Month: October 2005

  • Scenes from a rehearsal:


    Director: “How’s it going, tenors?”
    The Oldest Tenor: “In order to preserve our dignity, we shoot accusatory glances at one another.”


    Alto 1: “That is really high.”
    Alto 2: “Yeah, but sopranos like that.”
    Soprano: “What planet do you live on?”


    Mezzo: “We came in early because the sopranos came in late.”
    Alto 1: “I can’t even hear the sopranos.”
    Soprano to director: “You need to bring us in a little better.”
    Alto 2: “Has anyone blamed the organist yet?”


    That was the church choir.


    A while back, I went to a rehearsal of the Master Chorale, and enjoyed it. However, it meant rushing straight to rehearsal from work, and the difficulty of parking at the university, and my youngest objected to my being out so many nights, so I regretfully gave it up.


    La Bella has just emailed me saying that the director has asked her how they could get me back and offered all kinds of assistance, and there are just three rehearsals left before the concert — so I am going to take it back up again.


    My lack of skill with reading music will of course make this a challenge, but challenges are always fun, aren’t they?


    Frankly, I was very surprised that the director had even noticed me. As I recall, my name is coming up on the cookie rota, so it may be that rather than my voice which has inspired this…


    For those of us doing the HGP, this is “checkpoint week.” If a handmade gift is going badly, this is the time to cut line and move on to Plan B. Mine are going well, I think — here is a completed one — but I know that I must step it up with the knitting if I am to finish all the gifts I have planned.


    I try not to apologize for my photos, because I find it irritating in others, but it does seem to me that the flash has washed away the cables, which are the whole point of this project. Apart, that is, from the wooly-cozy thing. I intend to wrap these up with plenty of homemade cookies and candy, books, and DVDs, so the recipients can cocoon in comfort.


    Crazy Aunt Purl has invented the special means of posting about holiday gifts which allows no one to see the pictures or other information without a special decoder ring. This allows all knitters to post freely about their holiday gift knitting, even if the recipients might wander by the blog, because they will not be able to see thier own gifts.

  • A number of knitting blogs have declared it Socktober. I wish that I could participate, since “Socktober” is clearly a better word than “Sockuary,” which I observed.


    I cannot. I am resisting the temptation. I have three things on the needles and a dozen more planned. I will be strong. But I will, in honor of Sockuary, link you a picture-filled article, here, on medieval Egyptian socks, a subject which is doubtless as fascinating to you as it is to me. My thanks to Ozarque for the link that led me to it.


    And here is a link on intelligent design from #1 daughter. It came to her from her Italian friend Fred, who has joined us in our ongoing reading of Richard Dawkins. Her friend Frank also joined in (he said, “I thought you and I were good friends. But you talk with Fred about evolution, and you talk with me about candy bars.” I thought that was a good line).


    I am letting those guys catch up with me before I move on to a new Richard Dawkins. Plus I have a booksfree pile-up and Book Club to read for. I am also sending #1 daughter a copy of Anna Karenina, at her request, for when she wants a fiction break. I don’t know about you, but I seem to need a high fiction-to-nonfiction ratio, even when I am really enjoying the nonfiction in question.


    Anyway, I am finding it interesting to read and discuss Dawkins while at the same time studying the book of Genesis with people who say things like “You have to steep yourself in the truth in order to avoid the lies,” by which they mean that you shouldn’t bother actually learning anything about evolution before condemning it.


    The Empress and I both have been surprised by how regularly the topic of evolution vs creation is coming up in headlines and conversations. I had thought that it was essentially a closed subject, with just all the interesting details of processes to be discussed, but I was obviously wrong. The Empress thinks that there is some message for us in the way the topic continues to arise in our lives, and is waiting for clarification on that. I am thinking (being less mystical than she) that there are court cases on the subject going on, which leads to the topic’s being in the news, which makes people think about it and then, naturally, talk about it. In any case, here is a very interesting article on the subject which she pointed out to me.


    We started our wonderful jazzy Christmas music in choir last night. I am excited about it. There is a solo in “Behold That Star” which is too high for me but, hey, Pokey, you might want it — email BigSax if so.

  • We had such a fun visit from Pokey and the gang (could that be a band name?) The Empress and That Man came for dinner on their last night here. My husband did the cooking and the clean-up, for which he gets a whole lot of points. The boys took a day off from school to hang out with their big sister, and the whole crew went to the mall. Not my idea of fun, but I think that for many people this is a recreational activity.


    We also played a lot of games, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I am pleased to report that the kids did some studying, and there was some music. I even did some knitting.


    I also went to Target to buy a hot water bottle, to make sure that the bawks will actually fit. The newspaper said this morning that we ought to expect a cold, hard, expensive winter, so it seems reasonable to lay in a good supply of hot water bottles.


    This is easier said than done. They are available at Target, but I couldn’t find them. I asked the young woman in the pharmacy area, and she looked at me blankly. “To drink hot water from?” The term “water bottle” clearly meant a thing for drinking water, so the “hot” part confused her.


    No, I said, it was made of rubber — At this point, she looked askance, as though I were seeking some kind of sex toy. “Like a heating pad,” I tried. While this didn’t make any sense to her, it did lead us over to the heating pad section. There, on the bottom row, with the Epsom salts and other weird old people stuff, were hot water bottles. This could be the winter for them. Also for sweaters, quilts, afghans, and possibly even allowing the cats and dogs into the bed.


    I also bought yarn at Target. I surprised myself by doing so. I don’t care for novelty yarn, I don’t do stash enhancement and obviously do not have any project in mind that calls for 36 grams of vari-colored nylon fuzz, and this was definitely not on my shopping list for the day. But the colors were so pretty together.


    You probably already know that Target now has yarn in the $1 bin. There is this fuzzy nylon, there is some ladder yarn, and they were just unpacking a scratchy acrylic. When we can buy 50 grams of wool for under $2, 12 grams of nylon for $1 is clearly not a bargain. But there is a sort of fascination in the $1 bin, isn’t there? I have noticed that otherwise reasonable people will fill their carts at the dollar stores with items which cost less than a dollar in the grocery store. I guess this madness infected me, too. I’ll let you know how it knits up.


    If it turns out to be lovely on the needles, I will get some for a bed jacket I admired in Rebecca Home #7. It is shown in Amelie, which would put the finished object in the $100 range. But if heating prices are as high this winter as the papers have been predicting, a bed jacket might be a practical item. As well as allowing one to feel like Ginger Rogers in her satin boudoir.

  • We went to War Eagle. Distant Eyes drove us, and I apologized for the lack of color in the trees, on behalf of nature, but it was still a pretty drive.


     


     


     



    We went in to see the inner workings of the mill, and admire the water wheel and all. This picture of the mill  looks normal unless you look on the bridge and see the single-file line of people. There were lots of people.


    There was  a good deal of nice wood, leather, ceramic, and metal work, but the fiber offerings were disappointing.


     


    Naturally, I did not take pictures of people’s wares, in spite of the temptation in some cases (that is, the cases when I was thinking I would make one of those myself, and a photo to copy would have been handy). The exception was this little group of tin men hanging all alone and unguarded.


     

  • At the farmer’s market, I picked up two kinds of apples (the developer of one was there at the time, which was interesting), local honey, green beans, a couple of different loaves of artisanal bread, bitter melon, and hot peppers. Then I bought these three handsome pumpkins and set off walking the five blocks to my car. It must have been humorous if there were any watchers. If there were any watchers, however, then shame on them for not coming to help me.


     


    Three pumpkins were not enough, though, so the kids went out and bought a couple more. This is the Garden of Eden, a strange travelling nursery that sets up at various times during the year in the parking lot of a local movie theater. We can get plant starts there in the spring, pumpkins and mums in the fall, and Christmas trees in their season.



    With the proper seasonal sustenance, carving ensued.


     


     



    We had free-form large-knife carvers, pattern and special tools users, cutter-and-mallet users, and paring-knife users.


     


    My husband wanted to leave the green one uncarved and bake it instead, on the grounds that it smelled good and could be eaten.



     


     


     


    His pleas went unheard.


     



     


    And we ended up with a nice group of Jack-o-Lanterns on our porch.


     


     



     


     


    Perhaps you can see their spooky candlelit grins.

  • The housework orgy was successful. My husband and #1 son helped me when they got home. The house doesn’t really look different, since so much of what I did was of the deep-cleaning type of thing — scrubbing the pantry floor, washing the inside door of the broom cupboard — but there is still a sense of satisfaction.


    In the evening, I got some inches done on this nice mysterious object.


    I also got my review (as distinct from my fact-checking) for the history encyclopedia mailed off.


    Pokey and Distant Eyes and Scarf Boy are arriving today, so there will be grocery shopping and baking this morning, and I hope there will also be some yard work. With any luck, #2 son will get home early enough to assist me with the selection of some pumpkins. I foresee carving at some point this weekend.


    The craft fairs are on in our area this weekend — school in the county to the north of us closed Thursday and Friday because of them. Not so much because the teachers all wanted to go to the craft fairs as that the buses cannot get through with the extra traffic.


    Pokey is thinking of going to the biggest fair — 170,000 people last year, making it one of the biggest craft fairs in the world – with her guests. This fair is at the War Eagle mill — a water-powered mill where they grind grains now as they did a hundred years ago. I have never gone to their fair, because they crowds and traffic are not my idea of fun, but we do go to the mill pretty regularly for our cereals and flours. It is a beautiful drive, and they make very good pies there, too.


    The weather is cooperating with us. It should be a perfectly gorgeous weekend. I hope your is wonderful.

  • My new electronic toy is the Google Desktop. This program makes a toolbar at the side of your screen. You can get it easily and for free from Google.


    It is supposed to do several things. It should give me web clips from places I visit often, so that I will know whose blogs have updated without having to go look at their old entries. In fact, it tells me when Alison’s blog has updated, and often gives me crowds of old entries from Creating Textiles. This is of limited usefulness.


    It is also supposed to give me quick links to things I frequently use, but in fact that section has advertisements. “What’s Hot” is, I guess, the hot stuff on the web, and offers me things like Yahoo podcasts. I don’t know what a Yahoo podcast is, but I know that I don’t have time to add that to my already-perhaps-excessive computer time. There is a section for writing notes, too, but I have never used it.


    I do like the slideshow. They will make a nice slideshow of random pictures from your computer. This means that I get to look at pictures of my children and nice landscapes and whatnot. However, I also get lots of pictures from Crazy Aunt Purl’s website. These pictures are illustrations of stories, not intended to be attractive.


    My favorite, though, is the News feature. It puts up random headlines, and changes them frequently. You can click to read the entire story.


    Now, I get daily headlines by email from the New York Times. I have the San Francisco Chronicle on my toolbar, and am registered for the Washington Post and the Fort Worth Star Telegram. I also read the Wall Street Journal and the local paper in the physical world. So I suppose I get enough news.


    But the international headlines are much more intriguing.


    “Teachers arrested in South Korea”
    “War reportage daft, tribunal told”
    “Johansson survives wild card challenge in Stockholm”
    “UK turkey giant steps up”
    “Team escapes camel cruelty charge”
    “In brief: 40 year old virgin turns juvenile delinquent”


    Giant turkeys, actress’s poker games gone awry in Stockholm, mass arrests in South Korean schools — doubtless the real stories are less bizarre than the headlines suggest to me, here in Hamburger-a-go-go-land.


    In fact, I know that they are. Really, it is better not to click on the links. Only thus can we preserve the illusion that the world is an intriguing place. For example, the wild card challenge was not one poker player challenging another to a duel which then turned into a wild melee. I know you are as disappointed as I am.


    Today, with a sense of great gratitude to The Empress for giving me the day off, I will spend the day in an orgy of housework. I have guests coming tomorrow and — more alarmingly — the appraisers coming in on Tuesday. The past two weeks on HGP should have been the cleaning of the boys’ bedrooms, but they are teenagers and I just let it go. The appraisers probably will not let me say “Oh, don’t go into that room — it belongs to a teenager.” The laundry room and garage have not yet appeared in the HGP. And the guests cannot be expected to help shovel out bedrooms, nor to relax and enjoy themselves while I say “Please move your feet” and scrub around them.


    I think it can count as exercise if I move quickly.


    And resist finding out what “Outfoxed by murder and mocrowaves” means when it is the Financial Times saying it.

  • Sighkey said I must be good at time management. She then offered a delicate suggestion that list-making was crazy. She has perhaps attended one of those workshops where they tell you to say a nice thing first, so the truth won’t sting as much.

    As it happens, I am very good at time management. I have taught classes in it. I really believe in it, too. This is because I used to be very bad at time management. So bad that the term could hardly be used. When I was a student, I could leave my house to go to the library and reappear three days later, having lost my shoes. I was off the scorn scale when it comes to time management. I was, I am sure, a source of constant stress and trouble to everyone around me.

    Through diligent study and practice, I was able to overcome my natural scattiness. My life is calm and orderly and few people ever want to throttle me. I owe it all to to-do lists.

    Here’s what I like about to-do lists:

    1. By writing down what you need to do, you get rid of the hamster-wheel feeling that you have a lot to do and will never get it done.

    2. Often, when you write things down, you see that it is in fact a manageable list and you can settle down to accomplish it. If you see that it is too long a list, then you can decide what really must be done and what has to be removed from the list — and go write that on a future day’s list, so you don’t have to keep it in your mind and worry about it. Or, for that matter, you can decide that it wasn’t really that important and cross it off.

    3. By checking things off as they are finished, you can not only gain a sense of accomplishment, but can also see that things are being finished in time, or not. This allows you to monitor and adjust your work habits, or to develop a plan B before things become a crisis.

    4. When you complete a task, you don’t need to dither about thinking what you should do next. You have a list. Even if you don’t dither, not being inclined to dithering, having the list allows many of us to accomplish more because we do not have the adjustment time between tasks.

    Some people do not need a to-do list. My husband, for example, gets up early in the morning, goes to work and works hard at a well-defined job, and then is free to do whatever he wants. If one of the cars breaks down, it may be that fixing it is what he wants to do, but if he doesn’t want to, then he just doesn’t. This works for him because he has A Wife. If you do not have A Wife, or perhaps A Butler, then you probably need a to-do list.

    Maybe not. Different people approach things in different ways. For example, I know people who keep all the important work they need to get to in stacks on their desks where they can see it, and of course also lose it. I know people who spend huge amounts of time fretting and complaining about how much they have to do, and rarely actually do any visible work, possibly because they feel too overwhelmed to make a start. I know people who operate entirely by schedule, so that they get all the repetitive things done without effort, but then feel that they are in a rut and are not accomplishing things the way they thought they would when they were younger. And I know people who simply never stop working, because they never feel finished.

    You know I have to bite my tongue not to offer to help these people with their time management. Nowadays, I am paid largely to give people advice, but it is advice about how to teach reading or how to encourage children to learn their math facts, not how adults should run their lives.

    So, in honor of all the people who tell me that they are exhausted and overwhelmed and can’t accomplish anything (and to whom I cannot give this advice), I will tell you the simple, classic method of time management. After all, you can leave now and ignore it, so I feel no compunction.

    First, have a plan for your life. This doesn’t have to be detailed. My eldest told me the other day that she remembered back when I had the kids make timelines for their lives, and that she was coming up on the year when she had planned to have children. She had expected, she said, to feel older by now. I don’t think we necessarily need to have a timeline like that, but we should have a sense of what our mission is, or what-all we want to accomplish before we die. And we should decide which of those things are the most important ones, because you never know how long you will live, and you don’t want to run out of goals, so it is good to have more than you can do — but bad to realize that you did the ones that weren’t really important, and missed out on the ones that you really cared about.

    Second, have steps toward those goals. You can determine these by saying, “In order to do X, I will first have to do Y.” All the Ys are the steps.

    Third, match these steps up with smaller pieces of time. I like to make goals for a year, and then each month I make goals for that month that will bring me closer to completing my goals for the year. Then each day I list things that need to be done in order to move toward those smaller goals. I use a calendar and write things on the daily to-do lists in the future, too, so I can relax in the knowledge that they will all be done at the appropriate time.

    The truly important things in your life, your major goals — these should have some movement toward them every day, however small a step it may be. Sighkey could, at this point, use terms like “subroutines” and “parallel processing,” but I can only tell you, if you don’t do something every day toward your mission in life, then you have chosen the wrong mission.

    Some things are such big goals that they determine a lot of what else you do. For example, I have four kids. I might want to travel the world or have a taxing career — but I could not consider those goals until I finish bringing up my kids. (Actually, I already had a taxing career, before I had all those kids. Travel might be in my future. But there is no point in having conflicting goals at the same time. As Einstein said, “Time is God’s way of making sure that everything doesn’t happen at once.”)

    Then add maintenance and margin. That is, you want to take care of and enjoy the things you have accomplished and acquired. Planting the garden is all very well, but it must also be weeded and tended and harvested, and there is no point in planting it if you will not also be sitting or walking in it and taking pleasure in it.

    The people in your life, your health, all that sort of thing may not be on the list of “things you have accomplished and acquired,” but they still need maintenance. You can’t expect relationships with people to thrive if you ignore them because you are too busy, and you have to exercise and rest and otherwise care for yourself, too. You need a sabbath, or time to sharpen the saw, or whatever terminology you prefer, so you should build that into your planning as well. And, since things do not always work out exactly as we hope, it is good to put some extra time in your plans for getting lost, or having to wait for someone, or having trouble finding the details of that spitting incident.

    And sometimes, even with excellent planning, we screw up or change our minds and do not get done what we should get done. If there is a deadline involved, or responsibility to someone else, that bothers me a lot. But my own goals that I make for myself, I do not feel distressed if I don’t meet them. I can reschedule, or accept that I am not really going to do it. If I had a different temperament and would be bothered rather than challenged by overplanning, I would just make my goal lists shorter.

    And, yes, I am very productive. I’m proud of that. I worked at one place where I was deeply resented for it, but apart from that I can’t see any downside. Usually, coworkers are glad to have someone getting a lot of the work done. I’m also quite relaxed. As you know (if you read my blog and have total recall) I spend a lot of afternoons reading and knitting, or playing with my kids. And I owe it all to to-do lists. Thus endeth the testimonial in favor of time management.

  • My fact-checking assignment has been humbling — the deadline is today and I am not going to make it. I never miss deadlines, haven’t done so since I was a student, and it upsets me to break that good record.


    I have a variety of excuses. For one thing, I could see at a glance that much of the stuff that needed checking was basic biographical and genealogical data which I know how to find online, so I set it aside for a couple of weeks — only to discover that since the last time I searched for this data, ancestry.com has bought it all up and hidden it from non-subscribers. Oh, and then there were things like “X and Y formed an alliance,” which should probably not be included as facts at all, let alone things we should find primary sources for. And then there were things I had to go to the library for, and there was this potential scary-road issue, so I put that off day after day for another couple of weeks… In fact, as is so often the case when we have more than one excuse, I just screwed up.


    Well, today, I finally got to the library. It was a beautiful day and a beautiful drive. I got there early enough to stroll around and take a couple of pictures. There was a man in a long skirt sitting outside reading aloud “We create our own realities…” in a firm, loud voice to amuse those of us who waiting with him for the library to open. Inside, with the help of a nice young reference librarian, I was able to confirm the whole spitting-in-the-rotunda incident which has been taking up so much of my fact-checking time.


    A former colleague from the university was there, and she overheard my query. “That sounds like your kind of question!” she laughed, which struck me as slightly unfair. I was not inquiring into the spitting incident for my own interest, after all. This is an assignment.


    In any case, the nice young man was able to track down the details of the incident. It made the front page, back in April of 1895.


    It seems that our governor, back in those days, had a bit of a feud going on with the Representative from a rural area. It all had to do with railroads. So the Representative, Jones, cast some aspersions on the governor. Spying was mentioned, and bribery. The governor spat in the Representative’s face. Jones spat back.


    The governor, a hot-headed man, went for his pistol.


    It was clear from the way the story was written that there was nothing newsworthy about the fact that governor was packing heat in the rotunda. I guess everybody did in those days. Jones tackled him, and more legislators joined in the affray. Jones was wrapped around the governor’s body, and the governor was shouting “Let me go!” while maneuvering his pistol out of his pocket. Jones was unwilling to let the governor free because, it would seem, he had unaccountably forgotten his own pistol. He was fine with letting the governor go if someone would provide him with a gun.


    After a bit, the governor promised that he would not shoot Jones, Jones was prevailed upon to leave the room, and everything settled down.


    The newspaper reported the whole thing with avidity a couple of days later, including a quote from the governor saying that he did not intend to say or do anything more about it. He went on to become a senator, so the contretemps seems not to have done him any political harm.


    This was easily the most exciting part of the fact-checking assignment. There have been shootings in that rotunda while the legislature was in session, and sword duels among the legislators (outdoors), and a little battle over who should get to be governor, but as far as I know the spitting is unique.


    Don’t tell me history is dull.


    I have not had time to move on to any more knitting since finishing up Brooklyn, but I know I need to get back to my Christmas present knitting as quick as I can (Isis Rising reminds us that we have 78 days left, and that was a couple of days ago — one FO per week?). However, one of the ladies in my Sunday School class has a new grandbaby, so I am tempted to make the leaf hat which one of the Yarn Ho!s recently made (I cannot remember who it was… maybe I read too many blogs?). Pokey is bringing some friends down for the weekend, though, and I still haven’t confirmed that the governor’s father was actually an architect, so I may not get around to either. I also need to make a Hallowe’en costume for work, rescue my garden, and get some press releases done. Maybe I shouldn’t still be sitting here?

  • Here is Brooklyn, looking good, all finished at last. You can click this picture to see it larger, if you like. I would recommend this project to anyone, and will probably make another some day. Not for #1 son, of course, but for someone else. (In case you are a random knitter wandering through and do not already know, this is Brooklyn from Denim People.)


    I went around the knitting blogs to get help with my zipper problem, and the main thing I noticed was that no one else seems to have any trouble with zippers.


    Silkenshine pointed out this nice tutorial, but in the end I went with this method, on the grounds that it was more complicated. I figured, if I tried a simple method and it didn’t work and I had to take it all out again and then do something more complicated, I would suffer more than if I did the opposite.


    The Water Jar, by the way, is hereby untagged. He feels that the Joy Meme leads to dull posts, which I admit. Many people have pointed out how boring joy and indeed mere happiness are in contrast to misery. Here is Michael Kelly’s Page of Misery, which is far more witty and picturesque than lists of ten things that bring someone joy. I encountered this page with the assistance of Chase Me Ladies, who is always entertaining and acerbic.


    However, we would always prefer, ourselves, to be happy rather than miserable. Few of us would agree to be miserable in order to provide piquancy to the lives of others. Some are destined to find themselves in that position; a few end up producing wonderful art, though most end up being like Marvin the depressed robot. (I feel that I must point out that there have been plenty of great artists in all fields who have been happy. For every Beethoven, there is a Bach.)


    This is where fiction comes in. Philippa Gregory, for one, can always be counted upon to provide an exciting and unusual story, with just the right amount of misery, with a guarantee that no actual feelings were hurt in the course of writing the book. This one does involve some real people — the Tudors — so we know in advance that there was real misery involved, but it was all over centuries ago, so we don’t have to suffer over it too much.