Brush With Fame

OK, my picture wasn't REALLY in the paper, but if you look closely, I am in this picture. See the open door to the left? See the red and black checked jacket with red scarf hanging on the hook? That is my jacket. See the puff of hair and tan shoulder next to the right side of the door frame? That is my hair and my shoulder. And that is my messy office too. So, technically, my photo was in the newspaper. See Star Tribune, north metro section, an article titled: Couples Share Devotion To Caring Vocation or click on the title of this entry.

A Birdy Year

2008 has been a bird-focused year for me. It started in January on my trip to Africa. We were traveling from east to west across a 20 mile field when our guide, Migwe, pointed out a great crested crane in the field. He said it was the national bird of Tanzania. Out the right window I saw this magnificent pair of cranes bobbing in the grass. The birds were walking with their crests fluttering in the wind. They were so tall and graceful. I thought they were marvelous. I was inspired. I wanted to be able to show other people the marvels of nature like Migwe showed me. I made a vow that this would be the year I would see a sandhill crane. I knew they were in my neck of the woods and if I tried, I would be able to see one. Other birds I saw on my trip to Africa included ostrich, cory bustard, secretary bird, reed cormorant, greater flamingo, Marabou stork, green backed heron, cattle egret, gray crowned crane, sacred ibis, Egyptian goose, white-faced duck, blacksmith plover, crested Francolin, helmeted guineafowl, white-backed vulture, tawny eagle, African fish eagle, lanner falcon, grey go-away bird, pied kingfisher, woodland kingfisher, carmine bee eater, yellow-billed hornbill, white-browed robinchat, superb starling, red-billed oxpecker, and white-headed buffalo weaver. Whew! In late January, I went on my annual pilgrimage to Monticello to observe the trumpeter swans engage in their mating rituals. After that I got my late birthday present of a male canary. I've really enjoyed my pet bird despite his loud and lively mating calls that leave my ears ringing sometimes. In late winter, I signed up for a master naturalist class. There I learned much about birds. I met several people who knew their birds and who carried bird identification guides with them when they went birding. On a field trip, I saw and heard sandhill cranes. Once I identified the sound of the sandhills, I realized I had seen them and heard them before at a park near my house. I saw them flying overhead and assumed it was a pair of herons. In June I toured the Sherburne Wildlife Refuge with a friend where we saw sandhill cranes again along with a trumpeter swan family (complete with cygnets) and a bald eagle nest. In July I had the pleasure of observing an indigo bunting pair frequently sit on our deck. Their flamboyant blue feathers contrasted with their natural chirp which sounded like the wheel turning on a lighter. In August I was accompanied by a blue jay as I traveled down a country road on the motorcycle. In the fall I joined project feeder watch and have spent many hours watching the birds out of the living room window. All in all, it's been a birdy year.

Project Bird Feeder Watch Update

Saturday: Black capped chickadee - 5, Slate colored junco - 5

Sunday: Black capped chickadee - 5, gold finch - 2, Slate colored junco - 3, Downy woodpecker - 1

I noticed the juncos like the snow. They do not hesitate to put their legs in the deep snow and push it around to look for a seed or two. I can only imagine how cold those skinny little legs must be. The juncos remind me of little Easter eggs that were put in a cup of gray dye but the top (belly) stuck out above the water line and stayed white. The juncos don't eat from the bird feeder like the chickadees. They prefer the left over canary food I set out on the deck railing or the grass and flower seeds from the garden. (Baby talk) Those little juncos are so cute!

Irony - Minnesota Style

Yesterday I was on my way to a birthday party. I was traveling south on Hwy. 47 through Anoka and I saw, headed north, a chevy pick up truck with a plow attachment on the front and a bass fishing boat and trailer attached to the rear.

Dice Tradition

Every year a group of us get together for a holiday party/pot luck supper/dice game. I am requested to bring wild rice hot dish. And we all bring five $1 gifts that are wrapped. After dinner, we sit in a circle with a pile of wrapped gifts in the center and roll the dice until we get two of the same number. If we do roll doubles, we get to select a wrapped gift from the center pile. We continue doing this until each person has five gifts. Once everyone has five gifts, we unwrap the gifts and throw the wrapping paper at each other. Then we go around the circle displaying and talking about our gifts. The greediness comes out in each of us as we plan to steal the gifts we want from each other. This year, after much discussion, we decided to set the time limit for 12 more minutes. Twelve was the right number this year because we all had high anxiety around minute nine last year and we thought 3 more minutes would help us out. So for 12 more minutes we rolled dice and if we got doubles, would be able to exchange a gift from anyone at the table, even if they said, "No." All of these gifts are worth one dollar but their value varied enormously. Some people covet chocolate. Others covet jangly earrings, and others covet licorice bits. As I shopped for my five one dollar gifts at the dollar store, I tried to imagine what gifts would be most sought after. I was wrong. I bought some glow sticks that I thought would be popular but other people bought those too. I bought a gray scarf with round silver studs. I thought that would go over well. It was gray and would go with any outfit and would keep a body warm. Nobody wanted it. In the light outside the dollar store, it was light blue and very unpopular. The scarf I thought would be so coveted was offered to be given away without an exchange. Ouch. The bath salts that I thought only an old lady with dry skin like me would want was more popular than I anticipated. I still got one though because I got doubles and stole them back twice. The dice game is very greedy and materialistic but fun all the same. I ended up with my bath salts, a glow stick, two stationary sets (which weren't stationary sets at all but journals with a matching pen), and a black velvet poster of a tiger and a monkey. Good times, good times.

Under The Banner Of Heaven

I just finished a non-fiction book called "Under the Banner Of Heaven" by Jon Krakauer. I've tried to read Krakauer before. He wrote a story about a trip up Mount Everest but I quit the book before I was halfway through. There was only so much cold and misery I could stand. This book I got through but it wasn't always pleasant reading. This book is about the Church of the Latter Day Saints (LDS), the fundamentalist branch of LDS, and the whole debate between faith and reason. In the epilogue, Krakauer admits to being agnostic. I had figured that out by reading his story. To illustrate this Mormon religion, he takes the story of a LDS fundamentalist murderer. I don't think that is really fair. You can't fairly illustrate Islam by using the 911 terrorists as an example. And you can't fairly illustrate Christianity by using fundamentalist Christians as an example either. LDS is not the only faith that has a violent extremist fringe. Krakauer spends a lot of pages talking about plural marriage. He goes into extreme detail about the complicated family trees that result when one man takes on 20 wives. He does have some good questions and one of those is why do we spend so much time and effort locating and saving Elizabeth Smart (the Mormon girl abducted by a LDS fundamentalist) when there are numerous young teen aged girls who are taken as wives every day in places like northern Arizona, Texas and Utah? Why not put the same effort into saving those girls like Elizabeth Smart was saved? Just this last April a polygamist ranch in Texas was raided. Many of those children were sent back to the compound run by Warren Jeffs. People said the state of Texas went too far. Why? After reading the book, I don't know the answers but I appreciate being prodded to asking them.

Utterly Creepy

I've listened to this song many, many times. This year I've decided there were some very dysfunctional family dynamics going on here:

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus

Underneath the mistletoe last night.

She didn't see me creep

Down the stairs to have a peep;

She thought that I was tucked up

in my bedroom fast asleep.

Then, I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus

Underneath his beard so snowy white;

Oh, what a laugh it would have been

If Daddy had only seen

Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night.

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus

Underneath the mistletoe last night.

She didn't see me creep

Down the stairs to have a peep;

She thought that I was tucked up

in my bedroom fast asleep.

Then, I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus

Underneath his beard so snowy white;

Oh, what a laugh it would have been

If Daddy had only seen

Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night.

I'm A Baking Fool

I'm not quite sure why I am baking all these sweet treats but I'm at it again. Two loaves of cranberry nut bread are in the oven right now.

Cranberry Nut Bread

Ingredients: 2 cups flour, 2 cup sugar, 1 tsp. salt, 1 1/2 tsp. baking powder, 1/2 tsp baking soda, 1 egg, 1/4 cup butter, 3/4 cup orange juice, 1 TB grated orange rind, 1 1/2 cup fresh cranberries (whole), 1/2 cup chopped walnuts.

In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, and baking soda. Using two knives, cut in butter until the batter has pea sized hunks of butter. In a separate bowl, beat together egg, orange juice and orange rind. Add at once to batter and mix until flour is worked in. Add cranberries and nuts. Put in a greased and floured bread pan. Bake for 65 minutes at 350.

A Christmas Memory

Long, long ago there was a little girl who was very assertive about what she wanted. "I want a kitty," she said. "A kitty would make me very happy." She didn't whine about it. She didn't plead or beg. She quietly stated her wishes intermittently. I am a dog person, not a cat person. I hoped she would forget about her wish. I would just about get to the point where I thought she had forgotten about it when she would bring her desire for a kitty to my attention again. Eventually, I had to admire her technique. Even though she was very young, she wasn't bratty or immature about it. She was very determined and very assertive. I wanted to reward that part of her personality. So against my better judgement, we helped Santa out one Christmas. A gray kitty was rescued from the pound and brought to a friend's house. The friend gave her a bath and a big red bow. About midnight I drove to my friend's house to pick up the kitty. Exhausted, I hauled the cat into the house about 1 a.m. I had a litter box, a food dish, and a water dish ready. I also had a gift box with holes in it so the little girl could open the box and find her kitty from Santa. But at 1 a.m., this Christmas kitty wasn't tired. It didn't want to stay in the box. This kitty wanted to look around. I couldn't have the kitty walking around the house meowing and exploring. I ended up semi-asleep on the couch all night with a kitty on my chest. Every time I felt the kitty leave, I would wake up, grab it and put it back on my chest. By 6 a.m. I was exhausted. Everyone else was asleep. I couldn't handle the kitty responsibility solo anymore. I am a dog person after all. So I put all the gifts under the tree and I put the kitty in the box. I went to the bedroom door and yelled, "Santa was here!" Everybody came out to the living room bleary eyed and yawning. As long as I live, I will never forget the look on that little girl's face when she opened the box and kitty poked up her head. Having the good fortune to see that look was worth staying up all night. Now the kitty had someone who loved her and would take care of her kitty needs. And the little girl had a kitty who loved her and would take care of her little girl needs. For the rest of December the kitty thought I liked it. After all, it was I who stayed up all night to ease her transition into our home. But after a week or so, the kitty learned where the real love would come and that I was only the the delivery person.

Two Books

I read 2 quick and easy books this week. The first book was "Body Surfing" by Anita Shreve. I have read several of the Shreve books and I liked this one too. Shreve writes in a manner similar to the progress of a rowboat. Her paragraphs are apart and distinct from each other. There seems to be extra space between each paragraphs. The writing in each paragraph thrusts the story forward like a rower propels a boat. Then the reader glides along in their own head for a short time before another paragraph comes pushing along. I find myself being very relaxed when I read her writing. This story is about a woman who is tutoring for the summer and how her presence innocently upsets and turns around the lives of everyone in the family. It's a good book. I always like stories about people and relationships. After all, aren't our relationships the most important thing in our lives?











My next story was a classic by a most manly writer, Ernest Hemingway. He writes about relationships too but these people are carrying guns and shooting wild animals in Africa about a hundred years ago. His stories contain dialogue but what is said is less important than what is not said. His descriptions of the savanna, the trees, and the riverbanks brought me right back on my trip to the Masai Mara park - across the Mara river from the Serengeti. Where I stayed in a van or a fenced lodge, never once stepping into the nature preserves, Hemingway stayed in tents and jeeps and walked in the wilderness. I can't imagine the danger and the excitement. Sometimes, when walking around my neighborhood, I get a little freaked out coming upon a group of white-tailed deer. If Bambi can scare me, I can't imagine walking in the African savanna. Hemingway of course, carried a manly gun but even that wouldn't be enough for me. He describes shooting a African buffalo and the bullets striking the horns and glancing off leaving little chips of horn to fly in the air. According to Hemingway, when you shoot a buffalo, you should aim up the nose because the horns protect the brain pan better than a helmet protects the armed forces. I do not enjoy shooting wildlife but I did enjoy this collection of short stories.

I Guess The Birds Don't Want To Be Counted

I don't count birds on Monday for Project Feeder Watch but I was watching because I had the day off work and was busy in the kitchen all morning. Those birds went through more food between 9 and 11 a.m. this morning than they did the previous 24 hours. I saw 5 chickadees, 3 juncos, a female cardinal and 6 goldfinches. Besides appearance, I can tell the birds apart by their behavior. The chickadees are so polite and proper. Black-capped chickadees fly in to the bird feeder, take their sunflower seed, and immediately fly off leaving space for the next bird to come and eat. The goldfinches sit on the bird feeder and chomp, chomp, chomp for minutes on end. Goldfinches don't care who is waiting. They leave when they're good and ready.

Project Feeder Watch Update

Saturday: 3 slate colored juncos, 3 black capped chickadees

Sunday: 3 black capped chickadees

Call Me A Pagan

Call me a pagan if you want but I celebrate the winter solstice. I am not alone in celebrating as shown on this BBC picture to the right. We are literally at the bottom of the celestial barrel and the days will only get longer from this point on. Minute by minute, the sun will stay up longer. Last night offspring #2 and I were shoveling the driveway and I thought about having Monday off work. I'm at the point where I have to take the days off before the end of the year or loose the time. As we shoveled, the snow quit snowing and we could feel the temperature plummet. While engaged in the mindless removal of frozen precipitation, I had time to think. Why, oh why, didn't I take more time off in the summer when I could ride my motorcycle and enjoy the longer days?

She Feels Closer Now

Maybe this sounds crazy or maybe you totally understand. My Christmas cactus is blooming downstairs. When my cactus blooms, I feel my Grandmother's presence. She feels closer. She is there in the room with the cactus like a guardian angel, listening, approving, and soothing. She and my Grandfather helped me plant that cactus from a cutting. I was living in St. Cloud at the time. I came over to their house with my pot and potting soil. The three of us sat at the table and planted the cactus. All six hands were involved. She said she had that plant over fifty years. Occasionally she would ask about the cactus. The original cactus is the one that is blooming today. It's grown and had to be repotted many times. Parts of it have broken off from kids playing and those parts were rooted and given only to my closest friends and family. The original plant has two open blossoms and many buds coming. I can feel Grandma's presence today. She feels closer now.

This Song Has Been Running Through My Head For 2 Days Now

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas

Only a hippopotamus will do

Don't want a doll, no dinky Tinker Toy

I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas

I don't think Santa Claus will mind, do you?

He won't have to use our dirty chimney flue

Just bring him through the front door,that's the easy thing to do

I can see me now on Christmas morning,creeping down the stairs

Oh what joy and what surprise

when I open up my eyes

to see a hippo hero standing there

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas

Only a hippopotamus will do

No crocodiles, no rhinoceroses

I only like hippopotamuses

And hippopotamuses like me too

Mom says the hippo would eat me up, but then

Teacher says a hippo is a vegeterian

There's lots of room for him in our two-car garage

I'd feed him there and wash him there and give him his massage

I can see me now on Christmas morning,creeping down the stairs

Oh what joy and what surprise

when I open up my eyes

to see a hippo hero standing there

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas

Only a hippopotamus will do

No crocodiles or rhinoceroseses

I only like hippopotamuseses

And hippopotamuses like me too!

Draining

A friend of mine went to a meeting today about a long standing problem we have had with the floor drains in 3 crucial areas (bathrooms). For y-e-a-r-s we have talked about this problem. Every time we have an overflow, the water seeps, ebbs, flows and spreads away from the drain. The grout around the drain was improperly installed and forms a plateau higher than the surrounding tile. In times of flood the drain is the driest spot on the floor, a virtual island in a lake. When we use the mop to push the water toward the drain, the water rushes back at us. We've talked about this. We've complained about this. Our complaints have been forwarded up the ladder. We've written complaints about this. We've documented drain discussions in meeting minutes multiple times. We've forwarded copies of these minutes up the ladder. Besides talk, nothing has been done to fix these drains that don't, won't, can't drain. Somebody rattled some cages and now there is hope that change is in the future. My friend attended a meeting today with his supervisor, building staff, property management supervisor and the architect of the building. Five men sat and talked about drains. The architect stated the drains were level with the floor. True, but the grout around them is higher protecting the drain from any liquid coming toward it. The architect suggested that we requested the drains be installed in this manner because we thought it would be safer. How would anyone think hazardous waste flowing away from a floor drain would be safer? By this time the meeting moved into a bathroom so they could see one of the drains in question. The architect stated that even if the floor drain were lower, the floor would still be wet when things overflowed. !!! My friend pulled out his bottle of water and poured it around the floor drain. The water rushed away from the drain and toward the feet of the people at the meeting. One meeting participant say, "Look at that - it IS like an island in a lake." Always prepared as he was taught in Boy Scouts, he anticipated the minimizing and BS. He shocked and awed them with his show and tell technique. At this point of his telling of the story, I burst out laughing. I cannot believe he did that. Years of talking about non-draining drains drained him of restraint. He then led to another bathroom with a functioning drain and poured water on that while they watched the water go down the drain. At this point, the architect, wearing wet shoes, asked why we waited 17 years to complain about this problem. The end of the story is yet to come. Will the drains eventually live up to their name and drain?

Why It's Easier to Keep Small Kids In Line This Time Of Year

Overheard at lunch today:
"I just told my kids I had Santa on speed dial on the kitchen phone."

Biscotte

I got this recipe from a friend from work whose mother is 100% Italian. Turned out really good. I baked the biscotte on Sunday and when I came home from work on Monday, I could still smell the wonderful aroma of walnuts, anise, and Christmas.

Biscotte

Beat 1/2 cup oil with 1 cup sugar. Add 1 tsp anise flavoring. Add 4 eggs. Beat well. Add 3 cups of flour. When mixed add 1 cup of chopped nuts. Place in 2 8x8 greased pans. Bake at 350 for 35 minutes. For crisper biscotte, slice after baking, place on cookie sheet and re-bake until desired crispiness.

Trying New Things

I am not a tea drinker or a coffee drinker, never have been. On really, really cold days (like today) I will accept a cup of coffee to hold and warm my hands but not to drink. I've just never liked the taste. A couple weeks ago I had to wait for 3 hours at my Honda dealership while my car was being serviced with the 110,000 mile check up. During the 3 hour wait, I got bored. At the dealership they offer coffee and pretzels and cookies and tea. I made myself a cup of cranberry herbal tea, just to break up the wait. I took a sip. The tea didn't exactly taste good but it was a step up from a cup of hot water. I drank the whole thing - my first cup of tea ever. Always searching for warm and calorie free drinks, I bought some ginger herb tea at the grocery store. Again, it a step up from hot water. I made myself two cups of ginger tea and drank them both so that makes 3 cups of tea in my lifetime. Now I belong to the tea drinker's club. I can't believe it's my hand holding the string to the tea bag. I'm inexperienced. I've yet to develop fine tea drinking habits. The directions say to steep for 3 to 5 minutes. Steep? What is steep? Do I just let the bag float in there for the time? I see other people jiggle their tea bags. So I jigged my tea bag too. Are you supposed to jig it in quick up and down movements as if jigging for bluegills? Or should I jig it slowly around the perimeter as if I'm trolling for walleyes? The tea bag on a string is fun to play with. I'm sure the tea bag manufacturers put it on there for a reason. What would happen if you didn't pull the tea bag out and just let it sit in your cup while you drank the tea? Oh, I guess the tea bag floats creating a choking hazard. It's probably safer to pull the tea bag out of the cup before drinking. If you see me drinking tea awkwardly, don't laugh, I'm a newbie. Between the ginger and the tea and my cuddle duds (long johns), I made it through this cold day.

Project Feeder Watch Update

Saturday: 1 crow

Sunday: 5 Black capped chickadees, 3 slate colored juncos

(I've noticed every time I empty a new bag of black sunflower seeds, the birds are wary and stay away for a week or two. They must be used to this bag now).

Made Time For Music

I had so much to get done today but I took time instead to play some Christmas music on the piano. I have a piano in my basement. I don't play it often and I'm not that good at it, but I do enjoy playing. My Christmas song book, like all my piano music, is very basic. My music is so basic it includes the letter number inside the notes. My music training includes one quarter of piano at the University of Minnesota in 1973 (my final piece was My Country Tis of Thee) and one class in community education called "Basic Piano For Hopelessly Busy People." I've taken it from there and I can play well enough to have some fun. Besides enjoyment, I think the piano playing is fashioning new connections in my brain that will ward off Alzheimer's for just a little longer. I can switch from the C chord to the F and G chords without looking down. The D and B sharp chords require at least a glance.

A Day With My Mates

A day with my mates means a day with my friends ending up at the British Advertising Award show at the Walker. The top prize went to a commercial for Cadbury chocolate featuring a gorilla playing drums. These commercials are always entertaining although sometimes the content seems unrelated to the product being sold. Volkswagon Golf had several good commercials. We saw several public service announcements that were good. The most disturbing public service announcement featured a slow motion shot of a bullet piercing many consecutive objects including an apple, a watermelon, a bottle of ketchup, and a bottle of water. The last object to appear was a boy's head and the bullet moved toward his head and I had to cover my eyes. The bullet stopped in mid air and the screen showed the name of a gun safety website. Prior to the show at the Walker we had dinner at KinDhu - a Vietnamese restaurant that has the best kung pau mock duck. Prior to that we saw a play and had lunch at the Seasons Restaurant. The play was "Casting Christmas," and was set, believe it or not, at the Parkers Prairie High School Auditorium. The play was funny at times and corny at other times but the food was good and the company was excellent. I had a great day with my mates.

Big Full Moon Tonight

Tonight the moon will be closer to earth than any other full moon of the year. The moon will appear to be extra large but it's only an illusion. The moon should rise about 8 p.m. Try to get a peek at it.

Dean Kaimen

Last August I drove out to Connecticut to visit Offspring #2. We signed on to a sailing voyage and went out for a three hour cruise. Unlike Gilligan and the Skipper too, we came back. As we sailed we went near an island. Our pilot told us the owner of the island was Dean Kamen, inventor of the Segway. This week I read more about Dean Kamen. He's been working on another project. He's been designing prosthetic limbs for Iraq war veterans. He heard from a Department of Defense official that 1600 veterans have lost an arm. Two dozen veterans lost both arms in Iraq. Dean has been working on something called a "Luke Arm." I'm not a Star Wars fan so I didn't know Luke Skywalker had a prosthetic arm. Kaimen would like to devise an arm that comes as close to a real arm as possible. Prosthetic arms are more complicated than legs. The hope is that the prosthetic arm will be able to be controlled from a body part that suits each consumer whether that be from a foot pad or elsewhere. The prosthesis would be attached to nerves so that the person wearing it would think about picking up a glass of water and the arms would comply. They're hoping to advance the artificial limb to the point where it can feel temperatures and grip strength. I have had the opportunity to know a couple of people in my life who have lost an arm and I know how much harder life was for them. I think it's awesome that Dean Kaimen is working to improve the lives of the service men and women who sacrificed for our country.

Winter Benefit

I always think of winter as cold and bleak but to tell the truth, winter displays the beauty of trees just like spring, summer and autumn. In winter I can see the shapes of trees. I can see the elegant pattern of the branches and twigs. Some trees are columnar or pyramidal or as round as a lollipop. Elm branches droop down so gracefully. Oak trees bend their branches to flex the bark and show their gnarly strength. Last night I left work about 4:30, almost the same time the sun was leaving the sky for the night. There is a pair of big old cottonwood trees near our parking lot. I'm not a good judge of height but I'm guessing they are about 80 feet tall. The twin cottonwoods are next to the highway sound barrier wall and aren't they about 20 feet high? The wall came up to about one quarter of the way up the trunk. The sun was very low in the sky. The 4 story building in which I work blocked most of the sun so only the top 10 feet or so of the branches were illuminated. The lower part of the trees looked black and white and 2 dimensional. The illuminated crown of the trees looked beautifully brown and rusty colored and appeared to be three dimensional. I like looking at trees during the edges of the day when only the tree tops can see the sun.

Example Of Salvadore Dali's Art

To The Lighthouse

Last night my book club had our annual Christmas party along with our monthly book club discussion. The book this month was "To The Lighthouse" by Virginia Woolf. This book is on most, if not all, the lists of the greatest modern literature. I was excited to read it until I started reading it. Lordy, how it did drag on. Half of the book is about a single dinner party. A family with 8 children are at a seaside home and planning to go to the lighthouse the next day. The father is against the idea and the kids and mother are for it. As each person at the dinner party speaks, they go into a steam of consciousness discussion about their feelings and why they're upset with someone else at the table and the possible motivations for other people to act the way they do. We'd get one or two sentences spoken aloud and the rest of the chapter would be all about what was going on in their head. And we had some messed up heads here. Virginia Woolf based this family on her own family and I can see why she battled depression all her life and ended her life with suicide. This family needed help. I'm not sure whether that help would be counseling or some 12 steps or what but help is what they needed. By the time I was halfway through the book I was really frustrated. Talk, talk, talk about going to the lighthouse and they don't go there! Why name the book "Going To The Lighthouse" if you never go to the freaking lighthouse? A single day takes up all but one chapter. The last chapter includes 10 years of time. As you might be able to tell, I wasn't happy with this book. Now, after discussing it in book club, I like it better. This book was published just after World War I, the war to end all wars. People were thinking creatively and with innovation. After brushing close with death across Europe, people became bolder. They wanted to break out of the ruts they were in. Virginia Woolf's book is a departure from the typical plot driven book. Just like Picasso and Salvadore Dali departed from the typical artwork of the time, Virginia Woolf departed from the typical fiction of her time.

Annual Bee Hive Cake

Where I work it is the tradition to bring a treat on your birthday. I've worked with one guy (the big cheese) for about 19, almost 20 years now and he always brings in 3 bee hive cakes on his birthday. Bee hive cakes are the speciality of our local bakery, Han's Bakery. Bee hive cakes do not look like bee hives. They are round, maybe 12 to 15 inch diameter and 2 or 3 inches high. The two white/honey cakes are separated by a luscious cream filling and the top is dusted with powdered sugar. I think in all these years I've had a piece of bee hive cake once, twice at the most. Cakes don't tempt me. I'm more of a cookie person. But when I came in the lunchroom today and saw those cakes on the table, I felt comforted. The bee hive cakes mark off my year much like April 15 (tax day) and the first day of summer. It's a comfort to me to see those cakes on the table.

Tough Week For Me As A Media Consumer

This week two of my favorite shows are ending; The Morning Show on MPR and Boston Legal.

I wonder if, in the end, William Shatner will be most beloved for Denny Crane or Captain James T. Kirk? Personally? I am torn.

Project Feeder Watch Update

Saturday - no birds!

Sunday - 3 white breasted nuthatches

Where have my chickadees gone? I am bereft!

Bright Shiny Morning

I just finished reading this book on CD, "Bright Shiny Morning" by James Frey. This is the notorious author who claimed to write his autobiography and was eviscerated by Oprah after she hawked his book for him. I haven't read "A Million Little Pieces" and I don't know if I will. This book, Bright Shiny Morning" was engaging. The actor who read the book was very talented and really added a lot to my enjoyment of the book. This book tells a story about Los Angeles. James Frey describes the history of the town, the roads, the natural disasters (droughts, floods, fires, earthquakes and mudslides), the gangs and the people. To describe the people, he picks out four stories and follows them over time. One story is about a kind homeless man named Joe. Joe likes Chablis; an odd choice for an alcoholic. He heard the word Chablis as a third grader and was forever entranced by the beauty of the word Chablis. He eventually dedicated his life to Chablis. Another story is about Esperanza - an impoverished young woman on the brink of adulthood who seems unable to make peace with her body. The third story is a couple from the east coast who moved to Los Angeles to escape the alcoholic terror of their childhood homes. This couple is very much in love. The last story is about a truly messed up individual who has all the fame and fortune Hollywood can provide. I would not recommend this book if you are the least bit sensitive to coarse language. I'm not overly sensitive to it but this book had the f word in it 50 times more frequently than any other book I have read. Sometimes there were 4 f words in a single sentence. This book had the f word as a command, an expletive, a verb, an adjective and as a compound word (motherf-r). You'd think the author (who I heard was offered 1 million for this story) could think up better words or at least give us some variation. But if coarse language doesn't trouble you, you just might like this book.

First Chili Of The Season

Combine the following ingredients in a crock pot: 1 can diced tomatoes, 1 can diced tomatoes with garlic and basil, 1 small can corn, 3 cans beans (I used northern white, light red, and garbanzo beans), 1 can black bean soup, 1 can vegetarian baked beans, 1 large onion (diced), 10 sun-dried tomato slices, 1/2 cup diced bok choy (or celery), and sliced mushrooms. Cook on low 6 hours. Add a packet of chili seasoning. Stir and enjoy.

Swift

Tonight after work I met some knitting friends in Anoka and we traveled the icy roads to a yarn store in Osseo. The store is called Yarn Appeal. We oohed and aahed over all the beautiful skeins of yarn. They had yarns in every color. Many yarns were imported and some were hand dyed. I saw one skein alone for $38. I was good and didn't buy anything. I have to discipline myself to one knitting project at a time so I don't go overboard. It doesn't hurt to look and get inspired though. A friend was looking for some 100% yarn so she could felt (knit first then wash in hot water to shrink)some flowers onto a baby sweater. The walls and shelves of the store display items already knitted for ideas - felt bags, felt slippers, felt mittens and hats, even felt clogs. Knitted scarves, shawls, sweaters, jackets, hats, purses, mittens and socks. They had knitting needles in all shapes and sizes. Some needles were made of metal, others wood, others glass, and some needles had jeweled tips. They had awesome buttons in all shapes and sizes and colors. What caught me eye though, is when when they used the swift. A yarn swift is a wooden mechanism designed to hold the skein of yarn while it is unrolled and made into a ball. The arms of the swift go up and down as the swift is cranked around and around by pulling the yarn off of it. The faster you crank the higher the arms go up. You can collapse the swift inward to put the yarn on it and then pull it outward to hold the yarn steady. I watched enthralled as they wound up four skeins of white wool yarn. I can picture a swift like this being used in a yarn shop back in the 1700's by women wearing bonnets and bustles.

Wah Wah

I started out my day at a meeting in another city so by the time I got to work, all the premium parking places were gone. I had to park in what I call Egypt but is actually just the eastern side of the parking lot. Wah, wah, I'm whining. As I left the sun was shining but snow was coming down. Given the fact that we were having a snow shower, we should have been given a rainbow to go with it. But no such luck. The cold air hit me like a punch in the nose. Why did I wear a skirt today? My shoulders automatically hike up and my back goes tense. Wind swirled the snow around my feet across the pavement. It wasn't that long ago that I had to worry about my motorcycle kickstand sinking into this hard pavement. I just don't like winter. I shouldn't worry. My car was tuned up this week. I had my furnace turned up and cleaned last month. I'm all set but I just don't like it. Wah. And wah.

A Conversation

Me (out loud): Hi, I have a question. How much would it cost to buy a card for swimming laps?
She: Not to make an assumption,
Me (not out loud): But I bet you will. Much like people who say, "I don't mean to be rude" and then are rude. Or people who say, "Not to be argumentative" and then are argumentative.
She: Because I don't make assumptions about people, but you are a senior?
Me (out loud): No.
Me (not out loud): Listen girlie, I'm more than a decade away from being a senior, thank you very much.
She: Because you can save money on a card if you are a senior. You get a discount.
Me (out loud): No.
Me (not out loud): So, not only do you think I'm a senior, you think I'm a vain senior who is too proud to take the discount! Someday wrinkles will happen to you too.

Migwe's Singing

Anyone who has been to my house lately knows that Migwe has been in a singing mood. Fall is the time of love in a canary's life. And Migwe is singing his love songs loud and sometimes ear pierceingly clear. But no matter how he sings his lusty little heart out, no female canaries have appeared in his life. We've recently started playing some Christmas albums and he sings along. Sometimes when the song changes keys, he changes keys right along with it. And as the song goes along and comes to a climax with the tempo and the melody, his singing matches the climax. How does he know? Prior to living in Ramsey, my little Russian canary lived at the Robbinsdale Farm and Garden Store. I can imagine they play Christmas songs there too. Does he remember Christmas songs from last year? I was reading a publication called Birdscope - a periodical put out by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. In an article titled, "Birds Change Their Minds-Literally" the author cites research on small, long-lived birds like the chickadee and the canary. In a process called neuronal replacement, the birds erase old useless facts to make room for what they need to remember now. By doing this, the little birds can adapt to changes in their environments and social flocks. Chickadees from Colorado were compared with chickadees from Alaska. In harsher environments, the bird brain hippocampus is larger. Alaskan chickadees have to store more food and remember their hiding places to survive. So, if Migwe's little bird brain material is replaceable, how is it he remembers Christmas songs? Perhaps because he doesn't have to remember much, he remembers more. He doesn't have to hide his food. He gets fresh food in a dish every day. He doesn't have to remember where to get fresh water because that is provided as well. The article says the love songs the canary sings in the fall will not be the same love songs he sings next fall. He'll forget the old songs and create new ones. Personally, I don't mind his singing. I feel comforted to hear him sing. Next Thanksgiving I might put him in a bedroom for the day because I saw some guests cringing when he hit the high notes.

Project Feeder Watch Update

Saturday - 2 black capped chickadees

Sunday - 2 slate colored juncos, 2 black capped chickadees

Woot! Woot!

Not to brag, but . . . no wait, yes to brag - I got the second "bingo" in scrabble in my entire life yesterday. The word was "astound." Yes! 50 bonus points and a high five for me!!!!