Cat Poem!

This poem was on the Writer's Almanac earlier this week. I'm putting it up for my parents, who recently adopted two more cats, bringing their kitty total up to four.

exactly right

by Charles Bukowski

the strays keep arriving: now we have 5
cats and they are smart, spontaneous, self-
absorbed, naturally poised and awesomely
beautiful.

one of the finest things about cats is
that when you're feeling down, very down,
if you just look at the cat at rest,
at the way they sit or lie and wait,
it's a grand lesson in preserving
and
if you watch 5 cats at once that's 5
times better.

no matter the extra demands they make
no matter the heavy sacks of food
no matter the dozens of cans of tuna
from the supermarket: it's all just fuel for their
amazing dignity and their
affirmation of a vital
life
we humans can
only envy and
admire from
afar.

Tuesday (Wednesday) Project Roundup: PITA Skirt

This skirt was a royal pain in the you-know-what. It was the Burda pattern I've been making all year but the wool--a nice heavy tweed from B and J Fabrics--just fought me. Herringbone stretches in weird directions! Thick, weirdly stretchy wool needs to be stabilized around the zipper and the waistband! An invisible zipper is not the best choice for a heavy wool! Tweed frays so much you have to finish all the edges before even sewing the pieces together!

BUT--it's done (thank god; I thought it would never end), it looks fine (on the outside), and I got lots of compliments on it Monday, so it's not a failure.
However, I think this project taught me an important lesson: I really don't want to make a coat after all.

We Interrupt This Tuesday Project Roundup

Because it's Carl Sagan's birthday!

Check out carlsagan.com, read up on the SETI Institute, or just watch Cosmos again. Here's a clip from the opening:



The cosmos is full beyond measure of elegant truths, of exquisite interrelationships, of the awesome machinery of nature.

I know you wouldn't approve of this, Carl, but I hope that somewhere, you've found out everything you still wanted to know.

Saturday Morning Cartoons

Last week I saw that Netflix had episodes of DuckTales available, a Disney cartoon that I watched from 1987-1990, probably while drawing unicorns.

Curiosity got the better of me and I watched an episode and a half this weekend, but whatever magic the show had was gone--along with seven-year-old Karen. (Not all cartoons can be as smart as Animaniacs, I guess.)

I did remember every word to the DuckTales theme song, though. And then had it stuck in my head all weekend. You've been warned.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I have a new upstairs neighbor, whom I met on Wednesday. He asked me about the neighborhood and I started rattling off facts like "these nighbors have a dog named Esme, this one walks to work every morning at 7:30, these people have two cats that don't go outside much, this neighbor works at the liquor store," etc. I sounded like I spent all my time watching the neighbors.

2. In case the elections made you sad, here's something happier. I found it encouraging but don't click if you're offended by swearing: What the F*** Has Obama Done So Far?

3. And finally, I just discovered the genre of redubbed music videos:


Elm! Beef! Elm! Beef!

Thursday Poem

I thought about this Mary Oliver poem the other day and wondered why I never posted it last year. I'd say that this one and the one below are her two most well-known poems, heavily used in the sort of "serenity now" inspirational sites that include pictures of waterfalls. But at least people are reading poems, right?


The Journey

One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice ...
though the whole house began to tremble
and you felt the old tug at your ankles.
'Mend my life!' each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers at the very foundations ...
though their melancholy was terrible.
It was already late enough,
and a wild night, and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.

But little by little, as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice, which you slowly recognized as your own,
that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world,
determined to do the only thing you could do,
determined to save the only life you could save.

In Which I Gave A Presentation And It Was OK

In maybe the most "professional" moment of my career to date, I went to a college marketing class last night and talked to them about brands. I had a PowerPoint prepared--with animations! I had speakers notes! I brought in a 1995 J. Peterman catalog as a prop! I answered grad students' questions!

I was afraid it would be like this, but it actually went pretty well.


There are four kinds of business. Tourism. Food service. Railroads. And sales.

Tuesday Project Roundup: I Knit Things For Grownups, Too

Hey, remember this project that I started in January? I finally finished it!
The yarn is really lovely--a merino from a farm in Michigan. It's very soft and got nice and fluffy in the final wash. I used this pattern but I kept the silhouette more boxy than fitted, for easy layering. That worked well everywhere except the sleeves, which turned out way too wide. (I might have to rip those back and re-knit them on smaller needles.)

But overall, I'm not going to complain too much. Because it's DONE.

Thing #21, aka IT'S BOOZE TIME

I finally bit the bullet and stocked my home bar over the weekend, accomplishing Thing 21 on my list of 30 Things:
The scotch is for sipping, not for mixing.

Right now my "bar" is in an upper kitchen cabinet but someday I will arrange all the booze on a fancy tray or cart in my imaginary living room:

Yes, it feels good accomplishing my alcohol-related goals.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I think adults going all-out for Halloween is silly, but there's a party at work so I made a costume (or a really big necklace):
I'm a "cereal" (serial) comma! No one will get it!

2. Speaking of, Jason posted a real-life example of someone who should have used a serial comma to add clarity. It is important punctuation, people!

3. And, because it's Halloween, here are probably my favorite seven words ever uttered on TV:

(See more of the episode here.)

Teleport!

This is a cool program that lets you see different parts of the world (or, conversely, illustrates the chilling reach of Google): Globe Genie. It basically just randomizes Google Street Views but it manages to suck you in. It also reminds you how much of the world looks the same, landscape-wise: Central France could be Wisconsin, Russia looks like Wyoming, Tuscany like Northern California, etc.

Check it out--the button to randomize really does say "Teleport."

Are You Tired Of This Yet?

By "this," I mean posts in which I tell you that I'm watching a new TV series and it's really good and I have a crush on the main actor. I hope you're not too fed up, because guess what? I watched a new TV series!

The series is the modern-day interpretation of Sherlock Holmes on PBS, Sherlock. Yes, the actors are fun to watch:
Holmes gets to stand in front. Because he's Sherlock Holmes.


Why hello, Sherlock. Are you deducing something?

But if you know me you know that before I was a Dune geek, before I read any Tolkein, I was a Sherlock Holmes fan. Holmes is my geekery of choice. So imagine my delight that the writers of this new series (who write for the new Dr. Who series, oh the colliding worlds of geekdom) did such a good job adapting the Holmes canon to the modern day.

Seriously, if you're a fellow Holmes geek, it's worth a watch to catch the in-jokes (deductions are made from a cell phone instead of a pocket watch; Watson's a veteran of the modern Afghan war; he's similarly confused about where he was shot; no, they're not gay; etc.)

You can watch the first episode--"A Study in Pink"--online, with new ones airing Sunday nights for the next two weeks.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Repeat Of A Sellout

Look, more baby stuff!

This is for a co-worker who adopted a baby boy after waiting a long time. I wanted to do something a little more than a hat or booties to mark the occasion, so another owl sweater it was.

This time I used superwash wool instead of wool-cotton, because the baby is in Park City instead of sunny Asheville, and I didn't impose my love of color on the recipient quite as much. (I did get some contrasting blue eyes in, though.)


Who? who? Baby owls!

Reading Cookbooks

I was going through some Laurie Colwin again last week and found this:

You want comfort; you want security; you want food; you want not to be hungry; and not only do you want those basic things fixed, you want it done in a really nice, gentle way that makes you feel loved. That's a big desire, and cookbooks say to the person who's reading them, "If you read me, you will be able to do this for yourself and for others. You will make everybody feel better."

Let's read some cookbooks!

Friday Unrelated Information

1. As much as I talk about wanting fancy hi-fis and home decor, all I really want is a house. A house that doesn't require a roto-rooter visit every other month because the upstairs neighbor insists on using her defunct disposal for things like celery stalks and Chinese takeout. (Guess how I know what foods she's trying to grind up! And guess what I'm doing this morning!)

2. Speaking of, I looked at my 2oth house this week (in person). I'm still holding out for one that's north of 21st South, west of 13th East, and isn't a fire hazard or a pit of asbestos. Do I ask too much for my price range? Perhaps. But I'm holding out.

3. I'm holding out for a hero, too.

Did You Know?

Did you know that Ray and Charles Eames designed speaker cabinets back in the day? Which were then marketed with kitten pictures? (Click for big)

Hello, gorgeous.


Yes, I'd take an Eames three-way.

When I think of my imaginary house, I think of getting adult electronics like a stereo and a TV with two functioning speakers (imagine!). Except I would want all my equipment to look like this. Then I would listen to Ethiopian jazz and bebop on vinyl, like this:


You can see more vintage hi-fi goodness here.

The Moral Of This Poem

...is the last line. But the build up is worth a read, too.

Filling Station

by Elizabeth Bishop

Oh, but it is dirty!

—this little filling station,

oil-soaked, oil-permeated

to a disturbing, over-all

black translucency.

Be careful with that match!

Father wears a dirty,

oil-soaked monkey suit

that cuts him under the arms,

and several quick and saucy

and greasy sons assist him

(it’s a family filling station),

all quite thoroughly dirty.

Do they live in the station?

It has a cement porch

behind the pumps, and on it

a set of crushed and grease-

impregnated wickerwork;

on the wicker sofa

a dirty dog, quite comfy.

Some comic books provide

the only note of color—

of certain color. They lie

upon a big dim doily

draping a taboret

(part of the set), beside

a big hirsute begonia.

Why the extraneous plant?

Why the taboret?

Why, oh why, the doily?

(Embroidered in daisy stitch

with marguerites, I think,

and heavy with gray crochet.)

Somebody embroidered the doily.

Somebody waters the plant,

or oils it, maybe. Somebody

arranges the rows of cans

so that they softly say:

esso—so—so—so

to high-strung automobiles.

Somebody loves us all.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Pants. Meh.

In the five years that I've really been sewing for myself, I've tried to make real pants (not lounge pants but outerwear) only once or twice, and neither time was a success. So in that respect, this pair of wearable pants is a big deal:

But so are the legs. The bottom opening is really wide. I don't know what part of me thought "26 inches? That's a normal leg opening." Because it's not, unless you're a clown or a sailor.

I used this out-of-print pattern:
but I think if I try pants again, I'll use the more vintage pattern I talked about in May. Although why make "meh" pants when there are dresses in crazy prints to sew?

It's Monday

Sit on it like it's a blanket that just came out of storage.

Bonus shot, so you can see the intensity of the sitting:
Sitting on things requires great focus.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I got tickets for the season opening of Utah Opera tomorrow. It's La Boheme, which is pretty hard to ruin even for them. I'm sure I'll be back to complaining that life isn't like opera on Monday.

2. I blew through season one of the new Dr. Who and fell hard for Christopher Eccleston--so I was prepared to hate his regenerated replacement, David Tennant. Well, it only took about ten minutes of season two for me to decide that I LOVE David Tennant! He wears nerd glasses! He got introduced with a cheesy pop song!

3 .Related: It might be time to stop pretending to be sophisticated and just accept that I'm a sci-fi geek.

This Qualifies Me For Home Ownership, Right?

I may not know how to light my pilot light or mow a lawn, but I can replace the hardware on my sewing cabinet.

The before is on the left; the much less 1988-country-kitchen after is on the right. I got the right size and everything!

Yep, home ownership will be a piece of cake.

Cat-vertising!

This commercial from Purina New Zealand would have been a fun account to work on. Kitties! Yarn! Oh my!

Tuesday Project Roundup: If You Don't Own A Horse...

...you can always wear one. That's right, the hippy dress strikes again!

Here's a better idea of the real fabric color (thanks, camera):

And here's the pattern drawing so you can get a better idea of the shape, such as it is:

The fabric is an Alexander Henry quilting cotton that I got to make a wearable muslin (test garment) for second hippy dress pattern from France. The quilting cotton isn't the best apparel fabric and there are a few tweaks I'll make before I sew it in fancy corduroy, but it's wearable and it has horses on it. Therefore, it's a success.

I Guess Only Men Buy Houses?

I got really close to making an offer on a house last week, but then I didn't--the house still had the original 1939 knob and tube wiring and a fuse box.

In the course of finding out about the wiring, my awesome agent forwarded me the emails she got from the seller's agent, in which I (the buyer) was always referred to "he." For example: "If the buyer wants to call the guy who inspected the wiring, he can reach that guy* at..." and "If the buyer wants a house with updated wiring, he might need to look at new construction." (That one's an actual quote.)**

My realtor is a woman so I haven't had to deal with any of the "Buying a house all by yourself, little lady?" attitude that you get in a conservative state. I just thought it was interesting that the default for the (male) seller's agent was "he."

So the house hunt continues, even though I am not a man.



*That guy was described as an "Army electrician and jack of most trades." Um, shouldn't that job description have been "licensed electrician"?

**For the love of god. I don't need NEW wiring; just wiring that isn't a fire hazard.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Mark your calendars and set your alarm clocks, because the metro area Target is opening on Sunday! I have been combining suburban Target trips with visits to my parents for the last SEVEN YEARS, so I will be there on 10/10/10 with bells on.

2. Happy birthday to Frank Herbert, writer of Dune, enabler of geekiness.

3. This week at work I got a chance to use the Don Draper quote to the beatnik in Season 1 of Mad Men:
Beatnik: You're in advertising? How do you sleep at night?
Don Draper: On a mattress made of money.

Your Coffee May Be Too Strong...

...if your kitty tries to bury it like kitty poop.

Kitteh vs. The Smell of Coffee - watch more funny videos

I broke my French press over the weekend so now I'm using the stovetop espresso maker. Still trying to get the proportions right.

How Come I Didn't Know This?

While watching my new imaginary boyfriend* Christopher Eccleston in an episode of Dr. Who set during the Blitz, there was some Glenn Miller playing. Which led me to Wikipedia to learn that Glenn Miller is officially listed as missing in action (presumed dead) because his plane disappeared over the Channel in 1944 while on tour with his Army Air Force Band.

And I thought I liked Miller for "Chattanooga Choo Choo." Dying while on tour to rally the troops in the war effort is another matter entirely.





*I'm sorry, Dimitri, I'm really enjoying your baritone and your t-shirts, but there's such a thing as too much music. I'll call you.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Tiny Little "o rly?"

Finally, I can share the cuteness that is the avian-inspired baby shower gift for a friend:
The owls do have button eyes, but they're small.

When I heard that one of my few and therefore special girlfriends was having a baby, I knew I had to make something just as special. I wanted to knit and sew, and when I found the owl and bird flannel (from here) everything just clicked: I would make a tiny "Owls" sweater from this pattern (like my big one) and then two simple blankets (just squares sewn together with rick-rack on the edge). I was done with this about six weeks before the baby shower last Saturday--which turned out to be owl-themed! That was a crazy coincidence, ya rly.

Monday's Poem

Today's poem is from our buddy Mark Strand, found on the Writer's Almanac a few weeks ago:

Mirror

A white room and a party going on
and I was standing with some friends
under a large gilt-framed mirror
that tilted slightly forward
over the fireplace.
We were drinking whiskey
and some of us, feeling no pain,
were trying to decide
what precise shade of yellow
the setting sun turned our drinks.
I closed my eyes briefly,
then looked up into the mirror:
a woman in a green dress leaned
against the far wall.
She seemed distracted,
the fingers of one hand
fidgeted with her necklace,
and she was staring into the mirror,
not at me, but past me, into a space
that might be filled by someone
yet to arrive, who at that moment
could be starting the journey
which would lead eventually to her.
Then, suddenly, my friends
said it was time to move on.
This was years ago,
and though I have forgotten
where we went and who we all were,
I still recall that moment of looking up
and seeing the woman stare past me
into a place I could only imagine,
and each time it is with a pang,
as if just then I were stepping
from the depths of the mirror
into that white room, breathless and eager,
only to discover too late
that she is not there.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. The only gymkhana I'd heard about before seeing this involved ponies. This is much cooler.

I bet my Ford could do that.

2. I think I need one of these mod cat prints for my imaginary house:

3. I wanted to find some new sci-fi to geek out about, so I started watching the 2005 Dr. Who series. Let the geeking out begin!

30 Things: A Little Progress

It's about time for the third quarter report on my 30 Things, but I don't feel as if I've made a lot of progress (in fact, I've regressed on riding my bike). But I do have two things done that I'm proud of:



That's #18 [Stop biting my fingernails] and #2 [Learn more about real estate].

Honestly, I feel that #18 can be up there with paying off debt as a supreme achievement. All it took was noticeable fingernail polish--because then people would notice all my chewed cuticles and hangnails, too--and I stopped.

Simple solutions, books for dummies....who knew?

"Not too much, or the soul could not sustain it"

After my weekend fling with opera I went through Monday and Tuesday wishing real life were like that, with passion and tenderness and great loves instead of house hunting and craft projects and work deadlines. I thought the cure was to listen to music that wasn't opera--I pulled out The Song of the Earth, the Missa Solemnis, unaccompanied Bach--but instead of helping I think that gave me Stendhal Syndrome.

So it's a good thing that going through the blog archives yesterday to find a picture of that jacket, I found this quote from An Equal Music:

Music, such music, is a sufficient gift. Why ask for happiness; why hope not to grieve? It is enough, it is to be blessed enough, to live from day to day and to hear such music--not too much, or the soul could not sustain it--from time to time.



(Related, and probably adding to my music issues this week: Does anyone out there need a semi-professional grade violin? I have mine up for sale; it's German, and does wonders with gut strings. Email me through my portfolio site in the right sidebar if you want more info.)

Tuesday Project Roundup: Should I?

I'm thinking about making a winter coat. I thought about it last year and then just bought one, but this year I've discovered blogs that walk you through tailoring techniques and provide source info for things like hymo interfacing and hair canvas.

What coat would I make? Well, like 90% of women on the planet, I've always loved the orange one from Breakfast at Tiffany's:

I could track down a vintage pattern that's similar and learn how to make bound buttonholes, but I have a better idea. Remember this coat from a few years ago?

If I make the longer length, leave off the shoulder capes, and then cinch it with a belt instead of buttons, I think I'd have a modern take on the Audrey coat. Plus, I'd know how it fits and how it goes together, making it easy to add fancy tailoring steps.

Of course, J. Crew has something similar this season, too--but I don't want to enable J. Crew any more than I have. (And it's $325. Not everyone is a high roller, J. Crew.)

So that's what I've been thinking about. I've even ordered swatches, so I think I may have answered the question of "Should I?" and moved on to "When can I get this project going?"

Russians Make The Best Imaginary Boyfriends

Over the weekend I had a fling with this guy:

He's Dimitri Hvorotovsky and he was the lead in the Met production of Eugene Onegin (opposite Renee Fleming!) that I had on DVD for two glorious days.

Damn, he can wear a t-shirt. And sing.

Sorry, Mikhail, but you've been replaced. I miss hanging out with musicians anyway.

Check out my new boyfriend in action here (older, but with subtitles) or here (that special production we shared over the weekend).

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Did you see the moon last night? This article tells us that it's the first time the Harvest Moon--the September full moon--has fallen on the equinox since 1991, and that it won't happen again until 2029.

2. I've discovered that opera on DVD is perfect to sew to. I don't get too wrapped up in the plot and most productions are four hours long. This weekend I have Eugene Onegin.

3. I'm relieved to be done with canning (for now), but I liked this WWII poster:

Rallying For Thursday

Here's a quote from W.B. Yeats to inspire us today:

Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart longs for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet.

(I mean "gather your efforts for one last fight" here when I say "rallying," not "drive really fast over rough ground." Although that would be cool on a Thursday, too.)

Live From Cannery Row

As you can see, I got more peaches and the correct size jars. As I said to myself on the second batch of peach jam, "I am canning the hell out of these peaches!"

From left to right: Peach-rosemary jam, peach jam, tomatoes, and peaches in syrup.

And now I'm thinking of the end of Cannery Row.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Fair Report

I finally made it to the fair Friday to check out my entries. Check out first place in the not-so-competitive "Blouse" category:
And check out fourth place in the much more competitive "Cable Sweater" category:

I was a little bummed about fourth (and about the fact that they had put my sweater on a hanger and stretched it all out of shape), but then I saw third place, which was exponentially more elaborate than mine and only got third:

This year I looked at exhibits in the 4-H building and the Creative Arts building, which I usually skip, an it was really heartening to see all the nice work from the young kids in 4-H. And we can all heed the advice of this sign:

I know being a "cool" person and liking the state fair is supposed to be ironic, but I think the fair is great. You think farming is disappearing or becoming totally industrialized, and then you see the eight-year-olds showing sheep or the lucky, lucky teenage girls* riding their horses and you realize that it's closer than you think.

Maybe that's why I like the fair: If I win a ribbon for sewing, I can imagine that someday I might win a ribbon for an egg from my chickens, or even be one of the people who drive in from their ranch and show their animals. Someday, I guess. Until then, I can enter things in the fair.


*Teenage girls, I hope you realize how lucky you are to have your horses. Some people are still longing for one at thirty. I'm just saying.

Happy Birthday To My Brother!

My brother turns 34 today. He's always been the best big brother, pulling me around the yard on a sled when we were little and taking car of my car now that we're grown up. Have fun today, brother!

Friday Unrelated Information

1. The story of Moses the camel being rescued from a sinkhole by Oregon firefighters makes me happy. And it reinforces my desire to date a firefighter--brave, strong, able to cook, and kind to animals to boot? Sign me up!

2. I think "curate" is the new "to gift" that's going to drive me bonkers. People: You don't "curate" a book or a blog. You write it, edit it, compile it, or collect it.

3. I'm finally going to the fair this weekend. I had planned to go last weekend but got hit with whatever cold is going around. My brother already gave me the report on my entries, but it will still be nice to go see the goats and the horses.

Look What I Have

I found this poster for my office at work. It's nearly three feet by five feet. Delight in it.

Canning: It Also Rquires Measuring

When I posted that Thing #28 was "easy," I didn't mention that I did it with my mom, at her house, with lots of supervision. Well, pride goeth before a fall, and lack of spatial awareness goeth with my second canning attempt.

I had half a box of peaches and big plans to make jam with some and then just can the rest in syrup. I imagined jars full of lovely peach halves like little suns. I planned the steps carefully. I peeled the peaches beautifully. And then the halves didn't fit in the jars and I had way too many.

As it turns out, I had half pint jars that I thought were the larger one pint size. Never in all the planning and peeling did it occur to me that the peaches were almost as big as the jars. No, I was convinced I had pint jars; peach halves fit in pints; it would all work out.

This wasn't a total canning fail, because after I cut everything into smaller pieces and kept going, it all worked out. (I ended up slicing and freezing the leftovers.) It's just that I now have seven successful single servings of peaches, laboriously canned.

Seven servings! I'm stocking up for the long winter!


You know what goes well with peaches? Bourbon.

Tuesday Project Roundup: In Which My Inner Hippy Is Victorious

Introducing the hippy dress to rule all hippy dresses:
(Yes, Toby has his space heater out already.)

Pattern: Hippy dress from France, modified a lot--I took about seven inches of fullness out of the back and adjusted the sleeve pieces in order to raise the neckline.

Fabric: Liberty of London "My Little Star"

Verdict: Awesome. I haven't been worn stars and comets on my clothing since a Rainbow Brite t-shirt in 1985.

It's Monday

We need a sonnet:

Vertigo
by Adrienne Rich

As for me, I distrust the commonplace;
Demand and am receiving marvels, signs,
Miracles wrought in air, acted in space
After imagination's own designs.
The lion and the tiger pace this way
As often as I call; the flight of wings
Surprises empty air, while out of clay
The golden-gourded vine unwatered springs.
I have inhaled impossibility,
and walk at such an angle, all the stars
Have hung their carnival chains of light for me:
There is a streetcar runs from here to Mars.
I shall be seeing you, my darling, there,
Or at the burning bush in Harvard Square.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Speaking of rats, I just found out that they're being used to sniff out landmines leftover from conflicts in Africa. They don't weigh enough to trigger the mine and their sense of smell is as good as a dog's. Also, they're called HeroRats. Awww!

2. Sunday at 8:00, the organ fest at the Cathedral of the Madeleine starts. It goes bi-weekly through the beginning of November, but the organist this Sunday is from Notre-Dame in Paris.

3. And here's James Dean in glasses with a kitten. What more do you need? Nothing!

Ratty!

My suspicions of an r-a-t visiting the spilled food underneath the bird feeder were confirmed last night. I spent about fifteen minutes thinking I had to get rid of the rat, now, because...it's a RAT! But then I realized a few things:

1. Quail, doves, a blue jay, a family of raccoons, and a family of squirrels that live under the neighbor's garage all visit the yard. None of those bother me.

2. I know I don't have rats inside my house. Toby is probably a good guarantee that I never will.

3. The rat sat up bravely and watched me with its little face and it looked JUST LIKE THIS:



So enjoy the sunflower seeds, Ratty. But stay out of sight of sight of the landlord because I doubt he has a laissez-faire policy for rats.

Well Said, Dr. Sagan

I have a foreboding of an America in my children's or grandchildren's time--when the United States is a service and information economy; when nearly all the key manufacturing industries have slipped away to other countries; when awesome technological powers are in the hands of a very few, and no one representing the public interest can even grasp the issues; when the people have lost the ability to set their own agendas or knowledgeably question those in authority; when, clutching our crystals and nervously consulting our horoscopes, our critical faculties in decline, unable to distinguish between what feels good and what's true, we slide, almost without noticing, back into superstition and decay.

From The Demon-Haunted World, 1996. Reading this and then going to yoga and talking about the infinite heart and how we're all made of love is a recipe for cognitive dissonance. (Although we are made of star stuff.)

Tuesday Project Roundup: And Now It's Fall

Hooray for long weekends and patterns you've made before! Here's a skirt and a blouse that I'm calling the first of the fall sewing. (What makes these floral prints more autumnal than any other prints that I've used? Um, they have red in them.)

I used the same pattern for this skirt as I did for the green dot one back in the spring, and the fabric was also from Yellow Bird Fabrics. Easy, unlined, stretchy, and fast.


And here's another button-back blouse, using some of the fancy international Liberty of London fabric. This time, I drafted a Peter Pan collar for it. I think I have this pattern out of my system now.

8 - 8 - 8

Eight hours labor, eight hours recreation, eight hours rest. Happy Labor Day! What's on your agenda for recreation today?

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Yesterday I entered the bias-sleeve blouse and the ORLY? owl sweater in the state fair. It was a craft explosion in the Home Arts Building.

2. I found more Mystery Science Theater to watch on Google Video. Pumaman made a joke about fabric that was followed by a joke about Carl Sagan. I love that show.

3. More house viewing is scheduled for today--a bungalow and a townhouse. The townhouse kind of feels like a cop-out, and I would have to have a container garden. But it has a powder room!

It's What Happens When You Have To Bounce Your Ideas Off Your Cat

My post yesterday reminded me of a quote from 30 Rock:

Liz: "How come men can be heavy and be respected, like James Gandolfini or Fat Albert? It's a double standard, and America needs to get over its body image madness."

Jack: "Oh, come on. What are we, back in college, freshman year? Let's go to the common room and talk about apartheid."

Let's Talk About The Art Of Manliness

Recently I found a site called The Art of Manliness. (I feel as surreptitious reading this site as I did reading wedding blogs back in the day--except I think reading this is healthier.) It has an awesome name going for it and it has nearly 72,000 followers on Facebook. It is, indeed, all about manliness.

I like how the author defines "manliness" here, equating it with virtue (although the site is also full of tutorials on such topics as how to escape a riptide), and I like that the site encourages dressing appropriately, cleaning one's car for a date, and generally being capable and decent.

But for all the virtue, it still seems mired in traditional gender roles, which I'm guilty of, too: Is my thinking a man should know things about cars and home repair and riptides any different from a man thinking I should know things about baking and mending and grocery shopping? Are we still mired in gender roles because men and women are fundamentally different, so there will always be "manliness" and "womanliness" instead of "humanness"?

It all reminds me of a quote from To The Lighthouse, where everyone is at dinner and the young male student is insecure and wants to join the conversation and the single lady painter notices:

There is a code of behaviour she knew, whose seventh article (it may be) says that on occasions of this sort it behoves the woman, whatever her occupation may be, to go to the help of the young man opposite so that he may...relieve...his vanity, his urgent desire to assert himself; as indeed it is their duty, she reflected, in her old maidenly fairness, to help us, suppose the Tube were to burst into flames. Then, she thought, I should certainly expect Mr. Tansley to get me out. But how would it be, she thought, if neither of us did either of these things? So she sat there, smiling.