The Garden

I've finally stopped complaining how far behind and puny my garden is, because you can't really do that if the tomato plants are as tall as you. The ripening is still a little behind schedule, but at least the plants look healthy, if not completely out of control.

I planted mostly tomatoes:


And some zucchini, because about 85% of vegetarian recipes involve zucchini.
I have a feeling I will regret the zucchini in a month, but right now I'm still excited.

Tuesday Project Roundup: It's A Skirt AND A Picnic Blanket

I think you can see why:

Details: Vintage 70's pattern, plaid from JoAnn, very large useful pockets, doubles as a picnic blanket/tablecloth when seated.

Dear Emmylou Harris

You are awesome and I’m sorry I didn’t realize it until the concert last night. I knew you sang backup for some good Neil Young albums and I remember seeing you in Heart of Gold recently and thinking, “Whoa, plastic surgery!” But I really didn’t know what you sounded like on your own, and I have been missing out. I’m going to go find “Orphan Girl” on iTunes now.

Also, your dress and boots were great.

Best,
Karen

PS: I really shouldn’t have taken your advice from the encore: “Two More Bottles of Wine.”

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Wednesday I made my best riding time to and from work so far: 12 minutes to get there and only 20 minutes to get home. Now I'm pretending I'm competing for the maillot vert!

2. Wednesday also marked the 63rd anniverasary of the first nuclear bomb test in Los Alamos. I've known that Oppenheimer said, famously, "I am become Death, destroyer of worlds" but I didn't know that he was quoting from the Baghavad Gita:
"If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky, that would be like the splendor of the mighty one. Now I am become Death, destroyer of worlds."

Something else I didn't know: That Kenneth Bainbridge, the site director of the test, retorted, "Now we are all sons-of-bitches."

Indeed.

That's A Nice Farm You Got There, Little Lady

So the NY Times has a feature about women farmers up online. I read it because I, too, am a woman. And I like farms. (And because it's been slow at work this week. I've been reading anything.)

The article...left something to be desired. Do you think a journalist would use the following sentence when talking about a male farmer? "[She] flits effortlessly between trimming vines and fixing the tractor, a farmer at heart." Um, wouldn't the fact that she's trimming vines and FIXING A TRACTOR make her a farmer in actual PRACTICE, too? Seriously, "flits"? Come on.

And get this sentence from the intro:
"Whether raising heritage livestock, combing the woods for exotic morsels or coaxing delicacies from the ground, these women forge new bonds between field and table, strengthening the connection between things we love to eat and the stewardship that makes them possible."
Awww, who knew farming was so nurturing? And did you know WOMEN are good at NURTURING and these are LADY FARMERS we're talking about? God.

I would expect this from, well, a women's magazine (with a little sidebar about "Get The Farming Look!" telling us to buy an Hermes headscarf); but not from a newspaper. Farming is hard work. I bet any of these little ladies could have told the reporter that.

Toby Up Your Wednesday

His current nicknames include Tobrito (rhymes with "taquito"), Tobot, and Babypants.


(Be sure to click and enlarge this one so you can get the full effect of Toby lips.)

Tuesday Project Roundup: Tinged With Nostalgia (Or Disney)

Here's another gingham dress from a 1970's pattern:

And here's a better representation of the color:

The yellow and the vintage styling remind me of the look of the film The Virgin Suicides:

On the other hand, Mr. Isbell saw it during construction and blurted out, "That looks like what a Disney princess would wear before she knew she was a princess!"

He meant it as a compliment, of course, and maybe it's the same thing--just give me a grassy field and a daisy to pick.

Happy Bastille Day

While this may just be the day before payday to most Americans, it's Bastille Day and France is partying like it's 1789. (Sorry.) Here's some etymology for you (Don't be too impressed with my French; I had to look it up):

• Bastille is an alternate spelling of bastide: fortification.
• Bastide comes from the Provençal word bastida: built.
• There is also a verb embastiller: to establish troops in a prison.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I meant to mention this last week, but the Tour de France has started. I've caught some coverage every year since Indurain won his final tour, but none yet for this year. I'll have to catch up on Sunday; in the meantime, I'll pretend I'm winning the polka dot jersey when I ride up the hill from work.

2. Toby was "talking" (prrrit! prrow! mrrrow?) to something last night at midnight, and since he's usually very quiet at night (until 5:00 a.m., that is), I got up to investigate. He was in his veranda and outside a little black cat with round eyes and a collar was visiting--it was Jenny Linsky!

Film And Television

Film: If you haven't seen WALL-E, go tonight. Please make sure the person at Pixar who put his job on the line to make such a dystopian, moving, adult film doesn't lose it because the film tanks after the first few weekends. I still don't know how they managed to get it released; it's that good.

TV: I think I'm the only person here watching the new Battlestar Galactica, but if you're tempted to start, just stop after season 2. We finished season 3 this week and all I can say is: A bad cover of All Along the Watchtower shouldn't happen in space. That was really the final straw.

I Wouldn't Be A Bit Surprised If We All Break Into Song Next

I've now made my biking debut at the farmers' market and at work, and let me just quote my dad--"Life's better on a bike."

I rode down to the market on Saturday and the comments started right away: "Nice bike!" and "Where'd you get that helmet?" from the bike valet dude; "Love your bike!" and "Sweet ride!" from passersby; and "Good morning, beautiful! Nice bike!" as I rode by a homeless guy camped on the steps of the Greek Orthodox church.

Similar things happened at work--people I hadn't talked to in nearly two years at the office admired, offered help with the elevator, liked my helmet. I was riding up Main Street on the way home and a panhandler asked, "Got a dollar?" and when I said no (I really didn't), said "I like your helmet!"

So on the next ride, what will happen? Will it be like a musical, with song and dance and synchronized pigeon flights? It may very well be--because life apparently IS better on a bike.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Cool

I had enough vintage fabric to make a dress AND something to lounge around the house in (although I'm thinking pants will get more use than a robe), so over the weekend I made the dress:

Now I'll get my matching shoes and handbag and go to a pool party, where I will drink a Tom Collins...Wait, no I won't. The dress just makes me feel like I could.

(And because I don't want to keep you in suspense about the sweater, I finished it and did not run out of yarn. I left it at work, though, so no picture. Just imagine something beige and a little lumpy-looking.)

It's Monday

Attack it like it's a couch.


Or a bar stool.

Thursday Unrelated Information

I'm ready for a three-day weekend and doubt anyone will be at a computer tomorrow, so today is the end of the blog week.

1. Yesterday was the anniversary of poor Hemingway shooting himself in Ketchum. The Writer's Almanac (which I just discovered) had a bit on yesterday's page about what may have motivated him--constant pain from a plane crash and elecrtroshock therapy, to name a couple. I just read a Ray Bradbury story about Hemingway getting to go back in time to "re-do" his death: "The Kilimanjaro Device," excerpted here.

2. Celebrate the Fourth of July with a poem by Stephen Vincent Benet, "American Names". It begins well, gets a little lost, and ends with a quote that inspired a book title. Here's the beginning:

I have fallen in love with American names,
The sharp names that never get fat,
The snakeskin-titles of mining-claims,
The plumed war-bonnet of Medicine Hat,
Tucson and Deadwood and Lost Mule Flat.

3. Or you can celebrate by watching Yankee Doodle Dandy this weekend. Remember, "My mother thanks you, my father thanks you, my sister thanks you, and I thank you."

Come On, Weekend

"What summer proposes is simply happiness:
heat early in the morning, jays
raucous in the pines."

...and bike rides to the farmers market, and a pool party, and time to nap, and time to work on a summer dress and summer lounge pants, and no writing deadlines. Hurry up, Friday!

(The quote is the opening of "Tahoe In August" by Robert Hass; complete text is here on someone's blog.)

Tuesday Project Roundup: Back In The Saddle Again

I was wondering last week why I felt so thwarted (creatively speaking) and realized I haven't finished any new sewing projects in a month. (The denim dress I was working on the last few weeks did not work. Goodbye, denim dress.) I also realized I hadn't had a day off just to be home and sew in a month, so I took Friday off to pick up the bike and make a dress.This reminds me of cowboys, for no particular reason. Maybe it's the topstitching, which is getting lost in the print but can be seen if you click on the picture below.

On a roll from the Friday/Saturday dressmaking (that worked! and was cute!) I made some placemats on Sunday from oilcloth:

They're reversible, although my camera didn't like taking pictures of all that blue and tried to make it pink:

So a good weekend. I can wear my cowboy dress and serve huevos rancheros on my placemats and sing Gene Autry songs.

Velo Bon! *

If you see a minty-green blur in a pink helmet going down the Avenues, that would be me.

And if you see a girl in a dress having to walk a minty-green bike back home because so far she can only ride two blocks up a hill without having to stop--well, at least she look stylish.

I highly recommend Bountiful Bicycle Center. Nice bike dudes, fair prices, and good inventory.

*French for, "Nice bike!"

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Have you discovered Martha Stewart's blog yet? It's often unintentionally hilarious, but always fun to read. She's been blogging from Warsaw (where she's waiting to get into England), and was taking pictures of a cafe's coffees, baked goods...and customers:Her caption for this one: "A very handsome Polish customer at Bilkle's." Go, Martha!

2. I've been thinking my apartment needs more art...and then I saw this goat print. How cool would that be if it weren't $250?

3. Here's your George Orwell quote for the week: "The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one's real and one's declared aims, one turns ... instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish squirting out ink."

Learning Things Online

June 24 was the birthday of Alan Turing, called "the father of modern computing." I only have a faint idea of who he was--mostly from reading about the Turing test for artificial intelligence in a sci-fi book, I think--but BoingBoing mentioned his birthday in a post which continued to say, "that he was persecuted for his homosexuality to the point of suicide is a crime and a tragedy."

Wait, what? Like I said, I really didn't know about him. Turns out he was, of course, brilliant; received the Order of the British Empire for his work on cracking codes in WWII; developed the first computing model; and in 1952 was convicted of "homosexual acts," a crime still punishable at the time in Britain by hard labor (think Oscar Wilde). He was given the choice between that and probation, on the condition he submit to an estrogen implant to "curb his libido."

God, no wonder he killed himself. And what more could this guy have thought of? A new energy source? A way to jump into hyperspace? Guess we'll never know. Good job, 1950's Britain.

Anyway. I was amazed I had never known this about Turing, so thought I would share. I don't mean to depress anyone--it's not like that NOW, at least--but sometimes I think, "This was only 50 years ago" and my mind just reels.

Just Buy The Damn Bike Already, Karen

As I said last week, I want to get a bike. I want to ride it to work and to the farmers' market and around the neighborhood in the evenings. I've looked for a month now, getting recommendations from my brother, the former bike mechanic, and my father, a crazy roadie who can put in 130 miles a week on his Kestrel. (Hi, Dad! That's crazy in a good way!)

Following their advice--and my own experience that tells me yes, cheap things are cheaper but not necessarily a good investment (true of shoes, cooking equipment, mechanical things)--I decided not to get the $99 Target special and instead get a cruiser with a light frame and some gears.

I rode the bike I had in mind Monday, but Tuesday, instead of calling and getting a special order in, I just second-guessed myself. This is a lot of money for someone who makes her own clothes. Was I sacrificing functionality for style? Should I get a mountain bike? And if I insisted on a cruiser, should I get something cheap so I wouldn't feel bad about not riding, if I couldn't make it up the hills? And would I hate storing it in the apartment's Minuscule Vestibule?

I thought I had decided, but my internal crazy monologue (crazy in a bad way) hadn't. Fortunately, work was slow yesterday and I could let the internet convince me. I found this post on Copenhagen Cycle Chic:

When she bought her bike at her local bike shop she didn't have a "fitting" at the "full service workshop and showroom". She probably walked into the shop and said, "I need a bike"...

She doesn't know how much it weighs…Likewise, she doesn't know how far she rides each day...She rides at a good pace, not too fast to cause a sweat, and the ride is nice enough. She likes the fresh air…and seeing the transformation from season to season. That will suffice.

She doesn't wake up and make a decision to "commute by bike to work today". It's just a part of her day. She just walks out of her flat and gets on her bike. If it has a puncture, she'll walk it down to the local bike shop to get it repaired and then take the bus or train to work. Picking it up in the afternoon.

Yeah. It really isn't that hard. It's a bike; it will be fine. I have the money, I won't outgrow it, and the hills will make me toned. Even if I have to push the bike up them.

I'll get my order in today.

Tuesday Project Roundup: So Close, Yet So Far. And Probably So Out Of Yarn.

Today's project roundup is a cliffhanger!

Sewing hasn't been going well, so I've been knitting instead. (Knitting is also a lot cooler than sewing, because it doesn't require crawling all over the floor to cut out fabric and having an iron hot for the duration.)

I'm almost through with this in a khaki color; I only have the ribbed trim around the front edges to do. I thought I could even get a good start on it last night during some more Battlestar Galactica--but no, two episodes later I had only picked up the stitches I needed to knit and put them on the needle. Also, I'm not sure if I have enough yarn left...

Will I finish? Will I run out of yarn? What will happen in Season 3 with the Cylon occupation? Check back next week for the thrilling conclusion!

Battlestar Galacatica: Intergalactic!

Mr. Isbell and I watched another installment of the new Battlestar Galactica last night--the "Razor" extended episode. I never saw the original BSG, so I'm not sure if the Cylons (the evil robots) spoke in an evil robot voice in the series, but last night in Razor, they did. And I turned to Mr. Isbell and said, "How come I'm expecting to hear the Beastie Boys break into 'Intergalactic' now?"

So for your Monday morning, here's the Intergalactic video, complete with robot voices.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. After more than a decade, I've rediscovered Mystery Science Theater 3000 (viva Netflix!). People who have seen this will understand. If you haven't, run--do not walk--and find episode 424: Manos: The Hands of Fate.

2. The cocktail of the moment is the Gin Rickey: 1 part Rose's Sweetened Lime Juice to about 1.75 - 2 parts gin (depending on your workday), over ice. Mint sprig garnish is optional.

3. The summer solstice is TOMORROW; does it strike anyone else as sad that after just a week of feeling as if summer has finally begun, we've already reached its high point?

4. And speaking of summer, alpacas know how to stay cool: Play in the sprinklers!

I Bet You're Wondering What's New At The Ranch

Cria season is starting at Blue Moon Ranch! Check the barn cam for daily updates--most due dates are in late June and then again in August, but there are a few that have arrived already.

Here's Willie Nelson:

And here is Shiloh:

Experiments In Feeding Myself

I think my experiments can be summed up in a phrase: It's a good thing I live two blocks from Smith's.

While I didn't expect my garden to fill all my produce needs for the summer, I did expect it to add some nice salads by now. Out of two rows of lettuce I planted, I have grown two lettuce plants, one of which bolted yesterday while I was at work. (Well, quickly.) I don't know if my seeds were bad, if the last month of cold had something to do with it, or if the snails ate both rows as soon as they came up out of the ground.

I'm thinking it was the snails, because after they ate my lettuces, they discovered my beans. The beans had come up easily, almost with a cartoon-y "SPROING!!", and they were doing really well...for a day.

Obviously, poisoning the snails wasn't an option, so I looked into natural deterrents. I tried some copper tape around the rows--the snails laughed*. I tried some coffee grounds around the beans--the snails laughed and ate some more.

Last weekend my mother offered me iron phosphate snail bait (named, fabulously, Escar-Go!). Iron phosphate is non-toxic and naturally occurring; snails eat it and then their hunger mechanism shuts down and they starve to death. Don't laugh, but the thought of snails starving over three to six days seemed too sad for me, so I tried a beer trap as a last resort:

The snails got drunk, had a party, ate some beans, and laughed.

All my snail compassion disappeared. Monday night I re-planted the lettuce rows with beans and filled in the holes in the existing bean rows, and I Escar-Go!'d my garden within an inch of its life.

So I think I've won the snail battle but my beans will be three weeks behind schedule. At least radishes grow safely underground, far away from snails:

*I think the issue with copper tape on the beans was I couldn't make good border around the whole row. I have copper rings around the base of the tomatoes, zucchini, and eggplants and they're happy and un-eaten.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Where's My AARP Discount? Edition

Projects are still continuing here at Chez Crafty; they're just going a little more slowly now that I want to be outside, have to control the snail plague in my garden (more on that tomorrow), and need to learn how to ride a bike again (yeah).

I'm working on a denim dress that should be finished soon, but I'm much more excited about the next project in line: finding a use for some truly awesome vintage fabric my grandmother in Nebraska gave me.

Here's the fabric:
(Approximate time from laying down of fabric to arrival of cat: 2.2 seconds)

And here's what I'm considering making with it:
It's a robe/housedress from what looks like the very early 70's, to put on in the morning and putter around the house in. I could even make a matching headscarf! (Hey, I already wear muumuus; I might as well embrace my inner 80-year-old.)

My only reservation is that a robe wouldn't get as much public wear time as a dress, and that's a shame because the fabric is SO fabulous. So I'm still considering.

Cute Kitten Picture Monday: Wait, That's My Kitten!

When I adopted Toby, I found him through CAWS. I was really impressed with their follow-through during the process of looking, and I even got an email about two weeks after he'd been home making sure we were all happy. Over the weekend, I got another email that his foster mom had wanted me to have, which had his baby pictures in it. Baby Toby!

Friday Unrelated Information

1. All the schedules for free concerts and movie screenings for the summer are up, and guess who's coming to the Gallivan Twilight Concert series this year? Neko Case, The Awesomest Woman To Sing Since Patsy Cline. She's playing August 28th. For free. (Also free: An outdoor screening of The Muppet Movie at Lindsay Gardens in the Avenues July 25th.)

2. Speaking of thrifty entertainment, here's a collection of thrifty tips (not mine) that we can learn from Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

3. Toby likes the sun. He takes after me.

Non-Confusing Post About Bikes

I've decided to buy a bike. But after realizing I really, really disliked mountain biking, I haven't been on a bike in ten years. While this may make my decision sound like a recipe for disaster, I'm remembering how much I liked just riding around (on pavement) in my teens. I'm also remembering how expensive gas is and how many hours every day I do nothing but sit. Plus, I live about a mile and a half from work and my car is not getting any younger.*

Another thing that helped convince me that I will LOVE riding a bike: the Internet. Did you know there are whole blogs dedicated to cycling stylishly? Blogs that advocate wearing dresses to keep cool and vintage capes to keep warm? Here are a few that helped me decide:

Copenhagen Cycle Chic
London Cycle Chic
Riding Pretty

I'll start looking at bikes (pretty!) next week. I'm undecided about wearing a helmet, but the Internet has told me that there are even pretty-ish options for those, too--they look a little like a riding helmet, turning my bike into my pony...

I think I'll like cycling.

*I do plan to actually ride a bike or two before I buy one myself, just to make sure I won't hate it. It's one thing to "cycle pretty" and another thing to spend $400 on an accessory you won't use.

Things One Learns That One Is Really Embarrassed To Admit

I always though Ray Eames, of the design team Charles and Ray Eames, was Charles's brother. No, Ray was his WIFE. The things you learn.

(I found this out at the US Postal Service site, because stamps with Eames designs are coming out.)

(Also, if people would use the proper convention for couples' names and keep the husband's name closest to his last name [because his name never changed, while the wife's did], I would not have made this egregious error. I'm just saying.)

Tuesday Project Roundup: Remember When I Used To Knit?

Yeah, I remember when I did, too.


(I still have a sweater going, but it's stalled on the sleeves. And I brought a market bag with me for travel knitting but it's turning out way too small for anything that could be bought at the market, except maybe two tomatoes.)

Agricultural Monday

Continuing the "Where Does Your Food Come From/Are We Doomed?" theme of the past few weeks, here's an an article by Michael Pollan for the New York Times online titled, "Why Bother?"--which was part of the angst of that trip to the Midwest:

The realization that all my efforts aren't doing anything--that no matter how much I try to eat eggs from happy chickens, or buy organic parsley, that there will be thousands more people buying the cheapest eggs and parsley, with no thought as to where they come from--was really discouraging.

So imagine how happy I was to find an article telling me why I should still bother. Read it and see why you should bother, and we'll resurrect the 1970's back-to-the-land movement!

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Yves Saint Laurent died Sunday. Someone who popularized the trapeze dress is all right with me.

2. Photographs of beds deer made in long grass for the night--a whole series. I like that.

3. Words of wisdom from a writerly blog by a former Utahn: "When you are the person who says, 'I want to go to the demoliton derby,' or, 'I know...let's spend our summer vacation with war reenactors,' and you find the person who's like, 'Yeah, and let's also hit the La Brea tar pits;' hold onto that like a rear-mount choke hold, people. Because that is LOVE."

(And speaking of derbies, mark your calendar for Tooele--where they serve beer and it is awesome--on August 2 and for August 9 for the Weber County Fair. Perhaps it will be warm and sunny then.)

"The Grapes Of Wrath" Is One Of The Best Titles Ever

I took The Grapes of Wrath with me on my trip last week, thinking it would be a good mix of travel and agriculture. (I had forgotten how sad it is, though; I had to stop reading in the Denver airport because I was getting weepy.) Reading it now, right after all my other books about alternative farming and eating locally, and after visiting the family farm that miraculously still struggles on, I'm really struck by how current it is--Steinbeck saw the writing on the wall in 1939:

"...crops were reckoned in dollars, and land was valued by principal plus interest, and crops were bought and sold before they were planted. Then crop failure, drought, and flood were no longer little deaths within life, but simple losses of money...[until the landowners] were no longer farmers at all, but little shopkeepers of crops, little manufacturers who must sell before they can make. Then those farmers who were not good shopkeepers lost their land to good shopkeepers. No matter how clever, how loving a man might be with earth and growing things, he could not survive if he were not a good shopkeeper. And as time went on, the business men had the farms, and the farms grew larger, but there were fewer of them."

The Best Bar Ever

It was here:And this is why it was awesome:

I'm Back. And Kind Of Speechless.

I really don't know where to start with this trip recap....should I mention the fact that, despite not eating meat for a decade, my diet is apparently still something to talk me out of? That my relatives are convinced about the Biblical age of the earth? That I realized my puny efforts to buy local and organic aren't going to do anything to change the farming system as we know it? No, I think I'd better mention the fact that a gin and tonic in the bar in the nearest town was $2.00. Because that was my happy place.

(Pictures coming tomorrow, if Blogger behaves.)

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I'll miss a post Monday, since I will be on a farm. With not a lot of internet. On the prairie. Toby and Mr. Isbell will have to be bachelors together.

2. Remember the cat veranda I was debating about getting? I got it. My dad (Toby's "grandpa") installed it in an ingenious fashion last night. The verdict? Best. Purchase. Ever. He's in it right now getting the morning sun and here he was right after the installation:

More Fun With Religion

Continuing my unable-to-not-read-it exploration of fanaticism (I don't know why this is so fascinating to me right now; I turned into an apostate a long time ago), I found a Rolling Stone article online about born again Christian Zionism--that is, evangelicals who believe the end times are near and a holy war with the Middle East is imminent (and necessary for God's plan). It's not unbiased, of course, but it's funny and it's thought provoking and so very scary. The quote of the day from it:

"It occurred to me that over the past decades, any number of our prominent political leaders (from Jimmy Carter to Chuck Colson to W himself) had boasted publicly of their born-again experiences, broadcasting to Middle America an understanding of their personal relationships with God. But whereas once these conversions were humble things...the modern version might very easily be this completely batshit holy-vomitus/demon-exorcism deal. The thought that any politician could claim this kind of experience and not be immediately disqualified from public service seemed utterly terrifying."

Wednesday Project Roundup: Dresses For The Prairie Edition

I was able to finish the both dresses I wanted to make and wear to the family reunion this weekend--yay for days off prior to camping trips!

The plaid dress is for the airplane and has handy big pockets. (It was inspired by this version from A.P.C. for $120.)

And the beige linen check dress was inspired by meandering poetically through the pasture land, avoiding cow pies and thistles:
I used my new initial labels on it, too. Because it's important to have a monogrammed linen muumuu in which to wander the prairie. Just ask the pioneers.

Tuesday Camping Roundup

We made it back from camping but I was too busy getting the campfire smell out of all the gear yesterday to post these.

Thankfully, it was only like this the first afternoon:

But the clouds didn't keep us from going up on Topaz Mountain and looking for topaz--there are some in that bag. (The beer was a way of keeping warm. As was the gin and the whiskey later.)

There was even a good sunny photo op:

But I was glad to be back home with Toby, who couldn't stop smelling our shoes.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. As I mentioned, I read Under the Banner of Heaven this week, and just...wow. So depressing and creepy and, like a train wreck, oddly fascinating. (And if I had read something about life under Taliban rule, or the early Christian church, I would be saying the same thing. As I said, I hate Illinois Nazis--I mean, religious fanatics.)

2. The Alpaca Owners and Breeders Association National Conference is going on NOW at the South Towne Expo Center. This is how I met alpacas a few years ago--the show is all weekend, there are vendors and exhibits, and there are a bunch of furry camelids inside a convention center. Do you need more reason than that?

3. Despite those compelling reasons I'll have to miss the show this year, because I will be camping. In the rain. And 34 degree nighttime lows. I told my friend Sean about my plans, and he said, "I'd rather be at the Rainbow Room." Wouldn't we all, Sean.

Of Books That Make You Wonder, "Why Is That A Classic?"

I finished Of Human Bondage yesterday. I enjoyed it, but I also would have equally enjoyed not reading it. It's engrossing, but the language never made me stop and say, "Wow!"; and there was just too much introspection from the main character about the meaning of life for my taste.

It also seemed almost comically existential to me: Philip's conclusions about the futility of life only reminded me of "The Jean-Paul Sartre Cookbook" (worth a click). For example, he visits his old school:

He thought bitterly how much he had wanted to do and how little done. It seemed to him that all those years, vanished beyond recall, had been utterly wasted. The boys, fresh and buoyant, were doing the same things that he had done, it seemed that not a day had passed since he left the school, and yet in that place where at least by name he had known everybody now he knew not a soul. In a few years these too, others taking their place, would stand alien as he stood; but the reflection brought him no solace; it merely impressed upon him the futility of human existence.

Dude, easy there. He also falls in love--a happy thing, right? Not really:

He had thought of love as a rapture which seized one so that all the world seemed spring-like, he had looked forward to an ecstatic happiness; but this was not happiness; it was a hunger of the soul, it was a painful yearning, it was a bitter anguish, he had never known before...When she left him it was wretchedness, and when she came to him again it was despair.

And so on, for quite a few pages. And then at the end he finds happiness with a different girl, and in one chapter we're told that all of his angst and unhappiness and obsessions with his other love will be cured by marriage. (If it had been about a red-haired girl and had more hijinks, that ending would have made me think I was reading Anne of Green Gables.)

So, a good book--just not to my taste. (And seriously, click through that Sartre link. My best friend and I thought it was the height of cleverness in high school.)

Sure Do Wish I Could Post A Picture Of Toby To Cheer Us Up

I sure do, because otherwise I'll complain about Blogger’s photo uploading issues, and how cold the office is, and the rain that will continue through the weekend while I'm camping, and the fact that Under the Banner of Heaven is so depressing, and that it actually ties in well with Of Human Bondage, another depressing book about unhealthy obsessions and their ultimate futility. And a protagonist with a club foot.

Blogger, we could have avoided all of this. It’s a good thing I have the real Toby to look forward to tonight.

Tuesday Project Roundup: My Photographer Is In The West Desert

I finished one of the two dresses I want to make before next weekend when I head back to the prairies for a family reunion, but it needs a modeled shot because it looks like a big beige sack on the hanger. However, Mr. Isbell is out of town and Toby, despite how smart he is, has a hard time taking pictures.
So I took a picture of him instead:

Updated: Blogger photo loading is being difficult. I guess this was meant to be photo-less today.

Velcro, Bugs Bunny, The Golden Gate Bridge...

Have you ever wondered, "Hm, what's younger than John McCain?" Well, now there's a site that tells you--www.thingsyoungerthanmccain.com.

The internet is awesome. (It, too, is younger than John McCain. Or me, for that matter.)

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I saw Don Giovanni this week and I'd have to say it's the best Utah Opera production I've seen since La Boheme about 10 years ago. The set is ugly and boring, but it was so well-performed. It even made me regret not playing in the pit...for a minute. I saw people I knew in there, too.

2. Also music related: Given my extreme distaste for being around pot smokers, my pre-conceived notions about the music, my most recent exposure to it from a mainstream movie, and my whiteness, would it be too awful of me to get a Bob Marley CD? I've been listening to it on the shared iTunes at work all week and, um, I really like it.

3. Thank you, weather, for being warm this weekend. Please don't snow again.

Literature In The Workplace

I'm reading Of Human Bondage and I came across this passage and thought, "Huh, just replace
'painters'with 'art directors' and it's the agency!"


They looked upon him, as painters often do writers, with contempt because he was a layman, with tolerance
because he practised an art, and with awe because he used a medium in which themselves felt ill-at-ease.

An Open Letter To The Beehive Tearoom

Dear Beehive Tearoom,

I am over you. Your signs are getting more aggressive*, your teas are now upwards of $5 a pot (!), and your wait times--perhaps because of your aggressive signage--are the longest they've been in the six years I've been visiting you.

Beehive Tearoom, I love the thought that you serve delicious teas and pastries, but if I'm full of fear and can't afford your delicacies, it's really not worth it anymore.

Also, why are you serving beer? And hipster beer, at that? Does a tearoom that's open until 6:30 really have a demand for PBR? I expected better from you. I expected tea from you.

So, Beehive Tearoom, don't expect me to be back. I just can't overlook things like this any longer.

Signed disappointedly,
Karen


*One of the many aggressive signs: "Preparing tea takes time. If you do not have the time or patience to wait, please come back when you do." (Another aggressive sign tells us that wait times are typically "15-40 minutes." For tea? Are they building a fire on which to boil the kettle?)

Tuesday Project Roundup: But I Know I Made It Edition

I've been wanting some of those personalized "Made by" labels for a while now, but I haven't bought any because they just seem so obvious: I know I made my dress. And it's not as if I sell anything I make or sew for other people who might need to know. It just seems like a clever touch--something to make it less homemade and more custom-made.

Happily, last week on a craft blog I saw a link to someone selling "brocaded alphabet ribbons" on Etsy. I immediately thought, "I could cut the ribbon apart and have little initials to use as labels!" and in fact the seller says that that's what they're used for in Italy. 2.5 meters of the initial K are are on their way. Now no one will be able to sneak away with my homemade clothes.

In actual sewing news, I want to try to get two more dresses made before I go on vacation at the end of this month. One's already cut out, so I think that's a reasonable goal. Check back next Tuesday.

"So I Sez To Mabel, I Sez.."

(Karma and Sergio at the ranch, being ruminants.)

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I saw what can only be described as the Calico Bird of the Apocalypse this morning at the bird feeder: It was between a startling and a sparrow in size, and it looked just like a calico cat--black, brown, and white. And fluffy. I've never seen anything like it.

2. I accompanied my friend Sean--he of the Picnic watching and the not understanding the appeal of pets--to a party last night at a very posh home on Country Club Drive. The hosts had a pug puppy that had an "accident" in the course of the evening--or, as Sean put it, "That mammal just defecated in their house."

3. This is not Toby, but it could be. I just can't allow him outside, though. Who knows what bird will come to the feeder next and carry him away?

Don't You Get A Welcome Kit In The Mail Or Something?

I was watching I Am Legend with a friend this week, which uses some Bob Marley songs to nice effect, and had the following conversation:
Me: "I really like Bob Marley. I should get a CD."
[pause]
Me: "Do you have a Bob Marley CD?"
Friend: "No."
Me: "You don't? Huh."
[pause]
Me: "Does your dad have a Bob Marley CD?"
Friend: [stops watching and turns to me with a look] "What, do you think that everyone who smokes pot has to have a Bob Marley CD?"
Me: [found out, sheepish] "Yes."

Tuesday Project Roundup: Dressing Like I'm Six

I think I had a top with sleeves like this when I was little, but I can't remember. Something about the smock-y shape and those straight Jetson sleeves seem very familiar to me:

And I know I had a pair of these when I was a kid (in pink), but look: Saltwater Sandals come in adult sizes, too!

I'll wear the top and the sandals together today and maybe play My Little Pony after work. Or maybe Charmkins.

(I'm actually telling myself the top looks more sophisticated than juvenile and the sandals are just retro. Here's a detail of the yoke inset and the fabric, a really nice black tweed linen.)Nothing like dressing to feel young.

Today I Will:

1. Play with Toby, who is trying to get on the keyboard and roll around as I type this
2. Walk to breakfast
3. Water my garden (because the lettuce and radishes are coming up)
4. Fill the bird feeder
5. Plant up my strawberry pot
6. Cut out and maybe start sewing a new pencil skirt pattern
7. Eat an enchilada, for Cinco de Mayo

Because I took the day off! Freedom!

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I've known about Bob Dylan's "Theme Time Radio Hour" show on XM radio for a while now, but I've never heard it. So I was tickled that Vanity Fair posted an article that lists the themes, repeated artists, useful tips, history lessons, and recipes he's shared on the show. There are even some choice quotes, including, "All of our shows are for truckers, if not about truckers" and "Here’s a woman who sure doesn’t sound like she sleeps alone." Crazy Bob, I love you so.

(Also: look at the original magazine spread at the top of the article and notice how they've typeset it to look like the Milton Glaser Dylan poster from the '60s.)

2. I've had 72-hour kits on my mind lately--I think it's because I have Toby now. I was thinking out loud to Mr. Isbell that I have three cans of tuna in the cupboard we could use in an emergency and he pointed out, "That's only a meal each for you, me, and Toby." I think I need to look into putting a few things together.

3. Or maybe I'm just reacting to the climate of fear lately. Maybe it's time to re-read Fahrenheit 451.

4. And in happier world events, Oxford University is hosting the first annual Fred Astaire Conference this June, featuring "an international assembly of Astaire experts, among them writers, performers, choreographers, and historians of dance, theatre, and film." Delightful!

I Think The Druids Are Becoming Ineffective Against The Weather

Today is May 1--May Day, International Workers Day, or Beltane, depending on how you choose to celebrate it. Since I'm (usually) struck by how the weather matches the old Celtic holidays, I'll talk about Beltane:

"The day was a traditional summer holiday in many pre-Christian European pagan cultures. While February 1 was the first day of Spring, May 1 was the first day of summer; hence, the summer solstice...was Midsummer."

First day of summer, hm? I woke up to snow this morning. I think you failed us, Druids.