Friday Unrelated Information

1. It. Is. Friday. At last.

2. Have you seen the overdubbed video of Rick Perry, as translated by a bad lip reader? It's fantastic:

3. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Commas matter, people!

Trivia

The Writer's Almanac posted all sorts of trivia about Michaelmas today (and got a little far out at the end of their sentence here):

In the Christian world, today is Michaelmas, feast day of the archangel Michael, which was a very important day in times past, falling near the equinox and so marking the fast darkening of the days in the northern world, the boundary of what was and what is to be.

Other activities for the day that don't sound like Led Zeppelin lyrics included settling of accounts, giving geese to the poor, and eating blackberries, because "it is said that when Michael cast the Devil from Heaven, the fallen angel landed on a patch of blackberry brambles."

And there's your trivia for the day.

I Want To Write For The Ball Cookbook Company

Thanks to generous family and friends with fruit trees, I have both peaches and pears to can this week, which means I had to break out the canning cookbooks. Before this, I've skipped the chapter introductions in The Ball Blue Book Guide to Preserving, but now I know what I've been missing. From the chapter introduction to "High-Acid Foods":

As you gaze with pride on the colorful jars in your pantry packed with nature's best, the sense of accomplishment you feel is rivaled only by the sumptuous goodness you'll enjoy when you unseal them--for one delicious meal after another.

Or consider the lead to the "Soft Spreads" chapter:
Preserving is about more than food. When your home is filled with the fragrant aroma of sweet spreads simmering on the stove, you are preserving memories that last a lifetime.

Questionable use of "sumptuous" notwithstanding, well done, Ball Cookbook Writer. You are selling the hell out of the concept of home canning. Maybe I need to join your team, because I haven't been able to muster that sort of enthusiasm for technology, hotels, or insurance benefits in a long time.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Hear Me Roar, Etc.

Look! I finally finished the leopard pencil skirt!

This is a direct copy of a now-sold out version I admired at J. Crew. J. Crew's was unlined stretch cotton. J. Crew's was $118. Mine is lined, with a kick pleat (versus a vent), and put me out about $18. J. Crew, who needs you?

Now that this is done, I'm thinking about a jacket of some sort in this black and white leopard. Because cat ladies love dressing like cats.

Better Living Through Profanity

It's Monday and it looks to be another Not So Fun week so I am coping with cat videos set to catchy songs that involve swearing.*



I love the faux excitement throughout and especially, especially the opening line. I'm going to go around humming "Holy [redacted], it's another [redacted] day, it's the best day ever AGAIN" today. And of course I'll be humming it ironically.

*Disclaimer: There's swearing throughout this, so d0n't watch it if such things are offensive to you. And of course I don't think cats are stupid as a rule, but you have to admit that there are some animals you meet that are happy for exactly the reasons the song states.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. It's the autumnal equinox today, which I would like a lot more if it didn't signal the beginning of the long descent into darkness. At least it's only three months to the solstice, right?

2. Blue Moon Ranch is having its seventh annual Open Barn Days this weekend. They've expanded to have the event on both Saturday and Sunday, so if you're attending a yoga retreat one day, you can still see alpacas and crias like Jethro here on the next:

The Outdoor Type

Not to give you another emo post today (sorry about that), but I'm going to share another coping strategy I've discovered this summer: Exercise. (I know--who am I?)

I've always been pretty sedentary, beyond an occasional hike or an easy bike ride, but as I said Monday I've been exploring Millcreek nearly every weekend--and that's in addition to going to yoga once a week. I've bought actual active wear. I'm attending a "yoga retreat" at the Cliff Lodge this weekend. I replaced my old hiking boots. Last Sunday I even woke up and did an hour of yoga with an online video. (Needless to say, my inner hippy has never been happier.)

But as active and outdoorsy as all this hiking and yoga is for me, I still am nowhere near the trail runners I see, or even the backpackers, which is why this song made me smile.



(And yes, I heard it on KRCL while driving home from yoga this week.)

You Know What This Means

Have you been reading long enough to realize that I post space pictures when things are tough? (If not, I guess I just gave myself away there.) Anyway, here is the Milky Way seen from the Himalayas (via).


Take a deep breath, get some hippy vibes from that if you can, and realize that bad days don't really matter on a galactic (or even Himalayan) scale.

Happy Birthday To My Brother

Happy birthday to my big brother today! He taught me how to drive a stick, makes me take care of my car, and yells at me when he thinks my blog is getting "too depressing." In other words, an ideal older brother--and now an awesome stay-at-home daddy, too.

Bob Frost

I don't read a lot of Robert Frost but The Writer's Almanac featured this poem over the weekend and I thought it was just right. I've been hiking in Millcreek Canyon pretty regularly since June and, climbing "the hills of view" on Saturday, I looked around and it was fall. Sigh.


Reluctance
by Robert Frost

Out through the fields and the woods
And over the walls I have wended;
I have climbed the hills of view
And looked at the world and descended;
I have come by the highway home,
And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,
Save those that the oak is keeping
To ravel them one by one
And let them go scraping and creeping
Out over the crusted snow,
When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last lone aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the feet question 'Whither?'

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?

I may end up memorizing this one instead of the Neruda for September/October--I think the rhythm would be nice to work on while hiking and I'm still not feeling my first choice. Also, I don't have any rhyming poems in my list, let alone any that allow me to say "and lo."

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Happy birthday to H.A. Rey, creator of Curious George. The Writer's Almanac tells me that
"he as also an astronomy enthusiast, and in addition to the beloved Curious George books, he wrote The Stars: A New Way to See Them in 1952. The book includes constellation diagrams with cartoon outlines to make them easier to remember and recognize. His new diagrams were widely adopted by other astronomical texts, and the book is regularly reissued as we learn more accurate information about our galaxy."
I had no idea! I know what I'm doing with the last few days of a trial Amazon Prime membership.

2. I've been wanting biscuits and (vegetarian) gravy for about two weeks now. I think I may end up with the counter-sitters at Blue Plate Diner this weekend.

3. And finally, who doesn't love a sci-fi pun on Ceylon tea? So say we all! (via)

Something Else To Ponder

Switch your thoughts from cows and jazz to Michael Cunningham and impermanence with this passage from The Hours. I don't even think it's as sad as I did when I first read it--now I think it offers some good perspective:

It had seemed like the beginning of happiness, and Clarissa is still sometimes shocked, more than 30 years later, to realize it was happiness; that the entire experience lay in a kiss and a walk, the anticipation of dinner and a book [...]

What lives undimmed in Clarissa's mind more than three decades later is a kiss at dusk on a patch of dead grass, and a walk around a pond while the mosquitoes droned in the darkening air. There is still that singular perfection, and it's perfect in part because it seemed, at the time, so clearly to promise more. Now she knows: That was the moment, right then. There has been no other.

Exactly What It Says

A video titled "Jazz for Cows" does, indeed, show people playing jazz for cows. Dixieland jazz. From a Utah band. For cows. In France.


Ponder that for your Wednesday.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Progress Report

I think I've gotten over my rut--over the weekend I started a pencil skirt:

And last night I finished the second sleeve of the sweater:

Also, the Hamburglar coat took first in the state fair, as reported by my brother.The collar baffled the fair ladies in charge of display, as I thought it might--but a ribbon's a ribbon, right?

MYFO Monday

Are you ready to Melt Your Face Off with cuteness? Look who came to visit my house Friday night:
He really liked the texture of the couch.


He also liked Toby, when he noticed him. (Toby didn't really know what to think.)

We even went out onto the new playground in the common area:

Nothing like a visit from Skyler to get the weekend off to a good start!

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Happy anniversary to my parents, married 39 years ago today. Next year I'll have to have a party for them for the big 4-0!

2. Happy birthday to Leo Tolstoy, born in 1828.

3. What happens when you put quotes about Steve Jobs to images from 2001: A Space Odyssey? You get Steve Kubrick, and you get something like this:
"But where to place the logo? It was keeping him awake at night."

He Looks Like I Feel

Toby is not convinced. About anything.
That is a face you don't mess with.

3+1 Things: On To Poem #5

It's time to move on to the penultimate poem in my 3+1 Things memorization project. The Mark Strand for July and August was just right for the end of summer and feeling a little sad, but the September/October poem I picked doesn't feel as appropriate.

Should I change poems to the Galway Kinnel I posted in June? To this? (That might be too sad, actually.) Or should I stick with the plan so I have at least one happier poem under my belt?

Here it is, if you want to help me decide:

Sonnet C, from 100 Love Sonnets, Pablo Neruda

In the center of the earth I will push aside
the emeralds so that I can see you--
you like an amanuensis, with a pen
of water, copying the green sprigs of plants.

What a world! What deep parsley!
What a ship sailing through the sweetness!
And you, maybe--and me, maybe--a topaz.
There'll be no more dissensions in the bells.

There won't be anything but all the fresh air,
apples carried on the wind,
the succulent book in the woods:

and there where the carnations breathe, we will begin
to make ourselves a clothing, something to last
through the eternity of a victorious kiss.

Tuesday Project Roundup: No Boots Before Labor Day

Boots after Labor Day are just fine, though--because now it's fall, right? I didn't do much with the long weekend but I did finally finish that orange dress:
For something that's pretty much a sack, it seemed to take a long time. On the other hand, there are a lot of nice details (topstitching, pockets) that made the sack a little fancier, albeit time-consuming. But overall, I'm happy with it.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I know I can't do anything about it, but the more children there are in those family stick figure cartoons on cars, the more they irritate me. That's why I loved today's xkcd comic (click to enlarge):

2. It's Labor Day on Monday and you know that means I'll be watching Picnic. I won't post anything on the holiday, but be sure to celebrate the last day of summer, listen to "Moonglow," and go cause a scandal in your small town.

Perspective

In addition to the endless opportunities it offers to "see what happens," space is also fantastic for giving us a little perspective on our lives. Like this:


The dot on the left is Earth; the one on the right is the moon. The picture was taken at distance of six million miles by the spacecraft Juno, which is making the five-year journey to Jupiter. Suddenly those irksome work projects seem a little less important, amirite?


(via the Bad Astronomy blog; the original post also includes a link to Carl Sagan reading from Pale Blue Dot.)