I Didn't Die

Yesterday I was out for a work trip. Work trips involve flying. If you know me, you know how I feel about it. That's why this article (How Not to Die in a Plane Crash) made me giggle a little. But only a little--because my crazy side agrees with a lot of these points.

7. Monitor the departure time. If your flight is delayed, keep in mind that it’s probably because the pilot and crew know that the airplane is full of cracks, and they’re buying time. If your flight is on time: well, that’s weird. It’s almost suspiciously on time.

9. Try to make eye contact with the captain. Give him or her a meaningful look when he or she says, “Welcome aboard.” It should be friendly, but stern, but respectful, but threatening. Show that you’re terrified, but also really strong and normal.

11. Look for babies. This is important because a) probably nothing can happen to babies. And b) they’ll be the first to know that something is wrong. They’re like cats.

16. Don’t talk to your seatmate, because he or she might be afraid of flying too. Then you’ll have a fear-off and the plane will commit suicide from listening to the two of you.

Rave On

If you read kottke.org, you've probably already seen this, but there's a collection of Buddy Holly covers coming out and I've been listening to the album pretty much non-stop. There are some clunkers (Sir Paul, I'm looking at you) but "Peggy Sue," "Rave On," "Crying, Waiting, Hoping" and a lot of others are really well done.

Of course, the songs themselves stand up to just about any treatment--major thirds and surf drums are pretty hard to screw up.

Rave On Buddy Holly by concordmusicgroup

Tuesday Project Roundup: Party Dress

Over the weekend I finally had a big housewarming party. It was a lot of work, but to be fair, I decided to further add to the workload by making a new dress for it:

This is essentially the same pattern as the other tunic dress I made in May, just with a higher neckline, a shorter hem, and elbow sleeves (I was copying the style below, from EmersonMade--just not in boring black, of course).

The fabric I used is Amy Butler home decor-weight twill, so it's very, um, structured. But I like it. And I pulled it off. Because I can sew dresses AND throw parties.

Watch Out For Snakes!

I went up into the foothills behind Red Butte yesterday afternoon because I wanted to think and get some sun and work on my poem memorization. I consider myself a cautious hiker (I stick to trails with cell reception when I'm alone; I always have food and water and a first aid kit, etc.) but I think I need to pay a little more attention to my surroundings and a little less to what's in my head from now on.

I was walking along and brooding and passing what I thought was a stick until, mid-pass, my brain registers, "Holy shit that's a rattlesnake." I won't say I nearly stepped on him but I was a LOT closer than I would have been had I seen him right away.

Fortunately, Snake seemed pretty relaxed in the sun, all stretched out and looking like a stick. I got some better distance between us and checked him out--about eighteen inches long and diamond patterned (nice camouflage, buddy!).

Then, of course, I paid a lot more attention to the trail for the rest of the hike.



(Do any Misties out there get the post title? No googling!)

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Yesterday I finally had sod installed! It's one of the miracles of the modern age.

2. Speaking of miracles, this is a clever site that treats 1950's advertising like religious iconography (ironically, of course).

3. The even*cleveland blog has featured women aviators this week. I really love the photos of the Women's Flying Training Detachment she found in the LIFE archives.

It's OK To Be A Cat Guy

I think people should just own their crazy cat lady (or man) tendencies, but apparently there's still some barriers to overcome. That's why I like this series of ads for a California animal rescue telling us, "It's OK to be a cat guy." No, they're not subtle. But there are cats. And guys.

Bake Sale For SETI?

Remember how I mentioned that SETI was shutting down the Allen Telescope Array due to lack of funds? Well, there's been enough public outcry that they've set up a fundraising site, SETIstars, specifically for getting the ATA back up and listening. From the About page:

We have launched SETIstars to formalize the significant giving that has already happened since the announcement of ATA’s hibernation and to be the start of a broader community engagement strategy for the SETI Institute.

The current goal is to raise $200,000 in the next 38 days--and they're 10% there! Donate to help them out (since I don't think they'll take me up on the idea of a bake sale).

Tuesday Project Roundup: Hamburglar Chic All Year Long

I'm so happy that it's finally warm out, but a few weeks ago I realized I missed wearing my striped coat everywhere. The lack of hamburger-stealing stripes made a definite hole in my wardrobe--so I fixed that.

I got more of the same IKEA canvas when I was down buying my TV stand (I love IKEA so much) and used a pattern from the Burda site. Other than forgetting to add seam allowances to the pattern download (oops! I fudged on the side seams), this went together easily, in about a day.

Now I can burgle burgers in the summer heat!

Monday Poem

I've recently discovered Galway Kinnell, so here's part of a longer poem for today. Because what else is poetry for, if not to remind us that nothing is permanent?

From Little Sleep-Head's Hair Sprouting in Moonlight:

5.

If one day it happens
you find yourself with someone you love
in a café at one end
of the Pont Mirabeau, at the zinc bar
where white wine stands in upward opening glasses,

and if you commit then, as we did, the error
of thinking,
one day all this will only be memory,

learn,
as you stand
at this end of the bridge which arcs,
from love, you think, into enduring love,
learn to reach deeper
into the sorrows
to come – to touch
the almost imaginary bones
under the face, to hear under the laughter
the wind crying across the black stones. Kiss
the mouth
which tells you, here,
here is the world. This mouth. This laughter. These temple bones.

The still undanced cadence of vanishing.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Happy early Fathers' Day to all the dads out there--including my own excellent father and my big brother, who is the lucky daddy of this morsel:
Seriously. This baby is so cute I can't stand it.

2. I am debating whether I can pull this shirt off. I think it goes without saying that I really, really want to. (And honestly, is it any geekier than my Sagan t-shirt?)
(Don't get it? Watch this. Enjoy.)

Black Is Hot, White Is Return, Green Is Ground

Have you ever wondered why I've never posted a full shot of my kitchen? It was because I hated the industrial florescent light fixture in it. But now I can show pictures (and only cavil at the cabinets being wood, not white) because look--new lights!
Matching new lights! (Yes, I still need a dining table.)

I made my father come over last weekend and change out lights--but don't worry, I watched and learned. I could totally do the next one.

Here's a detail. These are not fancy (I had no idea how much you can spend on lighting!) but they give the look I want (mod!).

Oh, Snap

This exchange from Across the River and Into the Trees has always haunted me. I was rearranging books this week and found some old journals and, yes, poems and had to think of it.

"Es un oficio bastante malo," he repeated, "loving me."
"Yes. But it is the only one I have."
"Don't you write any more poetry?"
"It was young girl poetry. Like young girl painting. Everyone is talented at a certain age."

SNAP!

Tuesday Project Roundup: Mixed Success

This week's projects had about a 50% success rate. Let's start with the one that worked out:
I finally got the shower curtain for the guest bath done. (As I didn't have any guests clamoring to use the shower, there wasn't a lot of motivation.) It's just a rectangle with some buttonholes at the top, so it went pretty quickly.

Above, you can see the tiger painting ended up in the guest bath...

...but can you spot the tiger descendant in this picture?

The not-so-successful project was some DIY art I tried to paint for the living room. I was inspired by this artist's watercolor chevrons:

But since I don't like prints of paintings and I thought the chevrons could be even MORE colorful, I decided to try my own. I was being cocky and thought, "I'm so good with color, I don't even need to plan out the order of my stripes--I'll just see what inspires me."

Well, as the boy I was desperately in love with years ago said to me after we watched Wuthering Heights, "Let this be a lesson to us all." I don't think I could have made this uglier if I tried:

I mean....wow. Not a success. Looking at it, I can see how re-arranging the color order would fix it, but I think I have learned that painting is not for me. I'll stick with fabric.

Sometimes, It's All It Takes

I've had three criteria for selecting a boyfriend* for about the last decade, but recently I'm throwing random things into the mix (Sunday I just wanted to meet someone who'd actually ordered from the J. Peterman catalog). Then I saw this on my friend Kara's Pinterest and thought, "OK, new selection rule!" Because sometimes, that's all it takes for me:


*Be tall. Read books. Don't be crazy. I say I'll allow two out of three but historically, I've gone as low as one.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I got to spend some time with Skyler last night. Just look at this baby:
He was smiling at me and making all sorts of faces and I only let his little head flop once. (He's already mostly holding it up! My nephew is the smartest baby on the planet.)

2. Speaking of awesome people hanging out together (see what I did there?), I've been enjoying awesomepeoplehangingouttogether.tumblr.com.

3. Make sure you send your name to Mars by Monday. You get a certificate and everything!

Let's Get Some Soul

I've been listening to early (non-gospel) Candi Staton a lot lately, because it is just. so. fab. Who doesn't need to hear some gravelly-voiced, steely-souled lady singing about love gone wrong? Add a horn section and it's just about perfect.

Even if you don't usually listen to anything I post, I think you should listen to this: there's an awesome guitar intro, overdriven vocals, that horn section, a really slick modulation at about 1:45--and Candi herself, of course.


I would love to find this on vinyl. My monolithic media cabinet has space for a turntable...

The Martian List

This is a neat thing I just read about: you can send your name to Mars! Submit your name on the NASA site and it will be included with others on a microchip on the Mars Science Laboratory rover. Hurry, you only have until Monday to add your name--do it here.

(What happened to picking cool names for the rovers, like Sojourner, Pathfinder, Spirit and Opportunity? This one's just the "Mars Science Laboratory"? Did I miss a contest somewhere?)

(And wouldn't naming space program stuff be the best job ever?)

Tuesday Project Roundup: What I've Been Doing Instead Of Sewing

The short answer: gardening and spending money.

On Saturday, I mounted planter boxes to the railings of my tiny deck (all on my own!), visited two nurseries, and then planted lots of pots.

The long view, with some more pots:
(Ignore the fact that I STILL HAVE NO LAWN AFTER FOUR MONTHS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, BUILDER.)

There are also pots by the front door:

Sunday I focused on the indoors and went TV and flat-pack furniture shopping. I returned with something resembling the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey:
(I have not had to hit it with a bone. Yet.)

The TV stand is IKEA--not bad for Sweden, right? I have to thank my dad for braving IKEA with me, hauling everything around, and helping me assemble. Thanks, Dad!

And here's one last picture showing a little more of how the monolith fits in the room:

Summer? Are You Here? Will You Stay?

I quoted from Dandelion Wine at the beginning of June last year, and I will do it again this year if that will make this weather stick around. (I was outside a lot this weekend and I think the whole world was doing yard work.)

Once each year, he woke this way and lay waiting for the sound which meant that summer had officially begun. And it began on a morning such as this when a boarder, a nephew, a cousin, a son or a grandson came out on the lawn below and moved in consecutively smaller quadrangles north and east and south and west with a clatter of rotating metal through the sweet summer grass. Clover blossoms, the few unharvested dandelions fires, ants, sticks, pebbles, remnants of last year's July Fourth squibs and punks, but predominantly clear green, a fount leaped up from the chattering mower.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. It's Toby's (observed) birthday today! (I know he was born in June so I just gave him the third, the same date as my birthday, to make it easy to remember.) Toby is now four--they grow up so fast, sniff. He got a new scratching post for his present.

2. It's also the birthday of beat poet extraordinaire Allan Ginsberg. Who here hasn't recited "Howl" in high school?

3. Have you heard about the 73-year-old Japanese pensioner who is getting together a crew of old guys to go help shut down the Fukushima reactors?
The Skilled Veterans Corps, as they call themselves, is made up of retired engineers and other professionals, all over the age of 60. They say they should be facing the dangers of radiation, not the young.

Well done, old guys.

Feeding Myself

I am a few days into a funk of not knowing what to eat--which, if you've met me, is kind of a big deal, because I pretty much get through the days by looking forward to the next meal. It's a problem.

I got home last night and nothing sounded good but then I thought, "Maybe an omelette?" And I made one and it almost hit the spot and reminded me of this quote from M.F.K. Fisher's "A is for Dining Alone" essay:

I treated myself fairly dispassionately as a marketable thing, at least from ten to six daily, in a Hollywood studio story department, and I fed myself to maintain top efficiency...I tried to apply what I knew of proteins and so forth to my own chemical pattern, and I deliberately scrambled two eggs in a little sweet butter when quite often I would have liked a glass of sherry and a hot bath and to hell with food.

It's Wednesday

Lay on it like a rug and show it who's the most adorable: