The Next Dark Age
We're in it Now
At the Refuge: Vito
Vito is an African Grey at the rescue that came in with my foster bird, Sigmund. I hung out with him while I was working tonight, and wondered for the hundredth time why he hasn’t been adopted yet. He is about the most well-rounded Grey we have. He has the beginning of a vocabulary, is fully feathered, is a good eater and is not difficult to handle. Isn’t he pretty?
In fact, I considered fostering Vito, but decided that Sigmund was more in need of in-home care. It was the right decision. Sigmund becomes more adoptable every day. Vito has been adoptable all along. So. If you are nearish to Chicago, know and like Greys and are in the market for a bird, please visit the website:
Blanket Eight
Another crocheted edge fleece. If I had any ambition, I would have gotten some solid colored fleece, and cut those squares out to make little Sesame Street pockets on the blankets before doing the edge. But that would involve more measuring, which is my least favorite thing.
The yarn is Lion Brand’s “Pound of Love” in white.
I am a bit distressed that it had Elmo, but not Big Bird. But it turned out o.k.
George Washington and the General’s Dog
http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=widgetsamazon-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=0375810153&fc1=000000&IS2=1<1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifrI had lunch with my nephew, Alex, on Saturday. I brought him three books from the Library Used Book Store. One was a Scooby Doo children’s treasury
Ha.
So after lunch, we read the story together. While he was turning a page, I turned to my brother and demanded that he go online and find out if this story was true. When we were finished, and the dog was returned to General Howe, Alex asked if that was a true story. Scott replied, “It is according to Alexander Hamilton.” Punk.
Yes, Alex. That is a true story.
I am going to buy every children’s book about the presidents that I can find.
Weekend Assignment #363: Scammed!
Weekend Assignment #363: Scammed!
Have you ever been successfully scammed? Was it a phone fraud, a phishing email, a trojan worm, or something else? How did they fool you, and what have you learned from the experience?
Extra Credit: Tell us about a scam that didn’t succeed in tricking you.
Blanket Seven
This was my first attempt at a crocheted edge fleece blanket. The “licensed character” fabrics were on sale, and I used the leftover white from Vanna’s Lion Brand yarn:
The idea is that the fleece is lighter, thus good for the littler kids. Not to mention less expensive than all the yarn that I use. And quick to make.
A close up of the edging:
I did three rows of a basic stitch. The stitching wasn’t terribly difficult, but it was hardly perfect. Prepping the fabric is a pain. I really do dislike anything involving measuring. But I have a couple more pieces of fleece, so I will be making some more attempts.
The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights, by John Steinbeck
It seems the Steinbeck loved the legends of the Knights of the Round Table. Read them as a nine year old boy and attempted to rewrite the Mallory version so as to make it more palatable to the modern (read as: late 1950s) nine year old boy.
I have a hard time with Arthurian legend, both because of the portrayal of women and the fact that it all ends badly.
I spent most of the book rolling my eyes and thanking Marion Zimmer Bradley for writing the totally necessary The Mists of Avalon
Steinbeck didn’t clean up any of that.
Seriously. With the exception of Lyne, the Old Maid that trains the heck out of Ewaine, every woman is stupid, helpless, evil or some combination of the three. The archetypal virgins and whores are rampant.
Here is something interesting. Steinbeck put the project down and didn’t pick it back up. The last scene that he wrote was the first time that Lancelot kissed Guinevere. No tragic affair. No Holy Grail. No return of Mordred. It made me wonder if perhaps Steinbeck also had trouble with the it all ends badly.
Steinbeck’s language does, in fact, make these tales easier to read. I still have a hard time with Arthurian legend.
Blanket Six
I like these colors better in this picture than in real life. In real life, it looks like an Easter Egg. Bernat Satin yarn in Lavender, Banana and Sage. Bernat satin sort of feels like a baby yarn, and the colors aren’t that far off from the baby spectrum.
There is this funny thing with buying yarn: first that I only buy it when it is on sale and generally, when I have some kind of discount on top of the sale price. Thus limiting my options for colors and textures. Second, the colors never look the same when you get them home. This is a problem when one is trying to match things.
I am starting to understand how people end up with entire rooms full of yarn.
My Life in France, by Julia Child
This book was first recommended by a colleague, then when we all saw Julie and Julia, and determined that only half the film was worthy…
I have established that I am not a foodie. But I have always found Julia Child charming. And Julie and Julia portrayed her as having this fabulous sense of adventure, which her memoir really reinforces.
Julia Child was game. She tried everything and had no fear about screwing up as long as she was growing as a person. So she learned how to cook, because she loved the food in France. She learned languages. She learned cultures, and all through the harrowing life of an American diplomat’s wife in post-WWII Europe. Child would have told you that the real threat to America was McCarthyism. She loved French people, when most Americans found them rude. Later, she found she loved German people. Even though most Americans found them cold and France was her “spiritual home”.
Her husband was a rock star – really supportive and equally up for adventure. And when her cooking led to a book which led to a TV show, he spent his retirement helping her to shine.
I am jealous of this woman’s whole life. Most especially her chutzpah.
Under the Tuscan Sun, by Frances Mayes
I was tricked into buying this book. The ladies at the library all said it was fabulous. “I saw the movie…” I began.
“It is totally different,” they said. “You must read it, travelling as much as you do.”
Under the Tuscan Sun is listed as a “Travel/Memoir”.
I recently saw the movie Adaptation
I feel badly for my lack of enthusiasm because I know it is partly because Under the Tuscan Sun suffers by comparison to Julia Child’s My Life in France
But honestly. I found it rather dull.
Getting Doored
A week or so ago, my friend John* sent me a text from the Emergency Room. He was “doored”. Riding his bicycle home from work like a good eco-commuter-getting-some-exercise, a parked car quickly and unexpectedly opened its door right into his path. He went flying and by the time he landed, was bleeding from the neck.
I am happy to say that he is just fine and will not even acquire a chick-magnet scar. So because I am on the opposite side of most car vs. bicycle Who Has the Right of Way and Who is Being a Jerk stories, I was ready to forget this incident.
The Trib, however, brought it up. Getting “doored”, I mean. Apparently it is becoming more common:
“As spring approaches, the Active Transportation Alliance, which is involved in efforts to make streets safer for bicyclists, pedestrians and motorists in the Chicago region, is launching a campaign to increase public awareness about dooring crashes. The group considers doorings the most prevalent threat to on-street cyclists.
Informal surveys the alliance has conducted among its members indicate that more than half the people who bike on streets have been doored at least once, said Ethan Spotts, spokesman for the organization. But lacking solid statistics, bicycling advocates say they can neither prove a problem exists nor apply for federal and state traffic-safety funds to address it, he said.”
I live in the suburbs, and I was taught to always look before opening the car door. But seriously. When you are parallel parking? I don’t know how it isn’t an automatic thing.
Spring is here, folks. We are all going to have to learn to share the road. Drivers can make room and keep a lookout for those that aren’t insulated by 1,500 pounds of steel and driving up the cost of gasoline. You know, so as not to hit them. And cyclists can follow the rules of the road and not pretend to be pedestrians every other intersection when it happens to suit them. (OK, I had to get that out.)
Agreed?
*Whose play, Slouch, closes tomorrow night at Gorilla Tango Theatre in Chicago. (Ha! I did that twice!)
The Next Dark Age 