Dixie Peach

Pull Up Stakes. Come Follow Me.

2011-03-30T22:39:00.002+02:00

Oh let's not fool ourselves any longer. I made promises but I'm not going to keep them. I've neglected this blog something terrible. To the point where I think it's pretty well jinxed.

So I'm making a whole new start. I've started a whole new blog.

Top Floor Corner

C'mon over. Else I'll miss you awful bad.

Fun Can Be Good For You

2011-01-03T21:33:00.005+01:00

Let's do a little obligatory wrapping up of loose ends from last year. All that planned Christmas knitting? None of it finished. Hated the cowl I was knitting for B's aunt. I may start it again with a different pattern. The advent calendar wrap? Two days of it completed! Not even two days. More like 1.75 days. But I did download the whole pattern and it's sitting on my Kindle (Yay! Knitting patterns can be kept on my Kindle!). My biggest reason for not finishing that one is that I'm not overly thrilled with the yarn I selected. That's the biggest problem with picking a yarn before you've actually see the pattern - you can pick the wrong stuff. Love the yarn though so I'm now searching for a different pattern for a wrap that doesn't need a more delicate yarn to show off its stuff. With what I have I think I'll do a wrap in a feather-and-fan pattern. As for the last planned Christmas knitting, the socks for B's uncle are about 3/4 finished. I have another week before he comes back into town for a chemo treatment and by then they'll be done.

I wasn't anti-Christmas this year but I lacked the regular enthusiasm for it that I normally have. I listened to very little Christmas music. Watched some Christmas movies but ended up having to turn off It's a Wonderful Life before George realized the world couldn't have done without him and never got back to watching it. I did manage to introduce B to the Christmas specials I loved as a child. Best part? Watching Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer and when I asked him how he liked it, B replied "Santa's sort of an asshole in this one, isn't he?". During the whole run-up to Christmas the weather was lousy - either rainy or snowy for weeks on end - so I ended up getting to the Christmas market only twice. Quite a difference compared to the normally 20-25 times I'd go. And I think that's what was killing my enthusiasm for the holidays. I wasn't in my regular routine and it was dampening the whole mood. I was even sick of my decorations before the actual day hit. But Christmas itself was very nice. Christmas Eve was spent with B and my MIL and on Christmas Day B's aunt and uncle joined us. B's uncle was even feeling better during his break from chemotherapy and for the first time in months he had a good appetite so while all the trappings of Christmas weren't revving me up this year, the things that really mattered were there and it was the part I loved best.

Now it's the new year and true to form I will not be making any resolutions. I find no need in imposing on myself goals that, while perhaps good for me, will not be enjoyable to reach and so more likely not to be reached. I have no need to start my year with a predestined sense of failure. Instead I want to set for myself some things to aim for that will make me happier and better all around and will not be painful. Here are some things that I want to incorporate in my life in 2011:

1. Read more non-fiction books. More biographies and books on science, history, different cultures, whatever. I read a lot of fiction and while I enjoy reading about worlds an author creates for me I also want to read more about the world as it is and the history of the world I'm in. I'm already making good on this goal. Right now the audiobook I'm listening to is Cleopatra: A Life by Stacy Schiff. The whole ancient Egypt/Greece/Rome thing has never particularly interested me but this is a biography I'm enjoying. I think Cleopatra is more interesting as she was than as she's been depicted over the past 2000+ years. I'm also reading This Republic of Suffering by Drew Gilpin Faust. It's a book about how the US Civil War changed the US's view of death and its rituals. I think it's a good book but honestly, one would have love beyond-the-normal Civil War history and have a bit of a fascination with death for it be enjoyable. And if that's not gruesome enough I'm about halfway finished with reading The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher by Kate Summerscale which, at its essence, is a book about the 1860 murder of an English three-year-old boy. It's a little more than that really. Solving the murder is just one part of it. The book also deals with the development of the detectives and how they became more popular in literature. I have a few ideas of what non-fiction works I next want to read but I'll save them for when I'm actually reading them.

2. I live on the 5th floor of my building. Using the stairs instead of the elevator is something that anyone wanting to incorporate more exercise in their daily routine would do but honestly, I'm too lazy for that. Too lazy, 100 steps between up to the 5th floor, and when I'm going up I'm generally carrying 5-10 pounds of stuff with me. But I usually empty handed when I'm going out so while I don't want to climb up to my flat, I could take the stairs down when I leave. Maybe the exercise I'd get from it isn't as good as it would be going up but it would be helpful for my flexibility and with improving my balance and since I have a terrible sense of balance I can use all the help I can give myself.

3. Finishing some knitting projects that don't involve footwear. I have too many half-finished shawls and wraps.

4. Learn some new knitting skills. And that means either toe-up socks or two color knitting that's not mosaic knitting. Sigh This is supposed to be fun, right?

5. Find new music as often as I can. That will definitely be fun. Maybe it'll make up for the frustration I'll feel when I'm trying to juggle multiple spools of yarn during color knitting.

6. Eat more vegetables. I think I can do this easier if I eat them at breakfast. I'm much more likely to eat a raw bell pepper or cucumber if I do it first thing.

Hope your new year gets filled with goals that you have fun reaching.

Comes Out Even in the End

2010-11-30T23:16:00.003+01:00

Stuff I've accomplished in the past four days:

1. Laundry is caught up except for one load of towels. I'd wash them but I'm out of room on the clothesline. I've been high on fabric softener all day.

2. Printed first day's pattern for the Advent scarf and have resisted starting it. I feel like a magpie that's spotted something shiny.

3. Christmas decorations are all up except for the tree. I save that for third Advent Sunday. I get all sentimental about my Christmas decorations but some of them really need to be retired. Some are shabby looking and some simply make me think "What in the world compelled me to buy that?

4. All the Christmas shopping for my friends and family in the US is complete. When I first moved to Germany this was an especially stressful task. First, I was limited to what I could buy because I had to consider how breakable the item was, how heavy and how easy it would be to pack for international mailing. After purchasing and packing I'd then haul it to the post office and proceed to pay international postage that was more than the sum of the items in the box. Then began the tense waiting until the box arrived. I finally stopped that shit when I had a box never arrive - a box that between the contents and the postage set me back a good $350. Now I shop online and have stuff sent directly to my family from merchants on that side of the world. I don't pay as much postage so they get nicer gifts and I can spend my run up to the holidays not having a stroke over a package that hasn't arrived yet.

5. Pitched a complete fit at my husband. Yelled at him for stuff that wasn't his fault. Felt so awful about it later that I cried my eyes out and offered to let him take away Bastian the iPod for a week.

6. Figured out that Bastian the iPod will fit in the speakers originally purchased for Fletcher the iPod if I would merely take out the adapter piece. I say that I deserve to take the money that I saved by not buying new speakers and sink it into downloading more music as a reward for discovering what should have been obvious to me.

Stuff still not completed even though I've had the past four days to do it:

1. Socks for B's uncle still aren't finished. In fact I've barely worked on them at all. I still have to do another set of decreases before I can even call the gusset finished. I still have a lot of inches of foot left to knit before I can call it finished. And a whole second sock to do.

2. Old TV guides and catalogs still not taken to recycling bin. I'm considering building a summer home from them.

3. Haven't taken the time to walk over to my MIL's and pick up the Christmas treat B's aunt got for us. I asked what it was and B said "It's a Spieldose". I said "That's a music box, right?" and B, in all seriousness, replied "No. It's a box that plays music". Thanks for the clarification, hon!

4. Need to drag myself to the dentist to make an appointment to have a crown put in and then go to the doctor's office to have blood taken. Bring on some more pre-holiday anxiety, if you please.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to work on a sock.

25%

2010-11-27T00:52:00.002+01:00

That's how much of the socks I'm knitting are finished. I always consider that when I turn the heel of a sock - in other words make it so that the part of the sock I'm knitting changes from being vertical to being horizontal - that I'm halfway finished and since it's a pair that translates to a 25% finished project. Really I'm a little more past the halfway point. I've turned the heel and have picked up the heel stitches - in other words attached the back of the heel to the rest of the sock - and am now knitting the gusset decreases - tapering the sock down from being the wide part that goes around your heel to the more slender part that goes around your foot.

By the time this is over you may become quite knowledgeable about the different parts of sock knitting. And if you don't happen to knit socks or even knit at all I can't imagine a more pointless thing to know.

I'll see if I can get a couple pictures of my progress tomorrow.

Anyone Got a Spare Week?

2010-11-24T22:25:00.004+01:00

I'm a bit self-centered. I suppose we're all a bit self-centered but my case of narcissistic behavior tends to crop up at times that make me look like an exceptional shit.

And here's today's example:

B's uncle, Gerald, has colon cancer. He was diagnosed in September and it's pretty bad. It's spread, the tumors can't be removed and he's undergoing chemotherapy every couple weeks in an effort to extend his life at least some. It's awful to see how cancer has ravaged him and all the while he's trying to be as upbeat as he can. Gerald truly is a calm, thoughtful man. He loves his books, he loves to listen to opera and symphonies and he likes his quiet life. So one would think that those of us who care about him would put him first, right?

I've failed that test.

Remember how a couple weeks ago I mentioned that I'm trying to knit a cowl for Gabi for Christmas? I've made some headway on it but I changed the pattern and as the cowl grows I can see it's likely going to be too...I dunno...ribby...to be a good cowl. It's a basketweave pattern that tends to draw in the fabric. It's hard to stay interested in a project that's probably not going to be completed so I've put it aside. In the meantime I've joined a knit-along group to make an advent calendar scarf. Instead of each day opening each little door of an advent calendar I will instead get a piece of the pattern for a lace scarf and by Christmas morning I should have a completed scarf. Actually what I will have is a lump of knitting that resembles a pile of limp noodles until I take the time to block it but that's beside the point. The point of the project is to knit the same thing each day that knitters all around the world are knitting, share our experience with it and take time out during the busy holiday season to be restful and still and creative. I figure that to keep up with the project it'll take me somewhere between two and three hours of knitting each day, which is pushing it for me finding free time.

I decided that I really want to work on this advent scarf and then search for a different lace cowl for Gabi and do it for her birthday in January. So that I'd be ready for the first part of the pattern to be given on December 1st I've found the proper needles in my gawdawful nest of circular needles, bought new yarn and have been giving myself a bit of a pep talk each day to convince myself that I can really get this project done by Christmas. I normally have to take long breaks during lace projects because of the frustration that can go along with a lace project. This time I want to plow through it without a pause.

Here's where my character flaw comes in.

Back on the day Gabi was dropping hints about me knitting a cowl for her she also thought that a pair of hand knit socks was just what Gerald needed. I agreed that he could definitely benefit from a pair, what with him losing weight like mad and him being unable to keep himself warm, and while I didn't promise anything, I decided that I'd knit him a pair. A few days later I remembered that I had a pair of socks already finished that should fit him (and Darling Mollie, we maybe need to discuss how I gave away your socks before I could make them to you). Gerald got the socks, they fit, he loves them and I understand he has trouble letting them go long enough for them to be washed.

Tonight Gabi called and again raved about how Gerald loves the socks I knit. They're just the right weight, they're warm, they're comfortable and so on. I love that Gerald loves his socks. It makes me happy that he's got something going right for him during these weeks of a shitload of things going wrong. And if I'd been even sort of perceptive I'd have known that he'd want another pair of socks and I'd have already started them.

I'm not that perceptive.

Gabi has begged for another pair of socks for Gerald. And there's no question that I'll knit them for him. But December 1st - the date my knit along starts - is a week away and under normal circumstances I can only get one sock knit in one week. The selfish side of me is hollering loudly that it's not fair that I have to crank out a pair of socks before I can finally knit something for me. The sane side of me is saying "Shut up. Do you have cancer? No? Then shut up. Just be sweet for someone who's suffering".

If I don't have the socks finished by December 1st I have a few choices. A. I can knit both the socks and each day's piece of the scarf all at the same time and likely become a snarling bitch or B. I can finish the socks and then start the scarf late and perhaps knit two days worth of pattern pieces each day until I'm caught up or C. skip days of the scarf pattern...it's supposed to be possible that a day's pattern can be easily left out or D. knit like a house a-fire and get these socks finished by December 1st.

I think option D has potential. The socks are simple - it's just straight stockinette stitch. No cables, no lace, no textured pattern. I can give up some spare-time activities like reading and knit every spare moment I have until they're finished. I'm a pretty slow knitter and so getting a pair of socks finished in a week will be one of the biggest knitting challenges I've given myself but maybe a good challenge is what I need.

So how about y'all cheering me on? I'll knit these socks, give y'all updates here and if I'm lagging you can give me a virtual nudge forward. Anything will help. The real advantage is that the sooner they're finished the sooner Gerald can have them because let's face it - he needs all the things he can enjoy that he can get. And I need all the lessons in putting others first that I can get.

Family History

2010-11-15T21:30:00.003+01:00

Four years ago I wrote about the relationship I had with my father. Today's would have been my father's 85th birthday and so I dug back in my blog archives to read it. I've done that each year since I wrote it.

In that post I wrote that I don't think of my father each day. At the time it was true. At least I believed it was true. Maybe it was only my perception at the time because now I pay attention to it more and I find that while I likely don't think of him each and every day I probably think of him most days. We'll call it 28 out of 31 days.

As I grow older I look back on the relationship I had with my dad and I find more regret creeping into the mix of feelings it brings. By nature I'm not one who dwells on regrets forever. Oh I regret plenty but I also am the sort who thinks that I can't change it now so why keep stewing over it? I've also found that over the years the regret I feel has changed. It used to be regret over not having the sort of relationship with him that I wanted. That all daughters deserve. I regretted that my dad and I weren't close. That I felt that he was disappointed in me. That I did things that disappointed him. That sort of regret would soon morph into me being angry with him. Anger that some of his disappointment in me was something he could have fixed if he'd just bothered to do it. He was the adult. He had more control that I did. If he was so worried about my grades or my lack of focus or my inability to reach goals then he sure could have stepped up and lent a little guidance. But that sort of anger is like the regret I can't fix now because it's too late. Why lose my mind over something that can't be altered now?

Now the regret I feel when I think about my dad is regret over my not taking advantage of the time I had with him. So many questions I wish I could have the answers to now. I regret not asking him more about his childhood. My dad lost his mother when he was six years old. What sort of effect does that have on a kid from rural Mississippi? Why didn't I ask him about his school years? Ask him about his extended family? I found out recently that his maternal grandmother didn't die until sometime in the 1950s when she was extremely old. There must have been stories about her my dad could have told me. Why didn't I ask him more about the 22 years he spent in the Navy? I know he had some adventures I would have loved to have heard.

Well I know why I didn't ask him these things. Because I was too shy to ask. Because I never felt close enough to my dad to feel as though asking him to tell me stories was an okay thing to do. I hate that feeling. I hate that he never felt close enough to me to volunteer to tell me about his life. I had 30 years with my dad and sometimes it feels as though he is some mysterious figure. If I wasn't there to witness it myself - if it didn't happen in my lifetime - then it's lost to me for good.

But I can't fix that now. And eventually I believe I'll be able to think back on my dad without so much regret. I've put away most of my anger and I'm making place for the regret.

Show Me Your Wares

2010-11-10T21:14:00.003+01:00

When I'm home in the US for a visit I find that I have very limited time to watch television and that's understandable. No one wants to fly 5,000 miles to see folks you only see every few years and then spend one's time watching TV. I do watch it though. I like HGTV and try to catch a few programs here and there. I watch the news. And if there's some special program I try to catch that as well. But what I really love to see on TV are the commercials. I'm fascinated by them.

When I first moved to Germany I liked to watch the commercials because they showed me products I'd not seen before or maybe products that I knew but have another name. It's where I learned that Dawn dishwashing liquid is called Fairy in Europe. Downy fabric softener is called Lenor. What we call a Milky Way in America is called Mars in Europe and Milky Ways in Europe are something else entirely. Vicks anything is called Wick because you definitely want it pronounced how English speakers pronounce Vs and not how German speakers pronounce Vs. It's where I learned that canned soups are usually not condensed, hard liquor is advertised on TV and it's possible that you may see a naked butt in a margarine commercial. You're liable to see a naked butt or even boobs in any sort of commercial.

After a while the commercials in Germany became passe and I tuned them out. Then I went back to the US for a visit and my interested in American TV commercials rose and with each subsequent visit my interest only continued to rise. I liked some commercials because they were simply amusing but my interest was really in what they were selling. I didn't want what they were selling but I loved seeing what there was on offer to the American consuming public. There were new products. Improved products. The same old product but with a different packaging or label. There were new stores and services to offer. I could watch American TV commercials and get a mini refresher course in American pop culture. And if I happened to be in the US near a big holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas then I'd get a feeling of nostalgia. There's nothing like seeing a commercials for Cool Whip and Pillsbury crescent rolls to make me think of Thanksgiving.

I have an application on my computer that live streams British TV and what's the thing I like best to watch? The commercials naturally, and for the same reason I like watching them in the US. I just like seeing what they have to offer. I feel like I'm getting a glimpse into ordinary life in Britain when I see what they consume and what shops and restaurants they have and what services you can get. There are lots of products for sale in Britain that you can buy in Germany. Some of them use the exact same commercial - we just see them dubbed in German. It's funny to hear how the jingle for Calgon water softener uses the same tune as is used in Germany but the English lyrics don't fit in quite as well as they do in German. But what I find irresistible are commercials for things that to me are very British. I got such a kick out of seeing an ad for frozen mince pies. It's not something I'd see in Germany or in the US.

Christmas is coming and the commercials for the holiday have already started. I'm nearly as excited to see the ads as I am the special Christmas movies and programs. Too bad that that even the most clever commercial can't sell me their product.

Making Myself Do It

2010-11-08T21:29:00.002+01:00

The thing about not writing is that not writing makes it harder to write when you decide you want to get back to writing. And, as it turns out, also seems to make you construct some pretty awkward sentences.

Since I was for well over a year shunning any writing that was any longer than a Facebook status update I feel pretty out of sorts. Idea come into my head but don't seem to form themselves into coherent sentences and I'm afraid if this keeps up I may have to give up all together. Give up before I've even given myself a chance to get started good. So to that end, and if you'll kindly indulge me, I'm going to take some time over the next few weeks or so to just write simple things - stuff with the aim of getting myself into practice. It may be lists of things or maybe just a small memory of something that pops into my mind. Nothing fancy but then again fancy is a word seldom used in reference to me.

They say the best way to learn to write is to write so I'll take that advice.

Fears I'd like to conquer:

1. Riding escalators. A drunken fall down one over fifteen years ago gave me a pretty strong fear of them. It used to be that I'd avoid them at nearly any cost but doing that has become not only inconvenient but embarrassing as well. In the past six months I've gotten better and use them almost exclusively. Riding up one is no trick at all anymore but riding down? I'd like to do it without screaming internally.

2. Kitchen hazards. My husband was a professional chef before his accident. I've heard a lot of stories about what it's like to go to cooking school for a couple years, work as an apprentice cook and then graduate, work as a cook and then actually be the one who runs the whole kitchen. I've also heard lots of stories of how he's cut his hands repeatedly, burned himself and even the terrifying story of how nearly boiling oil was dumped down his leg. All these stories have convinced me that if I went to work in a professional kitchen I'd be fired within an hour. I must have overly sensitive skin on my hands because I shy away from any source of heat. Taking anything out of the oven or off the stove required that I wear the thickest oven mitts I can find. I cannot bear to fry food if my skin is in any way exposed. I wear an old glove to cover my hand while frying bacon. And chopping vegetables takes me quite a while because I'm afraid of cutting my fingers. I can't even fathom using something like an electric slicer.

3. Birds. I have a love/hate thing with birds. Birds that are outdoors, flying around doing their birdy thing are all right. And birds in cages are fine even if I feel sorry for them. The problem is when they want to interact with me. I get a little wiggy if pigeons walk too close to me. Sparrows that land on the same park bench as I'm sitting on are okay but keep your little ass on that side. And heaven forbid I be indoors when a parakeet is loose.

4. Electric drills. I can use them in a desperate situation but all I think about is the drill bit breaking off and flying into my skull. To that end I have to ask someone to come drill holes for me every time I want a picture hung.

5. Climbing ladders. I don't mind heights. What I do mind is my crap sense of balance. I've been skittish about climbing too high since I was in college and stepped backwards off a desk onto a chair that was supposed to be there and was instead there. One trip to the ER and diagnosis of a mild concussion later...

Friday Shuffle - Don't Promise What You Can't Deliver Edition

2010-11-05T21:37:00.003+01:00

Once in a while I have to remind myself yet again that there's a reason why I don't knit things as gifts for others. Let me correct that. I knit virtually everything as a gift for another - I just don't knit them as a specific gift for a specific event or holiday. That's because I'm almost always doomed to either not finishing it on time or picking a project that's so irksome to knit that I'll give up in the middle of it.

B's aunt - the one that I switch from being very grateful for to her being the one I'd like to strangle - is one hell of a hint dropper. The other week when she was here visiting she gave me a wink wink, nudge nudge that she's not only like a pair of hand knit socks but she'd like a cowl. Or snood. Or wimple. Or smoke ring. Whatever you prefer to call it. One of those tube-like scarves you wear around your neck and then can pull up over your head like a hood.

Socks are easy to dole out. I tend to have a supply of hand knit socks at the ready. A cowl is different. I didn't let on like me knitting a cowl for her would be possible but after she left and after I kicked around the idea a little I thought that I'd have enough time to knit for her a simple lace cowl for Christmas. She's a pain in the ass to find a gift for anyway so this project would save me all sort of frustrating and fruitless shopping trips.

I found a simple pattern I like. I ordered the yarn - very nice, high end yarn. Even ordered new circular needles because A. I didn't have circular needles short enough for the project and B. I never know where in the hell my circular needles get off to anyway.

I've started twice now to knit this cowl and twice now I've ripped it out. It's not a difficult pattern to knit but it's one that can be easily screwed up by failing to do one increase or one decrease. And goodness knows I despise fixing an error in lace knitting. I despise it even more when I've got 132 stitches in a round to hunt through to find the error.

Finding another pattern to knit - one that's not a lace pattern - seems to be a good alternative but it's got to be one that's going to be able to use this yarn with these needles. I could go with other yarn but these needles will be a must since I really don't have any circular needles that aren't too long to accommodate a cowl that's about 22 inches in diameter. So far I'm not having any luck so the other alternative - make 22 stitch markers, stop whimpering and just knit the lace - seems more likely.

On to other things.

It's likely passe and cheesy to do an iPod shuffle on Fridays but my friend, Jane, likes it. And if I can't give Aunt Annoying her cowl for Christmas the least I can do is give Jane her Friday Shuffles. Plus y'all need to meet my new iPod, Bastian. Let's go.

She's A Beauty - The Tubes
Fallin' & Flyin' - Jeff Bridges and Colin Farrell
Affection - The Lost Boys
I Drive All Night - Roy Orbison
The Belgian Tune - Blackbeard's Tea Party
Queen Bitch - David Bowie
Mrs. Vandebilt - Paul McCartney & Wings
(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love And Understanding - Die Toten Hosen
Town Without Pity - Gene Pitney
Selfmachine - I Blame Coco

Aaaaand Here's Two

2010-11-03T21:20:00.003+01:00

I purposely didn't write a blog entry yesterday.

When I made the decision to write in my blog again I realized it would coincide with NaBloPoMo and I'd been an eager participant (and smug...what?...accomplisher?) up until the time I'd went on my self imposed hiatus. The itch to try it again was felt and I found myself talking myself out of it this time around.

A big reason - maybe really the only reason - I stopped writing in my blog was because it became like work to me. All day I would consider things to write about, compose paragraphs in my head that would soon be diluted by the time I actually got around to writing actual words, weigh one topic against another or - worse - find myself with nothing to write about that interested me. Writing is like work at times but it should be work that at the end of it all gives a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction and not work that gives the same feeling a burned out customer service representative gets when she's been screamed at for the 400th time about a late payment charge and OH MY GOD CAN'T YOU SEE WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO MY FAMILY WHY CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND WHY THIS 42 CENT CHARGE IS RUINING US?!?!

I told myself that this time I'd do things in my own time. I'd write when I felt like I wanted to and if I really didn't give a shit about writing that would be fine. Challenging myself to write every day even when it becomes painful would only end up pissing me off and make me start hating to write and what would become of us then? I'd be deprived of an outlet for my thoughts, the ability to commune with others and you'd be deprived of reading about...well...the Christmas market or some other selling-fried-cinnamony-dough-snacks street festival.

So I took it upon myself to sabotage myself from the start. Break the streak before one gets started. No NaBloPoMo-ing. And no forced writing. I'm trying very hard to cut out things from my life that feel imposed if their imposition isn't going to improve things for me at all. I want to find the fun that goes along with the work.

And maybe this year you'll get pictures of fried-cinnamony-dough-snacks.

So I Came Back

2010-11-01T22:40:00.002+01:00

This thing still work?

So after an absence of nearly a year and a half, blah blah blah blah...you know where I'm going with this. I blogged. I got tired of blogging. I stopped. I got to urge to write again. I came back. Your classic a-peach-and-her-blog story.

Life continued even though I failed to document it in words. Since the last time I wrote here a few things happened:

Right after I late wrote here, and I mean within a couple days afterward, my MIL's ~~live in mooch~~ gentleman friend, Gerd, showed his ass on my and B's tenth wedding anniversary. Obviously not literally but close. Metaphoric ass-showing is a no-no with my MIL and within a week she'd told him that he needed to find another place to live. We were elated.

Our dog, Bonnie, developed tumors around her bladder and in May we had to let her go. Putting a pet to rest continues to be one of the worst things in the world one has to eventually face. I cried until it like to broke my heart.

B and I once again became magnets for freak neighbors. The near-constant piano playing from the neighbors above us was one thing but the end was being terrorized by other neighbors. One never knew when yet another fight would break out in the hallway - complete with the smashing of beer bottles against our door. We found another flat that's bigger, more beautiful, in a better location and, curiously enough, cheaper than our old flat. We're on the top floor, I have a nice view of the city, our neighbors are nice, it's quiet here. I love it. And now that I've made that declaration in writing I've probably doomed us.

I lost about twenty pounds. I then gained back about fifteen. I'm thinking of it as recycling.

MIL got back together with Gerd late last winter. She didn't have him move back in with her but he was in her place all the time. My MIL didn't tell us for quite a while but we suspected that he was back on the scene. And as I had predicted at the time Gerd once again showed his ass and get was given the gate one final time. Really final. Changed the locks sort of final. We were elated.

I still knit. Still read a lot. Still get giddy of the idea of the Christmas market (opens on November 22nd...mark your calendars!). Still am ridiculously crazy about my husband.

The really good things never change.

The Lazy Peach's Way Out

2009-07-29T22:07:00.003+02:00

Facebook is killing me. I waste more time messing with virtual farms and houses and mafia crews and taking inane quizzes. Maybe it makes up for my ability to get a houseplant to live for more than six months and YoVille houses never need cleaning but at any rate the virtual upkeep of these distractions wears on my desire to write. And you know what that leads to, don't you? Bulleted lists.

So - the search for a new flat goes on. The first one I looked at was wonderful. It still needed to have the main renovations done and still I could see that it was the perfect flat for us. Big rooms, perfect location - the works. I nearly wept when the lady from the rental company said they'd put in whatever floors we wanted and they'd retile the kitchen. Wept because there's no way we can live there. This building was originally built without an elevator and so when one was put in later they had to put it up one set of eight steep steps. The portable ramps we own won't work without being very hazardous and there's no way to get to the elevator otherwise. I still can't get that flat out of my head but I've had to stop mentioning around B. He feels so guilty that he's the reason we can't move there that when I talk about how much I loved that flat it hurts his feelings. Right now I'm working on getting the right combination of location, an elevator that goes all the way to the ground floor, price, and the right amount of space. We don't really need to move (so far) so we'll just take our time and keep looking.
I got my new glasses and I have to say that I like them. I see well out of them, they're comfortable and I think they look at least halfway decent on me. B likes them as well but he's very easy to please. I'll try to do the picture thing soon.
B and I planned on going out this weekend for our 10th wedding anniversary but that's not going to work out. He's got a problem with his left heel that will keep him from being able to wear a shoe or put any weight on his foot. A big disc of dead skin grew on his heel and normally it would get dry and peel off on its own but this time it created a sort of pressure sore underneath it. I got some cream from B's dermatologist that was supposed to help with the disc of skin coming off but it didn't work as well as we'd hoped and underneath the dead skin the pressure of it...I don't know...killed off the blood supply. Don't ask me - I don't know shit about this sort of pressure sore. It's like a pressure sore that's not open to the surface but fluid would build up underneath and created a blister and then it popped and leaked out and then the dead skin loosened but I didn't dare remove it because the sking underneath still looked raw. All I know is that while the dermatologist was on vacation in China I kept down any infection as best I could by cleaning the wound and slapping on a pantload of antibiotic cream. I did pretty well because by the time the dermatologist saw the wound today he congratulated me on keeping B's foot from getting too funky. The doctor then clipped off all the dead and funky skin and for the next two weeks I have to keep it cleaned and dressed and B has to stay in bed - no shoes, no sitting in a wheelchair with the weight of his leg pressing on his heel. B's afraid that he's disappointing me by not being able to take me out to celebrate our anniversay but I told it to him straight. Being married means we take care of each other and that's always going to be our priority, not going out to dinner.
I want to find whoever developed Januvia and kiss them. With tongue.

Friday Shuffle - Foiled Again Edition

2009-07-17T23:17:00.003+02:00

I was all revved up to show you pictures of the flat I won't be moving to but that fell through for today. The lady from the rental company was short handed at the office and couldn't leave so we're rescheduled for early Monday morning. I realize it seems ridiculous to be all hepped up about seeing a flat I won't live in but there is a bit of logic to my madness. First I'll get to see what the flats in that style of building are like in case one becomes free in a building where B can access the elevator. Second I need to talk to the rental company lady about getting me on any waiting lists for suitable buildings. And third, I'm a masochist. I want to see how nice this flat is and then whine about it for a few hours. Certainly not longer than a day. Honest.

Let's shuffle.

No Reply - The Beatles
For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her - Simon & Garfunkel
Sing - Travis
The Loving - XTC
Hold On - Sarah McLachlan
Man On The Moon - REM
Lyla - Oasis
The Pharoahs - Neko Case
I Want To Know - The Mavericks
Swoon - Maria Doyle Kennedy

Try, Try Again

2009-07-14T23:21:00.002+02:00

I found out today that the flat we'd be seeing on Friday doesn't have elevator access that goes to the ground floor. There are six steps up to the elevator so that puts us out. And the elevator doesn't seem to be large enough for B's wheelchair so even if there weren't steps it wouldn't be suitable anyway.

I knew I shouldn't have done this. Find a flat that seemed so perfect. Right floor plan, right number of square meters, right price and location. Next thing you know I'm picking out paint colors in my mind, planning on where I'm going to put furniture and imagining myself walking all of thirty seconds before I'm at the Christmas market. I start seeing myself in that perfect flat and then bam! One thing doesn't fit with us and I've spent my time daydreaming for nothing.

I'm still going to meet with the lady from the rental company on Friday. I'm fairly sure that there are other flats in that area in that style that, if not available right now, will be one day. Maybe we can get on a waiting list or something. We're not going to give up yet looking for our dream apartment but I think I'll say myself some frustration and disappointment by giving up the daydreaming.

Friday Shuffle - Time to Pack Edition

2009-07-10T23:34:00.003+02:00

Last Saturday after I got home from my trip to Hannover B asked me if I'd like to move. He wasn't sure how the conversation got started but sometime while I was gone he got to talking with my MIL and Gerd about us moving.

And just as soon as B mentioned the idea to me I became very enthusiastic.

You longtime readers will remember all the trouble I had with my former neighbors at our old building. If you don't know the story dig back into my archives starting in April 2005 and read through to the time when we moved in November 2005. Anyway, over time I've been a little dissatisfied with my flat. I hate my kitchen. I make no bones about that. I had a perfect kitchen at my old flat and now my kitchen is so small that I couldn't cuss a cat without getting a hair in my mouth. I'm not thrilled that I don't have a real view from my living room window and balcony. And then there are some problems with my neighbors. The people who live above me play the piano every day, sometimes for four or five hours at a time. The new guy who moved in at the end of my hall and his buddies leave their bikes in front of the mailboxes and they slam the door - usually between 2:00 and 3:00 AM. And someone keeps smoking in the elevator. That's the one that really irks me. I mean that one is beyond rule breaking and has entered the realm of illegal.

Back when we were looking for a new flat in 2005 we had considered moving a little closer to the old market square than we are now. The apartments there are the ones that were first built after the war and were always the ones that were the hardest to get. I had been afraid to live in them though because I was afraid that they'd be expensive to heat and I didn't know how well I'd do with living in the busiest part of the city. We settled on a flat that's about two blocks up from where we'd considered living and while it's not a bad flat, it simply doesn't have any personality.

I now like the idea of getting just that much closer to the center of town. Now that I know what it's like living down here I think it's something I could do with more intensity. Not just be a block away from all the action but be in the middle of it. So for the last week B and I have been looking online at available flats in that area. The street we'd most like to live on doesn't have any available flats but there's one around the corner that's available and we've reserved it for two weeks so that no one can rent it out from under us until we make a final decision. It's in a Stalinbau building - it's a style that was used in East Germany right after the war that's based upon a building style in Moscow. That means the walls are much thicker than the normal Plattenbau - buildings made of concrete plates and what is the most common style in the east. The flat we're interested in is on the 5th floor, is directly across the street from the mall, and has gated parking in the courtyard. The flat is about the same amount of square meters as we have now but it has one room less and no balcony so that means the rooms are larger. And would I be closer to the Christmas market? Ohhh baby. It hardly can be closer. The Christmas market wraps around three sides of the building (it's a huge building that covers the whole block) - the side where it's not located is the side where my front door would be.

The flat was recently vacated and is now being renovated and I have an appointment to view it next Friday. It's by no means a done deal. The elevator has to be easily accessable for B, all the doors have to be wide enough for his electric wheelchair to pass and we simply have to like it. Unlike the last time we moved we're not desperate and pressed for time. If for some reason we don't want to move to this flat, we'll find another but in any case, it looks like that sometime soon I'll be getting a new address.

I'll do anything to get out of washing the windows, won't I?

On to the shuffle.

We Own The Night - The Donnas
Suffragette City - David Bowie
And She Was - Talking Heads
Where Is My Mind? - Pixies
I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab for Cutie
Island In The Sun - Weezer
Mr. E's Beautiful Blues - Eels
Your Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad - Tammy Wynette
Five O'Clock World - The Vogues
Norwegian Wood - The Beatles

Plan for One Thing, Another Happens

2009-07-07T22:30:00.003+02:00

It was my intention to show y'all some pictures of Hannover from my Saturday spent there with Christina, Claire, and Claire's husband and son - popularly known as the German and the Dude. Unfortunately I realized today that the camera was set to take photos by lamplight and I was in the bright sunshine so the photos look as though they were taken with a blue filter over the lens. Maybe I can clean them up but I don't have the time or desire at the moment. Instead, let me entertain you with this beauty:

Wouldn't I like to know how this happened. The silver Audi is in a street parking space so perhaps the truck was backing out of the loading zone and smacked into it. Or the Audi became impatient with the truck, tried to drive around it and got smacked. I just happened to look out the window while I was in the kitchen getting a glass of water and when I saw it I had to grab the camera so I could later show it to B. He's so easily entertained.

So I have no photos of Hannover but let me assure you that we had a wonderful time. Other folks were expected to join us but kids and life in general got in the way and they ended up having to beg off so us five made do. It was a great day - warm but with a good breeze and enough sunshine to give me a mild sunburn. We met up at the train station and walked over to the new city hall which, despite it's name, is not particularly new but all the same quite pretty. Being as we're a trio of smart alecks, Christina, Claire and I would say "Don't do it! Don't do it! Back out before it's too late!" when we'd pass couples who were getting married and having their photos taken before the small lake in front of city hall. Lunch was at the Block Haus and I enjoyed it thoroughly, especially it was the first beef steak I've eaten since Bill Clinton was president. After our lunch we headed over to the Marschsee, a large man-made lake in the city. The sun was about to bake us alive so we parked ourselves under some shade trees at a beer garden and chatted and drank and refreshed ourselves before starting back for the train station. By then we'd walked a good ways so our trip back was at a slower pace but it gave us the opportunity to chat more, discuss the delicious scent of linden trees, read some Latin and see a pro democracy-in-Iran march.

More refreshment was needed by then so we stopped at a ice cream cafe - and that's when I noticed we had a problem. When I reached into my handbag to get out my wallet I noticed that my cell phone wasn't in it's little pocket inside my bag. Normally I'm positively anal about putting things in their proper place in my handbag so my cell phone being gone could only mean that I'd left it somewhere. While we were at the Marschsee I called B and that was the last time I remembered seeing it. Christina called my number to see if we could hear it ring and I wish someone had taken me a picture of with my handbag up to my ear trying to hear it ring so I could locate where it was - except none of us could hear it ring. Claire and I dug through my bag and couldn't find it. A second call to my phone didn't help either. All I could think is that after I'd called B I'd set the phone down on the bench instead of putting it back in my bag. It was hard to be upset about it though because I've been very disappointed in that phone since about two weeks after buying it and it's a pre-paid phone so I didn't have to worry about someone racking up a bill. I was dreading telling B though because I knew it wouldn't be very enthusiastic about having to replace a seldom used cell phone because I'd layed it down on a park bench in Hannover. Still it was worth the loss of a phone to be able to spend the day with Christina, Claire, the German and the Dude - who just may be the most well-behaved and charming toddler in the world. I was sweaty, hot, tired and my feet were swollen by the time I reached home but it was a well spent 4th of July holiday.

By Saturday night I'd ordered another cell phone. A fairly basic Nokia flip phone that I got for under 60€ and I'd planned on going to buy another SIM card come Monday morning. Sunday afternoon, just on a whim, I called my cell number again just to see if someone would answer and that's when I heard my handbag ring. I found the phone wedged under one of the inner pockets of my bag. Uhhh honey! About that phone we ordered for me...

It's red. And I like it way better than that crap Sony I lost and then found.

Friday Shuffle - Lifesize and Orange Edition

2009-07-03T22:21:00.004+02:00

I'm sure I've mentioned a ~~couple~~ seventy-jillion times that I absolutely dig Abraham Lincoln. While he was flawed and did some things during his life and during his presidency that could and did raise eyebrows, he was a master politician and accomplished the feat of preserving the union. We think the United States is polarized now? At least half of us hasn't broken off and declared itself to be a sovereign nation.

And macabre as it is, Abraham Lincoln also had a...well...an interesting death. Of course I believe it was a terrible tragedy for his family and for the nation because who knows how far back his death set back the south (Welcome to Revenge! I mean, Reconstruction!) but I'm pretty good at compartmentalizing and I can look at the assassination of Lincoln on its own. It fascinates me no end and always will.

Abraham Lincoln during his life was intelligent, determined, witty, eloquent, compassionate and a brilliant politician. However there was one thing he wasn't - Lincoln was never a giant block of Wisconsin cheddar cheese. At least he wasn't until today:

My friend, Mary Ann, who knows of my love of all things presidential and my special fascination with Lincoln pointed me yesterday to an article in the Washington Post that said a sculpture of Lincoln made entirely of cheddar cheese would be on display in Washington on, I believe, Constitution Avenue. For just three hours because cheese in Washington in July gets pretty skanky pretty fast and this cheese would later be divided up and given away. It was then that I began to lament that I no longer lived outside of DC and could not go see the Abe-as-Commander-in-Cheese sculpture. But I happen to have amazing friends. One of my amazing friends, Lorrie, who is so thoughtful and generous and who also is fortunate enough to live in DC, took a bit of time this afternoon to go see this (literally) cheesy sculpture and get me a few photos. Tell me that's not a great friend.

One time of year that I get homesick is when the 4th of July rolls around. The 4th is one of my favorite holidays. I dig all those parades and picnics and I really love the fireworks. I love my country. I may live abroad but I will never forget that I am an American and I am grateful for all that my country has provided me. Even presidents in cheddar.

On to the shuffle.

Reflections - Diana Ross & The Supremes
To Be Young (Is To Be Sad, Is To Be High) - Ryan Adams
Bright Young Thing - Albert Hammond, Jr.
Creep - Radiohead
Panic Switch - Silversun Pickups
Two Halves - My Morning Jacket
Angel - Adam Ant
All Over You - Live
Daughter - Loudon Wainwright III
Swoon - Maria Doyle Kennedy

Friday Shuffle - Already Said My Goodbyes Edition

2009-06-26T21:16:00.003+02:00

Like many of you I've been watching a lot of coverage of the death of Michael Jackson. I was shocked but not particularly surprised. Actually it would have been surprising for Michael Jackson to not die before becoming an old man. I don't think many could really feature a seventy-five year-old Michael Jackson.

I loved the Jackson 5 starting back when I was just a little kid. I loved Michael when he released Off the Wall and I thought Thriller was brilliant. And it's at that point where I stop. To me his subsequent music didn't have the same quality. Every song seemed to be filled with that hiccupy phrasing he used and all those annoying "Heehee!"s he'd throw in. Each album would be just a pale copy of the last pale copy. After Thriller I never spent another penny on his music except to replace in CD or MP3 what I'd lost in vinyl. Michael Jackson stopped being relevant to me sometime in 1984.

So when I heard that Michael Jackson had passed I didn't have the reaction that I'd miss him or his music. I have his music - the music he made that mattered to me. And the Michael Jackson I grew up with and loved faded from view about twenty-five years ago. I'd already lost an icon of my youth back in my youth.

I'm not sure what to think of the post-Thriller Michael. The duality of his personality is hard for me to understand. He seems to have been used by his family and yet remained close to them. He talked about how he didn't have a normal childhood but didn't seem to be letting his own children have a normal one either. He was known for being a kindhearted man who was compassionate and caring and yet he was accused of doing heinous things to young kids. If what he was accused of doing is true then it's repugnant and yet he truly didn't seem to get that anything he did was wrong. I don't mean that he was deep-down evil or he didn't care about consequences. I mean he just didn't get it. He just didn't seem to get what the real world was like. I have pity for the man while at the same time I have irritation at him.

I'm sorry for those fans of Michael Jackson who are mourning now. I'm sorry for his family and I'm sorry for his friends who will miss him. I wish I could feel sadder about this but I don't. I suppose it's because I did my mourning decades ago and the Michael Jackson who passed yesterday was a stranger to me.

Let's shuffle.

Heavy Cross - Gossip
Guitar Town - Steve Earle
You Never Know - Wilco
Her Diamonds - Rob Thomas
Sundown - Gordon Lightfoot
Constructive Summer - The Hold Steady
Golden Skans - Klaxons
This Ole House - Bette Midler
Leaving On A Jet Plane - Peter, Paul & Mary
Somebody To Love - Queen

Buyer's Remorse

2009-06-24T22:46:00.003+02:00

I've been wearing glasses since I was ten years old. There was a good twenty-five years where I wore contact lenses almost exclusively but since age caught up with me and I had to switch to bifocals I stopped wearing them except in a few instance when I didn't want to wear glasses and I knew I wouldn't have to read anything. Therefore it goes without saying that in the past thirty-seven years I've purchased my fair share of eyeglasses. And every single time it's a nightmare that leaves me feeling slightly sick afterwards.

My current pair of glasses is a pair that I don't like. I've never been very crazy about how they feel on me and so I don't wear them often. I have a cheap pair of glasses that are more comfortable but I don't see particularly well with them. It was time for me to get a new pair so off I went to the optician.

I tend to buy glasses that run to the conservative side of style. Classic, as the optician likes to call it. Now that I've resigned myself to wearing glasses full time I decided that I would break out a bit and get a pair that would be a little more stylish. More chic. More trendy. Less old lady. I go to the same optician and the same guy helps me each time. I told him that I was looking to get glasses that would be a bit different than my current pair and yet not make me look like an idiot. Heavy plastic frames, intense colors and off-beat shapes are great for some but I am not that some. Regardless of the years I've spent wearing glasses, I don't like them. I have never really felt comfortable in them and I don't think I'm really suited to wearing glasses. I don't have a glasses face. And I can count on one hand how many pair I've had that I have really liked. Actually I can count them on one finger.

I tried on at least a dozen pair of glasses. Some were on the flashy side and I immediately rejected them. Some were of the style I already have and while I was tempted to wimp out and get them I really wanted to get a more updated look. There was a pair that I'd tried on about four or five pair into the process that were good. I kept looking but I returned to them again and again, trying them on over and over to make sure that I could live with them. The legs are plastic and a bit wider than I've ever worn. And they're black. Not super black. Light black, if such a thing exists. The lenses are rectangular but not severely so and the frame around the lenses (they're rimless on the bottom) is a nice blue-gray. They're cute. They add some color and interest to my face. I think.

So I bought them. And while the frames were on sale (I got a third off) the lenses certainly weren't. Know what's the worst part about having to go to bifocal lenses? It's not the fact that it means you're getting older. It's the fact that bifocal lenses cost a king's ransom. I don't like to buy cheap lenses (the ones in my cheap spare pair are crap lenses and it definitely makes a difference in how well I see) but when all the elements get added up I still go into a state of shock. Buying a car doesn't send me into a fit like getting the total cost on a pair of bifocal glasses. The last time I went into such a state of shock was when I bought a four bedroom house.

Now I'm back home and now is when the doubt begins. Are those glasses really that cute? Maybe I was just settling. Maybe I think they're cute but others will see it and think I've lost my mind. And did I make the right decision on the lenses? Maybe I would see just as well if I'd gotten the middle grade lenses and would have saved a hundred bucks. And did I do the vision test right? All that "Is this better? This? Number one or number two?". All that pressure to pick! Did I involuntarily squint while reading the bottom line and didn't realize it? I've just bought a pair of glasses that cost me more than a month's rent and my monthly utilities combined. Have I done the right thing?

Tell you what. The glasses will be ready in about 2 1/2 weeks. If when I get them I feel brave enough to take a picture of myself so you can see them and you think they're terrible, do me a favor. Lie. Or at least break it to me gently because I'm going to be stuck with them for a few years.

Friday Shuffle - Music from Unexpected Sources Edition

2009-06-19T22:20:00.003+02:00

I'd planned on letting y'all in on what I've been doing for the past three weeks but since it's Friday let's just stick to a musical theme. I'll bear my soul next week.

I live smack in the middle of the city and my flat is very close to the university. It's the tradition here that when someone earns their doctorate degree that the person being honored rides on a barrel being pulled on a wagon while someone beats a drum and the honoree's friends parade along behind. We hear the drum beating fairly often and when we do either I or B will comment to the other, "There's a new doctor in town!".

When I heard the drum beats today I noticed that they were just a bit too rhythmic to be a regular new doctor's parade and there were some definite sounds of brass instruments being played so I tugged on some shoes, grabbed my camera and went outside to investigate and found this:

It was a jazz band from the Sax'n Anhalt music school (the state I live in is Sachsen-Anhalt so you can appreciate the play on the spelling) out across the street from my flat. They were out in front of a cabaret - I don't know if they were hired by the cabaret or it was just providence that brought them there but they were excellent. I sat there on a bench across the street from them as they played to the gathered crowd. They'd walk around the people as they played and get down on the level with the little kids and everyone loved them. I sat with my downstairs neighbor and her two little girls and watched the kids dance. Know what's so great about living in the middle of the city? A mini jazz concert can break out at any time.

My other tale of music today took me back in time about thirty-five years. A few years ago I wrote about elementary school and the fantastic music teacher we had who taught a bunch of kids to sing everything from Peter, Paul and Mary to the Cowsills to Manfred Mann to the music of Jesus Christ Superstar and Fiddler on the Roof. A few of us who went to school together have found one another again on Facebook and joined a group for those who attended our elementary school. Naturally a big part of the conversation within that group has centered on our beloved music teacher and she found us again as well and joined us. Those of us she taught were anxious to friend her and on her Facebook wall are lots of messages from folks who remember her fondly. Virtually every one of them thanks her for making music into something that has stayed an important part of their lives. Mrs. A is 70 years old now, lives in New England and still plays piano in a hotel lounge on weekends. She reports that many of those songs she taught us are part of her play list and the patrons often tell her they have their own fond memories of those tunes.

Our elemenary school choruses made a couple albums and I remember we were so proud of them. I'd lost mine years ago - in fact the hundreds of vinyl albums I had are gone forever...don't ask - but my old friend, Elaine, wrote to me and said she still had hers and she'd put the parts our class' chorus sang on CD for me. It arrived today and I played it immediately. Some of the songs I ddin't remember especially well but some are so burned into my brain that I could sing along with them without missing a word even though I haven't heard those songs in thirty years. The performances didn't sound perfect - the record was recored in the school's cafeteria so you can imagine what the acoustics were like - and there were all sorts of notes we didn't quite reach. I laughed at how crummy we sounded sometimes but we really weren't all that bad. And for what we may have lacked in pitch sometimes we made up for in enthusiasm. I remember that making these records was one of the highlights of our elementary school years and rehearing them now brings back memories I forgot I had.

Time to shuffle.

Clerkenwell Polka - Madness
Over It - Dinosaur Jr.
Relax - Frankie Goes to Hollywood
Rock Lobster - The B-52's
Heavy Cross - Gossip
For Emma - Bon Iver
Tiger Mountain Peasant Song - Fleet Foxes
One Day Like This - Elbow
Summertime Blues - Alan Jackson
Loreley - Blackmore's Night

Resurfacing

2009-06-17T22:24:00.002+02:00

I considered seeing if I could go three weeks without a blog entry but decided against it.

I'm fine here. Better than I've been in a while actually. I'll give you more details later - probably Friday - but for now I'll tell you that I've been spending the past few weeks trying to break a lot of old habits that have been holding me back. I've spend too much time doing what wasn't working for me and now I'm trying to refocus on what will work. And trying to use as many pretentious words like "refocus" as I can.

Now I must go eat a kiwi.

Friday Shuffle - Swing and Sway Edition

2009-05-29T22:34:00.005+02:00

Oops! You caught me. I was absolutely not paying attention and didn't realize how late in the evening it is. Y'all were expecting a shuffle and I was busy listening out the window to the folks on the street coming from the beer tent that's set up at the end of our block. That only means one thing - it's Pentecost weekend and that means it's Magdeburg's annual Stadtfest - city festival.

I look forward to Stadtfest every year. It's a bit like the Christmas market without all the Christmassy thing so it satisfies me until the actual Christmas market opens. There are shows on various stages spread around the downtown area where I live. There are rides and sale stands and of course lots and lots of yummy food that you probably shouldn't eat but do anyway because it's a festival, dang it all! I believe the root of the word "festival" is Latin and means "eat lots o' crap". And of course the Stadtfest wouldn't be complete without the beer tent - an enormous tent set up with tables and benches where folks gather to drink beer, eat more junk and listen to an enormous amount of German Volksmusik from a band from Bavaria. Music that's so hokey and ridiculous sounding when you first enter the tent but becomes fabulous and you find yourself clapping along or linking arms and swaying with your seatmates as you drink more and more beer. For years the beer tent's location would change. Some years it was down near the cathedral. Some years it was down by the river. Finally they figured out where it worked best and as luck would have it, the place it works best is at the end of my block. Just a few hundred meters walk and I'm there. Even better, just a few hundred meters walk and I'm back home to a clean bathroom.

How much one enjoys the Stadtfest depends a lot on how the weather is. The worst thunderstorm I've ever seen since I've lived here occurred when I was at the Stadtfest. One minute it was a warm, muggy late afternoon and the next minute the winds howled, the clouds puked rain and I was in fear of being electrocuted or having a tree limb whack me on the head. Three years ago when my sister and her family were visiting it was dreadfully damp and much too cool. It didn't slow us down any though. We hung out in the beer tent and drank and sang and laughed. It was the year when the band played "My Way" and my sister gave us a stunning (read: drunken) vocal interpretation of that song. I wish my sister remembered it because it's burned into my brain. I've never seen her so uninhibited but that's what happens when you're a little plowed and you're in a country where you don't live.

It's supposed to be somewhat warm this weekend - in the upper 60's - and hopefully not rainy so we're planning on getting Burkhard outside and down the street to the Stadtfest. We'll weave our way through the crowds, maybe watch a stage show or two, get some junk to eat and then we'll make our way to the beer tent. 'Cause it just ain't Stadtfest unless you hear the music.

Speaking of - let's shuffle.

Hungry Heart - Bruce Springsteen
Hidden Shame - Elvis Costello
Kiss And Tell - Alexander Rybak
That Look You Give That Guy - Eels
Build Me Up Buttercup - The Foundations
C'mon C'mon - Von Bondies
For What It's Worth - Placebo
Come And Get Your Love - Redbone
Cruel To Be Kind - Nick Lowe
She's A Rainbow - The Rolling Stones

First Day of Many

2009-05-27T22:21:00.003+02:00

Yesterday was one of those days you dread - the first of the season, in fact. Those days when it's too warm and too muggy and you're praying for a thunderstorm to come along and wash everything clean. We had storms predicted for our area and I was anxious for one to conjure itself up and give us some relief.

I'd just cleaned a winter's worth of grime from the plastic chairs that sit on my balcony - a necessity since I was wearing white slacks. I took the current book I'm reading, When Will There Be Good News? by Kate Atkinson, outside with me to sit for a spell.

Outside the air was thick with humidity despite the strong breeze that was blowing. My hair was pinned up at the back of my head. Loose tendrils of hair snaked around my neck, sweat slicked and sticking to my skin. I was barefoot and I propped up my feet on another chair.

I'd brought a cocktail with me. Not much of one - just a glass crammed with ice and two fingers of Martini Bianco and then filled to the top with Sprite Zero. A bit sweet but I told myself the lemony flavor would be refreshing and therefore displace some of the sweetness. The glass stood sweating on a flower cart and occasionally I'd have to fan away a bee before taking a drink. Tipsy bees.

Below me on the street I could hear the fountains gushing and the occasional sounds of splashing and laughing from little ones as they walked by and were unable to resist dipping their hands in. I had on sunglasses but they weren't very necessary. The sun would blaze and then duck behind thick, gray clouds and back out again. The breeze pushed the clouds farther and farther to the east but as of yet wouldn't build up to be a proper raincloud.

So I sat. And I read. I'd squint when the sun would catch the corner of my eye and I'd be happy when a strong breeze would cool the sweat on my neck. And I waited for the thunderstorm that never came.

Friday Shuffle - Not What I Expected Edition

2009-05-22T22:56:00.003+02:00

I was up to my elbows in taking a grilled chicken off the bone. It's a job that fairly grosses me out and I try not to think of what exactly I'm doing less I lose my appetite for chicken completely. Anyway, there I was with my hands covered in chicken grease, seasoning from the chicken beneath my nails, fairly nauseated from performing this rather disgusting task when I could hear B holler from the living room something that sounded like "fire" and "Fernseher" - the German word for television.

There were a couple things that caught my attention immediately. B nearly never mixes English and German words together in the same sentence - I'm the one that pulls that stunt. Second, B was hollering pretty loud which is very seldom. He has little control over his diaphragm so yelling is very difficult for him and he saves it for emergencies only. It can literally exhaust him to scream. The whole combination of yelling and mixing languages and of course hearing the word "fire" told me that I had to move and right now. As fast as I could I scurried from the kitchen to the living room to see the flames I'd find shooting from the television we've had for three weeks.

No flames. Just the regional news.

"What's going on?"

"I told you. Freya's on TV. Look! There she is again."

I stood there with grease coated hands and watched Freya tell the reporter why she as a young person wanted to run for political office now. Freya is the 22 year old daughter of our friend Kirsten and Freya is running for city council. She's been involved with the CDU political party for a few years now and this is her first time running for office. Anyway, when the report was over I turned to B and said "You know you really scared the daylights out of me! I thought the TV was on fire!"

"No, no! I was saying Freya was on the Fernseher."

"And you know what I was thinking when I was rushing in here thinking the TV was on fire? Not that you were in danger or that the TV was only three weeks old. I wasn't even thinking that it likely wouldn't be possible for the sound to be on the TV. I'm actually embarrassed to tell you what I was thinking as I ran in here."

"What?"

"All I could think was 'I'm going to ruin the TV touching it with my chicken grease covered hands'."

"We all have our priorities."

Time to shuffle.

Words Of Love - The Beatles
Night By Night - Michael Stanley Band
Katherine Hit Me - Franz Ferdinand
Hard To Beat - Hard-Fi
Burnin' For You - Blue Öyster Cult
I Was Zapped By The Lucky Super Rainbow - The Flaming Lips
Your Rocky Spine - Great Lake Swimmers
The Loving - XTC
Hey Now - Tenfold Loadstar
The Lark Ascending - Sir Adrian Boult, Hugh Bean & New Philharmonia Orchestra

Friday Shuffle - Who Needs a Calendar? Edition

2009-05-15T22:54:00.003+02:00

Hmmmm. Nearly forgot to write today as all day I've thought it was Saturday. B and I tend to live on a pretty regular schedule so when anything pops up to throw off that schedule, I'm hopeless to remember what day of the week it is. Have an unexpected appointment crop up or cancel a weekly event and I'm screwed. All day yesterday I thought it was Tuesday and all day today I've thought it was Saturday. Even flipped on the TV mid-afternoon to watch the soccer matches. It's not going to get any better next week either since the doctor's appointment we normally have every fourth Thursday will be on Tuesday instead and Thursday is a holiday here so I'm sure that day I'll think it's Sunday.

And that, my friends, is what's passing this week as current events.

You shuffle. I'm going to go have a Magnum bar. Ice cream doesn't care what day it is.

Peeled Apples - Manic Street Preachers
Spaceman - The Killers
Baby I'm A Fool - Melody Gardot
Gracie - Ben Folds
Sadness Soot - Grant-Lee Phillips
Silent Sigh - Badly Drawn Boy
See No Evil - Television
Everybody Loves You Now - Billy Joel
Pictures Of Lily - The Who
There Goes My Heart - The Mavericks

I'd Never Left But Now I'm Back

2009-05-11T23:10:00.002+02:00

I do apologize for being out of pocket for as long as I was without leaving word. It was just one of those things that sort of happens. I would plan to write a blog entry and then get caught up in other stuff and when I again had the thought to write it would be too late in the evening. The same sort of thing happens when I should call my mother - lots of good intentions but an equal amount of falling down on the job.

Let's get y'all caught up on the goings on in this joint.

Wheelchair - The saga seems to have finally come to an end. Naturally we had to call the medical supply company to get someone to pick up the chair and the lady B spoke with said she couldn't find a record of his old push wheelchair. Not surprising since he got it in about 1992. The lady said she'd call back after she found the record. The next day when I wasn't home B got a call from a guy who was a salesman for that company for many years and who B used to have all his dealings with. The guy called to say that he saw an order for the company to pick up his electric wheelchair. Egad! Do these people get anything correct? B told him of the screw up (this guy is now some sort of middle manage for the medical supply company) and the guy said he'd expedite an order to pick up the old push chair. And they did. Of course they didn't pick it up before the salvage company canceled two other appointments with us but it's now gone. And Middle Management Guy that B knows wants to come over for coffee and a chat. Believe me fella - it's going to be some chat.

Television - We got a new one. B has been wanting a new TV for over a year now and he'd been doing research online since before Christmas to find the right TV for us. When the new line of Sonys came out in Germany in April, B could not wait. Our local electronics stores didn't have them yet and when they did, it was my job to go down and buy one. I am the sort of customer salespeople love. I don't want a demonstration, I don't want you to tell me about the features. Just write me up a sales ticket, schedule delivery, let me pay and you can start counting your commission. I scheduled a delivery for the next day - sometime after 2:00pm. When it wasn't delivered by 6:15pm B started to panic a bit and called the store. They said they deliver until the store closes at 8:00pm and our TV was definitely on the truck. When it got to be 7:50pm the panic started again and once again the store assured us that we'd get our TV that day. The delivery guy arrived about 8:30pm and about had a stroke when he saw that he was by himself and would have to haul out our 100 pound old TV on his own. The salesman neglected to say on the delivery request that we had a big-ass TV even though I specifically told him we had a big-ass TV. Still the delivery guy got the old TV removed, the new one set up and even though he wasn't required to do anything more than plug in the TV and see that it came on, he hooked it up to our pay TV decoder box and our DVR. Even figured out why it wouldn't get sound through our pay TV service. The guy spent an hour messing around with it and absolutely earned every single cent of the nice tip I gave him. And B called the shop the next day to praise the delivery guy and the nice lady who was very patient with us when we called in a panic. Yay Saturn in Magdeburg! You're rock-a-licious!

And the television? Top quality. Both B and I have been staring at it like a couple goobers saying repeatedly "Look at that picture. Would you look at that picture? It's fantastic!"

Birthday - B celebrated his 50th birthday on Saturday. He's having a little trouble believing he's 50 years old because it just sounds so old so I take that opportunity to remind him that there was a time, his 25th birthday specifically, when people, himself included, thought it would be his last birthday on this earth. We had a nice party for him. Friends and family came over for cake and coffee in the afternoon which soon changed to drinks and dinner and then drinks and snacks. Lots of Jägermeister and beer was consumed but I limited myself to one glass of champagne. I don't do well being a hostess when I'm toasted on Jägermeister. The next day B's aunt and uncle came for coffee and cake which just stayed coffee and cake. They also brought with them some photographs B's uncle recently found and scanned. Some were of B from when he was about 5 years old and there were some from about 1974. At that time B was in the midst of growing his hair long and in the photos it was at the length where it made B look like Prince Valiant. It cracked me up to see them but it also choked me up a bit. Seeing B standing or holding something in his hand is something I've never seen him do and seeing it in a photo gets me a bit emotional.

And The Rest - Friends of ours gave B a beautiful orchid plant for his birthday. Shall we now take bets on how long it'll be before I cause its untimely death? I drove my MIL home this afternoon and noticed that sometime between Saturday afternoon and this afternoon somone had taken a nail or key and had scratched down the length of my car from 2/3 of the length of the passenger door to the tail light. I shit you not - if I ever found who did that I'd snatch his balls off like a paper towel. And finally, it's just now after midnight. My windows are open. And for some reason it smells like schnitzel and French fries outside.

Good grief. How could I have gone over 2 weeks without filling you in on tidbits like that?

Yikes!

2009-05-10T23:26:00.002+02:00

No posts in over two weeks! A record for me.

I apologize to any of you who got worried while I was out of pocket and I'm grateful for your concern. All is fine here. I did have a week of B being sick and then there was a week of getting ready for B's 50th birthday party. Add on top of it all that I honestly didn't have anything to write about that didn't sound like a laundry list of things to bitch about. While sharing the ups and downs with y'all is important, constant whining isn't and I don't want to be one of those who only writes when there's something going wrong.

How 'bout tomorrow I get y'all caught up with things in the Peach household?

Friday Shuffle - 800 Years Edition

2009-04-24T23:27:00.004+02:00

I love Magdeburg's cathedral. It sits in the middle of the city and Magdeburg is so flat that regardless of what direction you enter the city you can see it.

Today at the cathedral was the beginning of months of scheduled celebrations to commemorate the 800th anniversary of the laying of its cornerstone. On the same spot was originally an abbey built of wood which later became the city's cathedral but it was destroyed in a fire in 1207. Two years later in 1209 they began to rebuild the cathedral and it took about 300 years to complete.

In the summer when it's horribly hot outside it's lovely to go into the cathedral. The walls are all thick stone and it's always cool inside and I always feel comforted when I'm there, regardless of the time of year. There's a new pipe organ - the original had been completely destroyed during the 1945 bombing of Magdeburg - that's absolutely gorgeous. The baptismal font is huge - I understand it likely was originally to be a fountain or was a fountain - and is said to be thousands of years old. In one corner of the cathedral is an Ehrenmal - an honor memorial - that depicts the sadness and misery of war and candles for peace are lit at its base. The graves of Holy Roman Emperor Otto I and his first wife, Editha are there. And one of my favorite things at the cathedral is outside of the north entrance to the transept - the sculptures of the ten virgins from the Bible - five wise virgins who are smiling and happy because they brought their lamp oil to the wedding and five foolish virgins who are miserable and crying because they didn't bring their oil and have to miss the wedding feast. Their expressions are so compelling and I could study them for hours.

Over the centuries the cathedral has seen many changes and uses. Originally it was a Catholic cathedral but years after Martin Luther preached at other churches in Magdeburg, the priests at the cathedral coverted to Protestantism and it's still a Protestant cathedral. During the Thirty Years War the virtually only survivors of the slaughter of Magdeburg in 1631 were the the 4000 people who hid out in the cathedral and survived because the head priest of the cathedral, on his knees, begged General Tilly for the people to be spared. For a while the cathedral was used as a fortress and even for a time as a horse barn and sheep pen. It's been looted, had all it's windows smashed, been bombed and caught on fire, but 800 years after its construction began, it's still there. The renovation and repair of the cathedral is almost unending. I moved to Magdeburg in late 1997 and it wasn't until a couple months ago that I had ever seen the cathedral without one or the other of its towers covered in scaffolding.

And its bells. They're named Susanne, Apostolica and Dominica. I love their voices and if I happen to be close enough at noontime to hear them ring I pause what I'm doing until they stop.

During the time that Magdeburg was part of East Germany, most people here weren't religious but it never stopped the cathedral from being the heart of the city. It was a natural meeting place for folks to gather in 1989 to begin the Monday protest marches that were so instrumental in the demise of communism in East Germany. I think for a lot of people in Magdeburg the cathedral is their favorite building in the city and when they've been away for a while they get a feeling of being home again when they can see its towers in the distance. Even when I am in my flat I like to stand out on my balcony and look southward and see the cathedral. It gives me a feeling of being home even though my home is really thousands of miles away.

Let's shuffle.

Here In The Real World - Alan Jackson
Morning Star - Blackmore's Night
There Are No Goodbyes - Sophia
I Want You Now - The Feeling
I Wanna - The All-American Rejects
Spring Released - Grant-Lee Phillips
In The Mood - Glenn Miller Orchestra
Cecilia - Simon & Garfunkel
You Wanted More - Tonic
Spanish Flea - Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass

Have a great weekend. Go somewhere you love to be.

After Having Watched a News Piece About Asparagus Season

2009-04-21T21:48:00.002+02:00

B: Did you know that if you can asparagus while you're having your period, the asparagus will go bad?

Me: Where did you get that idea?

Everyone knows that. Everyone I know.

That's nothing but an old wives' tale or something. How in the world would having your period make the canning go bad? How would the asparagus know something like that? It's asparagus.

I don't know, but it does. When you touch the asparagus or something. Your chemistry or something makes it go bad. It'll be spoiled.

That sounds ridiculous. Who would believe something like that? That menstruation would make canning go bad?

Just canning asparagus. But it's true. Ask my mom.

You want me to ask your mother? The same woman who went to the village witch to make the warts on her fingers go away?

And it worked! She went to the witch and then her warts disappeared! Everyone went to the village witch to have their skin problems cured!

Well then. There you go.

Friday Shuffle - You're the Greatest! Edition

2009-04-17T23:02:00.004+02:00

I love you people. I love that you still show up here to read my meager offerings even when I start to blather on about the same topics over and over. You're awesomely awesome.

I figured I'd give y'all the love early because I've not got much else to offer. The wheelchair delivery was the high point. Oh. And that little stabilizing wheel the driver said was not there? Upon getting down and giving the wheelchair a better look-see I found the stabilizing wheel was right where it was supposed to be. Stupid, stupid delivery driver. And still no call to pick up the old chair. I'm really considering squeezing it into my Starlet over the weekend and leaving it in their parking lot.

Enough whining. If I don't stop now I'll start up on how I've got a sneaking suspicion that my MIL's birthday party on Saturday evening is going to turn into a cluster fuck. Don't get me started on that.

Better shuffle while I've got the opportunity.

Whiskey In The Jar - Metallica
Middle Man - The Bottle Rockets
A Matter Of Trust - Billy Joel
Hold On, Hold On - Neko Case
Southern Manners - The Watson Twins
Riot In Cell Block Number Nine - Wanda Jackson
Operator (That's Not The Way It Feels) - Jim Croce
Racing In The Street - Bruce Springsteen
Hell In A Bucket - Grateful Dead
Black Dog - Led Zeppelin

Immediate Seating Available

2009-04-15T23:00:00.003+02:00

B's new push wheelchair has arrived! I should be thrilled except they didn't bring two parts that belong to the chair and they didn't take away the old push wheelchair. I am never going to be shed of these people!

The delivery guy - someone who is not in danger of being named Mr. Congeniality anytime soon - wouldn't take away the old wheelchair because he "didn't have enough room" in his truck. Hell, in my world it looks like he lightened his load one wheelchair's worth when he came to my flat and therefore had enough room to take away the old one but what do I know? The driver is supposed to have his office call to make an appointment to come fetch the old chair. Shall I start taking bets on how long it'll be before we get that phone call?

In the meantime I'll have plenty to do with learning how to take apart and reassemble the new chair. Cross your fingers that I don't end up pinching mine.

I'm Taking Bets

2009-04-14T22:08:00.003+02:00

The medical supply company called this morning to say that B's push wheelchair will be delivered tomorrow between noon and 4:00pm. Think it'll happen? Think it'll happen during the time they said it would? Think it'll be the correct wheelchair? I have my doubts about it all. It's pretty sad to be doing business with a company that inspires no confidence whatsoever.

Friday Shuffle - In the Biblical Way Edition

2009-04-10T22:10:00.003+02:00

So far today I've watched on TV Spartacus, Ben-Hur and now I'm watching The Ten Commandments. If before Easter is over I can manage to catch a viewing of The Robe, King of Kings (distracting because in this one Jesus is kinda hot) and The Greatest Story Ever Told (who doesn't love a Swedish Jesus?), I'll have hit all the holy highlights.

In the meantime, let's shuffle.

Does Your Mother Know - ABBA
Said & Done - Kilians
She's Rather Be With Me - The Turtles
Beware Your Only Friend - Bonnie "Prince" Billy
Corduroy - Pearl Jam
Love Is Everywhere I Go - Sam Phillips
Chick Habit - April March
Radio Nowhere - Bruce Springsteen
Lil' Jack Slade - Dixie Chicks
Long Cool Woman - The Hollies

Have a great weekend. Get out and enjoy the spring. Score half-price chocolate bunnies on Monday.

Complaining Just to Complain

2009-04-08T21:33:00.003+02:00

If you have to do something, you may as well enjoy it, right? That makes sense to me but regardless of how much I try, I can't like grocery shopping. It's boring. Pick up food, throw it in your cart, pick up food, throw it on the check out conveyor belt, pick up food, throw it back in your cart, wheel cart to your car, pick up food, throw it into your car. How delicious or decadent or how much I'm looking forward to eating the food does not negate the fact that getting the food and buying it is one dull-ass chore. I try to make the process go as smoothly and quickly as possible because I want to get the hell out of there and back home where I can engage in the second most boring chore - putting all the crap I bought away.

I go to the same grocery store week after week and I know where everything I buy is located. I may not be able to tell you where to find the capers and the olives because I never buy them (I'm guessing they're somewhere together) but by golly, I can go in that store and put my hands on tomato paste and bell peppers and butter and tea within moments because I buy them every week. If you get the hell out of my way, I can be in and out with a full cart of groceries in fifteen minutes, tops. Unfortunately no one is getting the hell out of my way.

Men are the worst culprits for slowing me down and the older they are, the worse they are. My husband would protest this and say that he would not be a grocery shopping albatross around my neck but he's wrong. They may vary in degrees of delaying me but they all delay me. Men are the worst for doing things like stopping their cart in the front of an aisle so that no one can get in or out and randomly staring into space. They have no idea about what brand they want to buy and if they're with their wives, they have to strike up an argument every aisle as they debate whether to buy this or that brand. I want to yank from them whatever it is they have in their hands, throw it in the cart and push them the hell out of the way. I mean if these people debate this much over which jar of instant coffee to buy, what must they be like when it comes to a real decision like when to have children or what car to buy?

I understand that people cannot help but bring their kids to the grocery store and of course kids are just going to be kids so I don't blame them for slowing me down but who I do blame are parents who: A: won't keep their kids from running up and down the aisles while they're off on another aisle arguing with each other about that jar of instant coffee and B: let their young kids push the cart. I understand, little one, that you're likely bored - believe me, I get that grocery shopping is boring - and you just want to help but Junior, if you bang that cart into my hip one more time I've gonna have to liven up your day by having you witness me beating your mother to a pulp because it's her that I'm holding responsible for my bruised hip.

God love old folks. Some of them walk slowly and they have trouble reading labels or reaching high shelves. I happily help them if I can. I would never wish to be disrespectful to them because, goodness knows, one day I'll be old as well and I'll be taking extra time to do my shopping. However, can they not do their grocery shopping during the less busy hours? Why do old folks wait until 5pm to shop - the time when folks who are tied up with work responsibilities can do their shopping? And it's not just a few here and there. I was at the grocery store today - I got there at 4:30pm and there were hordes of old folks! What were they doing all day that they had to pick that time to shop?

As you can likely tell I was grocery shopping late this afternoon. And I would have gone earlier in the day myself except that today is my MIL's birthday and between celebrating that and various other appointments today I wasn't able to leave B alone until after 4pm. Normally I just roll a dreaded trip to the store right off my back but since holidays are looming (Good Friday and Easter Sunday and Monday) and shops in Germany are closed on holidays, it was extra annoying. Extra men. Extra kids with lazy parents. Extra old folks. I should get extra credit because I was extra patient.

And I picked up some cheese to go with my whine.

Friday Shuffle - Diverted Edition

2009-04-03T22:43:00.004+02:00

I'm not the first to have noticed it. Recently Angela and Poppy have mentioned their noticing a decline in blogging popularity for the immediacy of Twitter and Facebook. And I'll admit that over the past few months I've found myself writing tweets and giving status updates on Facebook. Well, not so much tweet writing. I never did cotton to Twitter all that well. Facebook, however, is a whole different story. It's not so much my need to update folks on what I'm doing at that moment as much as my need to play those dopey games. I have a definite need to gather my folks and fight other Mafia crews in Mafia Wars, harvest and sell my crops on Farm Town and redecorate my flat in YoVille. It's the one flat I live in that's not grimy with dust. And those quizzes. What Greek God Are You? (Apollo) What Shakespearean Character Are You? (Viola) What TV-Sitcom Mom Are You? (Carol Brady. I was so disappointed with that!) What Swear Word Are You? (Shit) When B took that same quiz his result was "crap". That struck me as hilarious because it's dead-on accurate. He's a little bad, just not too bad. In reality I don't care what the results of these quizzes are but I take them compulsively just to satisfy my curiosity. At any rate - when I'm not here writing blog entries like I should be you can guess that I'm over there getting updated as to what my friends around the world are up to, catching up with folks I haven't seen since I graduated from high school nearly twenty-nine years ago (that may be one of the best parts of Facebook), tending to my farm, blackmailing cops, buying yet another rug and finding out what Gone With the Wind character I am. But don't give up on me completely. I'm not closing up shop here. And go read Angela's and Poppy's stuff as well. It's worth the detour.

I haven't made the complete plunge into the virtual life world just yet. On Thursday I had a human, face-to-face lunch with my new speaks-English-and-actually-lives-in-Magdeburg friend, Kerry. Fun, fun, fun. I'm a sucker for going out to lunch anyway and it's even better when it's with someone who is so enjoyable to talk with you have to keep checking your watch, not out of boredom but out of precaution - else you'll completely forget about time and she'll have kids abandoned at the Kindergarten and I'll have a husband at home dying for a simple drink of water. Really - Kerry is just lovely. She's got a terrific, friendly smile and she exudes this sort of confidence and ease that is very charming. And she loves to read. That thrilled me no end. Now I have someone with whom to share books with.

But no one tell her that the Gone With the Wind character I am most like is Scarlett O'Hara, okay?

Regardless of how much I Facebook and Twitter, the Friday Shuffle is an exclusive of my blog. Let's hit it.

Stranglehold - Ted Nugent
Kingdom Of Rust - Doves
Welcome To The Fold - Filter
The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song - The Flaming Lips
1969 Again - Adam Ant
Mad About You - Belinda Carlisle
You Just May Be The One - The Monkees
Middle Cyclone - Neko Case
Where Is My Mind? - Pixies
Bicycle Race - Queen

Friday Shuffle - Wrap It Up Edition

2009-03-27T21:58:00.003+01:00

I can't think about that stupid wheelchair fiasco another day so until they call to have it delivered, I'm putting it out of my mind. Instead, let's just consider the rather unimportant and infinitely more pleasant things to think about.

I'm looking forward to turning the clocks an hour forward this weekend. Not only do I need the extra hours of daylight but my flat needs it as well. We're going to finally get a genuine spring day and I'm going to find an amazing amount of dust I've overlooked for months. I'm at the point where I'm all giddy to start the really gritty parts of spring cleaning. Shame that the giddy feeling won't last until I actually do the cleaning.

My husband bought me a surprise today. It should be delivered tomorrow. He has the crappy week and I get the gift. Tell me I didn't luck out in the spouse department.

Here's what I'm currently knitting:

That's the stitch detail of the leg of a sock I'm knitting. Best part of it? It's the easiest sort of two-color knitting there is short of getting someone else to do it for you.

I'm taking a Flat Stanley for a tour of Magdeburg early next week so I'll have pictures for you. I'd have done it this week but high winds, rain, sleet and snow and a boy made of paper aren't a good mix.

That's it. 'Cept for the shuffle. Hit it, Fletcher.

Satellite Mind - Metric
For Your Love - The Yardbirds
And She Was - Talking Heads
Go Out Tonight - Mando Diao
The Hazards of Love, Part 1 (The Prettiest Whistles Won't Wrestle The Thistles Undone) - The Decemberists
Oh Yoko! - John Lennon
Here She Comes Again - Sasha
Chelsea Dagger - The Fratellis
Mercury Blues - Alan Jackson

And So We Wait

2009-03-26T22:16:00.002+01:00

When you're calling a business that you're already angry with, the last thing you want to have happen is for that businesses' phone to ring eleven times before it's answered but having it happen to us would be par for the course in our little wheelchair delivery adventure.

The young lady who answered wasn't what I'd call pleasant but she was adequate. B told her why he was calling and she put him on hold for three or four minutes while she found out why the delivery wasn't made. When she returned she did say she was "really, really sorry" but the reason why they didn't keep the appointment yesterday was because the wrong wheelchair was delivered. How's that for a I'm-not-a-bit-surprised moment? No word as to whether the wrong wheelchair was ordered or was merely delivered but I'm betting on the former. As for an explanation as to why the company didn't call us yesterday to let us know that they wouldn't be keeping the appointment, one wasn't offered and B, ever one to not rock the boat, didn't ask. He did, however, ask when delivery of the correct wheelchair could be expected and our telephone answering friend, evidently unable to anticipate a question that would surely be asked by a customer, didn't know so it was back on hold with us until she could find out. She told us it would likely be sometime next week and they'd call us with another delivery date.

The entire experience wasn't in the least a fulfilling one. While I didn't want B to scream and curse at the woman or even raise his voice, I did expect him to at least inquire as to why they didn't call us yesterday to say that the wheelchair wouldn't be delivered and that they had mightily inconvenienced us. B merely replied that: A. none of it was likely her fault and B: she did say she was "really, really sorry". As far as I was concerned she became one of the guilty when it took her eleven rings to answer a business phone.

We're going to give them yet one more chance to make this right by us - in other words, before we start calling for the lopping off of heads, B wants possession of the correct wheelchair. I personally believe that getting the manager of this joint involved (it's a locally owned business I believe and one that B has been doing business with for nearly 20 years and until now they'd always been very reliable) can begin now but B sees it differently and why he does is understandable. First, he's German. Germans are used to crappy customer service. I personally believe that excellent customer service freaks them out a little bit and they don't want too much of it. Second, B is not only German, he's from the former East Germany where rocking the boat before you have what you want in hand is definitely a bad idea. Back then if you bitched too much, too early then whoops! That little thing you've had your heart set on? Golly gee, we're not going to be able to get it for you. Sorry! Times have changed and so have the attitudes on boat rocking but once you've grown up with learning to hold your mouth just right to get what you need, it's a hard habit to break.

Once we've gotten B's wheelchair then that's when we'll sit down and write a letter to the management of the medical supply company and let them know exactly what our experience has been. This latest thing? While it made us crazy furious yesterday and can in no way be considered the proper way to treat a customer, it's peanuts compared to the previous months. Yesterday was a lot of the-right-hand-doesn't-know-what-the-left-hand-is-doing. Mistakes like that get made at every business and for us it was simply the simply the last straw. What really needs to be addressed is Herr Julius. That man should never be allowed to handle customers again. He would never return our calls, wouldn't return the calls of the insurance company and he told us out-and-out lies. Said he'd done things he hadn't. Said the insurance company had done things they hadn't. Misled and ignored us and in general made his company look like it's being run by Fred and Barney. That's whose ass I want in a sling. That's whose ass needs to be taking up space in an unemployment line.

By the way - did I mention that two weeks ago a car cut me off in traffic? Nearly took off my bumper? A company car from Vitalzentrum Strehlow.

Yeah. I wasn't surprised either.

Atomic Fury

2009-03-25T17:50:00.005+01:00

I'm warning you right now. I am in a seething rage. If you don't want to read a lot of profanity, you should c'mon back another day when I'm not ready to bite ten-penny nails in half.

Last week the medical supply company called to say that B's new wheelchair would be delivered today between noon and 3pm. Yesterday morning they called again to say they needed to change the time and the wheelchair would be delivered between 2pm and 5pm.

As I write this sentence it's 5:53pm and that fucking wheelchair isn't here yet. We've called the medical supply company and hooray! they seem to do one thing correctly! When 5pm rolls around they close their doors and put the recording on their phones that say they've gone home after a long, hard day of being inept!

I wish I could describe how fucking pissed I am but chances are you've been just as pissed at one time or another. I really thought we'd come to the end of the jumping through hoops it evidently requires to get a wheelchair but no - there seems to be something else we've got to do before these turds stick that fraking wheelchair on a van and bring it to our flat. And heaven forbid these turds call us and say "You know, we just can't make that delivery date. Can we reschedule?". That's all it would have taken. Now I simply don't give a shit what their excuse is because at this point the only good reason for not delivering the wheelchair today and not calling to say that they're not showing up would be that the whole damn place burned down.

I simply can't believe that any one company can be so incredibly shitty. I can't believe that they can get away, over and over, with treating us like a pile of crap. Do you know when this nightmare started? August 7, 2008. That's whem Mr. Medical Supply showed up for his first appointment with B so they could discuss what sort of wheelchair he needs. Mr. Medical didn't call us back for ages so after us contacting him again to ask what sort of wheelchairs he had to offer that would fit B, he returned for an appointment with us on September 17, 2008. We had to get a prescription from our doctor and that prescription was dated September 30, 2008 and I mailed it to the medical supply company that same day. We didn't hear back from Mr. Medical Supply - oh fuck it...his name is Herr Julius. I'm sick of hiding his identity. Anyway, Herr Julius didn't call us back to give us any information so B called him on February 9, 2009 to find out if the insurance company had approved the wheelchair B had picked out. As of February 27, 2009 there was still no progress (and as we found out, no file for this case with the insurance company) and it wasn't until we called the insurance company ourselves that we started to get any action. Well, you already know this since I've flogged the hell out of this topic on this blog over the last few weeks. The point is, I think 7 1/2 months of shit-filled customer service is a little too much.

I think what makes me the angriest is that this company gets away with this bullshit. They're dicking around a handicapped man and you know why? Because they can! Because they're really the only game in town if B needs new batteries for his electric wheelchair or needs a new bed. If something has to be maintained, replaced or repaired, we have to call these assholes and be at their mercy and they know it. They don't come right out as say "Fuck you, folks!" but that's exactly what their attitude says.

So Vitalzentrum Strehlow in Magdeburg and Herr Julius and the lady who makes shitty delivery appointments and you delivery guys who didn't show up today I'm not going to give you a "fuck you!" with my attitude. I'm going to say it plainly. Fuck you. Fuck you and your inepitude and your ass sucking customer service and your generally shitty attitude. Fuck you for treating my husband like he's nothing - like he should be grateful to be at your mercy. Fuck you for acting like we should just stand by and beg for any crumbs you may throw us. And God forbid you ever become sick or disabled. God forbid you or someone you love ever has an accident and becomes dependent on people who treat you like you're nothing but a bother. God forbid that anyone, anyone, ever treats you or someone you love with even a fraction of the disinterest and negligence that we've been shown by you.

And you had better hope to fuck that karma is nothing but bullshit.

Can It Be Only a Dream?

2009-03-24T23:29:00.001+01:00

The long-awaited push wheelchair for B arrives tomorrow between 2pm and 5pm. I can hardly believe it and don't want to get my hopes up too high before it arrives and I have an opportunity to inspect it.

I can't even imagine what I'll be like if it's the wrong wheelchair. If we have waited six months only to have the wrong wheelchair delivered then someone hide all the sharp objects from me, else I'll be sure to make use of them all.

Friday Shuffle - A Penny Saved Edition

2009-03-20T21:30:00.003+01:00

My MIL came over yesterday and during the course of the visit she told us of going to her bank to have some money invested. The money had been in an account at one of the banks B and I use - an account that allows her to get the money at any time and the account is guaranteed but like most savings accounts these days it doesn't pay very much.

B and I don't interfere with how my MIL spends her money or invests it but we do try to keep an eye on where she's putting her money and lend advice when necessary. Late last summer she got the idea to close the checking account she had at the bank she'd used for decades to put it in the same bank that Gerd used. This new checking account would pay her interest and she insists that she doesn't pay any monthly fees for it but I'm not sure that's the case. B and I didn't like the idea of her doing that but hey - it's her money.

We haven't said anything else about her financial decisions until she told us she was going to close the one savings account she had and invest it with the bank where she's got her checking account. B really gave her a look and she quickly said she wouldn't take all of it out but most of it. My MIL told us that she had an appointment with an investment adviser and he was going to help her put this money in a place that would keep it safe, give her ready access to the funds and pay her a little interest - essentially the same damn thing where the money was but whatever.

When my MIL was visiting yesterday she told us the appointment didn't go as she had planned and she didn't think that she would be investing with them after all. First, when she arrived for the appointment she was told that the man with whom she'd made the appointment wasn't there. Instead they had her see some man who my MIL described as looking as though he'd just started shaving yesterday.

Let me break in at this point to describe my last experience with seeing an investment adviser from our bank. It's not possible for B to get to the branch where she works so she comes to visit us at home. A particular investment account's time had run its course and therefore the funds needed to be reinvested so when she came for the appointment she was armed with information about different investment options that would fit our needs - about six different accounts. She had pamphlets and details all printed out, all with little folders - everything tidy and thorough. Our adviser knows our financial situation and our investment goals and so she brought information only for options that would fit within those bounds. In short - she knows what she's doing and when we speak with her I don't become panicky.

Compare this with the experience my MIL had. Her adviser thought it would be a good idea for her to put the money - money where there will not be additional funds added - in an account where most of it would be put into stocks. She'd definitely get more return on her investment if she put most of it in stocks.

I suppose Junior Investment Adviser failed to notice that my MIL will turn 75 years old in about three weeks. Oh yeah. She's got plenty of time to let that fund just grow and grow.

My MIL was also given some written information to take home with her to, one assumes, assist her in making her final decision. It was a piece of paper with part of a corner raggedly torn off. One one side were some figures and percentages scribbled along with some illegible names of some funds. The other side was covered in doodles, presumably made by Junior Investment Adviser - lots of large U-shaped figures with dots or vertical lines covering them. They somewhat resembled wings or perhaps they depicted saggy, poxy breasts.

You know when I'm at home looking over financial information given to me by my banker, nothing instills confidence in my bank more than a doodle strewn piece of scrap paper.

My MIL told Junior that she would like to speak first with her son before making a final decision and after leaving she went around the corner to another bank to make an appointment with them. It's one of the banks B and I use. It's the bank where up until last year my MIL had her checking account and one of her savings accounts. B and I were gracious and refrained from telling her "I told you so!".

Obviously it takes more than one person or even one branch to plunge a bank into financial disarray, especially when that bank has accounts in dozens of countries and hundreds of millions in assets. However, Citibank, in the future you may not want to have employees who disregard appointments and instead send barely-pubescent youngsters out to sell stocks to old women who cannot take any sort of risk of losing their initial investment and who will be pushing up daisies before they make back any money they lose in the stock market - the one that plunges downward every single day, especially since your company name is already mud in every language in which it does business. And Citibank, I know you're hurting for money right now, but could you please buy your employees some paper on which to write serious investment offers? I'm fairly sure that even the worst school of business and economics would tell you that giving financial advice coupled with semi-pornographic doodlings is not the best way to sell your products.

Let's shuffle.

Society's Child - Janis Ian
Lukey - Great Big Sea
Night By Night - Michael Stanley Band
I Wish The Best For You - Emerson Hart
C'mon, C'mon - The Von Bondies
Scenes From An Italian Restaurant - Billy Joel
Southern Cross - Crosby, Stills & Nash
Devoted To You - Everly Brothers
Something's Gone Wrong Again - The Buzzcocks
Family Tree - Loretta Lynn

Everyone Turn Around. Now Wave.

2009-03-18T23:56:00.002+01:00

You're waving at one of my readers, Kerry. Know what's special about Kerry? She speaks English. I know that you speak English too and don't think that speaking English is any great shakes but one thing that Kerry has over you is that she happens to live in Magdeburg. Yeah, there are other English speakers here in Magdeburg but for the most part the only kinds of English speakers I ever run into are college students here at the university on an exchange program, their parents when they come visit their precious American child studying at the university and the occasional Asian or African student who doesn't seem to be able to speak German worth a damn and who are bollocksed up at a shop and they know enough English to have me play translator.

Example: The other week while I was at the confectionery section of the department store buying some chocolates for B there was a young Asian man who was trying to convey to the saleslady that there was a special French chocolate that he was look for. He kept saying it was French and the saleslady couldn't think of a French chocolate they sold. Swiss, yes. Belgian, yes. French, no. She asked him if he could tell her the name of the chocolate and he replied in English "I don't really speak German". A-ha! Time for Super Nosy Translator Lady to horn in. I asked him in English "What's the name of the chocolate?" and when he replied "It's called Merci," I told him there was a whole bunch of it right behind his head and then explained to the saleslady that it was the Merci chocolates he was looking for and that he must have thought they were French chocolates because merci is a French word. The young man and the saleslady were both thankful that I could translate and that he could find what he wanted to buy. I didn't have the heart to tell him he was buying some not-all-that-special German brand chocolate that could be found cheaper at any grocery store in the city.

When speaking English to anyone except my husband is such a treat for me that helping out a young man to buy overpriced chocolate makes my whole day, you can imagine how happy I was to get an email from Kerry. She let me know that she's read my blog and she and her family moved to Magdeburg a couple months ago and she'd like to meet me sometime. Yay!

This will be a good time for me to tell you what it's like for me to meet someone for the first time. Call this an explanation and, if you ever have the opportunity to meet me, a warning as well. When I first meet you I will likely be rather quiet. I will desperately engage in small talk. The weather will be discussed. Traveling to our meeting spot will be discussed. And then at some point - usually when all small talk topics have been exhausted - me and the person I'm meeting will hit upon a topic in which we'll both have some interest in and then I'll be off. I'll be like a house a-fire. I won't talk non-stop...I'm actually pretty good at letting others chime in. I like to think I'm a pretty good listener and I don't believe I dominate conversations. But I'll warn you now - if you don't like to talk, don't bother meeting me.

Just the idea of being able to speak freely in English to someone has made me almost giddy. I can speak English to B whenever I want but there's something about speaking English to a native speaker in person that's even more special.

Friday Shuffle - Progress! Edition

2009-03-13T21:58:00.003+01:00

The wheelchair thing! The endless saga of the new wheelchair! We may finally be reaching the end. Is that light I see?

On Tuesday B called the insurance company's state headquarters in Stendal to speak with the lady who's been trying to get a hold of Mr. Medical Supply. She would call and leave messages for him to call her back and he wouldn't. One thing I'll say for Mr. Medical - he's consistently negligent. This time, however, we gave her the number for his cell phone and I'm sure when she finally reached him it was a conversation to be savored. At any rate, on Wednesday we got a call from the local office of the insurance company to make an appointment to come see B and find out just why he needed a new push wheelchair and why he needed a more expensive than normal one.

Shortly after 9:00am on Thursday the representative from the local insurance office came to our flat and I'll say it now. She was the weirdest woman I've come across in ages. For those of you who live in Germany, I can give you a bit of an idea of what she was like: I opened the door and for a moment I thought she was Cindy aus Marzahn. She wasn't, of course, but dang. And she sounded like her too. Anyway, she came in and B explained to her his reasons for needed this particular wheelchair, which she dutifully wrote down - and then proceeded to start some conversation about fishing for eels on the Baltic Sea. B and I both were sitting there with stuck on smiles and laughing when appropriate but I knew from the look in his eyes and he knew from mine that on the inside all we were thinking was "What in the hell is she going on about? And could she please just leave?". I didn't dare give any indication in any way that I thought she was batshit crazy because hey - we needed her to say to the office in Stendal that they should approve the request.

We must have been convincing because today when B called the lady in Stendal, she said the woman who visited us on Thursday sent the report and it was approved and notification of it had been sent to both us and the medical supply company. All that's left is for them order the wheelchair and have it delivered.

I'm secretly hoping that Mr. Medical Supply will be the one to deliver the wheelchair because making him squirm would absolutely thrill me no end but I don't think he's got a pair big enough to make him show up. In any case, he's not off the hook with us yet. Writing letters to companies to discuss their customer service is something at which I excell and I believe this will be no exception.

There's one last thing I should mention before we drop the subject of this push wheelchair and that's this: we can't get a chest belt for this wheelchair without getting a notarized statement from B that a chest belt for this wheelchair will be put on him with his permission. This chest belt is important because if we're on, say, a streetcar where there could be sudden stops that could make his body go out of balance it would keep him from sliding dangerously from side to side. Or if I'm pulling him up a curb or pushing him over cobblestone - you get the picture. There's one on B's electric wheelchair. However the insurance company told us one can't be put on the new one without this notarized request (and for those of you who don't know this - in Germany only lawyers are notaries) because things like wheelchair seatbelts/chest restraints and side rails on beds can trap in a person against their will and their need to be free superceeds their need to be safe. I then remembered our doctor telling us last year that her MIL slid out of a wheelchair and broke her leg but since she hadn't signed to be restrained in her wheelchair, the nursing home couldn't do anything about it and she would be free to fall out on the floor again. Let's think about this. People in wheelchairs - people who can't walk - need the freedom to get up out of their wheelchairs whenever they want. Okay! So if B wants this chest belt we're going to have truck him down to a lawyer's office to get a notarized statement - and pay a lawyer's hourly fee for it. The upside is that he'll have a new wheelchair to roll down there in. The downside is that he may fall out in the middle of the street while getting there.

We need to shuffle.

Zero - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Under The Blacklight - Rilo Kiley
Somebody To Love - Queen
The Game Of Love - The Mindbenders
Come And Get Your Love - Redbone
Standing In The Way Of Control - Gossip
This Tornado Loves You - Neko Case
Seven More Times - Maria Doyle Kennedy
Tonight - Shooting Star
Leaving On A Jet Plane - Peter, Paul & Mary

Dig all those girls singing.

Zzzzzzz....

2009-03-09T22:06:00.002+01:00

In the past three weeks I've heard/read from two or three different sources that sleep deprivation is killer. That sleeping only four, five, six hours a night every night is making us cranky, emotionally ill-equipped to handle bad things that happen, fat, diabetic and we don't want to get it on as much. That humans are the only animals that purposely deprive themselves of the proper amount of sleep and that our bodies do not seem to have a way to compensate for lack of sleep. If you're sleep deprived, you're sleep deprived and your body will not learn to adapt.

Yikes! I'm one of those people! I'm always scooting along on about five to six hours of sleep. Sometimes I get seven but that's a lot for me. Here I was all these years thinking that my butt is big because I eat popcorn at midnight. And it is for that reason but the reason I'm eating it is because I'm really sleep deprived. The little hormone that tells your body that you're not hungry? You don't make that hormone when you're sleep deprived hence, popcorn at midnight!

We've somehow fooled ourselves into thinking that sleeping eight to ten hours a night (and the stories I read/heard said that the minimum we should be sleeping is eight hours a night, every night) is a sign of laziness. That's we're not getting the most out of life when we sleep that much and it's a sort of badge of honor to drag through each day after only getting five hours of sleep. What we don't realize though is that we're not doing our best and getting the most out of life and the added stress it's putting on our bodies is aging us faster and making us fatter.

This has explained so much about things in my life that I'm unhappy with. It won't fix everything but I imagine it'll remove some roadblocks that I've let trip me up. I know on those days after I've had a really long sleep I feel so much better and I wonder why I keep staying up too late at night and robbing myself of what I really need.

Friday Shuffle - La-Dee-Dah Edition

2009-03-06T22:45:00.004+01:00

My, my...a whole week has slipped by without me bothering to update you on the ins and outs of my life. You didn't miss much. The highlight would have been on Wednesday when I made pancakes for breakfast. Pancakes! On a Wednesday! And it wasn't even a holiday! Unheard of behavior in my house. All hell is breaking loose!

Else not much was different than in other weeks. The Great Wheelchair Replacement Adventure progressed not a lick. There will be a cure for paralysis before B gets this wheelchair.

I want to ride on a boat. I live along a major river. I should just go down to the pier, take one of those river tour cruises that cost fifteen bucks and you can sit there and look at the river and eat bockwurst and drink beer for three hours. Maybe that would cure my malaise. Maybe it would get B his wheelchair faster.

In the meantime, let's shuffle.

A Whiter Shade Of Pale - Annie Lennox
I Love Being Here With You - Queen Latifah
Semi Automatic - The Boxer Rebellion
Sundown - Gordon Lightfoot
Irgendwas Bleibt - Silbermond
Drown - Son Volt
Go All The Way - Raspberries
Working Again - Michael Stanley Band
Old Enough - The Raconteurs
Every Little Thing - Carlene Carter

Friday Shuffle - Getting Nowhere Fast Edition

2009-02-27T21:27:00.004+01:00

We still haven't gotten anywhere with the new wheelchair for B thing. Remember how Mr. Medical Supply promised he'd call by the end of the week to let us know what was going on after he had an opportunity to give the health insurance company the information they'd requested? Information like how old B's current push wheelchair is? I'm sure you won't be surprised to hear that he didn't call by by the end of last week. And as of yesterday he still hadn't called so B called Mr. Medical once again. This guy hasn't called us back ever. If he says he'll call back you can be sure he won't.

Anyway Mr. Medical said he still hadn't heard anything from the insurance company and when B suggested that he'd like to call the insurance company's state headquarters, Mr. Medical said that B should call the local branch here in Magdeburg. B did call the office here and I wasn't even vaguely surprised to hear the clerk say that there was no file on record for B requesting a new push wheelchair. While we waited she tried to reach another person at the state headquarters office to see if there was a file for B there and the lady who would handle it wasn't there. We got the number for the lady at the headquarters and called her this morning. And I doubt you'll be surprised to hear that she didn't have a file for this case either. I was, however, mildly shocked when, after giving this woman a rundown of all that's been going on since September she replied that the insurance company wouldn't even ask how old B's current push wheelchair is. Mr. Medical had told us more than once that it was one the primary pieces of information that he needed to supply to the insurance company.

Right now I can't decide on what irks me the most - the fact that Mr. Medical Supply has done nothing to get B his wheelchair or the fact that he repetedly lies to us. He's lied to us about when he'll be in touch with us again, he lies about what sort of contact he's had with the insurance and he lies about why things are taking so long. Why lie about anything? Why not just get B his wheelchair?

The lady at the insurance company said she'd call the medical supply company herself to see what is going on and that if the supply company didn't call us by the end of Monday that we should call her Tuesday.

I know it's not good to wish ill upon others but to me it wouldn't be wishing ill as much as saving others from being jerked around if at the end of all this Mr. Medical Supply got fired. I'd say that he perhaps should become Mr. Ditch Digger but why have an incompetent liar make the other ditch diggers look bad?

Let's shuffle.

Magnificent - U2
Far Pavillions - ...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead
Good Lovin' - The Rascals
The Ballad Of John Henry - Joe Bonamassa
Fingertips, Part 2 - Stevie Wonder
Laisse tomber les filles - April March
Sleepless - The Decemberists
Oh No - Andrew Bird
The Song Remains The Same - Led Zeppelin
There's A Place - The Beatles

Flaming Lips

2009-02-24T21:54:00.003+01:00

It's a bit sad to me when I get a gift that I thought I really, really wanted and end up not enjoying so much. All that effort and expense that someone put out to get me what I asked for and in the end it sits on a shelf, unappreciated and unloved. This doesn't happen terribly often but when it does I actually feel sorry for the shunned object.

Fletcher the iPod in no way fits into this category. I love him. He is with me at all times. Not only can I tote around with me so much more music than I could when I used Bixente the iPod but now I can carry with me podcasts. Until now podcasts had to be enjoyed by me while I sat at my computer and often I wouldn't bother with them because it's hard to write when someone's chatting in my ear. Now when I'm doing chores or running errands I'm as likely, if not more, to be listening to a podcast as I am listening to music. Podcasts fit my love of hearing stories and learning an amazing amount of trivia.

Last week I heard on the This American Life podcast a fascinating story of a boy who, nearly 100 years ago, went missing in a swamp in Louisiana and was later found. Two families claimed this boy to be theirs but the wealthier family ended up with the boy. Later the descendents did research to find who this boy really belonged to. As I shopped for groceries I was completely hooked into that tale. HowStuffWorks.com has a bunch of podcasts that keep me entertained and I've learned all sorts of trivia about redheads, going over Niagra Fall in a barrel, the Jefferson Bible, the Spanish Inquisition, medieval torture devices, moonshine and so on as I clean the toilet or go fetch bread at the bakery. National Public Radio has a treasure trove of podcasts. There are podcasts about books, movies, music, politics, food and my favorite is Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me - an on air game show about the previous week's news events. And it's the one that caused me a bit of trouble tonight.

Tonight as I listened to the latest episode of Wait, Wait... I was making Spanish rice for supper and in my distraction I seem to have spooned in way too much cayenne pepper. The first bite wasn't so bad but as I ate more my mouth began to burn to the point where I'm surprised that my tongue and palate aren't blistered. My eyelids were sweating.

Maybe I should email HowStuffWorks.com and suggest they do a podcast about how hot peppers work.

Friday Shuffle - Low Battery Edition

2009-02-20T22:01:00.004+01:00

B was sick during the night. Some stomach ailment - it's better now but I wasn't able to get to sleep until nearly 5am. I can't ever sleep when he's very sick. I get worried that he'll need me and not be able to wake me up so when he's sick I sit up with him until I'm certain he's sleeping okay or he's feeling better. Last night had me curled up next to him listening to podcasts. I'm sleep deprived but am much more knowledgeable about Franklin Roosevelt, precocious puberty and how one becomes a squatter.

Fletcher the iPod and I are low on energy so let's get on with the shuffle.

Wandering By - The Bishops
Around Again - Five Way Friday
Gloria - Them
In The Morning - Razorlight
Streets of Bakersfield - Dwight Yoakam with Buck Owens
Hold Tight! - Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich (The best part of watching Death Proof)
I Wanna Be Sedated - The Ramones
Consoler Of The Lonely - The Raconteurs
Send Her An Angel - Jackson Waters
Heavy - Collective Soul

Jumping Through Hoops

2009-02-17T21:59:00.003+01:00

Waking up to a cloudless, sunshiny sky when I was expecting snow or at least some sort of depressing overcast nonsense had me up and ready to head out the door in record time. Why hang around home when you can go shopping for stuff you're not going to buy?

First though my husband needed to call the guy at the medical supply shop. B's been trying to get a new push wheelchair since....I don't know. Like October or November. Go dig back in my archives if you really want to know because I'm sure I mentioned it when we first started the process. Here's how the process goes. Mr. Medical Supply comes over and finds a push wheelchair that will suit B's needs - in other words one that will comfortably accommodate his 6'4" long body and will fold up so I don't have a big ass wheelchair cluttering up our flat. I already have one of those, thanks, and don't need another. Then B gets a prescription for the wheelchair from the doctor, gives it to Mr. Medical Supply who then gives it to the insurance company with some paperwork. The insurance company says yes or no or asks for more information, Mr. Medical Supply gives it to them, they approve it, chair is ordered, delivered and the old push wheelchair we have that's currently in my way because it's so ancient it will no longer fold up is taken away. I get that there's going to be lag time but shit fire, we're halfway through February now. I sent the prescription to Mr. Medical Supply long ago - I think it was even before the Christmas market opened. We waited for a couple weeks and then B called Mr. Medical Supply to ask for an update. He asked how old B's current push chair is because the insurance company asked why B needed this specific wheelchair and how old his current one was. B told Mr. Medical that he'd had the push chair since around 1991 or 1992. And then we waited. We waited over Christmas and we waited over January and when we were staring down the middle of February B decided to call Mr. Medical again.

B called him last Monday. Mr. Medical said he needed to check his paperwork and would call back during the week. After no return call B called him again yesterday. Mr. Medical said he'd call between 5pm and 6pm. No call again and B called him back this morning. Mr. Medical apologized and admitted that the paperwork for this situation had been neglected but he'd heard from the insurance company and they wanted to know why B needed this specific chair and needed to know how old B's current push chair was.

Excuse me. Did I just get sucked back into time ten weeks?

B gave him the information again and Mr. Medical assured B that he'd call back during the week. I hung up the phone and went berserk. That lying SOB! Acting like he'd just heard from the insurance company and hadn't already asked B these questions. This guy has completely ignored this and I reckon if we hadn't called the paperwork would have sat on his desk until the end of time. It pisses me off no end how handicapped people are treated as if they're too stupid to know that they're being dicked around and that they're too timid to speak up for themselves and it pisses me off no end that people can't do their jobs properly. You sell medical equipment. Wouldn't you be better paid if you...oh I don't know...maybe sold some effing medical equipment to someone who's asking for it?

My idea for handling the situation was to go over Mr. Medical Supply's head and get his supervisor involved or me simply shoving my size 7 shoe up his ass. B's idea is to tell Mr. Medical Supply that B will contact the insurance company directly because if he talks to them they'll want to know why Mr. Medical hasn't already resolved this and will contact the manager thereby getting Mr. Medical's ass in a sling in a way that can't be ignored.

So then I went out into the sunshiny day and bought some white and purple tulips to celebrate the impending ass kicking of Mr. Medical Supply.

Friday Shuffle - Flowers and Music Edition

2009-02-13T22:24:00.003+01:00

At the risk of pissing off some of you, I have to say that I don't understand folks who foam at the mouth at the mere mention of Valentine's Day. It's an optional day. Celebrate it or don't but if you don't celebrate it or feel any sort of need to be especially romantic with your partner on that day or if you don't have a partner at all, why get hacked off at the rest of us who like Valentine's Day? Why tell us we're wasting our time, wasting our money, and are being slaves to the candy, flower, and greeting card companies? Some of us like to do something a little extra for our sweethearts on that particular day. There's no need for y'all to be pissing in our Wheaties. I never got to be a mother and never will. Is that an excuse for me to get all wound up about Mother's Day and throw a wet blanket on the celebrations others are having? Of course not. If you don't celebrate Valentine's Day because you just don't care for it or because you don't have anyone with whom to celebrate it that's fine, but if you begrudge the rest of us enjoying that day, please unknot your underpants before they become wedged in your colon.

Wow. I don't know where that came from. I didn't start out with that little rant in mind but I have to say that I feel better for having let it out. Thank you for indulging me!

Time for some picture magic. The daffodils I bought today here seen at about 2pm. Roll your cursor over them to see them as they appeared at 8pm.

They're the flowers B instructed me to get for myself for Valentine's Day. I think he had something a little more fancy and traditional for Valentine's Day in mind but I liked the price tag on these - three euro. Hey - I'd rather take the money I saved and spend and hour poking around the iTunes store. I may be romantic but I'm also practical.

Speaking of iTunes, it's time for Fletcher to shuffle.

Atlantic City - The Hold Steady
Use Somebody - Kings of Leon
Whip In My Valise - Adam Ant
Thunder Island - Jay Ferguson
I Made A Mess Of This Town - Scott Miller & The Commonwealth
The Rake's Song - The Decemberists (Fletcher shuffled this up out of habit - I haven't been able to stop listening to this song for a week now.)
While You Wait - Mark McAdam
Satisfaction Guaranteed - The Firm
Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Queen
Instant Karma! - John Lennon

Diligent

2009-02-12T22:18:00.003+01:00

Please pardon my absence. You didn't notice that I haven't written anything in nearly a week? Lie to me and say you did. I beg of you.

In the past week I have put aside many of my regular ways of filling my days, including writing blog entries, in favor of beginning my spring cleaning. It being only February doesn't matter. I'm slovenly and if I want things done before it actually turns summer I have to begin now. I've had my head stuck inside the oven for so long that I am considering changing my name to Sylvia Plath and I've been so intent on scrubbing the bathroom tile grout that I believe we've become best friends. I think the grout is getting me a valentine.

And the empty cardboard boxes. Oh the boxes! Those devil boxes! I can have every best intention in the world to not let them build up before taking them to the recycler but best intentions inevitably turn into "How in the hell did so many boxes get in here?".

I can't wait until the spring cleaning turns to going through my clothes closets. I know I've got some definite wardrobe gems in there.

Friday Shuffle - Honesty Can Be Brutal Edition

2009-02-06T21:48:00.004+01:00

One of the best things about a friendship is that you build a bond of trust. When you feel close with someone you feel as if you can trust them with a very important question: "Do you like it?". Your friend can mean "Do you like this dress?" or "Do you like this wine?" or "Do you like my new haircut?" or "Do you like this cake?". I'd like to believe that for the most part our friends give us an honest answer when we ask that question. They'll let us know if the cut of that dress doesn't flatter our figure but sometimes they won't. Sometimes they just don't have the heart to say your new haircut makes you look like a yeti or that the maple walnut cake you baked tastes like something you scraped off your shoe.

Now one would think that when it comes to family one would have even more freedom to be absolutely honest because, after all, they're family and you're stuck with each other but that's not always the case. Sometimes you can't find it in your heart to say to your sibling or your mother that what they like is, to you, a complete horror and that's when you've got to start getting creative. Or start lying like a rug.

This is the new wallpaper my MIL has put up in her livingroom:

Yeah, I know it's got fold lines in it. She had brought over this sample last weekend and it had been folded up in her purse. Still, I don't believe the fold lines detract from the shiny, peachy-colored background and the raised, poop brown pattern. My MIL brought it over last weekend so she could show it to B and she said "Do you like it?". I kept saying "Oh! Wow!". B was more non-committal and would only grunt "Hmmm!". My MIL didn't seem to really notice our lack of enthusiasm but did say that I would need to get a picture of it the next time I was over at her place so B could see the full effect on the walls.

I did have to go over there the other day to fetch something and unfortunately I forgot my camera so I can't show you the aforementioned "full effect" but let me just say this. Ho-lee-shit. I can't begin to describe what a horror this wallpaper is. First, my MIL's living room is fairly small and it is stuffed full of furniture. A huge cabinet that covers an entire sixteen foot long wall save for about six inches on each side. A three seater sofa and two large upholstered chairs. An enormous aquarium. A sideboard that covers most of an four foot long wall. I reckon my MIL and Gerd (and I'm blaming this all on him) didn't feel hemmed in enough and thought that slapping up that wallpaper would give visitors a more cozy feeling - that is if being in an MRI machine is your idea of cozy. I've been in that room a jillion times but this time it felt like the walls were going to move in and squeeze me to death before the visit was over.

And naturally my MIL wanted to know how I liked it. Being completely honest and saying "Are you kidding? It's awful! Tackiest thing I've ever seen. This room looks like a combination of a tunnel and the waiting area in a bordello!" was out of the question but saying "Ohhh! Nice! Very nice!" was equally out of the question so it was time to get creative. At first I said "Wow! It's something, isn't it? Very impressive!" and then when she kept on about how nice this wallpaper was I switched to saying "It's certainly unique!" and finally had to start giving the truth a beating by saying "It really is elegant!"

My claustrophobia was starting to kick in so I grabbed what I came to get in the first place and got out of there before I had to start complimenting the great job Gerd did with hanging the wallpaper. He didn't. He left the old wallpaper up - textured wall paper - and you can see the texture through the new stuff. Any non-offensive comments I might make about his handiwork would be out-and-out lies. I gotta draw the line somewhere.

Time to shuffle.

Oh No - Andrew Bird
Problems - Alter Me
My Way - The Sex Pistols
My Girls - Animal Collective
Standing On The Moon - Grateful Dead (Can we just pause here a moment to marvel at the fact that a Grateful Dead song is on my iPod?! I have three of them now, as a matter of fact. The impossible may not be impossible after all!)
Books From Boxes - Maximo Park
That Certain Party - Dean Martin & Jerry Lewis
Itchycoo Park - The Small Faces
Dance With Somebody - Mando Diao
Goodnight (I'm So Sorry) - Christopher Jak

Custom Built

2009-02-05T22:09:00.004+01:00

I have to admit that I like doing for others more than I like doing for myself. It's not that I don't like making or doing things that are just for me. The drawback seems to be that what would be unacceptable for another becomes perfectly fine when it's for me.

Case in point - these socks:

Pause for yarny talk:
Pattern: King Charles Brocade by Charlene Schurch
Yarn: Cherry Tree Hill
Colorway: Spring Frost

I almost never knit socks for myself but I made an exception and knit this pair for just for me. I simply loved the yarn and I greedily wanted it for myself (Thanks for the yarn, Kay!). I'd grown tired of knitting lace and decided on a pattern that would be textured without it being ribbed (ribbing tends to bore me).

Now I have somewhat chunky calves so I decided on using a larger cast-on number than what is usual for a lady's leg, especially since I didn't believe this pattern would give much stretch like ribbing and lace can. It's a fun pattern to knit, fairly easy to do but honestly probably not the best choice for this yarn because the variegation of color in the yarn makes it harder to see the crosses. Or diamonds if that's where your eye is drawn to on the pattern. Had this been a sock for someone else I would have ripped it back and started over with a different pattern but hey...they're just for me.

I also figured that when it was time to knit the foot the larger calf wasn't going to do for my more normal sized ankle and foot so I would have to decrease from 72 stitches to 64 stitches to get a proper fit in the heel, ankle and instep. Unfortunately with this pattern you can't make the crosses run down the instep with 32 instep stitches. I could have adjusted the pattern to center the crosses on the foot with some plain side stitches but hey...they're just for me. Having just a plain-all-around stockinette foot is fine.

I finished the socks and upon after seeing them on the sock blockers I declared them to possibly be the goofiest looking socks I've ever knit. A baggy-looking calf, a heel flap that looks way too short for the sock and an uninteresting foot. But then I put them on and declared that, while I seldom ever knit socks for myself, these were definitely the most comfortable socks I've ever knit. The yarn is dreamy soft anyway and while the calf turned out to be a bit too wide for me, it's stays up and doesn't bind my leg anywhere. The heel is perfect and the foot, while being plain, is wonderfully comfortable on my foot when I'm wearing the socks with shoes. All-in-all these socks are not very attractive. They're full of quirks and changes that I likely would never make with a pair of socks I'd knit for someone else but that's what makes them just right for me.

Friday Shuffle - Panic Button Edition

2009-01-30T22:23:00.004+01:00

My oldest brother is a smart man. Well educated. He has a master's degree from Duke University and has a PhD from USC. He teaches children with learning disabilities. So can someone tell me why he can't seem to get that California and Germany are in different time zones? Vastly different time zones? That there is a nine hour time difference between them?

I was deeply asleep and in the midst of a dream involving my sister, buying a car and a soccer game when the phone rang. Two of them actually - the extension that sits in the hallway by the front door and shrieks as loud as a tea kettle and the one in the living room which ain't no slouch either when it comes to waking one from a dead sleep. My legs were wound up in the duvet so by the time I untangled them and had dashed into the living room, the fourth ring was starting up and then abruptly stopped before I could snatch up the receiver.

It's been my general experience that anyone who calls at 3:30am isn't calling to chat. They're calling because they're in trouble or because they have bad news to report. Being awakened by the phone ringing had stirred me up quite well but when adding in that it was the middle of the night and that whoever it was hung up before I could reach it had me on the verge of a shit hemorrhage panic.

Our cordless phone has a feature that shows the number of who is calling so I checked to see if it stored the number of my phantom caller. Unfortunately I can't remember which direction you press the scroll button to start at the last call so I couldn't tell if the caller was our friend, Kirsten, or my brother, Bill. The likelihood of it being Kirsten seemed pretty remote - even if someone had died I couldn't imagine Kirsten calling before morning. Now it would be possible, I suppose, for my brother to call with bad news but it seemed more likely that he would call my sister first and then she would be the bearer of bad tidings.

By now I was wide awake and my nerves were jangling from the fright so I called my sister. You may wonder why I didn't just call my brother back and the reason for that seemed very logical to me at the time. I was pretty sure that the number recorded on my phone was Bill's but I wasn't completely sure. Bill moved from Los Angeles to Berkeley a few months ago but the phone number had an 818 area code - an area code in the LA area. It could have been the phone number for his cell phone that didn't get changed but then again maybe it was someone else who lives in LA who has my phone number but was calling from 818. I don't know anyone else in the LA area who lives in 818 but at the time my though processes were a bit hampered. I also wanted to speak with my sister because if Bill had bad new for me, I would rather hear it from her than from him and I know for a fact that if there was tragic news, he would have called her before calling me. In our family, extended family included, if there's bad news to be told, the first person you tell is my sister.

So I called my sister and when she answered there was an enormous amount of static on the line so I only had time to say "It's me. This line is bad. Hang up and I'll call you back". Of course I wasn't thinking of the effect my calling at that time of night would have on her. I rang her back immediately and her first question after answering was "What is it? What's happened?". I'm sure she was expected terrible, tragic news and was likely a bit surprised when I answered "Is Bill's cell phone number 818-blah-blahblah?". She told me she would have to look it up in her cell phone to check (and by the way, I could have looked it up on my cell phone had I even a glimmer of a logical thought in my head) and while she looked she said "What is going on anyway? Why are you calling in the middle of the night? You've scared the hell out of me!". I went on to explain about the phone ringing and me not catching it in time and me seeing what was perhaps Bill's cell phone number on my phone and me wanting any sort of bad news from her and not him and by the was nothing was wrong, was there? Sister replied that everything was fine as far as she knew and she couldn't imagine Bill calling me with bad news before calling her and yes, that number is Bill's cell phone number and you know Bill. He probably got the notion to call you and didn't even think about there being a nine hour time difference until the phone rang and then he hurried up and hung up not thinking that a call like that in the middle of the night was bound to scare the shit out of you.

Now that both of us were nervous wrecks we said goodnight to each other and I told her I'd call her over the weekend and at a normal hour. I reassured B that everything was fine and crawled back into bed, completely wound up and completely unable to fall asleep. In order to get my mind off my fright and off of wanting to brain my brother for scaring me and, in turn, scaring my sister, I grabbed Fletcher the iPod and listened to a couple podcasts from HowStuffWorks.com. I'm a little sleep deprived but am more knowledgeable about vikings and comas than I was before I went to bed.

Time to shuffle.

Rain - The Beatles
Seminole Wind - James Taylor
Hey Now - Tenfold Loadstar
No Myth - Michael Penn
Far Behind - Candlebox
Chinese Dogs - Dirty Pretty Things
Je Cherche Un Homme - Eartha Kitt
Tonight - Shooting Star
In The Heartland - Michael Stanley Band
Passionate Kisses - Mary-Chapin Carpenter

Making Light

2009-01-28T22:58:00.003+01:00

Our ability to bear it any longer has been sorely tested in the past few days.

About six weeks ago we bought a new floor lamp for the living room. We'd been using one for years that takes a halogen bulb and we wanted to switch over to a lamp that uses those energy saving bulbs. Colder light but I like the idea of using 55 watts to get 250 watts worth of light. But for the past few weeks the light seemed to be getting dimmer. At first I thought it was because I wasn't turning the dimmer up all the way but even with it turned all the way up the light seemed to not be as bright as it was before.

B suggested that I pop out the bulb and pop it back in to see if it would help but I had gotten sort of freaked out when I first put the bulb in. It snaps into place and it was not easy to get it snapped in - a lot of pushing and me worrying that I'd break something. I had visions of the bulb shattering like a florescent bulb and making that horrific exploding noise as it did so. I tried to pull the bulb back out but getting it yanked out was turning out to be much more difficult than snapping it in and after a few minutes I was nearly in tears and whimpering, "Why do I have to do all the crappy jobs? Why do I have to snap out bulbs and get rid of spiders and open champagne bottles? Why do I have to be the one who clears the snow off the car and go into the creepy-ass basement? Why? Why?!".

I threw in the towel and suggested that perhaps I'd get Gerd to do it. Maybe even get a new bulb and have him switch them out. And while I'm on the subject, why in the hell am I misspelling bulb each time I type the word? Bulp, bulm, bump, bumb - each attempt to type bulb takes me two tries! Even then I just typed bulp!

We sat here a little longer - the lamp seeming to be dimmer than it had been an hour before and I finally said "I can't stand it anymore! I can't see shit around here! There's more light in a funeral home! We'd do better with candles lit than with what this piece-o-crap is giving out!". We do have an overhead lamp but it's one of those high intensity light jobs so it's a bit like living in a jewelry store. My diamond jewelry looks great but the lamps burn my scalp. Of course that opened me up to having to go into the creepy-ass basement to get the old floor lamp I'd put into storage down there.

In reality our basement is very tidy. The walls are brick and painted white so it looks quite clean. There is rat bait down in the corners but I've never seen any rodents down there. I've never even seen a spider. However it's a maze of little hallways and to get to my storage area I have to go to the very back corner. Making my way to my storage area makes me feel a bit like Danny Torrance at the Overlook. I'm going to make a turn and run into slaughtered twins.

Scooting down quickly to my storage area was easy. Scooting out quickly was impossible because the lamp I was fetching has a weighted base and the thing must weigh a good fifteen pounds and it's about six feet tall. The basement's ceiling is low with pipes for the steam heating criss-crossing it. I was inching along trying to keep the base from bumping the ground while trying not to whack the glass globe on one of the pipes and at the same time trying not to tip the lamp over so far that the dead, dried moths that had accumulated in the open globe didn't dump out into my hair. Oh hush. So I didn't vacuum out the lamp's globe before storing it. So what? I didn't think I'd be using it again. Certainly not with six weeks of its initial storage.

By the time I made it back into my apartment I was nearly hysterical, what with the creepy-ass basement, hefting that heavy lamp up the stairs, dodging the steam pipes (which scare me anyway - I always picture them bursting open and scalding me as I walk under them) and avoiding my hair being coated in dried moth carcassas. I got the crummy new lamp moved out of the way and the old one put into its place and then...

"Ahhhhh! That's much, much better. Light! You're amazing! You made light!". To B I had performed a near miracle. "I couldn't stand that other light anymore. It was making me so depressed!"

"You mean you're not depressed because you're a quadriplegic but you were depressed that the lamp was so dim?"

"Yes! That's it! Now I'm much happier."

And then to thank me for saving him from another evening of depression he ordered Chinese food for dinner. That alone was worth the trip to the creepy-ass basement.

If We Get Our Way

2009-01-26T21:42:00.002+01:00

...and all goes well, we're going to move to Australia. B has a ton of cousins living in Adelaide, Australia and they routinely beg us to come down there. And you know we'd love that. I'd love to live around his cousins. I adore them. They're very tight with each other and I want to be included in that clan. Finally living around a whole pile of folks who have the same last name as we have. A large extended family that celebrate holidays and birthdays and vacations together. What could be better than that?

So what does us getting our way entail? Just one simple thing. We just need to win twenty-eight million euro on Wednesday when the lottery numbers are drawn. I've done my part. I've played. All I'm waiting on is for my numbers to be drawn. I don't believe it's too much to ask.

And now y'all know what we daydream about on dreary winter afternoons.

Friday Shuffle - Peaked Too Soon Edition

2009-01-23T21:42:00.004+01:00

The week started out eventful enough. I had a birthday on Monday and on Tuesday the United States gave me a wonderful gift - a president I dig the mostest. After that things sort of went downhill. Nothing bad happened but nothing remarkable either. You have to admit, it's hard to top a historic presidential nomination so I didn't even bother. I did errands in the morning, after lunch I would concentrate on watching biathlon in the background as did my regular household stuff and then in the late afternoon I'd settle in to watch Germany play in the team handball world cup.

I'm getting more European by the day. Next thing you know I'll be participating in protest marches and wearing Birkenstocks. Wait. I've already past that point.

Let's shuffle.

Put On Your Tight Pants (Hi Heel Sneakers) - Ike & Tina Turner
Semi Automatic - The Boxer Rebellion
Flathead - The Fratellis
Lil' Jack Slade - Dixie Chicks
Ballroom Blitz - Sweet
Get It On (Bang A Gong) - Marc Bolan & T. Rex
Scarecrow People - XTC
I Am A Rock - Simon & Garfunkel
Say Goodbye To Hollywood - Billy Joel
Mister Garfield - Johnny Cash

Witness to History

2009-01-20T22:29:00.002+01:00

I'm not a good enough writer to be able to express how the inauguration of Barack Obama as president of the United States has touched me. There are so many feelings and emotions tied to this event that words don't seem adequate enough. Still I have to say that I feel so honored, so lucky that I was able to witness the event. I saw it. I know what happened because I watched it happen.

There are so many great events in history that very few ever witnessed. We know about it from books and perhaps there are photographs or paintings depicting the event but few people were there to see it happen. One of the greatest advantages of technology is that it brings us together and joins people from around the world and we're now able to witness history in a way that never would be possible without it. Watching the inauguration of the first African-American president of the United States was deeply touching and it was even more meaningful knowing that friends and family from around the world were able to see and experience it with me. For the rest of our lives no one will be able to take that away from us nor take away the emotions it stirred in us.

I'm so proud of my homeland. I'm so hopeful and optimistic for her future. I feel that one day when we reflect back on when the United States began on her new path of greatness we'll be able to point to this day as its beginning. And we're going to be able to say we were witness to it.

May God bless President Obama and guide him as he leads our nation. May God bless us all.

100 Things About Dixie - Part III

2009-01-19T22:57:00.003+01:00

Darling Mollie is amused no end by my previous lists of 100 things about me so as a treat for her and to commemorate my 47th birthday, here's the third (and final) list.

1. I don't like laying around all day in my pajamas. If someone calls and says "Let's go out to lunch" then all I want to have to do is grab my purse.
2. As a small child I didn't understand the idea that Kimberley was my whole first name. I was always called Kim so I thought the "berley" part was my middle name.
3. I wasn't given a middle name when I was born so number 2 isn't completely illogical for a four year old to believe.
4. Chocolate drink preferences in this order: Ovaltine, Bosco, Hershey's Syrup. Nesquik doesn't get a vote because of its lousy ability to dissolve completely. YooHoo is simply chocolate colored water.
5. If you look very closely at my high school senior portrait you'll see that I plucked one of my eyebrows so thin it's plucked clean in half.
6. I never eat in bed. The idea of breakfast in bed repulses me. Even while hospitalized I had to get up and eat sitting in a chair.
7. I only like McDonald's hamburgers for the itty bitty reconstituted onions on them.
8. I'd rather have my home electronics stolen than to have any of my Christmas ornaments lost.
9. I prefer to write with gel pens.
10. I wear lipstick all the time but hate lip balm unless I have chapped lips.
11. When I wear glasses, they're almost always smeary within ten minutes of putting them on.
12. I go to the zoo a few times a year but it always depresses me a bit.
13. I can barely remember how life was before I had Hungarian salami.
14. I like drinking at outdoor cafes but I would rather be indoors if I'm planning on eating anything.
15. I used to adore Claudio Pizarro but he broke my heart.
16. My first iPod is named Bixente. He's named after Bixente Lizarazu.
17. My current iPod is named Fletcher. He's named after one of my cousins.
18. I've seen Bixente Lizarazu more recently and perhaps more often than I have my cousin Fletcher.
19. I love filling out questionnaires. One of my greatest joys was my father letting me fill out our 1980 census because it was the long form.
20. I was terribly disappointed when in 1990 I got only the short form.
21. Bitter resentment remains now that I will never again get to fill out a US census form.
22. What I remember most about taking the ACT in high school was that I was terribly sick during the test and would have to go out and throw up during the breaks.
23. Still got a good enough score on it to get a little scholarship from of the universities to which I applied.
24. I'd rather deal with taking care of a pet than take care of houseplants.
25. As soon as I get on an airplane I set my watch to the time at my destination.
26. I have in my bathroom four different brands of shampoo and conditioner, all with different scents.
27. Using one brand of shampoo and another brand of conditioner is completely out of the question.
28. I cried when my mother sold her house and threw away the nearly thirty-five year old set of encyclopedias. I hadn't read each volume from cover to cover but I was close.
29. The most frequently used name of the women from whom I'm descended? Martha. Of the men? William.
30. If I could have any dress in the world I would have the first dress that Grace Kelly wears in Rear Window.
31. When I was a kid I used to bite off the plastic tipped ends of my mother's bobby pins.
32. I also would gnaw on the kohl wood furniture we had in the family room.
33. Evidently I needed more fiber in my diet. And petroleum products.
34. Chocolate drink preferences in this order (Part II): chocolate milkshake, chocolate malted milk, chocolate milk. YooHoo is still being shunned.
35. When I'm at home I like to drink my water from plastic cups.
36. Once I became an adult I couldn't wait to be summoned for jury duty.
37. I was very envious when my ex-husband got summoned for jury duty.
38. I was even more bummed out when he got selected to serve but the case was settled out of court.
39. When did I finally get summoned for jury duty? A year after I moved to Germany.
40. There was a time when I would not speak on the phone with strangers because it made me nervous.
41. If I snap my fingers my dog will stop what she's doing and come to me.
42. It wigs me out a bit that in Germany taxi drivers generally expect you to sit in the front seat.
43. The Lincoln Memorial at night is one of my favorite places in the world to be.
44. Jukeboxes are irresistible to me.
45. I always wanted Flintstones chewable vitamins when I was a kid. We got stuck with boring One-a-Day.
46. My favorite dress when I was in the first grade was a pink one my mother made. It was sewn from a Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang themed pattern.
47. The first movie I ever saw in a theater was Mary Poppins. The second was The Sound of Music.
48. Once when I had a sinus infection I had a fever so high that I became disoriented and was lost in my own house.
49. Being tipsy is fine. Being drunk weirds me out.
50. The contents of my dresser drawers looks like it's been stirred with a stick but everything in my wallet and purse must always be in its proper place.
51. I wish I could ice skate well despite the fact that I have never truly enjoyed any time I was ice skating.
52. Every home I've lived in since 1968 has had a front that faced east and a back that faced west.
53. Whenever I fly I always drink tomato juice.
54. If I see you using a kitchen knife with your index finger extended over the blade I may be very tempted to take that knife and use it on you.
55. I have a campaign button for every Democratic presidential nominee since Jimmy Carter.
56. At one time all German sounded the same to me but now I can recognize various regional accents.
57. Mmmmm...biscuits.
58. I envy people who can sketch.
59. There are maybe five poems that I like. Otherwise poetry bores the daylights out of me.
60. Chocolate drink preference (Part III): I've never had an egg cream but I have had chocolate sodas and they're disgusting. Like a YooHoo that fizzes.
61. Dixie cups seem like a waste of paper to me. Don't want to spread germs? Wash the glass when you're finished with it!
62. I'm terrible at selling anything because I am afraid of people telling me no. I couldn't even sell Girl Scout cookies because I was too scared to ask people if they'd like to buy them. Who in the world couldn't sell even one box of Girl Scout cookies?
63. I have shorter than normal pinky fingers.
64. I also have a larger than normal head.
65. And I have a small mouth and large eyes.
66. All things indicate that I'm actually an alien from outer space.
67. I prefer the word see-saw over teeter-totter.
68. I love the sound of a Zippo lighter being opened, lit, and then the lid being snapped shut again.
69. Wearing mittens freaks me out.
70. My fingers suffer from claustrophobia.
71. In my kitchen is a photograph of me and my friend, Lisa, eating a Dairy Queen peanut buster parfait sundae.
72. And a photograph of a grinning nun.
73. And a photograph of of a grinning sock monkey.
74. I have wine glasses that my MIL gave me on my wedding day. My MIL, on her wedding day, received them from her grandmother. And my MIL's grandmother originally received them on her wedding day.
75. They've never been used by anyone ever.
76. Whenever I see a swing set I'm always tempted to walk over and give them a go.
77. Before I moved to Europe you never would have been able to convince me that my three favorite sports to watch would be soccer, biathlon and team handball.
78. The first film I ever saw in a theater without one of my parents being present was The Poseidon Adventure.
79. I tell that little fact to my husband every single time I see that film being shown on television.
80. I pronounce the word "nostepinne" as "nos-te-pin-eh".
81. I predict that you're now saying "What in the hell is a "nostepinne"?
82. I dislike for my hands to be wet so washing dishes is quite an adventure for me.
83. Having to hold a piece of paper in my mouth, even for a moment, is a sure way to trigger my gag reflex.
84. I love driving over bridges. I could be one of those folks who people with gephyrophobia hire to drive them over bridges.
85. It's almost impossible for me to say no to my nieces and nephews. And they know it.
86. One of the more horrifying experiences of my life: wearing a strapless bra under a chiffon bridesmaid dress.
87. Best Flintstones episode ever: when Fred buys a stolen piano for Wilma for their wedding anniversary.
88. I love hearing stories about my husband's grandmother, Oma Friedchen.
89. Fly, do not test my patience. I virtually never miss when armed with a flyswatter.
90. I plant geraniums in my flower boxes each year which is somewhat amazing since I can't stand for dirt to be on my hands.
91. Two things I would indulge in if I were a multi-millionaire: travel and custom tailored clothes.
92. The only two rules about ice hockey I'm fairly certain about is that the puck has to go in the goal and it's not right to slap your opponent in the face with your stick. Otherwise I'm not too sure about how it all works.
93. I collect antique keys.
94. I use my cell phone as an alarm clock more than I use it as a telephone.
95. Every time I hear that someone loves Kraft Macaroni and Cheese I feel relieved that there's one other person out there who's willing to admit it.
96. I never knew how gruesome many Brothers Grimm fairy tales are until I read them in original German.
97. When watching the final credits in a film I have to look at who the catering company was to see if they have some clever, pun-based name.
98. My husband detests for me to snap my fingers around him. He's threatened to chew off my hands if I tease him with it.
99. I can go up on an escalator but I avoid going down on one unless I have absolutely no other choice.
100. I live on Broadway.

Friday Shuffle - Baby's First Shuffle Edition

2009-01-16T16:06:00.003+01:00

I've named him Fletcher.

For my birthday on Monday my wonderful husband has presented me with an red iPod nano and I feel pretty good about my decision to go with a nano instead of an iPod classic.

I thought at first that I'd pick the classic for the storage space and to use for data transfer but I know that I'd end up not really using it to its full capacity. I'd probably not use it to half capacity. We have already a 250 gig external hard drive and are likely going to buy another so that's what we use for backing up files and for data transfer. And while being able to carry around my whole iTunes library might be nice, I don't really want to do that. I don't watch video on my iPod, I don't tote around photos on my iPod and I simply don't want to carry around the complete works of Mozart on my iPod. Mozart can keep his ass at home.

The 16 gig nano seems to be more of what I want to use an iPod for. When I'm at home I listen to music straight from my computer. My iPod is for when I'm out shopping or on the streetcar or for when I'm exercising or when I'm in the kitchen. Sixteen gigs is more than enough space for me to load up a tremendous amount of songs and a few podcasts. And the size is just right. Slim and compact, he'll fit into just about any pocket. I'm not fond of lugging around with me a lot of stuff when I'm out so a portable size is just what I want.

And the cute factor. Did you see him? He's red! While it was very tempting to get the pink or purple nano (even the blue was quite tempting), I couldn't pass by the red. It's like red lipstick. Classic and beautiful and sure to be noticed.

Last night while watching There Will Be Blood I whipped out an iSock for Fletcher the iPod. I have so much scrap yarn I may be making a new one for him for each day of the month.

The screen on my old nano was so dinky that cover art wasn't of any real importance to me but with the larger screen and better resolution on Fletcher I knew I'd have to work on getting cover art for all the songs I have that are ripped from CDs. Lots I could get from iTunes but for more obscure things that weren't available I found the cover art from other sources and imported them to my iTunes. I can see having the correct cover art becoming an obsession with me.

So now that Fletcher the iPod has been tattooed (my husband had something engraved on Fletcher's back), received, loaded, cozied and now introduced to you, it's time for his most important function.

Time to shuffle.

Long Cool Woman - The Hollies
Since You Broke My Heart - The Everly Brothers
Miniature Sun - XTC
Houses Of The Holy - Led Zeppelin
How Did We Get From Saying I Love You... - Great Big Sea
Waiting Just For You - Blackmore's Night
Let's Be Friends (Skin To Skin) - Bruce Springsteen
Just A Memory - The Mavericks
Beautiful Dream - Adam Ant
Twist And Shout - The Beatles

He's new at the job but Fletcher already has the skill to shuffle up some of my all-time favorite musicians. I think he and I are going to get along beautifully for a long time to come.

Ugly Building, Beautiful Sentiment

2009-01-15T17:37:00.003+01:00

So what's on your agenda for the weekend? I've got to finish knitting a sock, do a bit of housework, bake a cake for my birthday on Monday and I'll be participating in a march against fascists. A convenient one too as the march will literally pass by my flat.

The view from my balcony isn't the best, mostly because across the street there's a truly hideous abandoned building. It was a once an office building for the city's school system but now it serves its function as being an eyesore. This building is the finest in East German boring, we're-interested-in-function-only design but right now I think it looks terrific.

In the windows are photographs of ordinary citizens of the city and the sign above them says Magdeburg zeigt Gesicht gegen Nazis! (Magdeburg shows its face against Nazis!). Below the photographs are the corporate sponsors of this project. Often times words like "Neo-Nazi" or "right wing extremists" are used to describe fascists but in this case there's no mincing of words. They mean Nazis and they're going to call them by their rightful name.

It's not a secret that the former East Germany has become a gathering point for fascists. High unemployment and disaffected young people make for easy pickings for those pushing their extremist agendas and while they're a minority, they still shout pretty loudly. They like to use the of the January 16th, 1945 anniversary bombing of Magdeburg, not as a way to remember those lost that night or speak of the horrors of war but to march and spread their message of intolerance and blame the ills of the world on those who aren't like them.

This year the city has planned for January 17th a day for all those who are tired of these shrill extremist voices. To protest their message of hate and and intolerance. There will be a pro-democracy march through the city in which all will be encouraged to participate. Afterward there will be all sorts of events - musical performances, skits, speeches, even vendors. The message is that Magdeburg is our city and we're not going to be frightened indoors by those who want to take us back in time seventy years. It's a bit of a mix between a civil protest and a carnival but the idea is to make supporting democracy and freedom a happy event.

This won't the first anti-Nazi protest in which I've participated. I've been to other counter demonstrations and shouted Nazis raus! (Nazis get out!) until I could no longer speak. I was glad for my participation but this time I feel more positive about taking part. This time there's the feeling that the city and its citizens and businesses are joining together for a common cause and banding together to stop hate.

Rumpled Dots

2009-01-13T22:42:00.004+01:00

Events are all scattered so the reporting of them will be all dotty.

Happy day. Package delivery lady was by here this morning. I think she's sweet on me because she brought me two books (The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb and When Will There Be Good News? by Kate Atkinson) and a small package from Apple. My new iPod has arrived. Introduction to him and his christening will be done on Friday.
Goodness knows I love sock knitting but dang do I need a break from it. I'm not sick of sock knitting as much as I'm sick of knitting socks under a time pressure. I don't like having to knit something because I've said I'll do it by a certain date. And if I want to knit a scarf or blanket instead I can't do it because I have a stupid sock knit-along with penalties attached that makes me knuckle under.
I just complained about sock knitting as though it were something of some real significance. Can you feature how I'd bitch if I had a real job with actual deadlines?
I often think that if I lived on one of those remote islands in the North Sea or along the coast of England that I'd be fine with it. One of those places where you're a couple miles from some little town that's not as big as a spot in the road. One of those places where it's stormy fairly often and you don't see folks for maybe a couple weeks at a stretch. If I had DVDs and yarn and my laptop I believe I'd be okay not seeing anyone for a while. I feel a little anti-social saying that but honestly I think I could be one of those crazy-ass lighthouse keepers.
Shit. I just remembered that I've got stuff in the washer than needs to be hung up. Should be nice and wrinkly by now.
I just added ironing to my to-do list for tomorrow. Later, taters!

It's Done

2009-01-11T23:45:00.003+01:00

My new birthday iPod has been ordered - B has just now finished the order. Up until then I've changed my mind so many times I've about stripped my gears.

The input from y'all has been most helpful and I considered it all - Dictator Princess, yours came in just in time for me to read and consider. And Katya, just for you I have mulled over getting an iTouch. I may as well give them all an equal shot for being my new music buddy.

I reckon I'll have my new iPod by the end of the week so I'll wait until it's here and ready to shuffle before the grand unveiling of which one I chose and what his new name will be. Picking what I wanted to have has been an exercise in careful decision making. I'm fairly certain I put less thought in choosing my first husband.

Friday Shuffle - Retirement's Coming Edition

2009-01-09T22:15:00.003+01:00

My birthday is coming up in a couple weeks and for my present B is going to give me a new iPod. Bixente the iPod, while being a faithful servant, is getting a bit of age on him. He's three years old and as he's an iPod nano it means that his capacity is limited. I've always had more music than he can hold but I'm starting to get a little tired of having to reload him so often. As much as I love Bixente, it's time for him to retire.

This has lead to B and I discussing ad nauseam which iPod I'll get. Initially a 16 gig nano seemed a good choice but then I took a look at the new 120 gig classic and I became torn. For just a bit more money I'd get a shitload more capacity but do I want something bigger and heavier to carry? And the cute factor - a red nano's cute factor cannot be underestimated. I have a pink cell phone that I bought because it's so damn cute.

It's finally come down to resorting to a pro and con list. Cuteness, capacity, price, ease of use, features, likelihood of using features, what I'll be using the iPod for, and so on have been written down and I've poured over the list. I haven't stared at a paper this closely since I studied for an 8:00 geology exam and I started at 7:15.

I think I've made my decision but I'll let you know my final decision when the new ones arrives. I have until Sunday to change my mind so if any of y'all want to give me something to consider (no, Katya - I'm not getting an iTouch to guinea pig for you!), pipe up and let me know what it is. After that B will be ordering the iPod of my choice and it'll be too late.

And then comes the sad part. When my new iPod arrives, Bixente the iPod will be put out to pasture. I get pretty attached to things like my iPod - at least enough to name things after short French soccer players - so getting a new one is a bit emotional for me. And I'll have to think of a new name with which to christen the new iPod but I have to admit now that it's going to be hard to top a name as good as Bixente.

Your time's running out, Bixente. Better get to shuffling.

Louisiana Saturday Night - The Benjy Davis Project
While You Wait - Mark McAdam
You Don't Love Me - The Kooks
Lola - Travis
The Great Escape - The Rifles
Pedestal - Bombay Bicycle Club
Keeping Mistakes - Look See Proof
Two Silver Trees - Calexico
All That Heaven Will Allow - The Mavericks
I'll Follow The Sun - The Beatles

Bundle Up

2009-01-07T23:57:00.003+01:00

The new year is seven days old and already we're in the throes of malaise. I'd like to go shopping - we're looking for a new TV and maybe a new laptop for me - but it's too cold to go out. Being too cold to go out is the new, all-purpose excuse for everything. Shopping? Too cold to go out. Go visit friends? Too cold to go out. Go for a walk and burn off the shitload of fried fish and bratwurst I consumed during the five weeks the Christmas market was open? Too cold to go out. Plus I need this extra layer of fish and bratwurst fat to insulate me from the cold. I'd like to use the too-cold-to-go-out excuse for things such as why the oven is scrudgy inside and why my laundry is a bit backed up but no one's buying it.

But it is terribly cold out. Overnight it gets to be -20°C which is enough to make all the news programs foam at the mouth about how Arschkalt it is outside and makes my Ukrainian neighbors laugh their asses off at our pansy-ness.

I limit myself to venturing outdoors once a day - twice if I forget to take the trash out with me the first time. I go start the car to make sure the battery doesn't freeze up. I'm not sure if this actually helps but it makes me feel useful and important. While I run the car I sit in it shivering and wishing I had a cigarette to pass the time but that would be bad and very wrong of me so I simply sit and feel my booty growing numb despite any layers of fish and bratwurst insulation. After my Toyota's engine has been invigorated I pick my way over to the bakery for the day's bread. My insane fear of slipping on the ice and dislocating my elbows - which isn't all that insane since I once watched a former workmate slip on ice and dislocate her elbow - has me walking as though I'm 110 years old and am holding an orange between my knees.

Once home I burrow in like a hedgehog and entertain myself by wiping down the condensation on the windows a dozen times a day, making various cold-day-cuisine dishes (chili! beef stew! goulash!), and watching the thermometer fall. Watching it sink by 1.7 degrees in 20 minutes as we ate supper was a high point. Conversation in my home now features topics such as speculating about how frozen the Elbe river is (I live about four blocks from the Elbe - I could just walk over and see for myself but it's too cold to go out) and congratulating myself on how my sufficiently stocking up on groceries has enabled me not to have to go out in the cold.

And it's only early January. Heaven help us.

All In Eight Weeks

2009-01-05T21:14:00.004+01:00

I'm not fond of reading in German. I can but when I'm reading for pleasure I want it to actually be a pleasure and not an exercise in figuring out what that particular turn of phrase means. That's the worst part of learning a foreign language to me - learning all the idioms.

But after reading A Woman in Berlin in English I wanted to read it in original language so I bummed the book from B's physiotherapist and read it. I was so absorbed with the book in English that I felt the need to read it as the author originally wrote it. The English translation is, to me, very good but somehow reading it in German gave me a bit more immediacy.

The author of A Woman in Berlin is anonymous except to just a couple people responsible for the publishing of her diary. This diary, starting just as the Russian troops move into Berlin at the end of World War II ends just two months later and yet it feels as if much more time has passed. In the diary, written to clear her mind of the daily events that would threaten to drive anyone mad, she writes of hiding from the allied bombs, rape - sometimes gang rape - at the hands of Russian soldiers, lack of food, water, electricity, money and the uncertainty of her future.

It would be easy to, especially after the debacles of A Million Little Pieces and more recently the revelation that the Holocaust love story of the Rosenblats was made up, to suspect that this diary may be contrived. One may believe that it's too well written to be dashed off with pencil stubs by candlelight in notebooks she found in her borrowed apartment until one reads that the author was a professional journalist. Another compelling reason to believe in the authenticity of the diary is that it reads like an actual diary - one written as the events are happening. There is little reflection and no real chance to put events into perspective because she has not had the opportunity to sit and put things into perspective. She writes of rape but doesn't dwell on the horror of it, though surely that was to come later. She talks of her hunger but spends more time working on ways to get food than lamenting about her lack of it. Survival for another day is paramount in that time and place and the future doesn't extend to much more than the next week.

It was first published in the 1950s and not in German until a few years later and then was not well received. Germany wasn't ready to yet talk about what happened during the war - their guilt and shame. Hundreds of thousands of rapes took place and speaking the truth of what happened wasn't done for decades - the shame and horror was too great. This diary speaks the truth of what the author experienced before there was as much shame attached to the events.

What the diary also does is allows us to now look at events of the war that have been pushed aside and even forgotten. That those on the good side weren't always good and those on the bad side weren't always bad and that atrocities occurred on both sides. Perhaps we can now speak about them instead of ignoring and forgetting that they occurred.

I've had the opportunity since living in Germany to speak to some men but mostly to women who lived through those times. I had a neighbor who was forced from her home in what was then Germany but what now is Poland to refugee west. On that march west she and her sister and her mother were subjected to rape and beatings from Russian troops on a daily basis - her sister and her mother died from it. Another neighbor of mine, now in her 90s, has spoken to me of how Magdeburg was after it was bombed and how they were happy to find dandelions to eat.

They're not pleasant stories. They're interesting but certainly not entertaining. And in this world were there are conflicts in the middle east and Africa and central Asia we can imagine some of those people are enduring some of the same hardships that the author of A Woman in Berlin endured. But if there's one inspirational thought to keep it's that the author did endure - she lived she was in her 90s. Somehow people can be subjected to the worst there is to offer and still survive.

Friday Shuffle - Does Anyone Really Know What Time It Is? Edition

2009-01-02T22:04:00.004+01:00

I'm at that funny point of the year where I'm consistently confused about time. It gets dark so early so I always think it's later than it is. Add into that mix the fact that three of my radio controlled clocks are getting bad signals and never read the right time. In my kitchen the clock is three hours slow, in my living room it's two hours and twelve minutes slow and the clock on my stereo is five hours and one minute too fast. I'm not yet used to what year we're in and the lingering Christmas ornaments keep making me think it's late December. And three straight weeks with holidays tucked in here and there doesn't help. For three days now I've thought it was Friday and now that I'm straight again we'll have a holiday on Tuesday and I'll be bollocksed up again for days.

What's a peach to do but stay in, stay warm, knit and read? Oh. And shuffle.

Hit it Bixente.

Prince Charming - Adam Ant
You Find A Way - Graham Colton
Middle Of Nowhere - Hot Hot Heat
Happy Together - The Turtles
Cynical Girl - Marshall Crenshaw
What Light - Wilco
Challengers - The New Pornographers
Liebeslied - Madsen
Little Latin Lupe Lu - Mitch Ryder & The Detroit Wheels
Ragged Wood - Fleet Foxes

Not Creepy. Quirky.

2008-12-30T22:07:00.005+01:00

One of the first books not written for children I ever became fascinated with was a book my family had about US presidents. It was published by National Geographic (my father was big into National Geographic) and the book had lots of pictures. Portraits and drawings and cartoons of all the men who had been presidents up until that time - which meant the book only went up to Lyndon Johnson. Before I had even started kindergarten I was quite familiar with what our past leaders looked like - and their wives as well. Over the years, especially once I'd learned to read well enough to read a book like that, I would pull that book off the shelf and pour over it. And once I learned to read I was a bit disappointed to find out that Eleanor Roosevelt had not been a president but had only been married to one - the extra attention paid to her in the book fooled me.

I credit that book with starting me on my fascination with US presidents and the US presidency in general. I've read all sorts of biographies of presidents and early in life I learned to name all the presidents in order. Even now when I have trouble falling asleep I name all the presidents in order. I can tell when I'm starting to get sleepy because I'll forget who the thirteenth and fourteenth presidents were (Millard Fillmore and Franklin Pierce - likely I forget them because they were forgettable as presidents. Fillmore was never even elected president and Pierce just plain sucked at the job). My passion for the presidency expanded to a fascination with presidential trivia and then to presidential assassinations. The combination of the two - presidential assassination trivia - is practically intoxicating to me. No detail is too obscure or weird for me.

My friends have learned to accept my somewhat macabre interest. My husband has learned to actually embrace it. The US presidency isn't something he learned much about during his education so anything I have to say about it is new and interesting to him and if I'm talking about the assassination of a president, he's even more interested. It's politics and true crime all wrapped together. And as proof that my husband indeed knows me, as one of my Christmas gifts he bought for me Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell.

Sarah Vowell is proof that I am not unique in my fascination and interest in the assassination of presidents. In her book she takes various road trips, sometimes dragging her somewhat reluctant friends along, to visit various museums, landmarks, cemeteries, parks, and in the case of the place where John Wilkes Booth was killed, a roadside shrine as she writes about the assassinations of Abraham Lincoln, James A. Garfield and William McKinley. In short she did what I've done myself - in the case of Lincoln, that is. I have taken advantage of the years I lived in the Washington, DC area and have visited lots of the landmarks involved in the assassination - Ford's Theater, the Petersen house where Lincoln died, the Surratt tavern in Maryland, the Surratt boarding house in DC, and about 20 years ago a took a tour where you travel the escape route of John Wilkes Booth. She pokes around, asks questions and in general makes road trips involving the murder of heads of state sound fun. And to me it would be fun! That's my kind of road trip! Going to see an exhibit showing a bit of John Wilkes Booth's thorax is something you wouldn't have to even dream of talking me into doing. Just say "John Wilkes Booth's thorax" and I would be grabbing my purse. Sarah Vowell's writing about these offbeat trips is interesting, relevent and rather funny. It's part history lesson, part pilgrimage and I am all envious that I wasn't with her when she made these little jaunts to see the (sometimes literal) bits and pieces that make up US history. It was comforting in a way to know that there is someone else out there who shares my quirky interest and for whom no detail is too minute.

And just in case Sarah Vowell Googles her name and finds this post, let me say this to her: I'm with you. John Wilkes Booth was undeniably handsome and would it be wrong to me to say that Lewis Powell was kinda hot? I mean for a guy who slashed up a secretary of state and all.

Petty and Petulant

2008-12-29T23:11:00.002+01:00

Kinda like Martin and Lewis.

I was thrilled for my kin but I couldn't help but feel a little butthurt and envious and homesick that when I called over to my sister's house last night, everyone was there. All my siblings, my mother, my nieces and nephews, my favorite aunt and cousins. All family reunion-y and I was 5,000 miles away.

I, however, did not take my pissiness to a higher degree. I did not secretly celebrate that my brother's oldest son wasn't there either. You can't be secretly happy that someone else in the family was missing all the fun when the reason that person was missing is because he's in the Navy. Even Petty and Petulant draws the line somewhere.

Friday Shuffle - One For The Road Edition

2008-12-26T21:58:00.002+01:00

Christmas this year was nearly perfect. Only nearly perfect because it's hard to be thousands of miles away from beloved family and friends but I have no real reason to complain. I was spoiled with lovely gifts, had many lovely things to eat and drink, have a warm, comfortable home and the ability to call the US for 1.4 cents a minute. Score!

There's one last chance to shuffle for 2008 so let's get to it. Bixente, do your thing.

One Day Like This - Elbow
Tiger Mountain Peasant Song - Fleet Foxes
Keep Me In Mind - Little Joy
Frankie's Gun! - The Felice Brothers
If He Should Ever Leave You - Tom Jones
Intervention - Arcade Fire
Tonight I Have To Leave It - Shout Out Louds
Love Is Like A Butterfly - Dolly Parton
Cash Machine - Hard-Fi
Windy - The Association

Weep. Weep for Me.

2008-12-21T22:27:00.004+01:00

I think I got a little cocky. It's December 21st and since it's a mere few days before Christmas I think I got a little cocky. Let down my guard. Started feeling invincible and it caught up with me.

Late this afternoon I was changing B's shirt. We were listening to the music channels on our digital TV service, specifically to the Christmas music channel - all Christmas music for all of December. All I wanted to do was change B's shirt, a process I can do in sixty or seventy seconds, and then I was going to change the TV to watch the evening news. There I was, up to my elbows in husband, completely vulnerable and helpless to defend myself when it happened.

I heard the opening notes of Last Christmas.

What could I do? Throw down my husband? Leave him half strangled in a tee-shirt while I dove for the remote control? It wouldn't have done any good anyway. As spry as I may be, I had no chance to ward off the whiney, breathy voice of George Michael pissing and moaning about his old love who dumped him and who wouldn't, George?

I was so close. So, so close. Up until then I had been freely walking through the Christmas market, untouched by Wham! In and out of the mall and department store and grocery stores, completely Wham! free. I was nearly to the Christmas season finish line when I was assaulted. Assaulted in my own home. Wham! waited until I was helping a handicapped man - caring for my quadriplegic husband - to sneak in and catch me.

Shame on you, Wham! Shame on you.

Friday Shuffle - Just Around the Corner Edition

2008-12-19T21:45:00.005+01:00

Please, let me be the ninety-jillionth person you've heard utter the words "Yikes! Christmas is next week? It's coming up so fast!". Actually I keep going back and forth between "Holy crap, Christmas Eve is Wednesday and I still have stuff to do before then!" and "Oh pooh - Christmas Eve ain't until Wednesday - I still have plenty of time to do everything."

Some things that have cropped up for me lately:

I got a notice from the post office that a package from the US is waiting for me at the customs office. I'm fairly certain it's my Christmas gift from my sister because she said she sent me something from Amazon. Only problem is that she had it sent from Amazon.com and not Amazon.de or Amazon.co.uk so that means I'm probably going to have to pay customs on it. If something is sent to me directly from the seller it doesn't count as a gift so that means I have a lower value limit before paying customs than if it were sent directly from the person giving the gift. I also didn't get the notice until ten minutes before the customs office closed for the weekend so on Monday morning when I should be doing holiday baking I'll instead being driving to the other end of town to bail my Christmas present out of customs jail. Now let's all wish for the giving spirit of Christmas to be with the customs agent so that he lets me slide and I don't have to pay a customs bill that's the equivalent of my weekly grocery bill.
Some thoughtful person, obviously someone who knows just what I find to be amusing and knows my sort of entertainment, kindly left under my windshield wiper an advertisement for a "porno karaoke" event to be held at a local club on Saturday night. It's karaoke! It's porno! It's two treats in one! What would porno karaoke entail anyway? Do they show porno flicks and you stand up in front of the crowd with a microphone and provide the moaning and panting? Do you get up and perform pornographic acts while singing Hit Me With Your Best Shot? I'm very tempted to go down to that club on Saturday night. Not to find out what porno karaoke is but to find the person who put the ad on my windshield. It rained this morning which soaked the little card advert. I found the ad after the rain had stopped and the winds had dried the card to the windshield and I spent ten minutes trying to scrape it off with my thumbnail. Finding the person responsible and beating him with a microphone while he moans in time with the music is what I'd like to do but I realize it wouldn't be in keeping with the spirit of the season.
I can't figure out my holiday baking schedule. If I bake this weekend I'm afraid that we (read: I) may end up eating all the cookies before the holiday. If I wait until Tuesday to bake then I'm afraid I may be terribly busy that day and the baking won't get done at all. The solution may be to bake on Sunday and then lock them away, giving B the key.
I've made it all the way to December 19th and I have yet to hear Last Christmas. Suck it, George Michael!

Time to shuffle.

There She Goes Again - Beat Farmers
Teach Your Children - Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young
Cold As Ice - Foreigner
Sub-Rosa Subway - Klaatu
3's & 7's - Queens of the Stone Age
Language City - Wolf Parade
Eddie's Gun - The Kooks
Dear Sarah - Scott Miller & The Commonwealth
Cult Of Personality - Living Colour
Gravity Fails - The Bottle Rockets

Lottie's Home

2008-12-18T21:29:00.003+01:00

Last fall when I went to Mississippi to visit my family my sock monkey, Lottie, came along for the trip. My friends adore her and she's gone home with friends to visit with them for a while.

The most recent visit was with my friend, Ashley, in North Carolina and I am happy to report that Lottie had all sorts of adventures including horseback riding and a parabolic flight.

Years ago it was common for fashionable young ladies to spend a year abroad with a beloved auntie and that's pretty much what Lottie's been up to. Finally it was time for Lottie to come home to me and Ashley asked how to get her here. I replied that she should tuck Lottie in a box and send her that way and while it was a perfectly logical answer, Ashley felt bad about putting Lottie in a box and trusting her to the US and German postal services. I'm more than half convinced that if she wasn't up to her neck in work Ashley would have bought a ticket to Germany and delivered her to my doorstep in person.

As it was, Ashley was truly the doting auntie and when Lottie arrived yesterday I found that Lottie had been supplied by Ash with her own custom made clothes.

Lottie arrived dressed in a smart-looking travel outfit:

Note the sweet little sock monkeys on her blouse and how the monkey in the center is lined up exactly on both sides of the blouse:

And her little twill trousers even have their own snap closure and teeny tiny zipper:

For more country-style outings Lottie has a pair of figure-flattering overalls and cotton blouse:

Note the decorative stitching on the straps - the same stitching can be found as well on the cuffs.

Lottie shows her American patriotism and sense of whimsical style with this fun summer dress:

And she's the picture of elegance in this ivory gown:

It's been over a year since Lottie's been home and I've missed her terribly. And now we may have to make a trip together to the Christmas market.

Each Year The Same

2008-12-17T21:58:00.004+01:00

We've reached the part of the preparations for Christmas that I dread. Not the decorating or the shopping or the wrapping of gifts. Instead I dread the package delivery service and grocery shopping.

Considering that I live overseas from friends and family and that we do most of our Christmas shopping online, the package delivery folks come by here a lot. We're now at the point in the season where packages come virtually every day. And as nothing is perfect, I can't always count on the package delivery folks coming at the same time each day. If one day a package arrives at 10:30 and I'm expecting another to come the next day, I can't bank on the second one being delivered at 10:30. The person who normally delivers packages to my building is a lady and she's seen me in every state of dress, my hair in curlers, with wet hair, with dust rags and mops in hand - she's even seen me without my eyebrows penciled in. The only other people allowed to see me without my eyebrows penciled in are related to me by blood or marriage. Of course waiting for packages to come cramps up my morning schedule and it's only a matter of time before I get it wrong and she comes to bring me goodies while I'm in the shower deep conditioning my hair.

Tomorrow I'll have to do the last big trip to the grocery store before Christmas. I have my list made but it doesn't stop me from fearing that I'll forget something and either have to venture to the grocery store on Christmas Eve morning to get butter or avail myself of a gas station mini-mart. Or even worse, the mini-mart in the train station where a half pound of butter will run you in the neighborhood of $4. And all grocery shopping - anything that requires me to use my car, really - must be complete by noon. 1:00 at the very latest. Else I risk not having any place to park when I get back home because all of the parking in on my street fills up fast once the Christmas market opens. I'll be running the gauntlet of getting to the grocery store and back before it's too late for me to get a parking space but not going so early that I miss package delivery.

After Christmas my frustrations will change. That's when it moves to getting rid of the cardboard boxes that once housed all the things that were shipped to me and dodging fourteen year old boys with New Years firecrackers.

Three Hours and Three Hundred Swear Words Later

2008-12-14T21:45:00.002+01:00

...I can present to you this!

I believe it turned out pretty well considering I was drinking apple martinis and eating cashews while putting it together.

Friday Shuffle - Drive By Shuffle Edition

2008-12-12T21:55:00.003+01:00

Holiday preparation slump seems to have subsided and I'm fully in the throes of the Christmas spirit. Most of my shopping is finished - all the overseas gifts have been bought and shipped and all that's left is the easy shopping...something for B and a little something for my MIL and Gerd. Stuff I can grab any day early in the morning when the shops aren't so mad.

Otherwise this weekend it's a fairly full schedule. There's some organizing I need to do in order to get furniture and houseplants rearranged to fit in our Christmas tree and then the actual putting up and decorating of the tree. I'm already planning in my mind how I want to do the garland. I have pearl beads that I use for garland each year. B insists that I use the pearl garland. It's one of his favorite parts of the tree decor. For the past three Christmases I've been using with it gold ribbon - the sort edged with wire, it being put on the tree in a rather casual, oh-look-some-gold-ribbon-just-happened-to-blow-around-the-tree sort of way but this year I believe I'll skip the ribbon and do double strands of the pearl beads. Just a little insight to the things I think about during the course of my day.

Must dash. I've made a pitcher of apple martinis, pulled out a bag of pretzel sticks and now I'm going to cuddle up with my husband and watch a Christmas movie. White Christmas I believe. Let's shuffle.

Baby Let's Play House - Elvis Presley
Joy Ride - The Killers
In The Morning - Razorlight
It's A Shame About Ray - The Lemonheads
The Right Place - The Derailers
Heaven Sent - Hinder
You're A God - Vertical Horizon
Heavy - Collective Soul
Promise Of Summer - Jackopierce
Thing Called Love - Bonnie Raitt

Midpoint

2008-12-10T21:49:00.003+01:00

I'm at that point in my Christmas preparations where I'm losing some of my enthusiasm. I liken it to when I take a road trip. I love the first part where I'm all excited about embarking my trip and I'm anticipating all the fun. I love the end where I reach my destination. However about halfway into the trip I begin to lose my initial enthusiasm. The scenery isn't catching my attention and I'm tired of nasty highway rest stops and I can't get shit on the radio that isn't Oak Ridge Boys-ish or a farm report. It passes soon enough but in the meantime it's hard not to just pull over and say "Screw it!".

I'm now down to the boring, on-the-verge-of-being-annoying Christmas shopping. The stuff I need to pick up for our doctors and B's physiotherapist and assorted extended family. I always feel quite clueless when doing this bit of shopping. I set out hoping to be inspired by seeing some sort of clever gift idea but usually end up buying something that just won't be out-and-out embarrassing to present them. Today it was shopping for our family doctor (Two silk scarves and a box of Lindt chocolates. My prediction? She'll regift the scarves but eat the chocolates.) and for B's dermatologist (A bottle of Vueve Clicquot champagne) and all I could really think about is getting home and curling up on the sofa because right now my stomach has been extra wonky. I can't even drink tea without it giving me stomach cramps. I don't have time for sofa curling though because I still need to do some gift shopping, have to get groceries, and find somewhere to store my yucca palm so I can get my Christmas tree up. I hate that yucca palm. I'd saw it in half and chuck it in the biodegradable trash bin except my MIL bought it for me for my birthday three years ago. Stupid tree. The leaves are always stabbing me.

It's just the mid-season whine mixed in with a hefty dose of stomach virus. By the time the weekend rolls around and I decorate my tree and completely plan out my Christmas baking I'll be more enthusiastic. Hope my stomach gets better soon though because for every day I have a wonky stomach I am missing an opportunity to have crispy fish as the Christmas market.

Envelopes of Cute

2008-12-08T21:11:00.003+01:00

I love to get little goodies in the mail. When I was a kid I'd get all charged up when the Christmas Seals would come in the mail for us to stick on the backs of Christmas cards. I liked the free address labels too. I even got a thrill out of the teeny tiny red pencil that would come in a solicitation for Time Magazine.

Today I was showered with treats in my mail. The first envelope was from my friend, Karen.

A few weeks ago I'd made a comment on a online forum she and I both visit that what sucked about voting absentee is that you don't get a groovy little "I voted!" sticker to wear all day long. Karen, not wanting me to miss out, offered to send me hers. Still on the wax paper and everything.

Isn't that a scream that she sent me that sticker? I collect campaign buttons (I have one for every Democratic candidate going back to Jimmy Carter) so this will fit right in with my collection. Then for an added treat she sent me this bracelet:

Karen's sister, Ginni, bravely battle breast cancer for over ten years until she ended her fight in April, 2005. For many years now Karen has worked hard to raise money for breast cancer awareness and research and this bracelet was for the Race for the Cure team in Ginni's honor. Ginni was someone who taught me bravery and dignity and strength and grace and so having this bracelet to remind me of her and to remind me of how Ginni lived makes me very happy.

My other envelope was also from America. I participate in some sock knit-alongs where I have to complete at least one pair of socks each month. In one of the knit-alongs the names of those who complete socks for that month are entered into a random drawing with knitting goodies as the prize. My ~~obsession with~~ ~~slavish devotion to~~ commitment to sock knitting paid off when I won this:

Perfect since I'd been looking for orange sock yarn. With the sock yarn were these:

Stitch markers. They're great to have so you can place one between stitches in your knitting to remind you to do something like an increase or decrease when you come around to the marker or they can demarcate pattern repeats. You didn't get that, did you? Okay. They're great because they're pretty and cute.

And that's what I've always loved best about little goodies in the mail. The cuteness of them.

Friday Shuffle - Low Motivation Edition

2008-12-05T22:03:00.003+01:00

There's been a bit of can't-be-arsedness here this week. I'm not bored but I'm not feeling very adventuresome. I go thorough my daily routines and all but my need to break out and discover something new has waned.

But I haven't been completely lazy. The following is what I could be arsed to do this week.

Clean the gunk out of my bathroom drain. I almost have to have a pep talk and a shot of tequila before embarking on this task. I have long hair. I love my long hair. But my long hair being anywhere but on my head skeeves me out no end. Having it stuck in the drain mixed with other assorted crud is skeevier still. I get less skeeved out watching surgery on those medical shows.
Win for B 8€ on an online game site. Showing off my mad trivia skillz again.
Order for myself some new pajamas. Because constantly hitching up my pajama bottoms due to their elastic waistbands being completely shot rather defeats the purpose of wanting to wear comfy jammies.
Go to the Christmas market every day this week. Sometimes to just pick up something for supper (ohhh my sweet, lucious, crispy fried fish!), sometimes just to grab a cup of cocoa and sit and watch the folks until my rear grows numb from the cold.
Figure out how I was going to knit the sock I'm working on so that it'll fit my somewhat chunky leg and then narrow down to fit my more normal sized ankle and foot.
Go through my Christmas music and remove stuff from Bixente the iPod that I'm just not too nuts about.

Speaking of my little sweetheart, Bixente, it's time to shuffle.

Feels Like Music - Tom Jones
Papa Loves Mambo - Perry Como
No New Tale To Tell - Love and Rockets
Our Love - Rhett Miller
Scary Old World - Radney Foster & Chely Wright
For Your Love - The Yardbirds
D Is For Dangerous - Arctic Monkeys
Watusi Rodeo - Guadalcanal Diary
Tired Of England - Dirty Pretty Things
Shakin' - Eddie Money

Low Profile

2008-12-04T00:21:00.004+01:00

"What's with you?" you say. "Think you can post for thirty days straight and then just duck out of sight? That's not the way it works 'round these parts, missy!".

It's just that I've been keeping myself under the radar. Catching up on the knitting I've gotten behind with. Trying to finish an excellent book that I'm enjoying but can't seem to find enough time to read. Getting my Christmas decorations up and getting this cluttered flat straightened up. Trying to figure out what to buy for B's doctors and therapists for Christmas.

And I've been trying to avoid hearing the Christmas song I hate most in the world. I don't even want to mention which song it is because that would be like summoning the devil but you'll know it when I finally do hear it. The scream rising from my throat is bound to be heard all over the world.

My Top Five - Part VI

2008-11-30T22:37:00.005+01:00

It's First Advent Sunday, all my Christmas decorations (minus the tree) are out, our city's Christmas market is open and it's the last day of NaBloPoMo.

Here's are the last of my favorites.

Favorite Snacks
1. Popcorn
2. Nachos
3. Chips and salsa
4. Chex mix
5. Cherry tomatoes with pepper

Favorite Breakfast Foods
1. Bacon
2. Biscuits
3. Grits
4. Waffles
5. Scrambled eggs

Favorite Things to Buy
1. Sock yarn
2. Lipstick
3. Books
4. CDs
5. Candles

Favorite Albums
1. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band - The Beatles
2. Darkness on the Edge of Town - Bruce Springsteen
3. London Calling - The Clash
4. Who's Next - The Who
5. At Folsom Prison - Johnny Cash

Favorite Scents
1. Peaches
2. Lemons
3. Cinnamon
4. Ocean
5. Fresh cut grass

Favorite Animals
1. Koala
2. Dolphin
3. Dogs
4. Tiger
5. Penguin

I hope y'all have been taking notes. There could possibly be a quiz later.

My Top Five - Part V

2008-11-29T22:35:00.003+01:00

Finishing off the month and finishing off NaBloPoMo with the last weekend of lists of favorites.

Favorite Cartoons
1. Bugs Bunny
2. The Flintstones
3. Penelope Pitstop
4. Scooby Doo
5. Road Runner

Favorite Christmas Songs
1. O Holy Night
2. Silent Night
3. Petit Papa Noël
4. I'll Be Home For Christmas
5. Leise Rieselt Der Schnee

Favorite Cookies
1. Toll House
2. Snickerdoodles
3. Peanut Butter
4. Pecan Shortbread
5. Lemon Wafer

Favorite Card Games
1. Rummy
2. Spades
3. Hearts
4. Poker
5. Blackjack

Favorite Childhood Books
1. Little House Series by Laura Ingalls Wilder
2. Charlotte's Web by E .B. White
3. Stuart Little by E. B. White
4. Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell
5. Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis

Favorite Sandwiches
1. Club
2. BLT
3. Peanut butter, banana and mayonnaise
4. Bacon, egg and cheese
5. Tuna

Friday Shuffle - No Fluff, All Business Edition

2008-11-28T22:41:00.004+01:00

Completed socks!

Yarn stuff:
Pattern: Tidal Wave
Yarn: Regia Galaxy Color
Colorway: 1555

Time's a wastin'. Let's get to shufflin'!

Live To Tell The Tale - Nightwish
Love Is Noise - The Verve
Bound - Christopher Jak
Untouchable - Glenn Tilbrook
Glad All Over - The Dave Clark Five
Alex Chilton - The Replacements
Bikini Girls With Machine Guns - The Cramps
Books From Boxes - Maximo Park
(Now And Then There's) A Fool Such As I - Raul Malo
Jack Ass Ginger - Poi Dog Pondering

Idle Curiosity

2008-11-27T21:33:00.002+01:00

I wonder how many NaBloPoMo participants have posted on their blog for today, "Happy Thanksgiving!" and called it a day?

Whatever that number is, add one more.

Regardless of whether or not you celebrate Thanksgiving today, I hope your life is filled with an insane amount of blessings. So many that it defies counting.

Anyone got any leftover sweet potato pie for a homesick Mississippian in Germany?

While You Digest Your Turkey Tomorrow

2008-11-26T21:49:00.004+01:00

...or anything else you may ingest, especially if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving on that particular day - why not whip up a tacky holiday sweater? No actual knitting required, just the ability to be as gaudy as possible.

And admit it. You've owned at least one of your own holiday sweaters, complete with frolicking reindeer, garlands of holly and creepy Santas.

Breaking From the Norm

2008-11-25T22:22:00.003+01:00

I made an Advent wreath today. I had one that I'd bought about a year after I'd moved to Germany but it got all ratty and I hated to find the right candles for it. Little stump candles that couldn't be but so tall and so wide and I got all freaked out when they burned down too low. I have a healthy fear of house fires. Instead I wanted an Advent wreath that used tea lights. You see, aside from the fire hazard thing, using regular stump candles, or tapers if that's what your particular advent wreath takes, means that the candles will be uneven from week to week. You light the first candle and you have the choice of either using it for just a little while and then blowing it out and therefore having successively uneven candle lengths from week to week or replacing the candle with a new one each week when the next candle is lit. As I'm a bit of a freak for symmetry, the uneven candles drive me nuts. Tea lights? Always even. Light it and burn it until it's empty. Throw in a fresh one the following Sunday. Heck, burn it every day - no uneven candles!

Uneven Advent candles are what passes for a worry in my world.

Yesterday I found this little arrangement. Just the metal tray with the candle holders. The tray is deep enough that I could fill it with any number of little doo-dads - greenery or beads or pine cones or whatever strikes my fancy. I could change its look every year if I choose. And it takes tea lights. Excellent find!

Today I went to the One Euro shop (where, natch!, everything costs just a euro!), got some plastic miniature balls (prediction: someone will Google "plastic miniature balls" and become sorely disappointed when the conversation is about Advent decor) and some little felt cut-outs, found in my spare bedroom closet some fake spruce garland that I could cut a couple pieces from and in a couple minutes I had a new Advent wreath.

B got all balky about it because it's not all "wreathy". He called it "cake pan-y". I considered acting all put out and insulted but instead have adopted the attitude that it is innovative and instead of being traditional I'm being visionary. And symmetrical.

Time For My Annual Addiction

2008-11-24T21:11:00.002+01:00

Christmas Tiles.

B found these online about eight years ago and got me hooked ono them. When it gets to be Thanksgiving time in the US, I start playing Christmas Tiles.

Back when B first found this game he didn't wear glasses but he needed to. He couldn't really see the tiles clearly so he made up his own names for the pictures on the tiles. The mittens became the upside down heart. The blue gift became the blue diamond. The snowman became the light bulb. The string of lights became the chunky necklace. The elf wasn't just an elf but became instead the evil elf. The sled was renamed the ladder and the ice skate became a semi-automatic pistol. Because, presumably, nothing says "Merry Christmas!" quite like a semi-automatic pistol. My favorite picture interpretation? The fireplace with the stockings hanging became the wrinkly faced old woman looking out of a window. You have to love that sort of imagination.

I predict two things if you play Christmas Tiles. You'll become addicted to the game and will call me the devil for getting you turned on to it. And you'll adopt B's names for the tiles.

My Top Five - Part IV

2008-11-23T21:57:00.003+01:00

Let's just continue on with the movie theme.

Favorite Movies Adapted From Books
1. To Kill a Mockingbird
2. Schindler's List
3. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy
4. Gone With the Wind
5. The Shawshank Redemption

Favorite Comedies
1. This is Spinal Tap
2. Raising Arizona
3. Animal House
4. M*A*S*H
5. Breaking Away

Favorite Christmas Movies
1. Love Actually
2. It's a Wonderful Life
3. White Christmas
4. Miracle on 34th Street
5. A Christmas Story

Favorite Classic Actors
1. James Stewart
2. Gregory Peck
3. Henry Fonda
4. Paul Newman
5. Cary Grant

Favorite Classic Actresses
1. Teresa Wright
2. Bette Davis
3. Katharine Hepburn
4. Myrna Loy
5. Judy Garland

Favorite Movie Songs
1. Over the Rainbow (Wizard of Oz)
2. Mrs. Robinson (The Graduate)
3. Cabaret (Cabaret)
4. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (Meet Me in St. Louis)
5. Edelweiss (The Sound of Music)

Favorite Detective Movies
1. Chinatown
2. L.A. Confidential
3. The Maltese Falcon
4. Seven
5. The Silence of the Lambs

Movies I've Seen Most Often
1. Gone With the Wind
2. The Wizard of Oz
3. Rear Window
4. It's a Wonderful Life
5. The Best Years of Our Lives

My Top Five - Part III

2008-11-22T23:04:00.004+01:00

Let's make it an all movies edition.

Favorite Westerns:
1. The Searchers
2. True Grit
3. Lonesome Dove (yeah, mini-series, but I'm making the rules today)
4. Silverado
5. Rio Bravo

Favorite Gangster Movies
1. Godfather I & II
2. Pulp Fiction
3. Goodfellas
4. Casino
5. The Departed

Favorite Sports Movies
1. Pride of the Yankees
2. Bang the Drum Slowly
3. North Dallas Forty
4. Field of Dreams
5. Bull Durham

Favorite Hitchcock Movies
1. Shadow of a Doubt
2. Rear Window
3. Rope
4. Lifeboat
5. Dial M for Murder

Favorite Courtroom Dramas
1. Twelve Angry Men
2. Witness for the Prosecution
3. Judgment at Nuremberg
4. The Caine Mutiny
5. Anatomy of a Murder

Favorite Disney Animated Films
1. Beauty and the Beast
2. Bambi
3. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
4. Fantasia
5. Pinocchio

Favorite Ghost Movies
1. The Others
2. What Lies Beneath
3. Sixth Sense
4. The Shining
5. The Haunting

Favorite Musicals
1. West Side Story
2. Oklahoma
3. Chicago
4. Oliver
5. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

Friday Shuffle - Well Earned Bliss Edition

2008-11-21T21:48:00.003+01:00

Here's one of my favorite feelings in the world. It starts with a day where I work myself into a stupor. You know those days - the ones where you spend the whole day moving or cleaning out your garage or working in the garden. Maybe you do all your spring or fall cleaning in one day or you detail your car. It can be a day where you take the entire day to put up your complex collection of holiday decorations. Or it's a day where you paint your living room and two bedrooms.

I've had one of those days. Fridays are usually busy for me but today was crazier with catching up on laundry and doing some neglected housework like cleaning the oven and getting the high traffic areas of the carpet cleaned up along with the regular stuff. And of course B always needs care and attention. I'm finished for the day and now I can look forward to that lovely feeling.

It's the feeling you have when you're finally able to get ready for bed. Face washing and tooth brushing is finished, jammies are on and bed is there just waiting for you to crawl in. You're so exhausted that your eye has a twitch and your legs are achy and jumpy. You slide between the sheets and almost at the moment you settle your head on the pillow you fall asleep. Peaceful, dreamless sleep where nothing disturbs you all night and morning finds you in bed in the same position as when you fell asleep. That's the feeling I'm looking forward to experiencing tonight.

Just one thing left to do. Time to shuffle.

Only The Lonely - Roy Orbison
Lovin' You - Jazzamor
Like Dylan In The Movies - Belle & Sebastian
Tempted - Squeeze
My Oh My - Slade
This Old Heart Of Mine - Rod Stewart
She's A Beauty - The Tubes
This Is Your Life - The Killers
Seven Spanish Angels - Willie Nelson & Ray Charles
Serpentine Fire - Earth, Wind & Fire

Sleep tight, y'all.

Non-Stop Delight

2008-11-20T21:40:00.003+01:00

It's been such a fun-filled and pleasant day here in the Peach household. I can barely contain how full of joy I am and please, please give me the immense honor of sharing my happiness drenched day with you!

After a restless night of listening to the winds howl and the rain pound on the windows I was finally able to fall asleep somewhere around 5:00am. My neighbor's daughter, knowing instinctively that I would certainly not want to start my day with more than two hours of sleep thoughtfully awoke me at 7:00am by playing her piano. How kind it was of her to play the same eight bars of music for twenty minutes straight!

Once my sunrise concert was over I was able to once again fall asleep for another two hours. When I awoke I could see that it indeed was a lovely day outside with bright sunshine streaming through my living room windows. As I had an appointment with my hairdresser this morning I quickly showered and dressed and by the time I was ready to leave the weather had changed. Why have gorgeous sunshine outside when I could be treated to more rain? Mother Nature herself must have sent it to me personally because she knew I'd enjoy strolling in it while going to my car. And I can barely express how thrilled I was when I remembered that I'd left my umbrella in the car! Why I was shouting with glee at the very thought of it!

I had my hair colored today and I wish I had the right words to describe how absolutely tickled I was for my hairdresser to wash my hair wearing stiff rubber gloves. As she rubbed my scalp and at the same time tore hair out at the root I could only think of how fortunate I was to have such stimulating scalp massage!

The rest of the afternoon was rather uneventful. I went grocery shopping and was able to get a parking spot directly in front of the door. The store was practically empty, I found all that I was looking for in the store and didn't need to wait in line at the check out. Completely unremarkable things. Utterly boring. And then it was time for the high point of my day.

Around 5:00pm I needed to walk to the post box to mail some DVDs. If I could mail them before the post box was emptied at 6:00pm then I'd likely get new DVDs delivered on Saturday. No matter that it was again raining outside. That wouldn't be a problem at all! Why it was my fate to walk three blocks to the post box becuase I had once again left my umbrella in the car.

It was steadily pouring rain as I fetched my umbrella out of the car and began to walk down the street. And Mother Nature, somehow knowing that I'd need some resistence exercise, sent strong gusts of wind that insured that I'd need to hold the umbrella with both hands. That tricky wind threatened to tear the umbrella from my hands a time or two and once it flipped the umbrella inside out but I laughed delightedly at the howling wind and shouted strong words to it to express exactly how I felt about it's playfulness.

Once I had deposited the DVDs in the post box I turned towards home. When crossing to the next block I had to wait for a walk signal and when a car speeded through the intersection and splashed water against my legs I shouted the same words of excitement to the driver that I had complimented the wind with.

I passed by the state opera house and city library and crossed over to the block where my apartment bulding is located. The wind and rain, obviously trying to thrill me beyond measure, was picking up as I started down the last 150 meters to my flat and as I rounded my building a particularly playful gust caught my umbrella, nearly dragging me to the ground in the process, and then proceeded to not just turn the umbrella inside out but tear the rod away from where it attached to the cloth and bent half of the umbrella ribs in half. Broken umbrella! Gusty winds! Puking rain! Oh world, envy me!

My rapture didn't end there. My hairdresser, likely knowing that I'd be drown late this afternoon, had gooed up my hair good and proper by using on it a glob of mousse the size of a baseball and after stying it, sprayed my hair with enough hairspray to create another hole in the ozone layer. Once I'd returned home from my happiness filled trip to the post box and my hair had dried to the texture of cement I could finally attempt to drag a comb through it to break apart the glued together strands and further delight my already overly stimulated scalp.

Now tell me about the best part of your day.

Feeding a Weakness

2008-11-19T18:06:00.003+01:00

If history is my weakness then historical photographs are like a drug to me. Part of what I find so appealing about history is how it's the story of people. Even the powerful and famous were still people and ordinary people can affect history as profoundly as the powerful and famous. Photographs only enhance the experience for me.

Life magazine has been able to take current events, photograph them, and with their publication practically insured that they'd become a part of history. I would guess that many of us would associate certain famous photographs with historical events. We think of events like man landing on the moon or the San Francisco earthquake or the end of World War II and can conjure up in our minds a famous photograph.

Google and Life have teamed up to put Life's photo archive online. All those famous people. All those famous events. All those ordinary folks who have helped shape our history. Now you can go online and in one place view them all. Millions of photographs.

Now if I could only get someone to bring me my meals so I don't have to pry myself away from them.

Bon Appetit, Kiddies!

2008-11-18T22:52:00.003+01:00

Over the weekend in Germany it's supposed to snow, at least a little, even here in the flatlands. Predictions of snow prompts me to make a list for me to stock up on needed supplies at the grocery store. Not the standard milk-bread-toilet paper stock up but instead I like to bake when it's lousy weather outside so I have to make sure I have all I need for baking.

Cakes are good but there's something about snow and cookie baking that goes together. Toll House cookies are my favorite cookies but I often save that for Christmas baking because chocolate chips and American style brown sugar are hard-to-the-point-of-impossible to get here. Brownies are another favorite but B is allergic to nuts and I personally think brownies without nuts are dull. The best choice for snowy day cookie baking in my home are snickerdoodles. They have no nuts, they're easy to make and they're B's favorite cookie. I introduced him to the world of snickerdoodles when I first moved to Germany and he became a fan immediately.

I have four distinct memories of Kindergarten. The first is my Kindergarten teacher, Miss Wickie, telling Andrew Campbell that he looked like a drunk in our class picture. And he seriously did! I haven't actually seen that picture in nearly twenty years but it's burned into my mind. The second is Miss Wickie telling some boys stacking up some huge wooden blocks to not stack them so high because they would fall and hurt someone. Not thirty seconds later the stack did fall and hit me on the head and it didn't hurt a bit - but I pretended that it caved in my skull because those bad boys had not been listening to Miss Wickie like they should have and I could get lots of attention if I acted like I was injured. I learned manipulation early in life. The third distinct memory I have is being outside at recess and I could see my mother down in the parking lot talking to some lady. Miss Wickie called us back into class and as I was running I ducked under a jungle gym bar like I always did except this time I didn't duck down far enough and I slammed my forehead into the bar full force. Knowing my mother was down the hill from the playground I ran back and could see my mother driving off in our Chevrolet Biscayne stationwagon and screamed after her "Mama! Mama! Come back!" and she didn't hear me. Cosmic repayment for the hit-with-the-blocks incident? You be the judge.

The fourth distinct memory I have was being selected one day to pass out the milk and cookies at snack time. The cafeteria lady had delivered the cookies and milk about ten minutes before and I could see that they were snickerdoodles. I was so excited because we almost never got snickerdoodles for snack time. One of my favorite cookies and I was going to get to pass them out to everyone! Wouldn't it be terrible if something happened to prevent me from carrying out my sacred milk and cookies duty? And not two minutes later I had to go to the nurse's office to wait for my mother because as I was getting up to pass out milk and cookies I threw up.

Give me a snowy day baking snickerdoodles and I'm five years old again - head injured and throwing up.

Elixir

2008-11-17T21:23:00.004+01:00

I don't drink coffee - tea is what I love. I've tried being a coffee drinker but it just didn't take. I simply don't like the taste of coffee unless I've got an enormous amount of sugar and milk and flavorings and everything else that can drown out the actual flavor of the coffee. If I've got to put enough junk in it to completely mask any trace of coffee flavor, why bother? Life's too short to drink every morning something that repulses you.

Since I'm not a coffee drinker I don't have personal experience with this but I'm guessing that true coffee lovers go through the same thing I go through every morning. I get up and after my morning routine is finished and I have breakfast prepared I sit down and finally have my first sip of tea. And without fail it's like I'm suddenly able to breathe.

I could be having the worse morning in the world. It could be cold and dark and raining outside. My hair could look like the Wreck of the Hesperus. All the wrongs in my world are, if not corrected, are at least soothed with that first sip of tea.

My Top Five - Part II

2008-11-16T20:40:00.003+01:00

You asked for 'em, you got 'em. Reader Interaction, how I love thee!

Cheesy Songs of the '70s (picked for pure cheese quality alone):
1. Run Joey Run - David Geddes
2. Half Breed - Cher
3. The Night Chicago Died - Paper Lace
4. Crazy Horses - The Osmonds
5. Convoy - C. W. McCall

Favorite Places I've Visited:
1. Colonial Williamsburg - Williamsburg, Virginia
2. St. Paul's Cathedral - London, England
3. National Museum of American History - Washington, DC
4. Peabody Hotel - Memphis, Tennessee
5. White House - Washington, DC

Favorite Foreign Language Films:
1. Der Himmel über Berlin (Wings of Desire)
2. Das Wunder von Bern (The Miracle of Bern)
3. Ladri di biciclette (The Bicycle Thief)
4. Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain (Amélie)
5. 8 femmes (8 Women)

Favorite Department Stores:
1. Bloomingdale's
2. Neiman Marcus
3. KaDeWe
4. Lord & Taylor
5. Nordstrom

Favorite Southern Cities:
1. Memphis, Tennessee
2. Savannah, Georgia
3. Williamsburg, Virginia
4. Oxford, Mississippi
5. Nashville, Tennessee

Favorite Presidents:
1. Abraham Lincoln
2. Thomas Jefferson
3. Franklin D. Roosevelt
4. Theodore Roosevelt
5. George Washington

I'll take more suggestions for next week's lists.

My Top Five - Part I

2008-11-15T22:01:00.003+01:00

It came to me in a vision. A man on a flaming pie said "It's NaBloPoMo month. Your monthly theme is favorites. You love lists. For your weekend entries, make lists of favorites.".

Genius inspired by a man on a flaming pie only happens once and only to someone like John Lennon so I'll be honest. The laziness that invades me body and soul on weekends has suggested to me that weekends for the rest of NaBloPoMo will just be lists of my top five favorite things. It's cheesy and meme-y but far superior to getting to the last five or six days of the months and running completely dry for things to write.

Favorite TV Sitcoms:
1. M*A*S*H
2. The Dick Van Dyke Show
3. The Mary Tyler Moore Show
4. I Love Lucy
5. Seinfeld

Favorite Flowers:
1. Magnolias
2. Violets
3. Gladiolas
4. Tulips
5. Lily of the Valley

Favorite Pies:
1. Peach
2. Chocolate Cream
3. Key Lime
4. Lemon Meringue
5. Sweet Potato

Favorite Holidays:
1. Christmas
2. 4th of July
3. Thanksgiving
4. Halloween
5. New Years

Favorite Sports to Watch:
1. Soccer
2. Baseball
3. Biathlon
4. Figure Skating
5. Team Handball

Favorite Vegetables:
1. Tomatoes
2. Okra (even boiled okra)
3. Spinach
4. Green Beans
5. Kohlrabi

Favorite Beatles Songs:
1. A Day In The Life
2. She Said, She Said
3. Here, There And Everywhere
4. Norwegian Wood
5. I'll Follow The Sun

Favorite Martin Scorsese Films:
1. Goodfellas
2. Casino
3. Taxi Driver
4. The Departed
5. The Last Waltz

Feel free to comment and give me some suggestions as to what lists of favorites you'd like for me to do.

Friday Shuffle - Awesome Awesomeness Edition

2008-11-14T21:53:00.005+01:00

I love lists. I like making them and I really love reading them. When I was a kid we had a battered copy of The Book of Lists that I read over and over and I swear it was between that book and the World Book encyclopedias I read at every opportunity that launched me on my love of trivia. If there's a list of top anything - books, TV shows, movies, songs, film villains, whatever - I'm going to find it irresistible. Even if I find someone's shopping list left behind in the basket I'm using, I have to read it.

I make a list of songs here every Friday and it's that list that led me to getting a fabulous treat this week. Jane's a regular reader that gets a kick out of the Friday Shuffle and she sent me a book, 1000 Recordings To Hear Before You Die by Tom Moon that's right up my alley and involves two things I love - music and lists.

The book is a massive list but not one that you may expect. It's not a list of the greatest pieces of music in the world. There some pieces listed that I imagine some, if not many, would consider not all that great and there are pieces that I imagine many people find brilliant that aren't listed. It's not a list of the most popular. Some of the pieces included are things you may never have heard of by people you've never heard of. I think it's better to describe it as a list of music that you need to experience in order to fully know the scope of recorded music and all it can offer.

It's just the sort of list that makes it a pleasure to read. It's in alphabetical order so there's not automatic preference inferred and that makes it perfect for casual browsing. Flip it open anywhere, read for a few minutes and then continue on with your busy day. Each entry gives a bit of insight as to why that selection is included and what one should listen for when hearing it. What I've also enjoyed is that included in the list are artists that you seldom see mentioned on other lists or are artists I liked but were never really mainstream popular and I'd forgotten about them. It was such a nice surprise to flip through and find an entry for The Incredible String Band (my brother had an album of theirs that I liked a lot but I haven't thought of them in probably thirty years) and one for Ofra Haza (I don't know anyone but me who listens to Ofra Haza). I'm enjoying this book tremendously and I'd recommend it for anyone who is a music lover, especially anyone who loves a wide variety of music and always wants to learn about more.

I was just so thrilled that Jane would go to all the trouble of sending me this book but it didn't stop there. She actually knows the author, Tom Moon, and she had him autograph the book for me. Tell me that's not cool! Tell me that's not oozing awesome awesomeness! I swear, I never cease to be amazed at how wonderful and generous and kind people are. I'm always so knocked out by folks to do great things for me for no other reason than they enjoy it. Thanks, Jane!

All this music talk is making me itch to let Bixente the iPod do his thing. Go, boy.

Sex Fire Religion - Edguy
Ertrinken - Die Toten Hosen
Do You Wanna - The Kooks
Turn The Page - Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band
Take Back The City - Snow Patrol
Anchorage - Michelle Shocked
Closer - Travis
A Minor Incident - Badly Drawn Boy
Falling Into Place - Mike Viola and the Candy Butchers
This Is Us - Emmylou Harris & Mark Knopfler

Favorite Part of My Day

2008-11-13T22:01:00.003+01:00

I could see them as I walked down the street from the bakery. One was one of my neighbors who lives on one of the upper floors. She's got two little toddlers and one baby who's less than a year old. The other was a friend of hers who lives in a nearby building - she's got a baby and a little girl of about two. They were standing and chatting in front of the entrance to my building while the toddlers were wandering around them on the sidewalk.

I said hello to the ladies and let myself into the building. The front and sides of the lobby are all glass and when I bent down in front of my mailbox to empty it something caught my attention. Still bent over I lifted my eyes and saw the little girl on the other side of the glass. She was in a sweet little pink outfit, her head haloed in curly brown hair and her deep brown eyes were fixed on me. I smiled at her and she rewarded me with a big smile back. Feeling silly, I made a little face at her - wrinkling my nose a bit - and she laughed. She returned the favor and made a little face at me and then we both laughed. It went on and on back and forth, exchanges of silly faces and giggles until finally I had to straighten up before I got stuck in a permanently hunched over position. That's when I noticed the ladies, evidently attracted by the laughter, had strolled over to watch me and my new little face-making friend in action.

I gave them a little smile that said "You caught me," and they gave me back a little smile that said "Ohhhh yeah,". And then I gave them a little sheepish wave, another wave to my curly haired friend and scooted myself into the elevator.

Intensity

2008-11-12T21:56:00.003+01:00

About ten minutes ago I went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. The light switch for the kitchen is actually outside the kitchen door so I was still in the hallway as I turned on the light. Suddenly there was a crazy bright flash, a very loud pop and I'll admit that I squealed. Rather loudly.

Okay, it was a full out scream. A scream so loud that it startled the hell out of B and out of the corner of my eye I could see his right arm flail around uncontrollably from the shock of it all. And I nearly wet my pants. I dashed into the bathroom to make sure that I actually hadn't and as I was banging repeatedly on the light switch for the bathroom with no results I realized that there was no power on that side of our flat.

Turns out one of the high intensity bulbs in the overhead kitchen light burned out as I switched on the light and it tripped the breaker for all the lights on the west side of the flat. The breaker was reset and the lights came on. No actually pants wetting took place.

What would qualify this as a favorite? I just thought I'd give you your favorite goofy mental image for the day.

Never View It Dubbed. Trust Me.

2008-11-11T22:09:00.004+01:00

I should probably be embarrassed to admit this to y'all but I've watched Gone With The Wind in the neighborhood of seventy times. I guess such a statistic should be kept more accurately but when you get into numbers like that for a four hour film, I guess a little inaccuracy is to be expected.

I never watched the movie until, I believe, I was in high school. I loved it though - loved the story and loved the way it was filmed. And the costumes are irresistible. Clark Gable as Rhett is the quintessential rogue and Olivia de Havilland as Miss Melanie defines how a lady should be. And Vivien Leigh? She doesn't just act like Scarlett O'Hara - she is Scarlett O'Hara.

I have favorite lines from that movie and reciting the dialog along with the characters is easy. It should be after 70+ viewings. Hattie McDaniel as Mammy has some of the best lines ever and it wouldn't be a proper viewing of this movie if I didn't say along with her at the proper moment, "He'll be comin' to Atlanta when he gets his leave, and you sittin' there waitin' for him, just like a spider." She more than earned her Oscar with that one line alone.

If there's any statistic more embarrassing than the fact that I've viewed Gone With The Wind around seventy times is the fact that ten of those times occurred in five days. I had a terrible case of the flu and I was at home from work for a week. Each day I would wake up around 8am and I'd pop the cassette into the VCR. My prized 50th anniversary edition. I'd watch the movie (admittedly I may have drifted off to sleep for a few moments - I did have the flu), take a break for an hour to eat some lunch and rest and then around 1:00pm I'd start the film all over again; The End coming up on the screen just as my now ex-husband would be rolling in from work.

I don't watch it as much anymore - in fact I haven't watched it in about three years. Admittedly it's probably not the most politically correct or historically accurate film in the world but what really draws me in is the detail and the effort that went into making that movie. It's a big, lavish, dishy melodrama that lets you lose yourself completely into the story. And what probably draws me in most is how interesting a self-centered brat who needs a smack upside the head can be.

Fantastic When Blended Together As Well

2008-11-10T22:18:00.002+01:00

Red velvet cake
Candlelight
Merino wool
Fireworks
Iced tea with lemon
Puppy bellies
Pedicures
Christmas decorations
Arrangement of red and white flowers
Line dried sheets

Some of my favorite things. Things I think about when I need a smile. Tell me some things that are tops on your list.