problem/goal; flexibility/adaptability; discipline or self-improvement over time; mental, emotional or physical activity.

gun:  wish for power; insecurity, fear; domination, aggression, self-protection.

Stan:  responsible, analytical, logical, feeling, protective, perty.

Girl flipping out:  protective, smart, energetic, confusing, strong.

*shrug*

TsOTD

This one will be long, because I've not blogged in a while and have
had some time to think and ponder.

First off, I need to listen to more music. I've been living in
silence lately. I don't know why. Music tends to vamp up my ability
to write actively - not just write, but write with /soul/. That's
probably because music provides so much feeling to my otherwise happy
but mundane days. All I know is, I miss writing. Not hard,
considering I used to write so damned MUCH and now I scarcely get a
fix through the gazillion unchallenging emails I wade through on a
regular basis (esp. work).

Second, I love my happy but mundane days. I'm in love! With a
husband of just over a year, no less. I've been watching him sleep
lately (although most recently I've been too exhausted to wake up
first). He talks in his sleep now and then and says weird things
like "it's already been counted." He has no recollection of the
dreams which may have inspired such phrases, so I'm left to wonder
what's going beneath those serene eyelids of his as he breaths
steadily and deeply, each exhalation a sparkling paintbrush full of
his happy spirit.

In addition to the wondrous thumpity thump that resonates in my chest
and threatens to break out at any given moment, I've rediscovered my
beads. This was in part due to the FAILURE OF TACO BELL to open on
time. (We'll get to that in a second.) Stopped into Michael's and
spent more than I'd intended on beading materials. To be fair, I
also bought a pack of rechargeable batteries, so it wasn't all
superfluous madness. But within this purchase, I learned how to use
crimp beads. Now, /these/ make life SO much easier. Not to mention
the fact they make things look so much more professional.

Back to Taco Bell for a moment. They were due to open yesterday and
when I drove all the way into town to wait for the hour of opening, I
noticed a new sign announcing that the date was moved to WEDNESDAY.
That's TOMORROW. Bas****s!!!!

Third... what else is going on... oh! Took a vacation. I'm still
kind of high on that, too. A whole week without work, I got to see
Mum, and Dale's mom even came along this time. WHOO! Then I worked
for one day and had a LAN party the next and now I've got the usual
three days off. 'sall good really because in August I'll be working
a crapload of oddball days and will likely need another vacation
after it's all said and done. OMG, I had a dream last night about
Stan... I dreamt that I was on some oddball mountaintop that was
whitish and kind of dry-spongelike, you remember that astronaut ice
cream? Like that. Anywho, I'm walking up and down the funky
hillside and there's this girl who's literally flipping out, as in,
she's moving weird and doing airborne somersaults and such. Stan's
wandering around, too, with a clipboard in his hands and a really
really stressed look on his face (more so than usual, even!) and I go
up to him to see what he's doing. He's like, "I had to reapply for
my job and it turns out I'm overqualified." At first I was aghast,
thinking, omg, does that mean he was fired? Then I realized he was
hired as a contractor instead, and as such, he was putting even more
pressure on himself because he was getting paid more as a contractor
than he was as an employee. Debbie R. nodded at me as if expressing
empathy for the guy. The flipping out girl and I were at some point
together in some dark corner of a building with guns as if we were
cowboys in a Western. Everything was Adobe coloured, too, you know,
that orangey red stuff the buildings out there are in abundance of.
What's with the funky colours? I don't think I saw one green thing
in any of my dreams last night. Highly unusual to be seeing moon-
coloured astronaut ice cream ground and red-earth-toned earth
towering above me. At least I still dreamt in colour. The black and
white ones are weirder albeit more familiar. But in those, there's
usually at least ONE colour, which probably indicates an area of
focus I need to explore. How do I explore terracotta? Further,
what's with the texture sensations? This was more about physical
sensation than any dream I've ever had.

LAN PARTY went really well. Had five of the seven expected folks
show up. I think it was actually a perfect number of people. Dale
was here at either end of the thing, because he had to leave for a
race (which he did very well in, btw). Oh, and I must mention Age of
Mythology. I'd heard of this but hadn't seen it until the LAN
party. Now I'm a bit of an addict. Oh!! Maybe that's where the
colour thing for the dream is coming from. OMG yes that's it. The
whitish ground in that game is a perfect match to what I saw in my
dream last night. I didn't know it felt like freezedried ice cream
to walk on it, though. My poor cavalry!

I'm gonna give up on numbering these thoughts. They're all
intermingled anyway. Better to just fingerblab and get it all down.
Shortly before vacay, I contracted a cold to invade my body. I don't
recall giving myself permission to do this, but I did it anyway so I
suffered a sore throat, headache, bodyache, drippy nose, and am still
coughing a bit. Dale had to swipe the keys from me while on vacay
because I was high on Halls. Didn't know you could get high on those
things, but then, I also didn't know there's a limit on how many you
can suck into your system, either. Whups... Then we got back, and
the next morning I woke up with an itchy rash all down my left side.
Doctor swears I slept on that side and had a reaction to something I
was laying on. Possible, since I did fall asleep on the floor rather
than in the bed, but I'm not sure what it could have been... for one
thing, it started on my hip which was covered by pants (I fell asleep
in my clothes). Second, I was wearing shorts, so if it was in my
clothes, how did it (later!) spread down the rest of my leg? And why
was it on my upper arm, when I was wearing a sleeveless tank? Yet,
it was definitely limited to the left side of my body, so... had to
have been something. At any rate, it's faded now.

Onto more serious things, I was pleased to hear Mum say that she's
glad I've got Dale. It felt like progress to me, i.e., she still
wants me to live there but is more easily accepting me for who I am
and the life I've chosen to live for myself. She still had to
interject her psychological opinions and state that I've transferred
my Mum-dependence onto Dale, but that's Mum for you. I didn't
respond because there are so many things one could respond /with/ and
I didn't feel like expending energy on such minute detail at that
time. I was just happy to be enjoying her company so much. It still
amazes me, though, that she's still so focused on my "problems" when
she's still got so much to work on herself. I mean, she moved away
and I was on my own for several months before Dale came along. She
left home to live with some dude and then focused either on a dude or
her kids and is still trying to live through her kid (me) even now.
Who's dependent on whom here? I had to tell her why it is that it
bothers her so much to have me around when there are some sort of
expectations tied with it. I mean, she still hasn't figured out some
things about herself that I figure would be pretty basic. Mum and I
both suffer from selfish tendencies which branch from a basic [human-
like even!] social need to be with people despite a brutally strong
solitary nature. In my case, I would be quite comfortable having my
person of choice sit somewhere nearby at all times occupying
themselves silently with some quiet gadget of their choice, idly
wasting time until such a time as I felt like speaking to them or
sending them away so I could be totally alone with just my own
thoughts. That would be company to me; I would feel reassured and
content. I know this, because I've always been this way and when I
was less aware of others' feelings, I tried to insist that this was
how those closest to me should behave. (Mum included.) It's like a
security blanket of sorts - I want the social interaction so bad, but
I'm so sickingly enamoured by my own thought processes that any type
of communication exhausts the living daylights out of me unless I'm
picking up some suddenly desired piece of information to fit into one
of many puzzles within my own thick heid.

Well, after years of Mum complaining about my wanting her to be
around but to remain silent whilst being around, I had to figure this
out. I spoke with a friend about it and explained that I knew
something was screwy in me because I love Dale and I love him being
here and such, but sometimes I wanted to scream because he was here,
even if he wasn't making any noise whatsoever. It made no sense to
me. She said she's the same way, she simply likes being alone and
sometimes even the mere presence of someone can get annoying. But I
thought about it further and realized that it's more than that.
Sometimes I do want to be completely alone, yes. That would probably
cause the desire to scream, you know, when someone's here all the
time and I get into one of those modes (which of course come on with
no apparent warning). But deeper than that - sometimes I fear that
my thoughts will be interrupted, no matter how quiet he's being on
the other side of the stairway. He can be completely engrossed, and
I'm happy for the longest time, until all of a sudden I realize that
he's been quiet over there way too long and is likely going to want
to involve me soon. And then, sure enough, I hurry to finish a
thought process and there he is, completely unaware of the internal
terror I've just been subjected to over losing a piece of my mind.
And so I then dive into my social memory banks and quickly retrieve
the instructions on how to become interested when someone starts
speaking, rather than striking up a conversation due to interest. I
move all my attention to figuring out how to stop focusing on my now-
losing thoughts, and try to focus on Dale's words, facial
expressions, and gestures. Eventually I remember to watch his eyes,
which finally engages me enough to interpret the sounds coming out of
his mouth if for no other reason than respect for this wondrous soul
whom I love. And therein was my problem. If I find this person so
lovable, so interesting, so humourous and kind, then why is it that I
frequently want him to simply shut up and go away? At one time I'd
have believed my mother - that I really don't feel this way about
this person and I'm lying to myself. But it's too effortless to know
my feelings, and it's not a blind thing. I know when I feel hurt,
and I know when I'm being a bitch. I've never been more sure of any
feeling because it's so different from any other human relationship
I've ever had. It's simple, too, even though it seems it should be
quite complex because it's so overwhelmingly wonderful. I know this
simplicity to be the key; it's an innately strong intuition that
simply makes sense on a very basic level no matter how
overcomplicated my mind tries to make it. Without fail, I cannot
explain it further than the one word: Love.

Thus was borne my theory and acceptance of my nature. Unwilling to
live without the kind of love I've found, I've learned to compromise
with myself, to learn about myself, and find ways to manipulate
myself in order to hold onto my other half. And by that I don't mean
Dale - I mean the half of myself that is social and that loves and
feels good. Dale is the blessing that allows this half to express
itself so openly. This only dawned on me a month or so ago, but
then, I'm 31 and still exploring this relatively new feeling called
"Love." Some people never find that. I'm damned lucky and only wish
there was a better word, one with fewer meanings.

So I'm sitting there with Mum and she goes into this half-
intelligent, zealously self-loathing rant on how she feels whenever I
come up to visit. I'm truly touched by this, because I've known for
some time that she does love me and that all the distasteful words
she has ever uttered to me are simply her own coping mechanisms,
maybe even her inability to express her deepest feelings out of fear
for what they are. And then I looked her right in the eye and told
her all I just learned about myself by stating it as simply as I
could: "I know what you mean, because I'm like that, too. You want
to be in control." It isn't that we don't feel. It's not that we
don't respect others. We're just fearful that we're not good enough
to be human so we pretend we're not and sometimes we even get away
with it.

The funny thing about all this is that we are so afraid of losing
control that we often do exactly that. After all, our companions are
not robots, they're human, and thus very prone to doing what they're
going to do. We want to control a cornered rattlesnake. Ha! No
wonder Mum is constantly feeling poisoned. It's taking her twice as
long as it has me to figure these things out and learn to work around
that snake. She must have been bitten an awful lot all these years.
I can only hope that the problems I've got that she doesn't have are
just as obvious to me before I turn 60. And above all, I hope I've
told her correctly. After all, I may be beyond my years at times,
but I'm still human, aren't I?

~nv

Work VS Home VS Ice Cream VS Rats

I worked for ONE HOUR today. If you even call it work. I sat there
with the lights off trying to form coherent thoughts, then decided I
needed to go home so I called the currently in charge due and said,
"I want to go home." Eventually I managed to explain that I was
there but felt like crap and wanted to go home but had meetings all
damned day and didn't want to leave but was useless and really wanted
to go home. He said, "Well, if you're that sick, then go home!!" I
said, "But I have a meeting at 1 and can't miss that and--" and he
said, "GO HOME!!!" and I continued "and I'm supposed to go to these
other things and hey, maybe if I go home I can attend from home..."
and he just shook his head and proceeded to kick me out and send me
home to mommy only mommy is really the adult portion of myself that's
now taking care of my snivvelling little self who both wants to be at
work my last day before vacation and who also doesn't give a rat's
ass about work because she's sick and just wanted to stay home in the
first place.

He later emailed me, incidentally, and said that he hopes I rest up
because of my vacation and he wants me to get well for that. I wuv
dat guy. He and the other one-in-charge better not leave like
certain other folks have recently or I'm gonna kick some serious butt.

I dumped a spoonful of chocolate ice cream into the rats' cage and
one of them stuck her head under the spoon and got splatted right
over the top of her head. The ice cream was a bit melted and
dribbled down into one of her eyes. She looked so funny sitting
there licking ice cream off her whiskers while glop kept running down
her face! I said, "Uh, aren't you gonna shake that off or
something?" but she didn't, she was so absorbed. She simply kept
blinking through the mess like those cartoons where someone gets
doused in mud and opens their eyes and all you see is brown with two
white eyes. So comical that i forgot to watch and see if anyone
tried to pick up the whole gloppy mess and run off with it. Rats are
awesome.

Sinclair, meanwhile, discovered a little box that my Skin So Soft
came in and proceeded to disembowel it of its packing materials.

~nv

Dinner 101

Tonight I "butter-pan-fried" some milanesa steak, then set it aside
and crumbled a whole (16oz?) package of baby bellas into the pan
along with a good portion of chopped onions, added my stirfry veggies
(snap peas, carrots, and more mushrooms), and finally, some chopped
scallions and a bit of collard greens. I added some of the yellow
squash water (which I boiled yellow squash in) and let it boil out;
while it did that I chopped the steak into cubes and dumped it back
in the pan to mix it all up, then added real irish butter to the
squash on my plate and am digging right in. It's absolutely
beautiful [tasting].

I did manage to nab four crackers with port wine cheese and a glass
of merlot as I prepped the plate. :) Man, I love cooking such
delicacies... I don't do this particular thing often because Dale
doesn't like onions or mushrooms, and I like to cook for him, so this
was a real treat that I didn't even know I was missing. Maybe I
should reserve a day or two each month for "I'm cooking an elaborate
something that you don't like" day! But just my luck, then I won't
feel like cooking. This time, it almost felt like I was getting away
with something!! All on a me-whim, too... so much better than coming
directly home from work and doing just whatever. Instead, I went and
got groceries and whipped this up in less than an hour. Yay!

(And Dale, if you're reading this, I know you never ask me to cook
you dinner and you're not trying to control my meal creation. You
don't have to. I like to cook for us (when I'm in the mood to cook)
and quite honestly, I enjoy pretending that I'm getting away with
whatever it is so just sit back and enjoy this odd sense of humour
your crazy wife happens to retain. LOL)

~nv

Chutney Fried Pad Thai

5 tbsp Date and Tamarind chutney.  a few splashes of fish sauce.  Some olive oil.  Mix in fry pan on medium-high heat.  Add pre-soaked pad thai noodles.  Stir-fry 4-6 minutes.  For softer noodles, add some water and let it boil out (there's your minutes).  remove noodles/sauce from pan.  add more oil, drop in two eggs, scramble lightly.  Add eggs to top of noodles.  DELISH!

Strawberry allergies

I found out a friend of Dale's experiences the same thing I do when eating Strawberries.  His mouth gets sore.  So I once again went off in search of information.  I read a few articles, and was led to a substance called Bromelain.  It exists in Pineapple especially, and is a type of "protease" enzyme which breaks down protein.  Kiwi has one such substance as well, known as actinidin.  Figs have ficin.

Interestingly enough, Actinidin is also present in pineapples, mangoes and papayas.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bromelain#Other_plant_proteases

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Actinidin

I am falling asleep in the middle of this research and don't want to lose research, so here is so far such search of re.

Everything I learned...

... I learned at work. Okay, well, not everything. But I had to
clean up starware off someone's machine and finally decided to look
into HijackThis. Unnecessary for what I was doing as it turned out,
but what I realized is that I was completely, utterly stupid for
seeing that program all over the internet and never utilizing it
myself. What a nifty little critter!! I didn't realize it was a
standalone!!!!!

Anywho, the reason I ended up finally downloading it is because I was
researching starware and how to get rid of it. I had no trouble,
thankfully, but I was prepared for the worst prior to attack. And
HijackThis was mentioned.

Here's a neat link, one with a list of spyware/adware/etc resources
that I found to be pretty comprehensive. I've used many of these
tools and am glad to find more. Now that I've given up my side work
for the most part, of course I find this. LOL

http://www.pchell.com/support/spywaretools.shtml

~nv

Dell ROCKS!!

I had to call Dell earlier because I needed a restore CD.  I expected to pay for it and was pleasantly surprised:  The computer is out of warranty by three months, but they're sending me a free XP reinstall disc today.  It should be here tomorrow or monday.  In addition, the pleasant ENGLISH-SPEAKING-DUDE very quickly pointed me to the proper drivers location and even told me the proper order to ensure everything installed happily.

I am proud to wear my Dell cap.  Not sure where folks are having trouble with them, but I've only had good experiences in the past several months both at work and otherwise.  YAY!!

~nv

Cross pictures 2

From a bit farther back...

Cross pictures

Okay, so the pics did not come out very well. Here's one group at a
time...

The Cross Pendant

I'm seeking age and origin of the following.  If anyone has any ideas or information, I'd appreciate it.

The pendant is over 40 years old but exact age is unknown.

It looks like it was "carved" from a grayish metal.

There's a sort of filigree around the center object which is a cross or sword.

The edges have little "balls" - 6 on each side, one at bottom.  They appear to have been hammered and/or filed.

The whole piece seems to be from one piece of metal and is bent outward from the front a bit.  I.e., the front curves outward slightly so when you set it down on a flat surface, the right and left sides hover over the surface.

FRONT:

The "cross" looks like a sword; on the handle, the left and right globes have a design in them like a four-petal flower, north, south, east west (common amongst many cultures).

At the bottom of the cross/sword is an ovalish thing with what appears to be writing.  I cannot make it out, the closest I can come is "SKKz" but the z part is more like a christmas tree if you ask me.  For all I know it may not even be Roman letters.

BACK:

There is a stamp of "800" on the backside in clear tiny lettering.

Same design on sword's handle as on the front.

Bottom of sword has something, not sure what, could be more writing.  UTRD maybe?

Flatter than the front, but equally designed

CHAIN:

The chain may not be original to the pendant, although it appears to be made of similar metal.  Its links are soldered so you can barely tell that they're not all one piece.  There are two "normal" links in between larger, more complex ones.  The complex ones have an "x" piece hugging the middle of larger links; there's a slightly heavier circle hugging the middle of the x formation.

Pictures below.  Click for larger version.

First harvest

Okay, so I picked a spinach leaf the other day, but THIS is the first
REAL harvest. I just made me a salad with spinach, green onion, and
cilantro all from my very own dirt. Quite delish. Now I want
dessert... *thinking about the frozen blueberries in freezer* NOM
NOM NOM

Whups, silly me vs printer

Okay, so I just did a really big dumb.

I went to print an invoice from my iMac to my HP C3180 and it kept
telling me the job was stopped. I'm like, HUH?? Printer turned on,
plugged in, USB plugged into... oh yeah, second monitor. Second
monitor not turned on. Heh.

Without power, the monitor will absolutely refuse to send along USB
signals to any connected peripherals.

So, I pressed the power button on the monitor, and whammo, the
printer eats up a page and spits it out. Ptu.

~w

Garden Pests

Leaf hoppers mostly.  I've been picking them off individually each day for the past three days.  They've decided my potato plants are tasty.  The potato plants are still doing well despite the minor infestation, however, and I see little yellow eggs on the underside of some of the leaves which I /think/ are lady bug eggs.  I'm keeping an eye on them to see if I'm right.  If they are, that's a good thing for those plants.  If not, I may need to eradicate them depending on what they are.

The spinach is doing awesome things.  It's sparse in its insect plagues, a healthy green colour, and getting bushier and fuller every day.

The tomato plants are riddled with holes, hardly growing if at all, and overall I just don't see them making it.  Carrots finally look like they have true "tops" albeit teensy ones.  Peppers finally sprouted but are not looking healthy enough for me to be excited.  And the green onions are kinda washed out looking.  They don't look happy, but are still growing.  I wonder if their section had too much lime?  Possible, as that's the corner the big pile was in.  Maybe a little manure this fall will help the soil for next year's crops.

Inside, I've got a couple surviving sprigs of coriander that are very nice, growing tall and strong.  I planted one of my last tomato seedlings in with them along with the sweet marjoram seedlings.  Then I put the basil and the remaining green onion seedling in with the inside green onions, which are thickening some and looking like they need a trim.  A third box is going to get started for the remainder of the tomato seedlings.  I can't imagine that they'll survive and produce inside, but even if they just grow bigger, they'll look nicer than the poor little things outside.

The Orange Mint is still in its pot.  I need to get it transplanted but worry I'll kill it.  LOL

Oh!  And I saw a mottled tortoise beetle on a potato plant the other day but didn't manage to get a good photo of it over the two days it was there.  I went out later to work on that, but it had disappeared.  The one photo I do have is just clear enough for me to have found out what it was online.  Oh, well.  I want to know when I can start eating the spinach!!

~w

Snake!!

A garter snake, to be exact, so called because it resembles the
garters that women once wore to hold up stockings.

I saw it yesterday, in fact, when I went to water the flowers on the
front steps. It moved quickly, sniffing the air intently with its
tongue. I marveled for a moment and then heard Dale at the side of
the house. I called to him to come see, and the snake stayed put
nicely. Wanting a picture, I went inside to grab the camera. When I
took aim, however, the little fella slithered away under the porch.

There'd been something bothering me about his eyes, though. I knew
it was a garter but began thinking maybe I was wrong; the eyes shone
bluish in the light which threw me. So a short while ago I began
looking online for garters to see if my memory could pick out the
snake again. It had seemed to me that the stripes were duller than
the pictures I saw online. And, the eyes were so bright compared to
what I'd seen. Then I saw a picture of an eastern ribbon snake and
thought, maybe it was one of those? But I couldn't find pictures of
the bluish eyes.

That's when I realized: The snake must have been molting. Their
eyes look like they've got cataracts when they're about to lose their
skin. I confirmed this online and then thought, "Gee, but /was/ it a
garter? Eastern ribbons are rare in this area, but they have been
sighted! Man, I wish I had a picture of that little guy!!" I
compared photo after photo of them online, and was fairly certain it
was a garter, but ... if it WAS a Ribbon, I certainly wanted to
report it. Did it have the white spot in front of its eye? Or did
it have the blackish lines on its mouth? My memory was too foggy
with the photos dancing across my retinas. There was no way I'd ever
know without seeing him again.

Burning curiosity and scientific excitement got the best of me. I
figured that if he'd been under our porch once, it was feasible he
could be living under there - assuming he hadn't stopped in our
flowerbed for a little basking action or somesuch and had slithered
off when he felt the prying eyes in my head had left. So, I ventured
out onto the porch and glanced down at the spot I'd last seen him -
and almost shit my pants. There he was!! His tongue wasn't out, so
I tiptoed back inside and snatched the camera. His eyes had cleared
since yesterday and he seemed a bit brighter than I remembered. He
must have molted already, and was now basking in the sun as I'd
thought, the shelter of the dark porch his security against intruders
- such as photographers. Well, he stayed put this time, and never
seemed the wiser. I think they sleep with their eyes open, so maybe
I was quiet enough not to wake him. At any rate, I got him!!

And as I was just writing this, I saw the mail person come up the
steps and deliver our mail. I ran out after she was gone and he's /
still/ there, in the same position. Feeling pretty comfy over there,
apparently. Then again, I was all over that porch yesterday and
never would have seen him had he not objected to being sprayed with a
bit o' water from the can. (Sorry, Mr. Snake.) (Assuming it's a Mr.)

~w