Amazing Grace and Tomato Soup

Our rather multitalented boss moved on to new endeavours today. I
knew this was coming for the past two weeks, but last night I sat
here after a gruellingly long day at work and cried as I wrote him a
letter. Knowing how unbeloved my long emails are to my coworkers, I
wanted to keep it short. After rewriting it a few times, though, I
decided to grant myself the rare luxury of the whole page. It was,
after all, to be a parting farewell to an awesome person who will be
sorely missed in our department. In addition to being fair-minded,
proactive, and a visionary, he's got an entertaining sense of humour,
deep brown eyes, and a wonderful singing voice. I still remember
when I was going through a bit of a spiritual revamp a few years
back, and without telling him why, suggested that he sing Amazing
Grace. He was behind a server, but the next thing I knew, I was
frozen in place with tears rolling down my face, as if God Himself
was speaking to me through that voice, which resonated around the
server to flow around me in a gorgeous embrace of acoustic
perfection. Yes, in a fan-infested server room, God touched me
through song.

I don't think he ever saw me, and I never told him about the
experience brought on by his willingness to sing that song. But I
will never forget it as long as I live, because that moment
reaffirmed my faith. There are precious few moments in my life where
I hear God's tune resonating within me like that.

Memory aside, I finally penned the letter to my satisfaction and
folded it carefully into a plain envelope, on which I enscribed his
name. Yesterday morning at 6am, I went in to work and placed this
letter on his fast-emptying desk. Then I sat down to work. He came
in later and saw it, began to read, and turned to ask me if it were
mushy and whether he might get all teary-eyed reading it. I told him
he ought to read it later, and so he said he would and tucked it
away. Later we had a going away party for him. I ate at the front
of the room away from the crowd, avoiding him for fear of clinging to
him and blubbering all over his shirt. (I am known to be this way
when someone leaves, and this one is a particularly difficult event
for me. I wasn't taking chances this time, especially since it's my
boss.)

So, the party dissipated and I pretended nothing amiss was about to
occur. I went back to work and proceeded to discover a laptop with
spyware on it toward the end of my day. Had to reimage it pronto, so
I gathered it up and began the process. Since no image existed for
it, I had to reinstall XP from scratch. My state of mind was a bit
of a goner so I forgot to gather the drivers before doing this.
Sigh! So I spent about 7 hours on installs, updates, and drivers.
6pm came and went. 7. 8. 9. 10. Finally at 10:30pm, I gave up on
the last two drivers and made an image of my new creation. Then I
tweaked it for its user, deposited it gingerly on her desk, and
booted it from the docking station - just to make sure the wireless
keyboard and mouse would work. It did.

I ambled off about 11pm or so, quite moody but relieved to have that
mess out of my hair.

This morning I came in late - 10am - and saw that our boss was still
wandering around cleaning and organizing his work for whomever may
take his place. Good, I thought, I'll still have my chance to say
goodbye in person. At some point he took notice of me and leaned
over to indicate he'd read the letter. He said he planned to frame
it. I don't know if that's true or not but I was touched and glad he
appreciated my words, for I felt they were totally lacking in the
depth of feeling I had experienced over the past several years. I
felt a slight smile touch my face in acknowledgement and he went
away, leaving me to my work. Of course, for the past two weeks I've
been calling him a traitor, so I saw no reason to desist. Each time
I saw him pass by, I'd raise my voice at him: "Traitor!!" A
coworker talked me out of that word so I began saying "Defector!"
instead as the afternoon slowly drew to a close.

That was the last thing I said to him. I got called away for a
while, and when I returned, I found an order slip on my desk. I
wrote a code on it and turned to get up, to place it on his desk as
the last thing he might sign for me. Suddenly a hollow chasm filled
my heart as I noticed that his desk was just too empty. "He...
didn't leave already, did he?" I croaked. My coworkers told me that
yes, he had.

I know - consciously - that this is OK. I know that he'll be happy
moving on, learning new things, overcoming new challenges. It's not
like he's upped and died or anything, and it's not like he and I were
best buds, either. I mean, it's totally illogical to feel such a
deep-seated attachment to him, right? Yet I felt my shoulders slump
as if they'd hit the floor. I melted into my chair, dumbfounded,
fighting the tears that started rolling down my cheeks anyway.
Finally I had to leave, so I found a restroom and just stayed there
for a good portion of an hour, unable to make myself presentable.
Despite my disappointment towards not getting to say goodbye, I
believe that God knows best, and that my being called away before
such a thing could occur was a blessing. Perhaps the blubbering
would have hit me harder if I'd hugged him in an appreciative
goodbye, shook his hand in sad congratulations and watched him
leave. I think he's gotten the jist of all this without the drama,
you know? Thank goodness for pen and paper!

Well, the blubbering hit me hard, and I've had a headache ever
since. This happens. The headache got worse throughout this evening
and peaked about an hour ago. You know - nausea coming in to keep it
company. I popped an Advil and...

got a terrible hankering for tomato soup.

So, I did a brief perusal of tomato soup recipes and decided to do this:

1 boullion cube
2 cups boiling water
1 can (6oz) tomato paste
1 tsp Oregano
1 tsp Basil
1 cup of milk
1 cup cooked rice
French's fried onions

Dissolve the boullion cube in the boiling water. Add the tomato
paste and blend with spoon until it's all dissolved-like. Add
oregano and basil and stir in. Stir in the milk. Stir in the rice.
Get some of that into a bowl and add some of the fried onions for
added texture and taste.

It came out far better than I'd expected.

So, I'm sitting here writing this, eating tomato and rice soup,
sipping on meade, and listening to one of my favourite songs:
Amazing Grace. As soon as this entry has been posted, I shall retire
to bed and await a whole new day.

~nv

smoothie

Made a smoothie, too. I almost forgot about that. I shouldn't do
that, though, because I'll inevitably put fruit in there and for some
reason blended fruit hits me faster than normal fruit. I don't get
this fruit thing. All I did was put a small can of "fruit cocktail"
in with a small amount of grape juice. The rest was carrot, celery,
yogurt and ... well, that was it. Now I've got one heck of a
headache and I'm super tired and my throat feels funny, like I'm
catching cold again, but not bad like a cold so I know it's the fruit.

Why am I plagued with a fruit intolerance?? I LIKE fruit... ::growl::

Anywho, the smoothie was very tasty. Next time I'll just add less
fruit... and in all honesty, I'm not that crazy about yogurt in my
smoothies. It's too acidic. Maybe I should get a juicer and just
make carrot juice. Carrot juice is good and doesn't give me
headaches...

~nv

soup's on!

Just made some tasty soup. I came up with this:
one good-sized potato, peeled and cubed into bite-sized pieces
a handful of baby carrots, chopped up
three stalks of celery, sliced into bite-sized pieces
One orange pepper, chopped
One small onion, chopped
Green beans, frozen
Chicken bouillon cube, dissolved in about 1/4 cup water
Olive Oil
Oregano, pepper, other seasonings to taste

The potato, celery and most of the carrots go into a pot of boiling
water. The water should just cover the veggies. While that boils,
chop up and sautee the onion, orange pepper, and some of the carrots
in olive oil. At the spices as desired. Do this over medium-high
heat. When the onions look translucent, dump in some green beans and
stir-fry until the beans are warmed up. Stir in the bouillion/water
mixture (if there are heavy particles at the bottom of the dish, add
more water and dump the rest in the pot of water). Stir-fry 30
seconds longer. Add the pot of boiling veggies and water. Yes, all
of it, provided only enough was used to cover the veggies in the
first place. This serves as the water base for the bouillion AND
captures any nutrients that leeched out of the veggies. Boil about
two minutes and then reduce heat to low or remove completely (I set
it on low because I wasn't ready to eat yet).

And whammo, food!

~nv

v-day poem

For Dale on our first "married" v-day.

tea effects

I forget how I got into this, but... I had no idea tea had FLUORIDE in it.  Like, far more than water.  See this article from wiki:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Potential_effects_of_tea_on_health#Effects_of_fluoride

There are also things called "oxalates" in tea that are thought to perhaps absorb calcium from the body.  You'd have to drink a LOT of tea to really get enough oxalates to cause damage, but it made me wonder if perhaps this is why oriental folks are often regarded as shorter than their western counterparts?  No idea.  Then again, the English are known for tea-drinking, and they're not short...

Anywho, interesting reading.  Whilst in my internet travels, I also stumbled across these items here:

http://www.enjoyingtea.com/stone-teapots.html  which then led me to this...

http://www.jcstone.cn/chinateapot.asp  wand I really liked #23, but can't figure out how much they are or how to buy them, so then I scoured the net some more and couldn't find anything else made out of this most interesting form of jade (if it's so rare, why's it so cheap at enjoyingtea.com??)... then I found this and thought, "HOW CUTE!!!!!!!  But... copper??"

http://www.hinkyimport.com/chcosqte.html 

Gotta love the 'net... in the end I decided to refrain from pursuing this further, as I've already got two nice teapots, given to me as gifts, and a special infuser that Dale gave me a couple years ago.  All three items are perfectly functional for making tea, and ornamental in their own way.  I also have a nice set of four cups which may not be specifically intended for tea, but they're awesome cups and can hold a cuppa just as well as those itty bitties the Chinese use.  

If that #23 was to be easily purchased, however...  Well, see, I've never in my life seen something so gorgeous, functional, interesting, and simple all in the same package (other than a Mac, but that's a computer).  I think that my next endeavour shall be to visit the local Marble Exhibit and see if I can find anything there, in Verde Antique of course... doubt they'd have such a thing, but you never know.  Can't find anything online, for sure.  Hmph.

Well, I'm updating Address Book entries now... Just figured out that you can add photos.  Weird!!  But okay...

~nv

REorganization

It never ceases to amaze me how much CRAP one can accumulate over a
period of time.. I have been cleaning out some drawers in my den and
am aghast at the amount of unwanted items in each drawer. I am a
freakin' pack rat, I swear. I have things I used to play with as a
child. I still have the old card stock from a store I worked at...
basically, the outline of all the price tags I used to tear out and
slide into plastic containers. It's really trash, but I saved it
because I wanted to make "flash cards" for my Cherokee book. Never
did. Today it finally made it to the trash, after several glances
over the years and the thought, "But I could still use
that!!" (Yeah, right.)

So, I've been working in short spurts, in small areas, a little at a
time, to clean this mess up. I think that if I were left in here by
myself for the next three weeks I could cut my den's contents by a
fourth. Dangit. It just dawned on me that I forgot to get food when
I was downstairs, and I'm still hungry. Anywho. I've found that
drawers are definitely the way to go. Because of how they slide in
and out of their containers, you have to be wary of piling too much
stuff into them or it gets caught. Also, depending on their depth,
they can either be difficult to dig to the bottom of or they can
offer at-a-glance contents. Tends to make you really think about
what you put where.

What I've been doing over time is emptying out small boxes into these
drawers, cutting back on the amount of things I've kept in storage or
the closet. Unfortunately, I did not abide by my friend's new rule,
which is to throw something out every time you buy something new.
So, I've since bought new things and now have just as much stuff.
But, better than double it. See, by keeping my drawers full of
stuff, I'm constantly getting annoyed by having to paw through things
after having them so neat for a while. So, I scour for things to
throw out or give away, thus keeping them neat. Sneaky, huh? My old
method consisted of piling unused stuff somewhere until it was so
high it annoyed me, then I'd shove it all in a box and store it. No
more. I have to live with my crap or get rid of it.

It will hopefully be even easier once we move into the house next
month. It may sound ironic, but I have the feeling that having MORE
space will help me MAKE space. See, this is my argument: If I'm
OVERcrowded by clutter, I get claustrophobic and overwhelmed. I
become accustomed to seeing things messy and simply overlook it after
a while out of sheer necessity. My den has been doable because I've
kept a spot clear enough to keep me thinking things are neat.
Because of seeing things "neat," however, I can't stand looking in
messy drawers. But, see, the messy drawers are small enough to
tackle so long as I do them one at a time, and each is pretty much
designated so I can reorganize things into their proper places as I go.

As a result, I've made contact with each item recently, thrown out a
few things I don't want/need, and now I know where to find that
doohickey from five years ago now that I actually need it. And if
for some reason I'm not sure of its location, I don't destroy my
whole den tossing stuff out of boxes looking for it. I simply wing
open all the drawers instead.

Armed with this knowledge, I'm forseeing this: The downstairs of the
house is kept immaculate (my definition) and organized. My playpen
upstairs is my personal storage room and workspace. I expect it will
be messy for a while but over time I'll get that cleaned up, too.
Why? Because currently I have to scour my stuff to find things to
toss. I want, badly, to drag some stuff out of the storage room and
go through it, but it's cold in there and there are a/c's in my way.
I'd have to really DIG to get to anything, which overwhelms me to
even think about. Having all my storage in that one room, which will
be big enough to work in and have my hobbies in, will enable me to
pull things out as needed, converting it all to drawers or trash as I
go.

I know, my logic is a bit odd, but I'm sure it will work.

On another note, I feel I'm letting go of a lot of my past,
converting it to mere memories. I found an easter Snoopy which Mom
had given me on Easter a ways back. I'm not particularly fond of the
stuffed animal, but I've kept it because it was one of the last
things she gave me for Easter. I already had my own place and she
came down and hid stuff everywhere as if I were still a kid. I
decided today that the memory of that day will stay put, the dog
doesn't need to. It's not like I take it out and stare at it
regularly, anyway.

I also just realized that I don't like Hickory Farms sausage
anymore. Never been fond of sausage and their sausage is exactly
that. I do still like the cheeses, though. From now on, I suppose I
should be looking for those gift boxes that only have the cheese and
crackers...

Well, back to snacking and packing...

~nv

buying house

Well, I think it's pretty much a sure thing now, unless something
weird happens. So, yeah, we're buying a house! It's a happy house,
a former Colonial duplex that's now a one-family. OMG so much
space. Twice what we've got here. I've been bordering on
claustrophobia since moving here. Good thing I got the larger of the
dens is all I used to tell myself. Now my office will be even bigger
and more open! Beautiful kitchen, all these extra rooms, too. And a
decent yard, too.

So I've been cleaning up my playpen, throwing stuff out and
reorganizing all my storage spots. Moving sucks, I remember it quite
well. This time we're doing it in the end of winter, too. I've been
mentally putting all the furniture and things into the new place,
trying to get a feel for how to organize the move itself. Ideally
each room is moved into its corresponding room right from the getgo,
you know? Ha. I know that'll never happen! But at least we're not
cramming two households into one this time. That was a nightmare.

Hm. I think I'm going to replant all the pothos and hang them in the
kitchen. Including the one that's been creeping toward the stairs to
kill us in our sleep. Kitchen in new place far from stairs.
Hehheh. Seems its growth was subdued since winter set in. One can
hope. That thing is nuts. I swear that four or five of its latest
leaves came in within a week or two of each other. A leaf a week!!
And the vine extendeths...

In other news, I just had a tuna sandwich with a side of capers. Yum.

~nv

Language vs humanity

This is a most interesting subject to me, because I love language, Native American lore, and culture in general.  The interview mentioned below talks about the Abenaki language and how there are 70 or so languages that could run into extinction if they are not acted upon and passed onto younger generations.  Whammo, all three loves in one shot.  Hence my forthcoming comments on this.

Aside from feeling residual horror for the trials that so many cultures have gone through over the history of mankind, what I find interesting is the irony inherent in this situation.  First, natives were cornered, persecuted, shoved into death, despair, illness, captivity, taunting, pretty much near annihilation.  Then the survivors were threatened and coerced into avoiding their native tongue and pretty much anything that wasn't "American."  Now, generations later, it's not only acceptable to be a Native American but it can be a prideful thing.  And, after so many children grew up without their native languages, they seek them.  The languages are like gold; historians and the curious alike scramble to save them from extinction.  What was once a shameful thing has become a valued art, a piece of culture that must be lost.

I try to put myself in our forefathers' shoes and fail.  Is it because I'm not in those times?  Are there pieces of history of which we are entirely unaware?  Or do I, like others these days, simply have more forethought, more thoughts of equality, than they did then?  If the latter, then why does the world still make the same mistakes it always has?  Why are we still at war with other countries?  What is the purpose of learning World History if not to try to do better?  Are we only studying our books so we can take lessons on how to ruin ourselves?

Anywho, the article:

VT Edition Interview: Jeanne Brink & Ellen Lutz on preserving the Abenaki language

http://www.vpr.net/news_detail/79141/

I hope Jeanne is successful on her quest.  I'm uncertain on my feelings on whether language is such an integral part of one's culture, but if even one language can be saved, I'm for it.

~nv

hole in my head

I felt like crap most of the day. Turns out I've come down with
something. It's throat-related, and thus miserable, but in all
honesty not grotesque. Just that I hate anything throat- or stomach-
related. In other words, I don't care for being sick.

Well, I have to hand it to my peers. No one said anything about my
being a grump. There were some PMS comments made about themselves,
of which I partook - we're all on the same schedule, it appears - but
nothing about me specifically. At least, not to my face. But then
one of my peers came over to me and started rambling about
something. I only heard approximately every fifth word.... when I'm
not up to par, the CAPD becomes quite obvious to me, which is
excruciatingly frustrating and only exacerbates the problem. Finally
I shut my eyes, put my hand up, and very firmly said, "I'm done with
speech today. Please email that to me and I'll fix it."

No fight, argument, or annoyance that I could see. She simply said,
"Oh. Okay." Walked off and emailed it. Thank God for small miracles.

~nv

KFC

Dale had told me yesterday morning that he'd get KFC for lunch for him and a friend at work.  I decided that was a good idea, so perhaps I'd get KFC on my way home from work that evening.  As the day progressed I wanted KFC SO bad.  Every passing hour made it worse.

So when I realized that I was working past 7, I told myself it would be my reward for pushing forth and doing good things.  I was nearly salivating as I left.  My drool was literally freezing as I made my way through the far parking lot.  The droolcicles fell in my lap as I started my truck, shivering, and waited for the windshield to clear, gently asking my truck to warm up extra quickly.  (He didn't.  Cursed mechanical objects.)

Finally pulled out of the lot, drove like a bat out of hell through the city streets... to bestow upon myself my delicious and filling reward.

There, BEHOLD!!  KFC!!!...'s... light... was out.

I hate working late.

So I called Dale and wailed and he made me mashed potatoes and a chicken patty.  If any of you guys out there ever want to impress your admiration upon a girl or make up with her or whatever, make her dinner at the end of a long day.  Doesn't have to be fancy.  At that point I would have eaten a pop tart and loved him for it.  Extra credit for the KFC concept.

I don't love Dale because of these things, but I have to say that these things do remind me of why I fell in love with him in the first place.

~nv

Calligraphy

I've taken up a new hobby. Sort of. Last weekend I stopped at
Michael's and purchased a set of Calligraphy things: Pens, nibs,
paper, ink, that sort of thing. Fun!

I say it's sort of a new hobby because mostly I've been using my
newfound interest to write poetry and letters. Both of these I do
already, so the hobby part comes in with how I'm doing them. Slight
modification really. I think Calligraphy is good for me because it
makes me aware of my writing techniques. Over the years my
handwriting has developed into its own thing, and it varies depending
on my mood and the words I'm using. For instance, "s" could be
written in cursive, as a printed letter, or as a printed letter drawn
from the bottom of another letter - i.e., itself being drawn from the
bottom to the top.

Calligraphy doesn't really do well from bottom to top. Now, I always
liked doing that. It made the "s" feel "free" to me - its top could
extend out to the right, curve, do whatever it wanted. But certain
things have kept me interested.

First, it's not as difficult as I'd thought to modify my handwriting
techniques to avoid catching the nib on the paper.
Second, the nibs are pressure-sensitive. This allows for the
characteristic "downstrokes" or whatever they're called - you know,
when the stroke is heavier and it tapers as the stroke angles or
curves. I love that look and I was surprised at how easy it can be
to achieve, even with smaller nibs.
Third, the scratchy sound. I don't like it when the paper catches,
but the gentle scratching of nib on paper is quite soothing and
leaves my mind blank. It's almost a bad thing because I want to feel
and hear it so much that I can't think of anything to write.
However, this is where I end up copying stuff, thus practicing my
newer techniques.
Fourth, there's that "elegant, old-fashioned" sense that I get when
I'm writing letters. My next endeavour is to find wax seals to
complete the effect. There's a part of my adult life where I still
feel like a child... pretending, on some level, that I'm in another
time. A time when letters took weeks or months to reach their
recipients. A time when quill and ink were the only option, and
paper was treasured rather than formed into junk mail which is then
shredded and thrown out. It lends an air of respect for the written
word, one that demands thought before movement.

Finally, it's giving me more cause to write.

Even in this technological age where typing is sometimes faster than
thought, there are still reasons why pen and ink has not died.

~nv

Driver Magician Lite

Awesome program. I just used it for the second time in a couple of
weeks. This time on my own computer, as I'm reinstalling XP. It
worked flawlessly just as before.

I LOVE DML.

~w

and heartache came

...to visit me, but I knew it wasn't ever after." (Jewel, "Hands")

I really, really, really like this song. I hear it now and again and
often hear new things in it, glean new insights that I understand to
begin with but suddenly feel without warning. This happened the
other day and again last night.

Last night I was driving home, past this house we've been considering
for the past week, and realized that the last house I'd been so
interested in was in such need of work that this one looks like a
castle with all its renovations. It dawned on me just how crushed I
was when that house had been sold before we even got to look at it,
and how hopeful I am about this current one. Then, amidst all these
thoughts, Jewel's voice is playing and I hear her words: "Poverty
stole your golden shoes, it didn't steal your laughter. And
heartache came to visit me but I knew it wasn't ever after."

This got me to thinking about how blessed I really am, in so many
different ways, on so many different levels. I started out so poor,
materially at least, and emotionally in many ways, and not only am I
materially blessed but I have my faith and I've become so much
stronger, in order to overcome problems and obstacles in life, both
personal and work-related. It's not a new concept to me but this
realization, when it hits, tends to come in the wake of emotional
lapses and it did just this; I'd not exactly been feeling happy as of
late. Not even content. It was frustrating because I know what I
have, and I know how I'm lucky, but I couldn't feel it no matter how
much I reminded myself. Then I'd have to resist spiraling downward
out of guilt for not feeling grateful, knowing that I'm human, after
all, and eventually I'd snap out of the funk.

Attitude is everything. Unfortunately, it's not quite as well-
controlled as the happy amongst us may seem to suggest to the world.
It's ironic that as powerful as knowledge may make us, it also makes
us so vulnerable. And it's even more ironic that we want so
desperately to teach others what took us so long to learn, only to
realize that others need to find it out for themselves. You cannot
teach experience. You also cannot make yourself feel what you don't,
no matter how much you know.

When you're happy and you know it, though... clap your hands!

~nv

OMG I'd forgotten...

...how much trouble it is to work on pcs.

I now remember how annoyingly frustrating - yet rewarding - pc work
was for me back when that's all I did at home. It can be almost
addictive, because you don't want to let it "win." You want to
overcome it all and get it working and it's a power struggle, really,
between you and the machine - and you win. Eventually.

But not today. I'm not that patient.

I bought a new SATA drive for Raven and intended to reinstall XP on
it. Then I intended to copy that partition to another hard drive for
safekeeping, so next time I just reinstall windows - and all basic
drivers, programs, etc - by doing a partition to partition copy.

So XP doesn't see SATA drivers natively. You have to plop in a
diskette with the drivers on it, then let Windows get that. I get
error messages. I try something new. Different messages. You know
what? I spent three hours figuring this out already, and I've got
other stuff I'd like to do on my day off. So I'm going to go find my
IDE drive and simply reformat the bugger. It's not like I have much
to save anyway, and it's partitioned, so I can just dump it to
another partition, reinstall, and whammo, all good. Besides, this
will give me a chance to use that new driver collector I found. :)

Egads.

Now, I plugged my SATA drive into my mac via my external hard drive
to usb adapter thingie, and it saw it just fine. I even partitioned
it so I didn't have to do it on the pc, and it even allowed me to
format the partitions with NTFS.

Macs rule. PC's drool. I still want to build another pc, though.
Mom is trying to save money for a new one and wants me to build it
for her. As much as I don't look forward to her complaints when
things go wrong (she lives too far away for me to be of real use to
her), I am looking forward to the actual build. I must be a
masochist or something.

~nv

sick

gah.

liver n onions

with cayenne pepper!! w00t!! Dale's not feeling all that great as
of late, got some bug or something. I don't know if it's sympathy
symptoms or my own way of warning myself that I've got the same bug,
but I'm not exactly at 100% capacity myself, and I've been treating
my body rather poorly as of late: Skipped meals, excessive junk
food, stress, not quite enough sleep, long hours at work, and a few
days ago, an orange and a piece of clementine. Probably overdid it
on the tea, too, which tends to dehydrate me a tad bit over time,
especially this time of year. I've also been doing way too many
dairy products and not nearly enough water.

So, I decided a blast of nutrition was in order to help minimize any
disruptive viruses that may be attempting to infiltrate and take over
my .exe's.

In comes Liver n Onions. I fry up about as many onion choppings as I
do liver choppings. Generally, it's a 1:1 ratio. Today, however, I
added in a dash of Cayenne, a splash of Chicken Rub, a sprinkle of
Seasoned Salt, and a generous helping of Ground Coriander.

TASTY!!!

Hopefully this dish, and others I'll be making later, will ward off
whatever Dale's got. Later I'll be having marinated bison and pasta
with garlic. And, I'm going to find a good spot to take a nap at
some point. I'm exhausted, even after 9.5 hours of sleep last night.

~nv

buttermilk

Dale had received an ice cream maker from his mom for Christmas.
Then our landlords gave us an herb garden, a pizza kit, and a mix for
pancakes. (We have the coolest landlords in the world, we really do.)

We had lots of fun making pizza and planting the herbs, and decided
we wanted to make vanilla ice cream. So, I stopped at a store and
bought rock salt, ice, and some half and half. (Next time we use
cream.) I also picked up a quart of heavy cream because I had a
sneaking suspicion that I'd like to make butter in the near future.

While I waited for Dale to figure out how to make the ice cream, I
snuck into the fridge and grabbed the cream so I could make butter.
I had discovered that beating it with a mixer is far more efficient -
and easier - than doing it with a blender. So, this time around, I
grabbed the biggest bowl I could find and dumped about 75% of the
quart o' cream into it. Then began mixing at high-speed.

Within ten minutes I had whipped cream. Within fifteen, I had VERY
THICK whipped cream. It had poufed out with air, so I placed a good
portion into a separate bowl so I could keep whipping without
plastering myself, Dale, and the new ice cream maker with white
fluffy stuff.

About 20 minutes had gone by, and suddenly I had chunks of yellow
things in my whipped cream. Yay!! I added salt, and shortly
thereafter I reduced the speed of the mixer to low, pushing the cream
into the beaters with a soft spatula and watching the buttermilk
begin to settle at the bottom. I poured it off, and continued,
pouring off more and more as I went.

Well, I ended up with roughly a stick or two of butter and smooshed
it into a plastic container for safekeeping. I also ended up with a
half-pint or so of buttermilk. Probably closer to a pint. I stuck
this into the fridge and forgot about it until this morning.

Buttermilk - especially homemade, chunky buttermilk - is very tasty
and I love eating it because of the chunks. They're basically little
mini pieces of butter submersed in slightly salty yellow milk. I'm
sure it's horrible for me, but I LOVE this stuff!! You get this
liquidy num nums and then - whup, what's this? Butter? In my
MILK?? YAYYY!!! Smoosh, smoosh, smoosh on the tongue, ahhhh...

Okay, off to drink/eat/smooth more!

~nv

TCP/IP anniversary

Today marks the 25th anniversary of ARPANET's global acceptance of the TCP/IP standard.  Without TCP/IP, there'd be no internet (at least not as we know it).

More info on TCP/IP here:

http://searchnetworking.techtarget.com/sDefinition/0,,sid7_gci214173,00.html

http://technet2.microsoft.com/windowsserver/en/library/d1e53415-9a93-4407-87d2-3967d62182dc1033.mspx?mfr=true

Vague synopsis of above articles, since some of you won't understand it anyway and I feel like writing:

* TCP/IP is a little program that is standard on every computer and server, whether Windows, Mac, Linux, Aix, Unix, etc.

* IP = Internet Protocol

* TCP = Transmission Control Protocol

I'll be using UPS (United Parcel Service) as a crude example of how this works.

You create an email and click "send."  SMTP (Simple Mail Transfer Protocol) runs over, grabs your email, stuffs it in a little box for you, addresses it based on who you sent it to, and then calls up the nearest UPS office to let them know it's coming their way.  (This might be known to UPS as "Billing Information Received.")  SMTP then runs away with it to deliver it to TCP, who works 24x7 at UPS, making sure all packages reach their destinations.

The package then reaches its local TCP office.  TCP then takes the package and explains to SMTP how the package will be sent on, acquiring all necessary addresses, payment and signatures in the process.  This information is explained to the next SMTP, also, through a series of telegrams, which explain how he may track the package online.  UPS might call this "Origin" meaning it's being prepped to be sent out into the world.

TCP then hands the package to IP (UPS:  "Departure") who slaps his own labels on the package to ensure it can cross the whole spanse of the Internet without getting lost.  (UPS:  "Arrival")

IP then checks to see the vehicles available for delivery, and translates the instructions to each driver so they understand where it will go.  The first driver then takes the package along a long route known as a "network interface."  This could be as simple as an ethernet cable!  UPS would call this "out for delivery."

Keep in mind that several of these exchanges may occur in the process of shipping one of the packages, known as "packets."

Once the package reaches its destination UPS office, a new SMTP comes running over, grabs the package excitedly, and delivers it to the addressed computer.  UPS would call this "Delivery."

The user of that computer then opens the email with a big ol' pocket knife and goes, "Egads, ANOTHER chain letter?!"

And this is why UPS packages have so many labels on them.

:)

Oh, and here are some interesting articles, too...

January 1st Events throughout the ages:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/January_1#Events

For more info on the internet and how it has "grown up" over the years, here are a couple of good resources:

http://www.walthowe.com/navnet/history.html

http://www.livinginternet.com/i/ii_summary.htm

Pix from 12/21

The Water Pik

First of all, I just wanted to thank my family for the nice gifts.
Second of all, I'd like to share the story of one gift with my blog
readers, and my very personal experience with one already.

My dentist told me a few years back that I might benefit from and
enjoy a water pik. I was never really told which one specifically:
"Doesn't matter, just make sure the water comes out the tube and
splash the water through your teeth. You'd probably like it, it's
like a gadget." Or something like that. So, I put it on my mental
list of things to remember to buy myself. Well, when this Christmas
season began to peek around the corner of our lives, I decided to
update my online "wish list" for everyone. So, I did. And as I was
doing this, I remembered that I'd still neglected to get myself a
Water Pik. So, good doobie that I am, I added it to my list and
refrained from ordering it then and there off the 'net.

Kevin and Michelle did me the honour of selecting this item from my
list so I may finally appease my dentist and play with a new toy.
Now, I don't know what others do when they receive such a gift, but I
was quite excited inside, stomping down my enthusiasm so that I would
refrain from trying it out in Mary's livingroom. Mind you, there are
reasons as to why I do my best to refrain from trying out liquid-
based gadgets in others' livingrooms, one of which is about to be
revealed in this story. I did, however, put it all together in five
seconds flat so that when I got it home it would be in my mouth that
much faster.

Anywho, Dale and I got home this morning, unpacked everything, goofed
around, made a mess of the living room, be-bopped around the house,
and then I took note of the item once again. My hand snatched it up
and away we went into the bathroom to get intimately acquainted.
Much to my surprise, the battery was already charged! So, I looked
in the mirror, carefully aimed the highest-pressure tip at my
gumline, and pressed the button. Which, might I add, stays on until
you hit the button below it to shut the pulsating, mess-making,
mirror-splattering, cheek-ripping, glasses-breaking, eyelash-
drooping, gum-molesting thing off. I realized - amidst my panicked
state! - that by the time I'd found this secondary button, the mirror
had been cleaned twice over, the window had been shot, the cat was
irrevocably afraid of me, and the tingling sensation had subsided
only because my mouth had slid off my jaw into the sinkful of drool
and discarded WaterPik water.

I spit the remainder of my throat into the sink and proceeded (with
slightly more caution) to try the BLUE tip, which was stated to be
"lower pressure."

The blue tip did indeed appear to provide less pressure, but then
Dale took a bold step in to see what all the shrieks were about.
After asking what happened to the mirror, he asked just enough
additional questions to make me realize that the battery was dying.
So, I gave up for the time being, plugged it in, picked up my face,
put it back on, and wandered off to find something else to kill
myself with so I wouldn't have to go to work.

I didn't succeed in that last endeavour.

SOoooo... I got home from work a short while ago, ate Scones and
drank tea (Mary - that scone pan is awesome), goofed around some
more, checked email, wandered into the bathroom, and... saw the fully-
charged Water Pik, gently lit up by our lovely new ladybug night-
light. A beacon of enticement! I immediately unplugged the Pik,
added more water, and shot new drainage holes in the sink with it,
being blown backwards into the shelves in the process.

At that point I guessed that I'd been wrong about which tip was
which, so I switched to the clear tip and shoved the thing into my
mouth, pressing the button as I did so.

Let me just say that the lovely red jacket Kevin and Michelle gave me
is now leaving sopping wet arm-prints all over my desk as I write
this, and my dentist may have lost a customer because I can no longer
feel my teeth.

Next year for Christmas I'm going to ask for WaterPik Usage Lessons.

~nv