lord lady of the flies

There is no amount of buddhism-on-tape could keep me from bitching about this.

See this bowl of lovely fruit?



Those are persimmons off of our very own tree. Beauties, eh?

Yeah. RIGHT.
To my horror, they were FlopHousesForFruitFlies.
Lots of Fruit Flies.
THAT HAVE TAKEN OVER MY KITCHEN.

Their invasion has had me doing all sorts of non-buddhist things. Respect every living earthly creature?? HA! Avoiding all acts of violence?? HRMPH. Ya' know, when it comes to bugs, I will go to some crazy efforts to catch and release spiders and crickets. But ants or fleas (and now apparently FrigginFruitFlies)?? NO. WAY.


Yesterday the little FruityShits were all happy and flitting about, exploring their new indoor empire, so I immediately went out to buy the good ol' fashioned fly paper sort of thing. I was just so danged excited when I walked into Target and quickly found the ever so perfect Hot Shot No-Pest Strip.


Wow! Look!! It's even improved over the ol' fashioned stuff! It is fly paper, new and improved! With a little protective plastic cover and hangythingy! How cute!! I won't even have to decorate my house for the holidays with garlands of long sticky fly covered strips! Woohoo!!

True to form though, I didn't actually READ THE INSTRUCTIONS until I got it home. It was at that point I learned that this product isn't designed to let the little bastards to get stuck to it...NOooooooo....this product emits something. This thing is what you leave behind in your "vacation home" when you will be gone for at least 4 months, the wrapper says. That way, while you are summering at your other chateau, this sorry-assed excuse for immediate gratification, "utilizes controlled release technology to slowly diffuse a deep penetrating vapor in enclosed spaces (not for use in homes)."

Thanks.

So I spent most of last night crafting multiple torturous methods for offing them one by one (which seems to be the only way I can nail them----employing tactics for group massacres proved worthless). Me. The one with the halo of little gnat like things buzzing around my head in the kitchen. The flies migrating in groups as they send out panic signals alerting the troupes of impending doom, and me...trying anything I have in the house that is in a spray bottle as a possible bug killing solution (the 409 worked best, but all it did was slow them down long enough for me to smooosh them.)

in a wheelchair, chasing around flies with spray bottles, TheMostImportantGuy is IM-ing me things like how to build a trap out of soda bottles, and posts on the topic from various discussion groups. The best idea I thought was to set out a glass of wine or booze and let the little shits drown in it. But then they'd die happy, and that just aint right. The oddest tip called for the bait in the bottle of doom being urine, vanilla, and sugar. Yum.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

So have a nice day, y'all. This Executioner must now go on the shopping spree of death now. I shall not return home until I have all of the necessary implements to host my very own little FruitFlyHolocaust.

rewind, rewound & rewritten

For those of you keeping track, yesterday I bailed on a WhineyAssedPost. I didn't delete it though, in hopes of salvaging at least something, during these lean times called NaBloPoMO. Here's is the first half in it's entirety, exactly as it was originally written (in green), plus the new replacement bits.
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rewind

Here it is, November, and I'm feel like it's important for me to backtrack all the way into September and October. Not because I am out of blog fodder for NaBloPoMo, but because lots was left unsaid in my absence. I have a couple of DeepBrainFart topics to discuss, I have many many people to thank for gifties in the mail, and I'd like to record some thoughts about the shows that I performed in while they are still fresh in my head. So the next few posts will be dedicated to catching up.

The first order of business in catching up though, is to explain why I took such a long break from blogging in the first place. Not as an excuse or apology, but because I am really on a mission to understand why I do (or do not do) certain things sometimes.

So here we go.

Way back in August, I already knew that I would not be posting anything with substance during the month of October. I had already seen the writing on the wall (or the calendar, I guess), I there was to be a three week period during October where I had to do something like 5 shows, with 2 different dance companies. Plus I had to attend their associated regular rehearsals, tech rehearsals, and dress rehearsals. Oh, and one of those two dance companies? I am the co-director of. Plus I helped with some of the concert production. Oh, and I performed in 3 different pieces for that concert, too...one of which was a new solo.

In other words, October was screwed for finding time to sit and type, like I said, I could see that clearly way back in August. My plan, however, was to post through the month of September, and then warn y'all that there would be little, if any, sign of me, in blogland during October.

But two things happened in early September that gave me the grandest case of BackedUpConstipatedBloggyBlock that I have ever had.

The first, was that someone was emailing me, repeatedly, telling me what I should be posting about (and it wasn't posed in the form of a polite request).

Now, if you know anything about me at all, telling me what to do is one sure fire way to make sure I do not do it (unless You are TheMostImportantGuy, but that's an entirely different thang).

(SECRET TIP OF THE DAY: The power of suggestion works amazingly well on TheAmpuT, especially if you can find a way to trick me into thinking that I had come up with the bright idea all on my own. If you don't want to hassle with that, polish up your Please's and ThankYou's extra shiny-like...or bat your eyelashes...either works like a charm every time)

I think, actually, that my first sentence as a baby was "I DO IT MYSELF!" (Mom+Dad, am I correct on that??---and no, you do not need to tell me the story about my refusing to hold Grandpa's hand while crossing the street. Again. Unless it pleases you LOL).



Ok, so that is where yesterday's post turned sour. From there, I sorta dove in head first explaining the whole situation plus my several week process of dealing with it, which included (but was not limited to):
being irritated, complaining to friends endlessly, avoiding the situation entirely, getting frustrated, becoming anxious to point of considering medication, feeling like I was being told I was lying by omission, name calling in my sleep, complete avoidance of my blog, and my trying to figure out if the old adage, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all," is really worth it's weight in gold, or in shit.

After a couple weeks of THAT, it morphed into deep self-contemplation, a willingness and readiness to resolve the situation, my direct invitation to discuss the situation, having the offered discussion deemed unnecessary, and then allowing the whole issue to basically be swept under the rug.

*le sigh*
Well, even though I didn't to say my piece, at least I got as far as working it out for myself, and at least I got as far as being brave enough to be able to say what I had to say, even if I didn't get a chance to say it.

The whole situation, especially feeling alienated from the blog (one of my key creative and somewhat theraputic outlets for myself), had me WACKED OUT. And so where y'all were probably thinking I was just sort of skipping through daisies in Disneyland over here, ignoring the internets, I was actually here day in, day out, trying to figure out where to find the Blogger'sVersionOfPruneJuice.

Seriously. Too many hours were spent fretting and stressed. I had given this situation way too much of my time and energy....but the thing I saw yesterday, was that here it was weeks later, and I was STILL DOING IT! GAH!!!


SO!! That explains the first chunk of September, but there was still a little bit of the month left before TheHellMonthOfOctober was to hit.

But by then there was new thing that kept me from blogging, and seeing that this post is already way too long, I'll save that for later....

....but as a preview, the next thing that kept me away from posting in September (you'll love this one), was that I was uncomfortable about being too happy.

I laugh out loud just typing that now, but I assure you, I wasn't laughing about it one bit a few weeks ago. So I'll be back to dive into that topic.

i am totally cheating

I feel like a NaBloPoseur.

I feel like the dork at the early-90's goth club wearing the red dress with sunflowers on it (yes, I actually did that, and I have photos to prove it--if I ever get a scanner, you are so in for a laugh).

I wrote a lengthy post this morning, but didn't have time to finish it before I had to leave to volunteer at the convalescent hospital. So I saved the post, with the plan being to edit it and submit it this afternoon.

The post was intended to explain my absence from the blog for the past several weeks. There was an actual event that triggered the Blogger'sBlock. What the post ended up being though, was pretty much a rant. One that would probably set off a chain reaction of nothing but PoopyDooDoo. And while I was driving to and from the hospital (listening to those danged buddhist lectures in the car again), I realized that I sound like a frickin' whiner, and that man, do I really have a way of getting sucked in when people create drama.

I don't think I'm going to be any less whiny or dramatic before midnight...and besides, blogger says they are scheduling an outage at 11pm, so I figure I am going to have to fake it today.

SOoooo!!! How about a shot of what I'm knitting right now?



I'm such a poseur that this is not even a recent photo. It IS what I am knitting right now, but that shot is from the early stages. At this point, the body and sleeves are finished, and I'm actually onto the collar. So just sorta scrunch your eyes a little and imagine a bigger blob with solid black around the edges.

Knitters are such a compassionate bunch, I'm sure y'all will tell me it counts. The rest of you...I'd appreciate it if you just did the same, k???

the truth about beagles

...I mean, bagels, is that I'd be glad to make them for you (that means YOU, dad...or anyone else for that matter), but you probably wont see me making them for myself anytime soon.

Not because they weren't delicious. They were! It's just that for awhile now, my diet has consisted of primarily Raw Living Foods. Yesterday's vegan/organic brunch was fully cooked, although delicious and healthy, but being that it was cooked, it was far different from what my diet has consisted of lately.

I ate Raw for a full year right before I was pregnant with MyFavoriteKid , and I had never felt better in my life. And now, 11 years later, I'm back at it. I'll share what I know about it this month, as I am certain I am going to be scrambling for topics during NaBloPoMo.

Speaking of scrambles, here is my breakfast today:



This is the "Spanish Scramble" from Ani Phyo's book Ani's Raw Food Kitchen. You can also see her make this dish on YouTube!

It makes me a happy camper.

sunday brunch with strangers

I have this buddy that I've known for cruising up on 5 years now. His name is Philip Gelb. He is a very talented musician, and also an excellent vegan personal chef and caterer. We chat online regularly about all sorts of silly crap (for example, just this very minute...as I am sitting here typing this post...he just IM'd me: "am listening to an interview with a guy who was abducted by aliens").

Anyhow. Being that we are both foodies (we both are, or have been professional chefs) when we chat, our conversations almost always come back to food: what we're making, what we're eating, what fancy kitchen equipment we just scored, etc. Or we talk about beagles.

ANYHOW. Phil has been teaching vegan cooking classes out of his Oakland, CA loft for awhile now. For some reason or another, I have never made it to one of his classes until today. But there was nothing that was going to keep me from going to today's class. Nope. No clock changes, no post-performance exhaustion. For none of that would I miss this. Why??

Bagels.

We made BAGELS. (no no, not beagles...that is something entirely different..but I bet if Phil ever googles himself and finds this post, he will IM me to chat about making Beagle Flavored Bagels).

ANYHOW. Phil and I both come from east coast Jewish stock, so we both know a real bagel when we see one, and I have never made them. Very rarely do I bake, and when I do, it isn't bread. It's dessert.

The class itself was fun. It was a complete brunch menu. There were 7 of us cooking. People were of varying skill levels, interests, and backgrounds. The class was hands-on, and when we were done working together, we got to eat everything. The discussions during the feast were also good (neat how good food makes good food for thought).

I am sorry to say, of all the photos I took today, I didn't take one single shot of a BAGEL!! Once that dough got put together, I went into some sort of yeast inspired stupor, I apparently I stayed in that state through the forming of the bagels, their subsequent boiling, then baking, their being served up with herbed vegan cream cheese, and then being promptly devoured. Well, okay. It wasn't a stupor. The truth is, that I was paying really close attention to the making of the bagels, because I damn well want to be able to make these on my own!

So no bagel photos. And I didn't take shots of the buckwheat pancakes with pear compote, the tempeh hash, or the vegan quiche, either.

But here's some token artsy fartsy garlic for you.



(bet you've never seen that before)

Oooooo, and here's some spinach.



And some other stuff.




Aren't you excited??!?!?!?!
Oy. Sorry. I know. A photographer I will never be, and so don't quite that day job and all that (nevermind that I don't even have one).


ANYHOWWWWW
Guess I'll have to make some more bagels on my own so I can see if I was a good student and so that I can do another photo shoot ;-)

And although he'll want the real cream cheese and some lox and red onion on top, I'll bet you ten bucks that my dad is reading this and trying to figure out the least obvious way to hint at my making him some ;-)

a dedication and a blessing

the house of Julia Morgan Center for the Arts, as seen from Center Stage, pre-show


I dedicated my performance tonight to the members of Axis Dance Company that I had seen in performance about 10 years before the loss of my leg.

It is because of them, that when I woke up in the ICU to find I was missing a body part, there was no doubt in my mind that I would continue to dance.

~ ~ ~

May you all find peace in knowing that no matter what dark place your path may end up taking you, someone has probably already been there before you, and either left you trail markers, or is waiting there holding a flashlight.

shift

taken Oct 27th at the local produce stand & pumpkin patch

Yes, just like the photo, I have a damn bee poking at my middle, and yes I am still one giant ray of sunshine. Yes, you heard me. One giant eff-ing ray :-)

I know, try not to vomit.

You see, I had one very fantastic day arranged for myself today, so that I would have a wonderful time just sort of sliiiiiiiiiding into performance mode this weekend. And my fantastically arranged day was yanked out from underneath me. Last night at tech rehearsal, I was advised that there was yet another rehearsal scheduled for 10 am this morning (the morning of my fantastic day of sliiiiiiding), and the rehearsal was to take place all the way in San Francisco. Now that I have moved farther north, San Francisco is now....

35.3 miles, about 43 minutes, up to 1 hour 40 minutes in traffic (thanks, goooogle)

....away from home, and no I could not leave until 8:30am after dropping MyFavoriteKid off at school, and yes it was at the peak of rush hour traffic, and oddly enough it did take exactly 1 hour and 40 minutes, which meant I arrived to rehearsal late, which to me, does not encourage that magical sliiiiiiiiding feeling.

Annnnnnnnnnd, besides being at rehearsal, I had to cancel my fantastic day which included all of these fantastic activities that I had arranged for myself, so there was to be no wonderful time and definitely no sliiiiiiiiiiiiding.

After I found this out last night, I called TheMostImportantGuy and kvetched to him about it, then arrived home and started to kvetch to y'all about it by typing up a kvetchy post (that I deleted because I was all kvetched out and couldn't finish). It was a rant about how the director/choreographer conspires against me even more that the fates do.

I woke up this morning, expecting to scramble through my morning still pissed off. Hell, I wasn't even expecting to still be pissed, I was pretty much planning to be pissed. But you know what?? I woke up, realized that I actually wasn't pissed, and rather than allowing myself to become re-pissed (which apparently I am quite skilled at doing and has become a favorite past time), I instead just went about doing everything that I had intended to do in a calm (although non-sliiiiiiiiding) fashion, with a smile on my face, and then went to rehearsal. And because of my non-steeping-in-pissed-ness approach, I actually really enjoyed the rehearsal, and got quite a lot out of it (it was the first rehearsal for a new project that will be performed in April, and I am very very excited about it).


The shift that I am trying to point to , I think, is that for some reason lately, I am just not getting hooked into my own emotions the way I used to. I'm not sure why. I'm not sure if it's because I am generally less stressed, I am not sure if it's because I've been doing a little research about buddhism, I'm not sure if it's because I am taking better care of myself, I'm not sure if it's because.....well, whatever. There are a whole bunch of things that could be causing the shift. I'm just not sure which one it is, or if it is all of them together.

I'd kinda like to know though, because as sure as I sit here, bigger shit than last minute rehearsals is going to hit the inevitable fan, and when it does, I'd like to respond as a giant ray of sunshine for a change. I'd like to be able to get angry or sad or resentful or anxious....but then not let it control me and decide how I'm going to move through the world for the rest of the...whatever...day, week, hour, or even minute.

I mean, I have no problem with sitting in what most people think of as "negative emotions" for a bit. I'm not talking about avoiding my feelings about any given thing and just putting a smile on my face. What I am saying is that I really am ready to live a way of being that allows me function and with some peace and love in my heart, even while I feel like crap. And to not let something that I react to strongly cause me to keep re-experiencing that feeling long after the stimulus has gone.

Dudes, I can brood about anything. What a waste of time.

So that is the direction I am headed in my life right now.
Just in case you were wondering.

"Happiness is a direction, not a place." ~Sydney J. Harris ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This message has been brought to you by TheAmpuT, who probably listens to too many lectures about buddhist texts while stuck in traffic ;-)

post halloween post

I'm not sure if I've ever written about this here before. If I have, pardon while I bore you with a repeat. It seems that telling the same stories over and over is a trait I have absorbed from doing all the volunteer work at convalescent hospitals. I actually believe the condition to be contagious.


Have I told you that every Halloween since becoming an amputee, I've slapped on some kitty ears as my "token costume", I've gone out (in a wheelchair) to some festivity, and had at least one person question me as to how I made my costume look so real??? (and we're not talking about the kitty ears, because the boneheads don't even SEE the kitty ears).

Yes. For real. Every single year, someone(s) has explored behind my wheelchair, inspected underneath my wheelchair, and then announced that I have an awesome costume....and HOW ON EARTH did I manage to make it look so real?? And these ding-dongs have all been adults!! Granted, some of them were probably a wee bit drunk (this phenomenon most often takes place when I've gone out to see TheMostImportantGuy's band play a Halloween gig).

I swear to you, next year I am going to bloody myself up and carry around a mannequin leg or something. Or dress up like test-crash-dummy, post collision. I'd quite enjoy that. Plus I wouldn't have to bear listening to the endless drunken apologies for not realizing that my real costume was actually on my head.


This year turned out to be a little different. For starters, there was no gig to go see. Secondly, I figured I'd go for something more obvious than kitty ears this year, hoping it would serve as a distraction to everything going on below the waist (kinda the same way I've learned that if I wear a boob-enhancing blouse or a colorful scarf, I can go out and get less dumbass comments).

So last night, I tried this:



An ornate mask, and long feathery boa. Then I rigged a big-ass flashlight onto my wheelchair, and went out trick-or-treating with these jokers:

that would be MyFavoriteKid on the left

We had a blast. Let me tell you, this new area I live in is like night and day compared to the old 'hood. I mean, instead of the police dealing with pumpkin hurling teenagers, they were driving around and handing out glow sticks for the kids to wear around their necks. There were hundreds of kids on the streets, plus plenty of adults, and it was pretty much one big fun block party....which is far different than it was living where we lived before.

(get a tissue, here's your token "emo" moment: I can't tell you how it filled my heart to see my kid enjoying halloween the way it was intended to be)

And get this one.
I made it through the whole night without getting a comment about my "costume".

Well. Sort of.

We were almost at the end of our evening, when a dad walked by dragging along his sugared-up, semi-glazed, (what looked to be) two or three year-old kid.

I said to the kid, "Happy Halloween, Spiderman!!!!"

He looked at me for long while, saying nothing.

I said, "Are you having fun?! Are you getting lots of treats??!!"

The kid was still sorta looking at me up, down, and a little sideways.

His dad started pulling him along towards the next house.

"Bye, Spidey!!!"

Kid turned, and in his pip-squeak voice says, "Bye Robot Lady!!!!!"

(The dad turned to apologize. I totally cracked up. I thought it was awesome, and told him so.)
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If you've made it this far, and are interested, I am performing this weekend with Dandelion Dancetheater in a show put on by "Side by Side".


Friday, November 2, 2007, 8 PM

Saturday, November 3, 2007, 8 PM

Side by Side presents
Anne Bluethenthal & Dancers, Dandelion Dancetheater, Deep Water Dance Theater, Facing East Dance & Music, Moving Arts Dance, Navarrete x Kajiyama Dance Theatre, Nina Haft & CO, Paco Gomes & Dancers

Side by Side concerts is presenting some of the Bay Area's most innovative and provocative dance makers. From Dandelion's zany romps to Facing East Dance & Music's eloquent aesthetics and Paco Gomes & Dancers ethnically based modern dance, you will be brought you to the edge of your seat. These companies come together for the first time to create an enjoyable, refreshing look at the Bay Area dance scene. Do not miss this opportunity to see some of the most exciting dance choreography the Bay Area has to offer.

Advanced and Door Ticket Prices: Adults $15, Senior/Student $12, Children under 5 free
Groups of 10 or more $12 each
CBON Ticket Line 925.798.1300
To Purchase Tickets Online: www.willowstickets.org

The show is at the Julia Morgan Center for the Arts, in Berkeley, CA.
More details here.

mwahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa

Boo! D'ya miss me???
Goooood.
Because you are about to get very sick of me.
Why, say you??
Well, because tomorrow begins the onslaught known as NaBloPoMo.



NaBloPoMo. That would be short for National Blog Posting Month, for those who don't recall the horrors of last year.
And why, you ask, do I disappear for long stretches and then come back with a screaming vengeance?
Because here, at the House O' Gimp, it either rains or shines, that's why.
Sometimes even both at once ;-)

~ Happy Halloween ~

i think the conversation had gone something like this

TheBon: "I'd like to send you some sort of housewarming gift. Is there something you'd like or need?"

TheAmpuT: "Actually, what I'd really love is some handknit dishcloths. My new kitchen is bright (effing) orange, and the ones I have from my last place are all greens and purples."

TheBon: "Oh, I will totally do that for you."

Since that conversation, I've gotten little updates here and there.... "I am knitting them now." "They're done, but I have to get to the post office to mail them." "They are on their way." .....and every time we chat about it, I have pictured two warshrags. TWO.

Look what came in the mail the other day.



Not two, but FIVE warshrags, in bright (effing) orange, plus an orange veggie brush, and a brown kitchen towel (the other predominant kitchen color because of the hardwood floors, which extend into the kitchen). She also tossed it party favors from her recent wedding, which included needlepoint bookmarks, M & M's (promtly inhaled--I'm surprised the even made it into the photo) in the wedding colors, and the most adorable kitchen magnets. She even put a gift for MyFavoriteKid in the package---a fossilized nautilus shell from Peru, which MyFK loves because he is quite the collector of fancy rocks and crystals.

Way more than two dishcloths, dude. Thanks, Bon!
(To all you knitbloggers out there, this is someone I "met" through the comments section of someone else's blog. We now chat online together all the time, and we have also met in person. All hail the mighty internet!)
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Lots of other goodies around here these days, and I hope to get photos up soon. I finally scored a real coffee table, and I am a couple of days away from having a real nightstand (which, like the coffee table, has also been a box). I'm getting some art up on the walls, and I am finishing up a custom framing project for a gorgeous piece of art I bought from MissJodiGreen. (here's a peek)




Have a good weekend, gang ;-)

5th grade math

Elementary School Band + First Time on a Clarinet =



Mommy's Version of Earplugs

amputee dolphin gets prosthesis

Did any of you catch this one?

I have too many questions to comment:

* Who is this prosthesis really for?? (The dolphin? The emo-innovative prosthetist who likes a challenging side project? Is it for people who can't stand the sight of anything defunct because it makes them uncomfortable to consider that possibility that it could one day be their own selves in this predicament? Is it for people who want to "help" amputees be restored to "wholeness" so we can acheive greatness and inspire you?---uh, oh...here I go. )

* How the hell did they get that thing to stay on??!!! In the deep end! Doing backflips!! I can't get mine to stay on standing still on dry land, for crying out loud.

* If the dolphin swims and the prosthetic rotates on her (like mine often does), will she swim in circles? LOL

* And what's so bad about swimming like an alligator anyhow? I look like I'm a beached walrus when I make the bed. Sometimes ya just gotta adapt, ya know?



* How come medical/animal advocates will spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to do this for a dolphin, but not bother to make a wooden pirate peg for all the three legged dogs out there?

* Does the dolphin even LIKE having this thing on? And what about the other dolphins. Do other dolphins freak out around it? Do they whisper in the corner about it behind her back?

* If the dolphin had a blog, would she have people who fetishize amputees commenting on it? Or would she just get over 100 hits a day on that kind of search, like I do.


Whatever. It aint the first time people have put a prosthetic on a dolphin, and I'm sure it won't be the last.

I bet all the dolphin has to say about it is:
"So long, and thanks for all the fish."



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Aug. 31, 2007, 10:30PM


Injured dolphin gets special tail prosthesis, and the technology could aid human amputees

A wonder in the water
By EILEEN SCHULTE

St. Petersburg Times

CLEARWATER — It's so small, so cute, like a pair of aquatic training wheels.
But the artificial appendage could help Winter, Tampa Bay's famous young Atlantic bottlenose dolphin amputee, swim and jump like her neighbors at the Clearwater Marine Aquarium who, unlike her, actually have tail fins.
On Thursday morning, head trainer Abby Stone gingerly slid 10 pounds of prosthesis onto Winter's stump.
First, some lotion.
Second, Stone rolled on a $1,000 soft gel sleeve as gently as a woman rolls silk hose onto her legs.
Finally, a more rigid shell with a small tail attached.
The 1 1/2 -year-old dolphin turned her head and looked back at the trainer with her left eye to see what she was doing. She's been testing the device for short periods during the past two weeks.
But Thursday marked the first time Winter wore her new tail in front of the public. As TV cameras rolled, the public got a glimpse of the first dolphin in the world with such an extensive injury — she lost her tail and three vertebrae in an accident — to swim with prosthetic flukes.
The plucky dolphin is the golden retriever of the Aquarium, happy for anything involving attention, toys, snacks or just plain fun.
Winter was just an infant when she was found more than two years ago off Cape Canaveral, deserted by her mother and tangled in a rope attached to a crab trap. Veterinarians did not believe she would survive.
The ordeal damaged not only her flukes but also part of her peduncle, or tail shaft. Without flukes, she lacks her main propulsion. She compensates by swimming side to side like an alligator.
Designed by Kevin Carroll, vice president of prosthetics for Hanger Orthopedic Group Inc. of Bethesda, Md., the prosthesis stays on by suction technology using an airtight seal.
Carroll's company is donating the staff time, materials, labor, imagination and creativity to create the device, which aquarium administrators estimate could cost more than $100,000.
Aquarium CEO David Yates said one of the best things about Winter's story is that the technology invented to help her can also help human amputees, especially those returning from the war in Iraq.
This is just the latest prototype. It will evolve as Winter, who now weighs 180 pounds, grows and develops her swimming skills. Adult dolphins can weigh 500 pounds.
In test trials during the past two weeks, Winter has worn the device for five to 20 minutes.
She is so curious about the strange thing attached to the end of her body she has been doing underwater somersaults to try and look at it, trainers said.
Director of Animal Care Diane Young was happy with Winter's performance on Thursday. But like most youngsters, she did lose her concentration.
"She (went off) and played with the herring," she said. "It's like, 'I have a big candy bar in my mouth and I'm not interested (in training) right now, but I'll come back when I'm ready.' "


(another angle on the story found here)

field of dreams v. hill of screams

Local news here in the Bay Area is going on and on about this newsworthy story (actually, I now see it has even hit the AP).

A Danville family (think land of "Richie Rich"), was feeling like the local parks were just too crowded for a decent little league practice. Besides, Daddy couldn't make it to practice on time to coach (musta been that long winding drive from the hilltop mansion down to the flats, eh Pops?).

Anyhow. So their solution? They build a baseball diamond for Junior and his team on their "spare" lot.

You're looking at $300k worth of the new and improved artificial turf, plus batting cages, and 14 high foot fences to prevent stray balls leaving foul ball territory.

Problem is, Mommy+Daddy never got a building permit, and it their Field of Dreams is not up to code. Especially in terms of meeting the "preserving the skyline" clause.


I'm kind of confused about how the house itself preserved the skyline, but whatever.

So the neighbors are bitching about the view being ugly. The city has decided they need to dismantle the whole thing. Or appeal the thing. I think Mommy is pissed because her idea was to just plant a bunch of trees around it and camouflage it.

This whole thing has kinda made me wonder if my own neighbors are up to code.

Behold. My own little piece of skyline view (not Danville)...

...this being the view I see from the kitchen window and/or from the den-office-spare bedroom.

Yes, folks. Indeed, that would be a trampoline perched on a hillside.



And it's a very steep hillside. And the thing is also quite perched.



No, I have never seen anyone on it. I've been casually keeping an eye on it since we moved here. I'm kinda thinking there was only ever one person stupid enough to take a jump on it, and they are probably still in traction up in that room in the upper right corner.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not eeeeven complaining about the view here. I actually find this whole trampoline thing a fun little oddity. Nice little conversaton piece ("Have you seen anyone on it?"..."Why no, I have not."..."Let's sneak up there and do it!")

And besides. Why complain. Anything beats the view my last neighbor gave me.

to knit or not to knit?

I suppose I could scan my own blog for the specifics of timing, but since I am a lazy slacker....
let's just say that it was probably early spring when I put my knitting down.

Like down, down. Really down. Like I think I have knit 3-5 rounds on a sock in six-months, down. Like maybe so far down that maybe I have quit knitting, down.

(I bet your mouth is hanging open or you aren't breathing)


I'm guessing it was early March or so, and I had finished my very first shawl. I cast on for a pair of socks just in case I got "the twitch", but the goal was to give knitting a rest once the shawl was complete.

I'd accepted a settlement in the lawsuit about that time, but there were still many legal and financial details consuming my attention. I was on the hunt for a house that a person with a disability could actually function in. I was purging the contents of my old house in preparation of the move. I was purchasing the home itself, and shopping around for contents for the new house. I was dealing with a gaggle of contractors who were updating and adapting the new house. I was dealing with the transferring of personal accounts and services, and getting the documents in order for the school. And let's not forget the packing. I was packing. And packing. And packing.

I told myself that this was no time to get sucked into a knitting project.
I had to stay focused.
And I did.
And now that phase of my life is over.
And still I haven't picked up the knitting.

In spring, when I put the knitting aside, someone important to me said something, and it has been ringing in my ears ever since:
"I bet you put down the knitting and don't pick it back up again. I bet you're going to give it up entirely. It was just a phase. I think it was something you used to keep yourself out of the loonie-bin while you were dealing with the lawsuit stress." (See, she had her own similar experience. She would obsessively stay up into the wee hours make collages and doing papercrafting that involved teensy weensy shapes cut out into silhouettes using teensy weensy little scissors. Oh yes, and gluesticks. By the case, if I recall. --- I actually own some of that art. Which is good, because I like it, and she gave up making them right after her own legal issues settled.)

Anyhow, I told her, "Nuh uhhhhh.....no, no, no, knitting is not like that for me. I knit when I was a kid, and as in my 20's too, if you'll recall. And now knitting is a big part of who I am, and my creativity, and it is how I relax. I just can't knit right now because I can't get distracted by the knitting like I do. I have to get all this shit wrapped up, and it is all time consuming."

The move was in mid-July. I knew things would shift. I dedicated an entire bookshelf to my knitting supplies. The spinning wheel (I still haven't learned to use properly) greets me as I walk through my front door. I started to carry my sock-in-progress with me again. I set out a basket of yarn and waited for them to talk to me about what to make next.

And the magic hasn't happened.

I still haven't knit.

I keep waiting for that compelling urge to create with my hands, and at least I do I get it...but I use it to cook instead (not a bad thing, because cooking had been on hold for as long, if not longer, than the knitting--and I have been entertaining once or twice a week, yay!).

But still, I'm not knitting. I find myself stuck somewhere with 20 minutes to kill, and it never occurs to me to pull out the sock and knit on it. I go into book stores, and I don't even visit the knitting section anymore. I have visited my new local yarn shop, but only because a friend that was visiting had to get some needles. I hadn't even made a bee-line for the shop on my own. And when I got inside the store with her? I didn't have that thing...you know...that thing...when you see the yarn, and you have all these fantasies about what you would make out of (whether you buy it or not), or maybe you don't even know what you'd make out of it, but you just know you have to have it because it is gorgeous and well....you'll figure it out later.

Dudes, the yarn store was a good one. Loaded with gorgeous stuff.
I didn't drool, I didn't fondle, I didn't covet.
I didn't even feel the pull of sock yarn. WTF???!!!

I've been kinda wondering if this is the end of the road for me and knitting.
Last week I was even thinking that I really could use that bookshelf full of knitting stuff for something else, and that I was certain there were a few people in my life that would be glad to help me unload my stash.

Well, Thursday something happened.
I had a massage.
The closing of my escrow was such a bugger, that the realtor gave me a gift certificate for a massage in a card thanking me for my business. I had decided to make the appointment for this week, since MyFavoriteKid started back to school on Monday.

The massage was awesome, and without my going into my beliefs about the magical powers of bodywork, I will say that she definitely moved around some stuck energy. I knew it was stuck in my big achy muscles for sure, and I wasn't too surprised when she found it in all of those tiny little crevices and those odd little places where I am always surprised to be holding tension.

Well, after the massage was over, the massage therapist and I chat for a bit, and I'm not even sure how we got on the topic, but it turns out that she knits. A lot. And she felts. And she's obsessed fiber.

I'm sitting there drinking water, all happy and rubbed down and blissed out, and I'm listening to her talk about Koigu and cashmere and something about lace and shawls and who-knows-what-else-because-it-all-kind-of-ran-together-because-I-was-still-floaty....

....but I sorta had the colors of Koigu all spinning around in my head like a kaleidoscope while she was talking, and then I started seeing images of all of the things I have knit in Koigu, and all of the things I would like to knit in Koigu.....and, well... here I am, less than 48 hours later....and I feel like knitting.


I am woke up early this morning because I couldn't sleep, so I started flipping through the copy of Stephanie Japel's Fitted Knits I bought last night. Of course, I'm wondering what time the yarn store opens. The sock I am (still) working on is sitting here and I am doing a few rows while I read knitting blogs. But what I really want to be doing right this very second (ie NOW) is casting on for that little cardigan with the leaf ties, and if I were at home (but I'm not...because I am at TheMostImportantGuy's for the weekend) I am certain I have enough of some yummy Rowan stashed away that would be perfect for it, so who needs to go shopping for yarn...but hey, now I do want to go yarn shopping, and hey...while I'm at it maybe I should pick up some of those Addi turbo's for lace...gee, I haven't tried those yet...you know, just to have them around in case I want to work with that deep read alpaca laceweight I bought awhile back...and hey, you know, fall is coming, and over the knee socks would be really great so I should make some out of the Socks That Rock I have stashed...and ooooooooo!! I have a solution for my bathroom window---I really should create some sort of window covering for it....and and and....



I have a hunch the massage therapist did a little more than just massage my weary muscles ;-)

To knit or not to knit?
Is it even a question?

once

It is a rare moment to see me pimping, promoting, or reviewing any sort of product, book, or movie on this blog. I choose to leave that to folks have that talent.

So hear me loud and clear: If I am telling you about something I have used, read, or seen, it's because it has had a deep impact on me and I don't want you to miss out on a great thing.



You need to go see this movie.
I mean, you really need to go see this movie.
It's called "Once".
I went just because it was billed as a "modern musical", and because it got a 97% positive rating on Rotten Tomatoes (TheMostImportantGuy's favorite site for deciding whether or not a movie is worth his $10 and his time).


In my 'hood, it's finishing a run at a small local "art" theater, so it may be hard to find where you live. But if you can find it playing, GO. And if you can't find it playing anywhere, keep an eye out for it on video.


I'm not going to tell you much about the content of the movie. You can get a good taste by visiting the Official Website of the movie, or something.


But I will tell you is this much:

Usually if a movie is going to make me cry, it's because the character development has been super solid and rich. Then when something happens to the character, I am connected and touched and I somehow relate, so I get all choked up.

But with this movie, it was the actual character development ITSELF that had my eyes watering, and I don't think I have ever had that happen (it was a happy cry, actually---ever have those?).

For me, this movie spoke about that precious moment in life when you meet someone who actually "gets you", and it captured that elusive thing both magically and powerfully, primarily through music.

Since the movie has sort of been swirling around me me for days (I saw it Sunday)....and since I loved the music so much....I bought the soundtrack. I popped it in the cd player while driving home from the music store....I got a few tracks in, and all of the sudden started bawling my eyes out so badly that I had to pull over and stop the car LOLOL. Now, I didn't have that sort of sob session in the theater, so who the hell knows where that came from. But it was a good feeling cry. Maybe I should have a therapist analyze that.

Okay.
Now go.

takes one to know one

my favorite T-shirt, at present

if you want your own, get it here

MyFavoriteKid: How come when Nana and Papa come over, you make them a snack without them even asking...and when IIIIIIIIIII want a snack, I have to ask for it.

Me: Because the are guests.

MyFK: But I am a guest, too!!

Me: (laughing) No, you aren't!! You live here, dude!

MyFK: Yeah, but I GUESSED that I live here.

Reading this post, I am betting that what made it such a hilarious punchline was it being delivered orally.

Or maybe you just had to be there.

But I was there, and I split a gut.

Then I promptly made up a plate of cheese, crackers, and apple slices.

Without his asking.

tulips sure, but it's not all wine and roses over here

I need to tell you about Monday, because I just can't seem to shake it.

I took MyFavoriteKid to camp for the day, which used to be about 20 minutes away, but is now a 40 minuted drive since the move (he has one week left--he begged to hold on to something familiar during the move/transition). Rather than drive him to camp, commute back home to the new house while he is in camp, and then drive back again later to pick him up, I have been trying to find things to do in the old 'hood.

On Monday, I decided to kill the day window shopping in and around Berkeley. I started on 4th Street, which is not a place I typically frequent. It's fun and boutique-y, but a little snobby with high price tags, which is not how I like to spend money. I did, however, want to go there to visit this one little shop that sells Japanese paper for this framing project I am working on.

Now, I don't know how this happens, but I will go for weeks without people reminding me (directly or indirctly) that I am a gimp. Weeks. Instead, you see, the universe seems to save it all up for me, and then bitch slaps me with it about once a month or so.

Monday was my day.

Encounter Number One, while leaving a ridiculously overpriced shoe store:
Salesman: Here, I will get the door for you.
Me: No thanks, I have it.
Salesman: (literally climbing over my wheelchair to get in front of me and open it anway...he then bends down, putting his face near mine as if to whisper, but announces loudly...) "I know about you people. You people don't like anyone doing anything for you because it makes you feel disabled."
Me: If you know that, then why are you doing it.
SalesAss (ignoring me entirely): You know, I had this one guy once yell at me for opening the door for him because it makes him feel disabled, but I open the door for everyone.
Me: Well, I can't speak for all of my people but I think as a rule, it would be nice if you asked us if we need help, rather than telling us we are going to be helped. Like maybe if you tried, "Can I get the door for you?" that would be better than, "I AM going to get the door for you." That way we can choose yes or no. Sometimes my hands are full and help is welcomed, and other times I am fine on my own, and prefer to take care of myself.
Ass (still ignoring me entirely): You know, every year this man comes through on a wheelchair and sells Christmas cards, and every year I buy them and give them to my family, and I tell my children, "Do you know who made these cards?? I man in a wheelchair! He does something, and you do nothing!!"
Me: Have a great day, please excuse me.


Encounter Number Two , buying a magazine at a bookstore:
RegisterLady: Can I get you anything else?
Me: No thanks, that's all.
RL: What happened?
Me: (knowing full well what she is asking) Well, you didn't have the magazine I was looking for, so I picked up this one.
RL: No, I meant your leg.
Me: Oh, I thought you were asking me something relevant to my purchase.
(long pause, long silence)
RegisterLady: Well...so....how'd it happen?
Me: *sigh*


Encounter Number Three, at the Crate & Barrel Outlet:
I was looking at (handling) a glass serving dish that was at (my) eye level (your hip level). I was just about to put it back on the shelf, and a saleswoman swoops---I swear---out of nowhere, grabs it out of my hands mid air so she can "help"me put it back on the shelf.
I'm ruffled, but I don't say anything, because I'm already pissed from encounters one and two, plus I can tell she's the type that ain't gonna get it anyhow. So I leave.

On to Z-Gallery for Encounter Number Four:
I just ambled about the store looking at this and that, and kept going until I had made my way clear across the other end of the store. Once I got there, I realized I could not get back. Apparently, I had somehow taken the one and only route through the store that a wheelchair could fit through, and I forgot to leave a trail of breadcrumbs. I tried retracing my steps (ok, wheeltracks), but all other possible paths were too narrow. I didn't get to look at probably 70% of what was in the store. But that was fine, because at that point I was too pissed to ever want to buy anything there anyhow.

Encounter Number Five:
A man does a little side-step-sachet-dance-move and finally comes to a complete halt to the side of me. So he could get out of my way. As I went down the sidewalk. Which was 5-feet wide. And there was nobody else on it but the two of us.

Encounter Number Six:
Realizing people on the street are scared of getting their toes squished, and that I can't get into half of the stores anyhow, I ditch the wheelchair and decide to try this again on crutches. I next make a small purchase in a card store, which has a high counter (good thing I was on crutches, eh?). The lady hands me my change and says, "I hope you get your cast off soon! Feel better!!"
Duh.

Encounter Number Seven:
No adult in sight, a little girl of about 7 or 8 walks up and says, "What happened to your leg?"
Me: (this is old hat, I like it when kids ask, so I'm actually quite comfortable with this one): "Oh, I had an accident and my leg got really broken and they couldn't fix it."
(I test the response, checking for how much more info to give)
Girl: "Ohhhh that is sooooo sad!! It must have hurt!!"
Me: "No, actually I am just fine, and it didn't hurt. I didn't feel it. It was like a surgery, where they put you to sleep and you dont feel anything."
Girl (looks up, closes her eyes, puts her hands together, and starts to pray REALLY LOUDLY): " Dear Lord, Please let the one legged lady not hurt and not be so sad, and I hope she feels better soon. Amen. "
She spins around on her heels and leaves.
My mouth hangs open.

Encounter Number Eight, back at Crate & Barrel, apparently a glutton for punishment because apparently that serving platter was apparently just that important, and screw that platter-snatching-employee, because it was on sale 40% off:
As I walk in the store, YuppieMom and her two girls go ahead of me and mom lets go of the door and it slams me in the shoulder and almost knocks me down. The youngest girl sees me (she's about 7), but rather than be shocked that the door hit me, she's gawking at my leg. And now there I am, hoping like hell that the little angel doesn't say anything to me, because who knows what wrath she will encounter. I've already reached my limit for one day.
I do everything humanly possible to stay on the exact opposite side of the store from YuppieMom and her offspring, but NOooooooooo......
I hear from across the store, "But MOMMMMMM, I need to SHOW you!!"
I try to run for the door, which is a bad idea when you are on crutches and you are in a store that is basically a room full of glass objects, floor to ceiling (an honest-to-goodness bull in china shop).
I go behind a big display of summer stuff on sale, but the little gawking girl heads me off at the pass, dragging her mom behind her by the hand.
LittleGirl: See, mom? Look!!! She only has one leg!! WHY does she only have one leg?!!!! She only has one!!!
**Note to all parents: This is the part where you should say something like, "Why I'm not sure, dear. We could ask her, and then see if she feels like talking to us about it."
YuppieMom makes a loud hush, spins on her heels and drags kid away from me.
Me: (loud enough to make sure she hears me, and potentially scarring the child for life): Yeah, well I might only have one leg, but both of my ears are still there, and at least I have half a brain!!!

OMG, I cannot believe I did that.
hahahahaha
I am so twisted that I actually felt like shit and felt happy about it all at the same time.


So, I kid you not. This was actually how my day went. I am not making up one single bit of it. None. And I will go weeks without another episode (aside from the usual gawking, which is daily). But then--wahbamm!! I will have another day like this.

I would like to know if there is something I am doing that causes this to happen. Am I wearing a Gimp Sticker on those days?? A "Kick me--I'll roll or fall down" sign?? Is it just me PMS-ing or something and being more sensitive than usual? Who knows.

Actually, Monday I was wearing pants. When I do that, I tuck the leg up in the waistband. Prior to Monday, I'd been wearing mostly skirts and dresses, which seem to make me a wee bit less obvious. Is that it? Do the pants attract more attention??

I will say one thing.....coming home at the end of the day made the whole Eight Part Experience go away. Prior to moving, I would be out in the shitty world, and then I would go back to my shitty home, and life was shitty inside and out.

This time, I came home to my new house with the fruit trees and the birds and the big bubble bath and the fireplace....and to family coming over to watch a baseball game, and toast with champagne.....and the earlier part of the day just went away (for a little while, then I stewed about it some more...which seems to be my practice).

But I can see that having a sanctuary to come home to is going to make facing the world a whole lot easier.

a note from the prophet

snagged from John over at Napkin Please ...

Your Life Path Number is 11

Your purpose in life is to inspire others Your amazing energy draws people to you, and you give them great insight in return. You hold a great amount of power over others, without even trying. You have the makings of an inventor, artist, religious leader, or prophet. In love, you are sensitive and passionate. You connect with your partner on a very deep level. You have great abilities, but you are often way too critical of yourself. You don't fit in - and instead of celebrating your differences, you dwell on them. You have high expectations of yourself. But sometimes you set them too high and don't achieve anything.

What Is Your Life Path Number?

'ello

I get up every morning
determined to change the world
& have one hell of a good time.

Sometimes this makes
planning the day difficult.

E.B. White

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can't even tell you how many times I have tried to post something and then been sidetracked by the whispers of items still in boxes....you misssss me...unpaaaaack me......you neeeeeeed me.....

Oy.

Well, it has been paying off to keep unpacking. Lookie! No more boxes in the livingroom.

Okay, well....except these two boxes (but they have a purpose):

Like my coffee table? Hahahaha. Yeah, well...for now...IT WORKS.
See, if you go back to that first photo, there should be a bookcase in that corner there where that basket is. The bookcases aren't here yet, and I haven't found a coffee table I like....so the boxes full of books, plus a piece of glass left behind by the last owner...? Viola. My "new" coffee table.

Actually, that first photo was taken before I created my designer coffee table. I took it so that I could show off the hardwood floors I had installed before I moved in. If you recall, the floors used to look like this before I moved in:

OoooBoy. There was no way I was keeping white carpets being a wheelchair user who lives with a 10 year-old little boy.

But I lamented over the floor selection. LAMENTED.

I knew I loved the darker woods. I knew that when I looked in magazines, the rooms that made me oooh and ahhh were the ones with darker floors. I also knew that I didn't know squat about decorating, and had lived with white walls my entire life. Here I was about to plop down a very big bundle on something that I couldn't replace or just paint over if I made a little "whoopsie" with my color choice. I had this huge fear (instilled in me by many) that the floors would be too dark and would suck the light out of the house. Some people told me that it would be too dark in here, and that it would make the room look too small or make it feel like you were floating, even.

I wasn't posting during that period of time, and be very glad, because every single person within earshot of me(or available on instant messenger) heard me freaking out about the floors. I mean, like really freaking out. It had the potential of being the biggest financial mistake in my entire life, because I have never spent so much money on something I wasn't entirely sure would work for me.

Well, as it turns out, the floors are gorgeous. The wood I chose is called "Tiete Chestnut". What makes it work in here is that it has a finish on it that actually shines light back into the room, so even though the floors are a bit darker, they actually make the room a bit brighter. The whole space is now very warm feeling, both to look at and to the touch.

I am very thankful for all of you folks who encouraged me to trust my gut and go with what I knew I loved, even though I wasn't sure it would work or not, and that it might be a costly mistake that I would have to live with for a verrrrry long time.

Thanks also, to all who commented about the orange kitchen. I love it, too!!

As for the dishwasher, well....I just had to kiss it. I have never lived in a place with a dishwasher before. This is a first for me! Growing up, my parents said they didn't need a dishwasher, because they already had TWO (my sister and I, hardy har har).

I am off to bed, but here is a shot of where I sat to type this post.

at the diningroom table

G'night ;-)

on the flipside

We. Have. Arrived.
It's been two weeks since moving day, and although there is still plenty of unpacking to be done, the house is in a pleasantly liveable state.

I've been trying to get back on the blogging horse for a few days now putting together a massive post full of photos of the house, but I can see it is a task that is big enough to keep me from doing anything at all. SO how 'bout a mini-tour over the next couple of posts, eh? Want a peek?

Here's a tiny bit of my kitchen...

My BrightFuckingOrangeKitchen. Which I am totally in love with. Besides being so vibrant, it is open to the diningroom and most of livingroom, so I don't feel isolated when I am cooking. The kitchen in the old house was totally closed off to the rest of the house, which was great for hiding a mess, but I do much better when I am forced to clean up because it is visible, and when I dont have to be alone while doing it. In the old kitchen, even if someond did want to keep me company, there was no place for them to sit or even stand without getting in the way. Cooking and cleanin up had become a punishmnet. Like being on detention or something. I didn't enjoy cooking, and it all explains why the dishes would pile up, too.

Not in this house, though. Now I can clean up after cooking and be talking to people or be watching tv or listening to music. Of course, the new house has this sweet little baby, which aint hurtin' any:

yes, that is me taking a picture of myself kissing my dishwasher. I wonder how long it will be before my neighbors find out what a loon I am

Soon there will be a breakfast bar installed attached to the main kitchen counter, and then folks can sit and hang out and visit and eat while I cook.

This house is built for entertaining. WHEEEE!! (come on over. anytime. seriously. take me up on it. this is the first time in a long time that I would actually not dread surprise visits.)

The kitchen is already organized to the point of amazing efficiency, and I will show you some of that soon, as well as tell you a bit about how it got that way...because yes, it IS just that interesting how it got that way.

More soon, but today is the day I upack THE YARN!

smoke signal

Moving day is (finally) here. It's happening this Friday.

just a portion of the wall o' box

Yes, I am moving on a Friday the 13th.

No, I do not think it is a bad omen (besides, the first full day in the new house is a new moon, which in my mind trumps that).

Yes, it has literally taken me this many weeks to both pack up the old house and also get the new house ready. I am frustrated that this whole packing process, plus dealing with multiple contractors at the new place, has sucked the life out of me...and I am bummed that it and kept me away from my blog (not only mine, but yours, too). There is no way in hell I would have gotten everything done if I was distracted by the warm fuzzy glow of my favorite screen, though.

Thanks soooo much to all who emailed or posted to ask me how I am doing.
I am doing fine.
I cannot, however, say the same for the cat:

clearly there have been a few occasions where it has been every "man" for himself

I cannot wait to be out of the old house and into the new one. You can't get me out of here soon enough. Occasional little outings in the new neighborhood have been the only thing that has saved me from....ohhhh....putting a bag over my head.

sound advice from Dell's packaging dept.

I have plenty to look forward to. Look at my new hood...

taken about 15 minutes north of my new place...I took the shot from the passenger seat while the car was moving....I didn't even notice the bunnies until just now!

one really great burger joint sitting on a quiet stretch of
river

Just a few more days and the dust will settle (yay!! no more dust bunnies!!...just real ones)....

and then I'll be back ;-)

oh no here we go

Today I drove down to TheMostImportantGuy's work and took him out for a birthday lunch. Then we went back to his office to divvy-up a big ol' carrot cake with his coworkers.

I arrived home from lunch just in time to receive this delivery:

doesn't kitty look thrilled?

If you don't see smoke signals rising up out of the bubble wrap every few days, send out the troops.