#440a Bump

Just a bump, in case anyone is still getting alerts - I'm now at http://TheSilkenTouch.blogspot.com.

~~Silk

440 New Journal

Well, I am moving to http://TheSilkenTouch.blogspot.com. Maybe temporarily, maybe permanently. We'll see.

I'm NOT moving because of the ads AOL has decided to burden us with. I don't like them, but I could stand them. I'm experimenting with moving because in the 250+ emails I got yesterday and today about the AOL community's furor over the ads, a lot of people said interesting things about other blog hosts, so I looked at a few, and I liked what I saw.

Blogspot doesn't have some of the stuff AOL Journals has, like alerts for readers, but it's got other stuff like much easier editing, and you can preview and accept or reject comments from other people BEFORE they are posted in your blog.

The user interface is awkward at first - like I didn't know I had to log into www.blogger.com to update the blog at blogspot, and I went around in a lot of circles before I found out how to edit certain sections - but if you play with it for a while, it all starts to hang together and make sense.

And it's free.

So until I say otherwise, that's where I am now.

Come on over to http://TheSilkenTouch.blogspot.com, and check out my new format.

~~Silk

#439 This Journal Will Be Moving

Since AOL has added advertising to our journals, I am considering joining throngs of other AOLers in moving to another host. I have begun a new journal at http://TheSilkenTouch.blogspot.com. There's nothing much there yet, and I plan to explore a few more options, but I thought I'd let you know, I'm packing up.

Dinner last night with a friend. Mixed reviews. He had lemon chicken, and it was so lemony it literally took his breath away, in the not-good sense. Both of us had partially cooked pasta, too chewy. On the other hand, my chicken S-something-or-other (a chicken Cordon-Bleu in a wonderful mushroom cream sauce) was delicious.

He's one of the few men I've known who will actually complain when a restaurant meal isn't up to par. He was obviously annoyed and would have sent the pasta back except that it took 45 minutes to arrive, which is exactly what he said to the waitress.

I'm not sure what I think of that. On the one hand I admire his assertiveness. On the other hand, it frightens me a little. So far I've been able to get away with annoying him occasionally (I hope it's occasional), but how much can I get away with before he tells me my pasta is tough?

I think that his frightening me a little is part of the attraction. Passing my fingers through the flame, maybe.

~~Silk

#438 Old Letters

While I am cleaning out the paper in the den, I am finding a lot of old correspondence.  It's amazing to revisit my mind from years back.  I'm afraid that's something that today's youth will miss.  With all their correspondence being of the ephemeral variety (online, phone), they will have less opportunity to revisit their younger mind.

Anyway, it has slowed down the house clearing project considerably.

I am finding many letters and (paper) journal entries I had written to and about Jay back in the beginning, when we first realized how things were between us, but we didn't know what to do about it.  I am amazed that many of the same things I felt then, I am feeling again now.  But I'm much calmer about it now.  I guess because there's no "baby lust" now.  No "tick, tick" of the hormonal clock.

I found very upbeat and positive letters from my youngest sister, written two years before she drank herself to death.

I am also finding letters I had written to friends and Jay's sisters when we were fighting his cancer.  Now, I can't believe what we went through.  Really rough.  One of the letters was the infamous "Christmas letter" of 2000.  Jay's entire extended family is really big on the "our year" letters, where you brag about the wonderful year your family has had.  I dislike the whole concept.  If you can't keep in touch during the year, what makes you think people want all that information at the end of the year.  But, as a member of the family, I had to meet expectations.  (Although I flatly refused to send those silly photo postcards.)

I had missed writing the 1999 letter because the tumor had reoccurred, right before Jay was supposed to get the bone marrow transplant, and the whole treatment plan was changed, there was another craniotomy, daily radiation, and so on, and everything was just too frantic.  I didn't even get cards out in 1999, let alone a letter.  So the 2000 letter covered two years of brain cancer battle.  I mean, how could it not?  That's ALL we'd done for two years. 

I will never forget (or forgive) a subsequent telephone call from one of his sisters.  Her comment on the letter was "Merry Christmas" in a very bitter tone, "way to throw a wet towel on everybody's holiday."  Gee.  Sorry about that.

So I'm reading and keeping instead of simply  sorting and pitching.  A temporary hitch in the git-along.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
BTW - Piper called early this afternoon, and I answered the phone in the kitchen.  I needed to get some information from the den for him, so I set the kitchen phone down, and picked up in the den.  We talked for long enough that I forgot that the kitchen phone was off the hook.  So if anyone tried to call me today, that's why you couldn't get me.  Sorry.

~~Silk

#437 The Wine Tasting Outing

Programmers' Drinking Song

99 little bugs in the code,
99 little bugs,
You fix one bug, compile it again,
100 little bugs in the code.

100 little bugs in the code,
100 little bugs,
....
Repeat until bugs=0.

___________________________________

Well, I missed the wine tasting yesterday.  The newsletter said it was in Pine Bush, so I dragged out the map and found Pine Bush on route 209, north of Kerhonkson.  The directions further said to follow the "wine trail" signs to the winery.  Pizza afterward at a pizzeria in Pine Bush.  I gave myself an hour and 15 minutes to get there.

There were NO signs for Pine Bush on 209.  I went all the way to Ellenville, then back north to Kerhonkson, then  back to Ellenville, then back to Kerhonkson, then I found an old man who told me that Pine Bush was on route 52.
"Go to south Ellenville, then turn right in town onto 52.  You'll see a sign for Pine Bush."
"Turn right on 52?  That's west, right?"
"Yeah."

I found 52, and turned right at the "Pine Bush 12 mi" sign.  A few blocks later, the road split.  52 west went right, 52 east went left.  No Pine Bush sign.  Old man said right, right?  West, right?   Right.  I took the right.  Twelve miles later, there sure enough was a little town, but it wasn't Pine Bush.

Found another old man.  "Um, am I anywhere near Pine Bush?"
Laughter.  "Nope.  You gotta go back to Ellenville, go straight through town, and up t'mountain on t'other side.  Pine Bush will be on 52, about 12 miles t'other side of Ellenville."

By the time I got to Pine Bush (which was in the next county down, by the way, and therefore this version of Pine Bush wasn't on my map), I was an hour and a half late.  So I gave up on the winery and found the pizza parlor.  Where I found the Mensa group.  Which consisted of the two organizers.  They had just ordered. 

It's just as well that I hadn't looked for the winery.  The couple wondered where everybody else was, and I suggested that maybe they were wandering the highway between Ellenville and Kerhonkson, or somewhere west of Ellenville.  Laughter.  Then the guy who had written the directions speculated that they might be wandering out there somewhere nearby.  He said it was just as well that I hadn't tried to find the winery.  It seems that the "Wine Trail" signs I was supposed to follow don't point to this particular winery.

Ah, typical Mensa. 

Turns out there are at least two Pine Bushes in New York state - a village and a hamlet locally (a hamlet being a wide spot in the road).  Just as there are two Rochesters - the city and the town.  There are two Red Hooks - a village and a scary section near the NYC docks.  There are lots of duplicate names.  I don't know how the postal service handled it before zip codes.

Ah, typical New York.

~~Silk

#436 Patrick's Saturday Six - Episode 83

The famous Saturday Six, from Patrick at "Patrick's Place", http://journals.aol.com/pattboy92/PatricksPlace/entries/1341.

1. You are invited to spend a night, alone, in a large house that is believed to be haunted.  A close friend of yours whom you trust tells you of his or her own experience, and you have sufficient reason to believe that there may be a genuine haunting going on there.  Without promise of any kind of reward for staying the night, would you agree to do so?  Yes.  If there are no ghosts, it would be interesting.  If there are ghosts it would be interesting. 

2. What do you most enjoy about your job?  Being retired.   

3. Who was the last person you had a conversation with?  What was the main topic of the conversation?  Well, in the past few hours I've talked with the deli lady about how good the bacon smelled, and a telephone discussion with my gutter man about his coming to clean the gutters today, but I don't consider those real conversations.  The last real conversation would have been with Roman about what's going on in his life and how it affects us.

4. Take this quiz:   What kind of "smart" are you?  All-around.  Big deal.

5. What was the last food that you totally ruined -- to the point that it was inedible -- when trying to cook?  Oh, come on.  I ruin everything that requires mixing ingredients or more than a little heating.  Restaurants and doggie bags are how I "cook".  Mostly I eat yogurt, raw vegetables, and fruit.  Monkey diet.

6. STRANGELY-OBSCURE QUESTION #1:  If you had to do over again, would you change anything?  If I could do it over knowing what I know now, I would not have been coerced into marriage #1, I'd have waited for Obie, I'd have stayed in teaching rather than joining The Company back in 1968, I'd have flirted with a certain person at my last job (I didn't know what he had to offer), I'd have forced my baby sister into rehab, stuff like that.  But then I wouldn't have had Jay or Daughter.  So many possible branches on the tree, each with its own pros and cons.  Mainly I wish I could say that at every juncture I did the best I could.  Unfortunately, I didn't always.  I guess that's the big thing I'd change - I wish I had followed my own heart and mind more.

PS - Back to #3 - My gutters are getting cleaned right now, and I had a nice conversation with him about cruises.  He's a talker.  I showed him my pictures from the Hawaiian cruise, and he helped me locate the site for the wine tasting this afternoon.  When he's finished with the gutters, I'm going to ask him to help me get the African screen out of the van.  That would be such a relief!  He also cleans vinyl siding, and knows a good roofer, so we're lining up next spring's projects.

~~Silk

#435 Disappearing Saturday

Here it is Sunday already, and I haven't the faintest idea where Saturday went.

After finally falling asleep at about 4 am, I got up at 9 Saturday morning to go to the recycle center.  I unloaded some storage containers from the van, and then filled the body of the van with cut-up cardboard, plastic-glass-foil mix, some basement paper, and one of my four vacuum cleaners.

Explanation for four vacuum cleaners:  The one I took to recycle is a huge heavy upright Hoover.  Cleans well, very powerful, but it had come with Jay, and it's just too big and heavy for me, and won't fit under the furniture.  I dislike uprights anyway, because you have to move the whole danged thing when you use it.  Cleaner number 2 is a good and expensive canister, but the power head choked on oriental fringe one day and burned out.  When I couldn't get it fixed real quick, I bought a small cheap canister to use until I could get the good one fixed.  That was back when we had two dogs and a long-hair cat, and we couldn't possibly go a month without vacuuming.  Then I finally got mad at not being able to easily find bags (or remember which bags to buy), so last fall I bought a bagless vacuum.  I LOVE it!

The recycle center has set up a building where you can take books and almost any kind of household stuff and anybody can take away anything they want.  I've found some wonderful books there, and I've gotten rid of television sets, Christmas trees, knick-knacks, and packing materials.  Local Bard college students furnish their digs from that building.  (They won't accept the recliner.  Too big and too hard to dispose of if no one takes it.)

And that's the last thing I remember until Ballykissangel came on and I watched the Saturday PBS Brit-com lineup.

I don't have the faintest idea where the rest of the day went.

Tomorrow (Sunday) - wine tasting at a valley winery, with Mensa, followed by pizza. (??)  If I get up in time.

~~Silk

#434 Amorous Definitions

Casanova
1.  A man who is amorously and gallantly attentive to women.
2.  A promiscuous man; a philanderer.[After Giovanni Jacopo CASANOVA DE SEINGALT.]
------------------------------------------------------
Lothario
1.  A man amorously attentive to women
2.  A man who seduces women
3.  A man whose chief interest is seducing women
-------------------------------------------------------
Gallant
1.  Adj.      a. Courteously attentive especially to women; chivalrous.
                 b. Flirtatious; amorous.
2.  Noun    a.  A man courteously attentive to women.
                 b. A woman's lover; a paramour.


Hmmmm.  A gallant(with emphasis on the chivalrous) Lothanian(1,2) Casanova(1), definitely.   At least that's how he affects me.  You'd never guess it looking at him!   Except when he takes his glasses off and tips his head back and smiles.  Then he becomes very handsome ... and I swear I see the horns sprouting. 

Ladies, protect your hearts!

~~Silk

#433 News and Stuff

When I listen to the radio, it's NPR.  When I watch TV news, it's usually BBC.  So I do get a lot of international news.  I get the local newspaper, but seldom get anything out of it beyond the crossword.  Background on international news is obtained from weekly news magazines.  So yes, I am aware of the situation in France.  No, I have no opinion as to the cause or the cure.  80% of the rioters don't either - they just joined in 'cause it looked like fun.  Ok?  I await the analysis of someone more tuned than I.  In the meantime, I worry about a few French acquaintances, although I guess the danger is to their cars or businesses more than their persons, so far, anyway.  

In news closer to home, my little world has righted itself.  Friend and I are on a different track than before, with a new and much clearer understanding.  I am content.  For the immediate future, anyway.

I will break my "no comment on the news" rule for an observation on two news items I came across recently:

Item 1:  The "free" television networks - you know, the ones who agree to let you watch their programming free in exchange for watching the commercials, i.e. ad-supported content - are worried that they are on their way out, undermined by recorders and cable - i.e. fee for content.  Their world is changing and they don't know how to respond.

Ok.

Item 2: Microsoft (fee for content) is worried that they will be losing market share to "free" software (ad-supported).  Their world is changing and they don't know how to respond.

Exactly the opposite from the TV folks.

There's something amusing about that.


~~Silk

#432 Pride and Prejudice

I wanted to see the movie Pride and Prejudice tonight.  The TV ads said it was opening tonight.  Apparently not anywhere in the Hudson valley from Albany to Newburgh!  Blech!  I am disappointed.

I applied the weatherstripping to the front door frame, and believe it or not, it wasn't thick enough.  I had to apply two full layers.  Since there's only 10 feet on a roll, I have to go buy another roll to finish the job.

Cold air comes in under the door too, and I don't know what to do about that.  It's a steel door, so it's not easy to screw some kind of plate to the bottom. 

More paper burning today.  More cardboard cutting.  Recycle center tomorrow.  I am amazing myself by what I am willing to throw out.  The biggest problem is that there doesn't seem to be anywhere to "throw" some of this stuff.  What does one do with a mouse-scented recliner?

~~Silk

#431 Thursday

Quick short entry - for Thursday.

Last night (Wednesday), dinner with Mensa, a Greek restaurant.  I had something that was exactly like cinnamon egg custard with meat in it, two different varieties that looked and tasted exactly the same, and a tiny snip of spinach pie that was very good.  And what was supposed to be tiramisu, but looked and tasted like melted marshmallow with two lady fingers stuck in it.

One of our members has Tourette Syndrome and a seizure disorder.  He gets rides with other members to the dinners, since he daren't drive.  Last night during dinner, he noticed that his right hand was trembling, but not the left, and said that meant he would have a seizure in about two hours.  Then pretty soon he said that there were "funny colors", which meant it was coming on faster, maybe an hour.  The guy he had come with was planning to do some grocery shopping on the way home, and since I have experience with seizures (Jay's) so they don't frighten me, and would pass the guy's apartment, I volunteered to give him a ride home.

It was a pretty interesting ride.  I got him to his home before any seizure, but MAN, could he talk!  He kept apologizing for being so talkative - said that that's a symptom of the seizures - but he talked and talked faster and faster, and was actually pretty interesting.  He's an interesting person.  Weird, but interesting.

I went to the hardware store today to buy weather stripping for the front door.  I had bought some really fancy magnetic stuff a few years ago and couldn't install it then because the falling-apart stuff on the door was nailed in between the two parts of the frame and I couldn't get it out.  Now that has finally completely disintegrated - but now, of course, I can't find the fancy stuff.  Oh, well.  The stick-on foam strip I bought is cheap and easily removed, so if I ever do find the good stuff, I'm ready.

Anyway, when I left the hardware store, I discovered I didn't want to go home.  I drove and drove the back roads, some I'd never been on before, up and down steep hills through sparsely populated lands, trying to get lost.  Beautiful scenery.  I'll never find it again.  Ended up at Taghkonic Lake.  Took the Taconic Parkway back home.

Spent the evening cutting up cardboard boxes and burning paper.  The living room is starting to look ... um ... possible.

~~Silk

#430 Burning Thirty Years

I looked at all the paper to be discarded.  What's upstairs was all bundled to go to the recycle center.  The way it works, the town sells the "good" paper - shiny catalogs, office paper, glossy newspaper inserts, but they have to pay to have "rough" paper, newspapers and light cardboard, hauled away.

They have one truck body (I don't know how else to describe it) for each.  The rough paper one fills up fast.  I usually go late on Saturday mornings (they are open also on Wednesday mornings), and there's usually very little space left for newspapers.

If I brought even a quarter of all this stuff at once, they'd bar me from the place forever.  And what's upstairs is tiny compared to what's in the basement.  Jay never threw out a piece of paper in his life, and what I'm finding downstairs has moved from Pittsburgh to White Plains, to Dallas, to here with him.  Thirty years worth.

If I try to take a reasonable amount per trip, it would take forever.

I have a fireplace.

Heh, heh.

It took nine hours over the past two evenings, but I have burned all the upstairs paper.

I stink.

One thing I discovered is that the "rough" stuff and office paper burns easily and quickly, with nice white, yellow, and red flame.  Catalogs and magazines are difficult to burn.  Plus, they burn with blue and green colored flames, which means a lot of metals in the material, which means pollution.  They are a pain.

So, I'm not going to attempt to burn the shiny paper in the basement.  But burning only the rough paper will reduce the quantity left to go to the dump or recycle considerably, so that's what I'll do.  And the town can make a little money on the shiny.

Plus, I'm a bit of a pyromaniac.  I love to watch the flames.

Win-win situation.

~~Silk

#429 Interpretation

Sometimes you can't really know what someone is saying to you.  You hear the words, but sometimes the words carry a meaning different from their dictionary definition.  If you have no other basis for interpretation, you interpret from your own base.  In an intimate relationship, the only way to fully understand the other person's messages, or lack thereof, is to understand their motivations, how their mind works.

If you don't understand that, you don't have an intimate relationship.   You're just skimming along the surface. 

~~Silk

#428 How to Lose Votes

Tomorrow is local election day.  I'll be so glad when it's over.  Every day for the past two weeks I've had at least two people knock on my front door, or, if I'm not home, leave paper (agh!  Paper!  More paper!) rubberbanded to the doorknob.

My mail has been two-thirds election flyers.

I get a minimum of six taped phone calls a day urging me to vote for so-and-so.  If they call and I don't pick up, there's a series of "hangup"s on the machine, which repeats over and over until either I get home and answer, or they fill the tape up, so I can't get real messages.  That has happened twice in the past week.

Ordinarily, even when I'm home, I let the machine answer before I pick up (it's not really screening, because if it's someone I know I always do respond regardless of who it is).  But the past few weeks, since I've been getting more calls from someone I want to hear from, I've been jumping to answer the phone more often.

Now I am very anxious to hear from him.  Yesterday and today, every time the phone rang, I leapt for it with hope that it's the right person, and when it's another taped candidate message, I am crushed.  More roller coasters.

A few minutes ago another representative of a candidate rang the doorbell, and tried to hand me paper for candidate X.  I looked at the photo on the card and said "Yes.  I've been getting LOTS of mail from her."  He had the grace to look crestfallen, and said "Yeah.  I was afraid of that."  I guess he's been getting an earful from people as annoyed as I.

He took his paper away with him.

Trash/recycle collection in this area is frightfully expensive.

~~Silk

#427 May

I haven't eaten anything yet today, other than six ounces of yogurt.  I don't really feel like eating, but felt I should.  The refrigerator is full of doggie bags again, so I reached in and grabbed the closest, which happened to be the steak from last night.  One look made me feel even less like eating.  Blah.  I don't eat when I'm happy, and I don't eat when I'm unhappy.  With the roller coaster I've been on lately, it's no damn wonder I'm losing weight.

So I called May instead.  I've been neglecting her.  Last I knew, her cousin was staying with her while undergoing cancer treatment at Sloan-Kettering, so knowing that she had company, I didn't call as often as I thought of her. 

Turns out the cousin stayed only a few days, then went back home for treatment.  Agh.  I feel like such a bad friend.

We talked for about two hours.  She sounded pretty good, and she didn't seem to notice that I'd been remiss.  Two hours is about average for a phone conversation with her, but she usually tells the same (The Company) stories every call.  Tonight was all new, and very enjoyable.  We talked about cancer treatments, doctors, medical insurance, social security and medicare, class action suits and lawyers, charitable trusts, taxes, and investments.  All new topics.  

I'll have to contact NJKC and see if we can find time for the three of us to have dinner some evening.

Correction.  Some weekend.  My weekends are always free.  Probably even more free now.

Snort!

Going from sad to angry is probably a good sign.

~~Silk

#426 Sad

I drove into the village today and walked.  And walked and walked and walked until my right hip threatened to lock.  It's a small village.  I had to circle several neighborhoods twice.  It was another beautiful day, and I guess the village will be vacuuming up leaves soon, because at about every third house someone was out blowing or raking leaves to the curb. 

I had a lot to think about, and if I sat at home I'd think in circles and spiral down, so I walked and walked until the sun went down.  Now I'm too tired to think, but I'm still thinking anyway.  I am very sad.

Men are too much trouble.  Too hard to even attempt to understand.  Especially closed and evasive men.  I've pretty much had it.  Either he opens up and stops hiding from me, or I have to walk away.  If I stay, it will be on a different basis, with a different understanding.  I dumped that on him last night, and now it's up to him.  So I don't know why I'm still thinking so much - there's nothing left for me to decide.  I'm tired of feeling like I'm getting just leftover crumbs (he says I'm not, but that's how it feels), and that's about it.

I do understand that he has been emotionally battered, and that he needs to protect himself.  But if he doesn't understand by now that I won't hurt him that way, there's nothing more I can do.  I asked him to think about it and not to call me for a few days. 

So as soon as I got in the house this evening, naturally I looked to see if there was a message on the phone.  And I could cry because there isn't.  I'm a mess.

To make things worse, I'm afraid he's got a health issue, and he won't let me in enough to commiserate or help.

At the end of my walk, I stopped at the CVS and bought a pack of cigarettes and another box of the nicotine patches.  I stopped using the patches two or three weeks ago because even level 2 is too strong for me.  Every few days I'd buy a pack of cigarettes and smoke two or three of them, then fill the rest of the pack with water and throw them away.  Those two or three were sufficient to satisfy the craving, and to remind me that I don't really get all that much out of them. 

But I fully intend to smoke this entire pack.  All tonight if possible.  I'll start up with the patches again tomorrow.  But tonight I need the calming, and I don't drink or drug, so nicotine is it.

Don't yell at me.  I'm doing the best I can.

~~Silk

#425 Distressing the Cat

Miss Thunderfoot and I have been having some kind of misunderstanding.  She seems to think I'm trying to starve her.  Today I realized that cats don't understand about the fall time change.  Dinner time is an hour later, and she doesn't like that.

Walked again today.  I don't know how far, but my thighs and hip joints are tired.   Probably from yesterday's lifting stuff destined for the basement.  That's coming along, but not as quickly as I'd like.  Don't know if I'll make that Thanksgiving deadline I'd set, but I'm trying.  There's just too much other stuff going on, too.  Busy busy.  Fun fun.  Run, Silky, run! 

~~Silk

#424 Spanking Works!

I was setting up a canvas and cedar wardrobe in the basement today for my fluffier coats, that won't fit in the tiny coat closet upstairs, and I was a little concerned because it seemed a bit dampish down there.  There's a dehumidifier, but it wasn't running.  I turned it up the "dryer" end of the dial, and it still didn't start.  Up to "constant", and still nothing.  Eeeek!  I've got several thousand dollars worth of fabric and trims down there, not to mention the coats I'm about to store.  This is not good.  "Musty" is not good.

I checked all the plugs and the circuit breaker, and everything looked right.  It wasn't a full pan because it's connected to a drain in the floor.  I decided I was going to have to buy a new dehumidifier tomorrow.

I went back to putting the wardrobe together, and at one point I set the hammer down on a stack of boxes.  The top box shifted, and the hammer fell on the dehumidifier.

It started right up.

I guess those people who pound on appliances when they're balky know a thing or two.

~~Silk

#423 Windy Wednesday

I went to the deli, bank, and drugstore this afternoon, and decided to walk a bit while I was in the village.  It was very windy and very cold, and I wasn't dressed warmly enough, but I did it anyway, because it's good for my weight and good for my back.  Time to put gloves in the car again, for "just in case".

I wasn't wearing my watch, so I got very confused as to what time it was.  Several shops that were supposed to be open until at least 5 pm were closed, so even though I thought it was earlier, I decided it must be after 5.  And then when I passed the Indian restaurant, which opens for dinner at 5, it was closed.  Huh?

It was about 4:30 when I got home, so now I'm wondering why all those shops were closed.

Very strange.

~~Silk

#422 Phone Tag

I set aside time this evening to do some paperwork, and most of it was consumed by the telephone. 

Daughter called, but she was about to get into the car to go home from work, so she asked me to call her back in a half hour.

I did.  But she had stopped at the grocery store, was putting bags in the car, and asked me to call her back in ten minutes, she'd be home by then.

In the meantime, my friend from the end of  entry #419 called.  He had tried to call Monday afternoon (but I was still at lunch), tried to leave a message to say that he had a meeting last night and couldn't call later.  But my machine wouldn't take a message, he got double beeps (I had five "blank" messages on my machine when I got home), so I didn't kill him.  However, I told him I had to call Daughter, she seemed to want to ensure I'd be available, there must be something up, so I'd call him back after I talked with her.

Called Daughter.  We talked for a while.  Nothing earthshattering.  I wondered (to myself) why she seemed so anxious to talk with me.

After I hung up with Daughter, I called my friend back, on the cell phone, and settled in for a long and satisfying conversation.

During my talk with him, Daughter (I am assuming) tried to call my cell (yes, I have call waiting, but I never learned how to use it), then she tried the house phone, and I heard her leave a message on the answering machine that she DID have an issue she needed to talk with me about, and was now ready to talk about it.

Friend and I were into something, so I didn't immediately kick him off the phone, but then the house phone rang again, and there was no message left, so I figured Daughter was getting anxious, so ...  and my memory gets a bit fuzzy here, but to the best of my recall this is how it went ... I told him I'd have to call Daughter again, and I'd call him back. 

He has the patience of a saint.

Called Daughter.  She and Hercules were eating dinner, and she "couldn't talk now".  Call back later.  I waited a half hour and called again, and I got her cell voice mail.  Four times over the next 20 minutes.

Gave up and called my friend back.  I felt bad about hanging up on him twice and then making him wait so long.  We continued and finished our conversation.

Called Daughter again.  I had gotten her voice mail earlier because she had been talking to someone else (yes, she does have call waiting, and she does know how to use it).   And no, she didn't want to talk about whatever the big issue was anymore because she had gotten out whatever she had to say with whomever she had been talking with while I had my friend on hold and had been trying to get hold of her.

I think she was annoyed that I seemed to have put my friend before her.

I am frustrated and annoyed that I was unable to make any kind of connection with her, and I didn't get my paperwork done.  I'm going to be up half the night again tonight.

Whatever!!!!!!

~~Silk

#421 My Age in Seconds

From http://www.paulsadowski.com/birthday.asp

You entered: 10/27/1944

Your date of conception was on or about 4 February 1944.

You were born on a Friday
under the astrological sign Scorpio.
Your Life path number is 1.

The Julian calendar date of your birth is 2431390.5.
The golden number for 1944 is 7.
The epact number for 1944 is 5.
The year 1944 was a leap year.

As of 11/1/2005 3:24:11 PM CST
You are 61 years old.
You are 733 months old.
You are 3,184 weeks old.
You are 22,285 days old.
You are 534,855 hours old.
You are 32,091,324 minutes old.
You are 1,925,479,451 seconds old.
You are 8.72211350293542 dog years old. (You old hound dog, you!)

There are 360 days till your next birthday
on which your cake will have 62 candles

Those 62 candles produce 62 BTUs,
or 15,624 calories of heat (that's only 15.6240 food Calories!) .
You can boil 7.09 US ounces of water with that many candles.  

In 1944 there were approximately 2.5 million births in the US.
In 1944 the US population was approximately 131,669,275 people, 44.2 persons per square mile.
In 1944 in the US there were approximately 1,595,879 marriages (12.1%) and 264,000 divorces (2%)
In 1944 in the US there were approximately 1,417,000 deaths (10.8 per 1000)


Your birthstone is Tourmaline
The Mystical properties of Tourmaline

Pink Tourmaline promotes female balance and protection. Green Toumaline promotes male balance.

Some lists consider these stones to be your birthstone. (Birthstone lists come from Jewelers, Tibet, Ayurvedic Indian medicine, and other sources)

Opal, Jasper

Your birth tree is

Walnut Tree, the Passion

Unrelenting,strange and full of contrasts, often egoistic, aggressive, noble, broad horizon, unexpected reactions, spontaneous, unlimited ambition, no flexibility, difficult and uncommon partner, not always liked but often admired, ingenious strategist, very jealous and passionate, no compromises.

There are 54 days till Christmas 2005!

The moon's phase on the day you were
born was waxing gibbous.

It says I was born on a Friday, which I hadn't known before. "... Friday's child is loving and giving."

~~Silk

#420 From a Mensa Group Site

One evening a grandson was talking to his grandmother about current events.  The grandson asked his grandmother what she thought about the shootings at schools, the computer age, and just things in general.

The Grandma replied, "Well, let me think a minute, I was born before:

       ' television

       ' penicillin

       ' polio shots

       ' frozen foods

       ' Xerox

       ' contact lenses

       ' Frisbees and

       ' the pill

There was no:

       ' radar

       ' credit cards

       ' laser beams or

       ' ball-point pens

Man had not invented:

       ' pantyhose

       ' air conditioners

       ' dishwashers

       ' clothes dryers

       ' and the clothes were hung out to dry in the fresh air and

       ' man hadn't yet walked on the moon


Your Grandfather and I got married first, . . . and then lived
together.

Every family had a father and a mother.

Until I was 25, I called every man older than me, "Sir".
And after I turned 25, I still called policemen and every man with a title, "Sir."

We were before gay-rights, computer- dating, dual careers, daycare centers, and group therapy.

Our lives were governed by the Ten Commandments, good judgment, and common sense.

We were taught to know the difference between right and wrong and to stand up and take responsibility for our actions.

Serving your country was a privilege; living in this country was a bigger privilege.

We thought fast food was what people ate during Lent.

Having a meaningful relationship meant getting along with your cousins.

Draft dodgers were people who closed their front doors when the evening breeze started.

Time-sharing meant time the family spent together in the evenings and weekends -not purchasing condominiums.

We never heard of FM radios, tape decks, CDs, electric typewriters, yogurt, or guys wearing earrings.

We listened to the Big Bands, Jack Benny, and the President's speeches on our radios.

And I don't ever remember any kid blowing his brains out listening to Tommy Dorsey.

If you saw anything with 'Made in Japan ' on it, it was junk.

The term 'making out' referred to how you did on your school exam.

Pizza Hut, McDonald's, and instant coffee were unheard of.

We had 5 &10-cent stores where you could actually buy things for 5 and 10 cents.

Ice-cream cones, phone calls, rides on a streetcar, and a Pepsi were all a nickel.

And if you didn't want to splurge, you could spend your nickel on enough stamps to mail 1 letter and 2 postcards.

You could buy a new Chevy Coupe for $600, . . . but who could afford one? Too bad, because gas was 11 cents a gallon.

In my day:

       ' "grass" was mowed,

       ' "coke" was a cold drink,

       ' "pot" was something your mother cooked in and

       ' "rock music" was your grandmother's lullaby.

       ' "Aids" [aides] were helpers in the Principal's office,

       ' " chip" meant a piece of wood,

       ' "hardware" was found in a hardware store and

       ' "software" wasn't even a word.

And we were the last generation to actually believe that a lady needed a husband to have a baby. No wonder people call us "old and confused" and say there is a generation gap... and how old do you think I am?

I bet you have an old lady in mind...you are in for a shock!

Read on to see -- pretty scary if you think about it and pretty sad at the same time.

This woman would be only 58 years old!

Actually, this list must be a little old, needs updating, because radar was in use right about the time I was born.  But still....

~~Silk

#419 Power Lunch

Late entry - I'm still considering this Monday.

Piper, my financial advisor, had called last week, saying he had some numbers he wanted to go over with me, and suggested we do it over lunch or dinner.  So we had lunch today. 

The original plan was to walk from his office to the Inn just down the street, but instead we drove to a restaurant just across from the Rhinebeck Fairgrounds.  It used to be the Rolling Rock (where we had dinner after the wedding, Daughter.  Remember?)  It's under new management now, has a new name with "O"s and the word "Grill" in it (or something like that).  It's really nice inside, terrific food.  I had Pad Thai noodles with oriental vegetables and shrimp in a spicy coconut sesame sauce.  Yummy.

Well, Piper actually had very few "numbers".  He and the Angel had run my projected tax returns for 2005, 2006, and 2007, to figure out what my likely capital gains exposure would be under various scenarios, selling off stock over three years.  Man, this rebalancing is going to cost me!   But it has to be done, and they are working hard to minimize the pain.  Angel is a tax genius.  But going over those numbers took all of ten minutes.

The next two hours and 50 minutes was ... lunch.

We talked about divorces and real estate reassessments and relationships and communication and compromise and school taxes and depressions and recessions and loneliness and interest rates and relearning how to flirt in your 60s after 30+ years of marriage and the weather and teapots and kings.

I was shocked to find that we had been sitting at the table almost three hours.  I hope he tipped the waitstaff well.

It's really too bad that I have no interest in him as other than an advisor and possible platonic friend.  He'd make a good friend.  He's sweet and earnest, even cherubic, but there's no chemistry.  Not on my part, anyway. 

When I got home, I had to look up some details for the Angel, then I went shopping, dropped off the camera from Rakkasah at CVS (this time I got the prints and CD back in an hour), and then I spent the next four hours putting several hundred photographs into Kodak EasyShare albums.  I'm a little angry with Kodak because the program grabbed every photo it could find on my system, and put them into random "albums", but won't tell me where, and won't allow me to delete the bad shots.  It seems like all I can do is move them (or copies of them?  Gee, I hope not!) into new better-named albums.  Razzelfrats.

Roman was supposed to call me tonight.  He didn't.  I left him a message at 10:30, saying that if he got my message before 11:30, to please call.  He didn't.  I'm a little worried.  If he's ok, and his parents are ok, I may have to kill him.

~~Silk

#418 What I Found on my Walk, and While Cleaning the Bathroom

I went to the deli this afternoon to pick up some fried chicken, and it was so nice out I decided to walk.  With all the rain we'd had lately, I hadn't been out in ages.  Walking from the deli around the mile+ circle is nice because I can visit the deli restroom and get something to eat or drink at the end.

I found several interesting things along the road - four tires, two with rims; one newly dead cat; one brown leather high-top man's shoe in brand new condition, without laces; one long dead opossum; one toppled tree, 4-feet in diameter, that looked like it had just crumpled; the same rubber snake that had startled me a few weeks ago; several huge pieces of bubble wrap; and two tanker trucks rusting into the ground - one for gasoline and one for fuel oil.  The trucks didn't look drivable, but I swear they weren't there last time I walked past that spot.

                             -----------------------------------------------------

I keep telling people how bad my house is right now, and they don't believe me.  I spent more than six hours yesterday and today clearing off the counter in the master bath.  Just the counter top.  Not the drawers, cabinet, or medicine chest.  The counter was covered with bits of jewelry, some in various stages of repair, items like hair clips and bindis, henna kits, perfumes, creams, cold remedies, hair care products.  There were also various medical supplies like surgical masks and gloves, potions and tubes, syringes and pads, things I used with Jay near the end, but which now are useful for various household tasks, but which had never found a proper nook elsewhere in the house.  Heaps of stuff, all of which had to be sorted and stored or discarded. 

Discarding is hard for me, probably because I grew up deprived, but I think I've found a way.  Instead of thinking "What is this good for, what future use might I find for it?", now I think "Would I rather keep this, or have company?"  It makes it real easy to pitch stuff.

Which reminds me - remember when I sorted shoes and discarded more than half?  I also decided then to cycle through the remainder, instead of wearing the same favorites all the time.  The past week, I had been wearing a pair of slingbacks with 1 inch wedge heels.  They were comfortable and looked nice.  As I was putting them away Friday night, I noticed what looked like mud on the heels, so I took them into the bathroom to clean them.  It wasn't mud.  The fronts of the shoes were leather, but it was fake leather on the heels.  What looked like mud was where the fake leather had dried out and cracked and was now peeling off the heels.  Told you most of those shoes were old!  So there's another pair out.  Eventually I'll get down to a core shoe collection that looks good and feels good, and is not too old to hold up to wear.

At the bottom of the pile on the bathroom counter I found five good Turkoman tribal pendants.  I bought them because they are beautiful, I got a real deal on them, and they will increase in value.  Silver with fire-gilding, and studded with carnelian and lapis.  But they are huge pieces (the two largest are 9" wide and 5" deep, with an additional 4" of dangles on the bottom) and even more outrageous than is usual for me.  So I strung the five of them on cords, and I've hung them in a grouping on the bathroom wall, next to the window.  They look stunning!

~~Silk

#417 Fourth Anniversary

It may not have been apparent from the previous entry, but I was a little depressed yesterday afternoon.  Tears were ever near the surface.  I figured it was because today is the fourth anniversary of one of the hardest days of my life, and I can't help feeling like I have ... forgotten, perhaps? over the past few months.  I have begun to move on.  And here I am having a very nice birthday, and he never got to celebrate his fiftieth. 

I thought I would be very unhappy today, so I decided not to go to the Halloween party this evening.  It's a good (annual) party.  I had been looking forward to it for weeks, even bought a special dress and cape for it.  I thought that this year I would be better able to handle the memories, not that it has been any worse than a "quiet day" in previous years, but yesterday things were building up quickly.  I really expected to crash and burn today.

Also several weeks ago I had signed up for a drumming class.  I thought it would be great fun.  I originally got the date wrong for the class, had put it on the calendar for 9/29, and was surprised to find, when the materials arrived, that it was actually scheduled for today, 10/29.  I was tempted to skip it, too, I didn't see how I could possibly enjoy it, but yesterday's companion talked me into going to it anyway.

So I dragged me off to the college, turned at the wrong intersection, went in the wrong entrance, couldn't find the right building, was actually literally told I "couldn't get there from here", finally found the building but couldn't find the room (it was in the building BEHIND the named building, accessible through a breezeway) etc. etc.  Finally found the room, five minutes late, by following the sound of hand drums. 
  
Surprise!  I had fun!   I was actually able to keep up (I have two left hands, can't seem to keep track of what they're doing), and I enjoyed it.

After the class (ended at 4 pm) I went to the Everready Diner (One "r"?  Two "r"s?) for the spinach dip and tea.  I like most of their food, but they've GOT to do something about the noise!  There's a constant roar.  Something strange about the acoustics, too.  There was a woman sitting 20 feet from me speaking to her friends, and I could clearly hear everything she said.  I could clearly hear everything everyone said!  All at once!

There are no secrets at the Everready.

But the spinach dip is good.

I don't remember it being so loud there.  Back when I was taking the EMS classes, we used to meet there to study and quiz each other the evening before tests.  I think that might be impossible now.

I drove through Rhinebeck at 6 pm, and it was pretty amazing.  It seems like every flat surface in town has a line of real carved pumpkins, most with candles, the children's home has hundreds of them lined up on the stone wall, the Beekman Arms's lawn is covered with them.  It was light dusk, and the grins flickered.  The center of town was packed with people, and there was some kind of market going on in the Foster's parking lot.   They were selling already carved pumpkins there - $3 for a small one, $5 for a large.  All different, all unique.  Wow!  That's a deal!

So, I'm feeling pretty good.  A lot better than expected, but not so good that I regret missing the party.  It would have been a very long drive alone, too much time to think.

~~Silk

#416 Birthday Done

Lots of cards and enotes, a romantic dinner and evening, lots of phone messages when I got home this ... ahem ... afternoon.  Daughter says some stinky stuff is waiting for my next visit, and I got a perfect white cotton robe from a friend (the trim on it just happens to match his.  All together now --- Awwww....)  I also treated myself to a bunch of Coldwater Creek travel knits and two gorgeous Egyptian hooded thobes.  This is fun.  Maybe I'll have another birthday next month.

I picked up some cards in the mail yesterday, on the way back from the grocery store, and I opened them at the bottom of the driveway.  One of them was a bit odd - there was a painting of a deer on the front, and inside, the sender had written "All these deer are here to wish you a Happy Birthday."  ALL these deer?  Then I drove up the driveway, and a doe ran across the lawn and right in front of the van.  A second deer ran across a little further up.  When I pulled in front of the house and turned the motor off, a third deer came out of the patch of woods between my house and the neighbor's, and peered curiously at the van as she sauntered across the lawn.

I'm gonna have to call that woman and ask her how she managed to arrange that!
  
~~Silk

#415 Why I Shouldn't Miss Entries

Just a note - a week ago I missed two days of entries in the journal.  And when I got home and was able to check my phone messages, I found this:  "Mommy?  Mommy!  Mommy mommy mommy!  Mom?  Mom? Mommy mommy?  Maaaaaa- meeeee!  Mommy mommy! ..." for several minutes.  So cute.  She missed me. Worried.

I saved the phone message.

~~Silk

#414 Birthday

Today is my 61st birthday.  (My internal age, by the way, stopped at 37.)

A friend will be taking me out tonight to celebrate.  I don't know what he has planned, but he will be picking me up at about 5.  I have to go to the bank, grocery store, and do some shopping across the river before then, so this will be short.  Just wanted to get the day's entry in while I can.  I don't expect to have time later today.

I have made commitments to have the house company-ready by Thanksgiving.  Wish me three weeks of sunshine and a strong back for my birthday present.  I'm gonna need both.

~~Silk

#413 Dinner With Mensa

Dinner last night at Dickens, in Poughkeepsie.  Odd, but ever since I have someone special there to welcome me, to smile at me, I've been enjoying the Mensa dinners and the people much more.  It's very strange.  Maybe it's because with a "protector" beside me I'm more open, or maybe that people are so amused/intrigued/pleased/surprised by seeing us together (he's well liked in the group) that ... that what?  I don't know.  I just feel a lot less guardedness somehow, both coming from me and coming toward me.  It all seems so much more relaxed.   

The Hippie was there last night.  Haven't seen him in ages.  I adore him.  He's such a gentle soul, but there's so much darkness there, too.  I wonder if he still works at the dynamite factory?  I didn't ask.  I should have.  I've lost track of him lately.  I'm losing track of a lot of people.  I should fix that.

~~Silk

#412 Bon Mots 5 of 5

More bits that I saved because they tickled my mind or my funny bone.  If I didn't agree with the sentiment expressed, I at least admired the way it was expressed, and the way it made me mull the topic.  (I am amused that some of the very old political comments still apply.)

Note - all titles are in italics, regardless of whether it is for a book, story, magazine, TV show, whatever.  I don't discriminate.  If something is unattributed, either it is a common saying, or I don't remember where I found it and I apologize to the author.  If it is attributed, it is a direct quote, warts and all.

For Bon Mots 1 of 5 - click here.
For 2 of 5, click here.
For 3 of 5, click here.
For 4 of 5, click here.

                    --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blaise Pascal:  Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.

Love is the only game you are sure to lose by declining to play.

Harvey Korman, on his using Viagra:  It would be like putting a new flagpole on a condemned building.

Huston Smith, on faith:  We may do things we think are wrong, but we cannot believe things we think are false.

There are better ways to get to the top of a tree than by sitting on an acorn.

If we really believed in recycling, we'd sign our Christmas cards in pencil.

Help!  I'm being chased by killer snails!

When your hand is in the tiger's mouth, you have to pet the head.

Reality is merely a consensus.

Jay Kolb, during our very wet trip to England in 1995:  The reason the Brits never had a space program is that they've never seen the sky.

If two people always agree on everything, then one of them is superfluous.

Me:  Most people can work with any insanity, as long as it is consistent and predictable insanity.

The north pole is in Lapland.

Consumotherapy - buying something because it makes you feel good.

Mart Gross, biologist, onwhat behaviors get noted or discounted :  Theory determines what you see.

Dean Koontz, The Face, the hero wants to arrest a motivational speaker,  "on charges of felony cliché and practicing philosophy without an idea".

Dean Koontz, The Face, paraphrased:  When no one ever listens to you, really listens, you can begin to lose the ability to tell whether or not you are really making sense when you talk.

Salada Tea tag line:  The price is what you pay, the value is what you receive.

You can tell you've made God into your own image when He hates the same people you do.

Susan B. Anthony:  I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do, because I notice it always coincides with their own desires.

Among wild dogs, the family that preys together stays together.

Edward R. Morrow:  We must never confuse dissent with disloyalty.

I have the body of a Corvette.  A '66 Corvette.

I'm not fat, I'm just fluffy.

Thomas Edison said he'd never failed; he successfully found 14,000 ways not to make a light bulb.

Gore Vidal:  Half the American people have never read a newspaper.  Half have never voted for president.  One hopes it is the same half.

Folks who rejoice that "The system works!" are usually referring to another's parking ticket, not their own.

Jim Samuels:  The United States is like the guy at the party who gives cocaine to everybody and still nobody likes him.

Gillian Kendall:  Most people who believe in Hell feel sure it is not their final destination. ...  Anyone who believes in hell, I find, also believes in hateful ways of avoiding it.  Fear of hell tends to make women into victims, men into bullies, and everyone into line-toeing robots.

Carl Sagan:  If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.

Isaac Asimov:  The most exciting phrase to hear in science, the one that heralds new discoveries, is not "Eureka!', but "That's funny..."

It's always been and will always be the same in the world - the horse does the work and the coachman is tipped.

Frederick Douglas:  The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they suppress.

Lev Grossman, Time, 3/15/04:  Why is the gift of intelligence so often given to people too stupid to know what to do with it?

Democracy is the worst system in the world - except for the other ones.

Money cannot buy love, but it can put you in a good bargaining position.

In the movie The Third Man, a character observes that thirty years of turmoil in Italy under the Borgias produced Michelangelo, Leonardo DaVinci, and the Renaissance, while five hundred years of peace in Switzerland produced the cuckoo clock.

Ray Wilson, in an Amazon.com reader review of Nickel and Dimed in America:  With the enormous expansion of social programs in the 1960's and 1970's, America waged war on poverty - and poverty won.

Carl Sagan:  It doesn't pay to be so open-minded that your brains fall out.

Me:  We cannot get rid of terrorism by getting rid of terrorists.  We must get rid of the conditions that create terrorists.

Michael Hachulski:  If your customs allow you to kill on the basis of religious, racial, material, political, or ideological differences, then you are living in a barbarian society, and you are a barbarian.   ...[T]hose who engage in violence even to spread seemingly well intentioned political ideologies are barbarians.

Crystal Eastman:  A good deal of tyranny goes by the name of protection.

Sharon Stone: Women might be able to fake orgasms. But men can fake whole relationships.

Steve Jobs:  My girlfriend always laughs during sex---no matter what she's reading.

Jack Nicholson:  My mother never saw the irony in calling me a son-of-a-bitch.

Barbara Bush (Former US First Lady):   Clinton lied. A man might forget where he parks or where he lives, but he never forgets oral sex, no matter how bad it is.

Laurens van der Post:  Human beings are never more frightening than when they are convinced beyond doubt that they are right.

~~Silk

Links in this entry:
http://journals.aol.com/jaykolb/Moraine/entries/1711
http://journals.aol.com/jaykolb/Moraine/entries/1712
http://journals.aol.com/jaykolb/Moraine/entries/1719
http://journals.aol.com/jaykolb/Moraine/entries/1737

#411 Coffee Beans or Fava Beans?

A test for Hallowe'en:  http://www.malevole.com/mv/misc/killerquiz/   Can you tell the coders from the killers?  You will be shown a series of ten photographs.  Identify each person as either the inventor of a programming language, or a serial killer.  You'll get your score at  the end.  If you get 5 or fewer correct, don't open your door to trick-or-treaters!  (I got 8 correct - I had one of each wrong.)

PS - Correction:  My new sofa is circa 1860.  Wow.  Civil War era.  Cool.

~~Silk

#410 Dragging Tail.

I got next to no sleep Wednesday or Thursday nights, and Friday wasn't enough to catch up.  Then there was the outing last night, where I got to bed about 6:30 am.  I figured I could sleep into the day today and finally make up for my dissolute recent past.

I forgot something important.

There was an auction last night.  I had gone to the preview Friday evening, and had left absentee bids on a few items.  If an absentee bid actually wins anything, the auctioneer will call Sunday morning, and then you have to go to the auction house and pay for and pick up your items by noon.

I won some stuff.  Including an absolutely gorgeous 1880 triple-back carved walnut cameo back sofa, to replace the reproduction cameo sofa in my livingroom.  Gazooks!  I had placed a low bid with no hope of actually winning it! 

And a big box of spectacular huge geodes.  (Christmas presents!)

So bright and early, at 8 am, George called with the good news.  Ack!  What do I do now?  "Will the settee fit in my van?"  "Probably not.  How 'bout we have Don deliver it."  "Ok.  Sounds good."

Get up.  Wash.  Dress, sort of.  Wait for Don to call.

Don called just before 10 am.  On the way.  Truck arrives.  Look in back.  "Where's MY sofa?"  "Um, this one isn't yours?"  "No, that's not the one I bid on.  Mine is the cameo with all the wonderful carved walnut."  "Oh.  Yeah.  We got the wrong item number.  We'll go back and get yours."

Wait for Don to return.

The new sofa was delivered to the basement (pending removal of the other sofa) just before 11 am.  By then I was wide awake, and there was no hope of resuming my beauty rest - not for a while, anyway. 

At 3 pm my eyes were blurring, so I lay down for maybe a nap.  At 3:30 pm I hear the sounds of a vehicle in the driveway.  Doorbell.  Razzelfrats!  Local elections soon.  Two hopeful candidates handing out material.  End of nap.

Sigh.

This late in the day I'd better just try to stay awake until night, or I'll be really messed up tomorrow.  You know, one of those things where you fall asleep at 5 pm and  wake at 5 am and can't figure out whether it's morning or evening or what day it is and the cat insists it's dinnertime and you take her word for it, and then BOTH of you are off schedule.

I guess I'm just having too much fun lately.

~~Silk

#409 The Bachelorette Bash (or, The Pixie's Naughty Night Out)

I went to The Pixie's bachelorette party this evening.  Just got home - at 4:05 am.  It's amazing how fast you can get from New Paltz to Kingston on the Thruway at 85-90 mph!  (Very uncharacteristic for me, I rarely speed, but there was no other traffic.)

We started with dinner.  There was the bride, the bridesmaids, and me.  And the groom, the Dark Prince.  He was defensive about his being there, but what the hey, he has to eat, too, I guess.

Then we went back to their apartment so folks could change.  The Dark Prince is an artist, and there were several of his paintings on the walls.  Many were of well-endowed semi-nudes.   I now know what his initial attraction to The Pixie was!  Woohoo!

We were going to a dance club, and having not been to anything like that in decades, I had asked Daughter what I should wear.  She said to wear outrageous jewelry (there's that phrase again - do I have a rep for outrageous jewelry?), black clothing rather than white, and to be sure to wear a black bra so it wouldn't show through in blacklight.  Well, my current favorite bras don't come in black.  Besides, they are a marvel of ingenuity and engineering, so if it did show through, people could just admire its construction.  So there.  (Disappointingly, it didn't.)

The Pixie and one of her attendants changed into Fairy costumes, complete with wings.  The Gypsy wore gypsy bellydance regalia.  Boy, did I feel stogy in my black lycra slacks and sleeveless turtleneck.  If I had known, I would have worn the coin dress I bought last weekend at Rakkasah!  It's transparent black gauze with embroidery and coins all down the front and long pointed sleeves.

So off we went, at about 11 pm,  to what advertises itself as the largest dance club in the county.  I don't know about largest, but it was certainly the loudest!   About mid-evening I stuffed bits of napkin in my ears. 

The Gypsy danced a lot.  I admire her stamina.  The Pixie taught me how to do a 3/4 shimmy. 

We seemed to have found the gay and tranny center of the county - I think they might have outnumbered the straights.  One woman really went after The Gypsy big time.  (I remember that action from drunken businessmen in Chicago in the '70s - it was exactly the same.)  The dancing Gypsy was polite until the woman got much too free with her hands.  It was so loud there that you couldn't hear anyone unless they got right up close and shouted in your ear, so there was a lot of pantomime.  I about cracked up when I saw Gypsy holding out her left hand to the woman and pointing rather violently at the ring on her third finger.  The woman then moved on to The Pixie.  Who was quickly defended by a closing circle of attendants.  Like a herd of musk oxen defending the calves.

I had thought I wouldn't be able to stay long because of the noise and activity (I don't like crowds), but watching the people and the interactions was so much fun, I (and the napkins waving from my ears) helped the girls to close the place down.  The Gypsy was concerned about my driving home (the Dark Prince came at a call to take everyone else home) because she noticed I'd had a drink in my hand all evening.  What she didn't know is that it was the same drink all evening.  I just kept adding water to it.

I had wanted to go around and tell people it was The Pixie's bachelorette party, and have them all kiss her on the cheek and wish her happiness, but you can't tell the sane people from the weirdos until AFTER they've spilled their drink, or slobbered, all down your front (and The Pixie had a LOT of exposed frontage) so I didn't.

Now I wish I had.

Ah well.  An experience.  I do hope The Pixie enjoyed it.
 
~~Silk

#408 My Goodness, I'm SO busy!

Another quick entry.  The Wednesday dinner extended into late Friday afternoon, in bits and pieces.  It was nice to spend so much time together.  Fears have been allayed, and although there have been no commitments in the usual sense, an understanding of sorts has been reached.  I am content.  So, Daughter, you can relax. 

I have to run now to get dressed for a friend's bachelorette party.

~~Silk

#407 Quick Update

I have to leave here in two hours to meet a friend near Poughkeepsie, so this is a quick entry, "I'm alive".  Daughter, if you are reading this before 9 pm, I intend to call you about 9 this evening - within a half hour or so either way, anyway.

No rain so far today - hope it stays that way! 

~~Silk

#406 Bon Mots 4 of 5

More bits that I saved because they tickled my mind or my funny bone.  If I didn't agree with the sentiment expressed, I at least admired the way it was expressed, and the way it made me mull the topic.  (I am amused that some of the very old political comments still apply.)

Note - all titles are in italics, regardless of whether it is for a book, story, magazine, TV show, whatever.  I don't discriminate.  If something is unattributed, either it is a common saying, or I don't remember where I found it and I apologize to the author.  If it is attributed, it is a direct quote, warts and all.

For Bon Mots 1 of 5 - click here.
For 2 of 5, click here.
For 3 of 5, click here.

                    --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's impossible to learn what you think you already know.

Howard A. Brown, letter to US News & World Reports, 12/27/99, paraphrased:  It's easier to make a smart gun than a smart person.

Why aren't southern schools teaching the difference between "when" and "whenever"?  "Ever" and "every"?  How do they understand each other?

Washington DC is the city of southern efficiency and northern hospitality.

Me:  Nerds make the best lovers.  They are intelligent, honest, faithful, and best of all, grateful.

Abigail VanBuren:  A church is not a museum for saints - it's a hospital for sinners.

Fenton Johnson, 1996:  The mystery of love and life and death is really grander and more glorious than human beings can grasp, much less legislate.

Stephen Jay Gould:  Competent leaders have always understood the crucial difference between public proclamations and private bargains.

Jewish Proverb:  A ditch can't be filled with dirt from its sides.

Jewish Proverb:  A guest for a while sees a mile.

Cats:  With cats, one rule is true.  Don't speak until you're spoken to.

Scott Turow, Burden of Proof, Sandy's daughters describe his love life as:  a tom-tom network of females wailing over his shortcomings late into the night.

Me:  It's not enough to come up with a good idea; you have to come up with the good idea at the right time.  Many people with a good idea present it too soon, before anyone is ready to accept it, and then drop the idea when they meet resistance.  When the world is ready, someone else puts forth the same idea and gets all the credit.  (Worse, nobody will remember that you had it first.)

Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment.

Harold Nickel, Mensa Bulletin, May 2000:  People do not do things for logical reasons, people find logical reasons to do things they want, and the more intelligent the people, the better the reasons they come up with.

L. P. Hartley:  The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.

Derrick Jensen, The Sun, July 2000:  A friend of mine says that science is an even better means of control than Christianity, because if you don't believe in Christianity, you're simply doomed to burn in a hell you don't think exists, whereas if you don't believe in science, you're presumed to be stupid.

Life is extinct on other planets because their scientists were more advanced than ours.

If you want to be seen, stand up.  If you want to be heard, speak up.  If you want to be appreciated, shut up.

When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.  [I have no attribution for this, but the application is so broad, it must be Chinese.]

Jean-Pierre Deriaud, on French laws:  It is forbidden, but possible.

Javier Pascual Salcedo:  Bureaucracy is the art of making the possible impossible.

Denis Johnson, "The Small Boy's Unit", Harper's, Oct. 2000, on the meaning of "everything is arranged" in Africa:  Everything is arranged doesn't mean you should expect to get anywhere or accomplish anything.  In fact for sanity's sake these two ideas have to be banished.  Everything is arranged means that all is complete, the great plan of the universe is unfolding before our eyes.  So eat, drink, sleep.  Everything is arranged.

When the elephants dance, the mice get trampled.

Ghandi:  You must be the change you wish to see in the world.

A man's perception is his reality.

One of the saddest things to happen was the optioning of morality by religion.

Wang Yang Ming:  To know and not to do is not to know.

We can never predict the outcome of our actions, which is why every action must be acceptable in itself, and not as part of a stratagem.

It is better to be wanted by the police than not wanted at all.

Alan Greenspan, to Congress:  I know you believe you understand what you think I said, but I am not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.

Peter Ho Davies:  Stories are simple sequences of events, plots are about causes, motivation ..., what stories mean.  ...life is all stories, and fiction is all plots.....

Flip Wilson, as Geraldine:  You don't have to be a thing of beauty to be a joy forever.

A Chorus Line:  I thought about committing suicide, but in Buffalo, suicide is redundant.

Barbara Kingsolver's character Adah in The Poisonwood Bible points out that God created vermin and microbes as well as humans, and "He's not necessarily rooting for just the humans."

~~Silk
Links in this entry:
http://journals.aol.com/jaykolb/Moraine/entries/1711
http://journals.aol.com/jaykolb/Moraine/entries/1712
http://journals.aol.com/jaykolb/Moraine/entries/1719

#405 Photos and an Invitation or Two

I dropped off five disposable cameras at the CVS this afternoon, containing photos from New Orleans (pre-Katrina), Hawaii, Daughter's party this past weekend, and Rakkasah.  Naturally, after I got home from CVS, I found the sixth camera. 

The clerk asked me if I wanted "1-hour" or "overnight" processing.  I asked for overnight, since I didn't intend to return before tomorrow, and she told me they'd be ready Friday afternoon.  Today is Tuesday.  That's three days.  So I asked for one hour, but I wouldn't be able to pick them up until tomorrow.  She said that's ok, because they wouldn't be ready until tomorrow about 4 pm.  That's 26 hours.  Duh?  That's not how I define "1-hour" and "overnight"!

I was also surprised that the 26-hour "1-hour" processing is cheaper than the three-day "overnight".

The Pixie and the DarkPrince are getting married November 19.  The Gypsy is in the wedding party.  I received an email invitation - the paper invitation is in the mail.  That's going to be a fun wedding.  I'm happy for them.  She said that she had to wait to find out how many family were or were not coming before she could invite the people she really wanted there, so that's why it's so late.  I don't mind.

Piper called today.  He's got some more numbers to go over with me, and wants to do it over lunch or preferably dinner.  In a fit of pique (at someone else, not him) I said ok.  He'll call next Monday or Tuesday to set the time and place.  This could get interesting.

Now I'm off to throw some more junk out the back door.
 
~~Silk

#404 Google Name Game

Do a Google search on "[insert your first name] is".  It must be in quotes.   I did my first name and got:

Silk is loving, caring and loves children dearly
Silk is very proud
Silk is very well qualified
Silk is committed to the core values
Silk is not only a Firefighter, but a very knowledgeable medic
Silk is well qualified, as a Certified Hypnotist
Silk is on the Board of Advisors of Fitness and Vitality magazines
Silk is recognized as a leading authority on fitness-related information
Silk: Is it?
Silk is the erotic and lethal female 
Silk is a real "teacher's" teacher
Silk is immoral and treacherous
Silk is, like all femme fatales, beautiful and alluring
Silk is sympathetic and appreciative
Silk is often aware of people's secret motives
Silk is like a sponge waiting for water everywhere she looks
Silk is now adventuring into more high-end materials
Silk is so seductively alluring that men would risk anything
Silk is the success coach
Silk is an entrepreneur at heart
Silk is a great source of knowledge
Silk is ready to crawl under the table and hide
Silk is killed at the end of the movie

It would appear that others with my given name tend to be accomplished, dependable, alluring, and seductive.  And dead.

So then of course I had to do Daughter.  I got:

Daughter is up on crutches now
Daughter is currently editing fifty short stories
Daughter is the one with the muscles
Daughter is located only a few minutes from all
Daughter is very prevalent
Daughter is a delightful historical romance
Daughter is ... 18
Daughter is "turning Japanese"
Daughter is a gifted vocalist
Daughter is learning to communicate her feelings and direct her anger and/or jealousy
Daughter is in a bind
Daughter is a role model
Daughter is more fragile than others
Daughter is annoying and not a help
Daughter is my wife
Daughter is skilled in various vibrational healing methods
Daughter is well known for her tireless work
Daughter is organizing a charity
Daughter is a short hairless undershrub
The fat chick is stupid; Daughter is not.
Daughter is an experienced trades woman
Daughter is now dating
Daughter is an avid adventure traveller
Daughter is said to be stained with the blood of clan wars
Daughter is thought to bring rain
Daughter is settled into the hole
Daughter is awesome!
Daughter is wholly unique
Daughter is mostly at a plateau now

People with Daughter's name apparently tend to be strong, active, passionate, and multifacited.

Ok, now I can't resist checking out the latest candidate for my affections:

He is the protagonist
He is a layer
He is a fun loving, easy going guy, with a love for climbing in the pine trees with his squirrel friends
He is losing it
He is responsible
He is at least 104
He is dazzled by one amazing sight after another
He is who he says he is
He is busy preparing for winter
He is one of those movies where nobody is sure who is on their side
He is okay
He is very interested and fascinated
He is talking
He is a big fan of dance music
He is invited to play brass tuba
He is a true genius
He is brilliant
He is currently writing songs
He is ultimately so desperate
He is my darling
He is their darling
He is noncommittal
He is up to his old two-timing tricks again

Hmmm.  People with this name are mostly interesting, fascinating, fun, and ultimately not trustworthy.   Sounds about right....

Cool.

~~Silk

 

#403 Weekend - D-B'day & Rakkasah

Just a quick entry to let Daughter and everyone else know I survived the weekend, and made it home.

THE SUN CAME OUT!!!  It was a nice day Saturday for Daughter's surprise birthday party, and dry but windy for Sunday at Rakkasah.  My spirits were higher than they've been in weeks (maybe even months), and I enjoyed the events, the people, and myself thoroughly.

More later - maybe.  Right now, me so very tired little girl.  Good night.
~~Silk

#402 Nice Male Mail

I meant to mention in the previous entry another reason for my good mood.  When I was in Hawaii, although there were no shipmates from anywhere near my class on the trip, there was a representative from the college alumni association who was at least near my age. 

The guy who was supposed to go on the trip from my school had to cancel at the last minute because his wife was ill, so he had given the trip to a recently divorced professor who had just retired.  Let's call him Ted. 

Ted and I were about the only people on the trip who were alone, so we often sat together on the tour buses.  I was determined to enjoy myself, but Ted was just so very sad, morose.  Like he had left the job he loved to be with his family but his family had left him, and there was nothing left to live for.  I felt sorry for him.   

He took a lot of photographs, for the alumni newsletter, he said.  He refused, however, to be photographed.  I also refused - I don't look good in still pictures - never have.  He pushed, so I made a deal with him.  We'd have our picture taken together, "I will if you will".  He declared that the picture would definitely be in the newsletter.

So, I've been watching.  No communications from the college so far have even mentioned the alumni trip, let alone included any pictures.  I'm not sure what newsletter he was talking about.

Today in the mail I found a large envelope from him, containing a copy of  the photo.  We are standing near the visitor's center at Haleakala.  He has his arm around me and I'm leaning into him, and wonder of all wonders, he is smiling.  The only smile I'd ever seen on him.

Isn't that sweet? 

~~Silk

#401 Feelin' Better

I got the windshield wiper fixed.  Turns out it was pretty simple. 

It's still raining (seven days straight now, and the three day forecast is still showing rain), so I set out for the Chrysler dealership with the right wiper raised and waving in the air, like a conductor's baton.  Naturally, it slammed back down the first time I got some speed on, but luckily it didn't scratch.

The service guy just tightened the ... nut?  bolt?  whatever ... at the base of the wipers, where they attached to the body, and that fixed it.  He also replaced the broken wiper, so I'm all set.  Tightening the dohickeys also fixed the other problem I had, which was that the intermittent setting was, uh, intermittent.  Now that works just fine, too.

Went to the bank and got the cash I'll need for the weekend (raided the money market account), and to the deli for a BLT for lunch.  They make a really good BLT, like they've got to get rid of a load of bacon and mayo before the revenuers catch them.

Lots of stuff to do yet.  I have to do some laundry and maybe some hemming if I want to wear anything decent this weekend, and I want to clear out some more from the basement to make room for all the good stuff I packed up from upstairs - don't want to lose the momentum I'd gained earlier in the week.  And I have accepted a dinner invitation, which I hope won't take up too much of the evening, but I expect to be working late in the basement.  Suddenly I have all kinds of energy!

I want to whip the house into shape for company.  I'm ready for company, finally.  The house isn't. 

~~Silk

#400 Wednesday

I didn't sleep at all last night.  I went to bed at about midnight, and worked on some crosswords and some logic puzzles, and then tried to go to sleep, but my mind was spinning.  Read a book.  More crosswords.  Tried sleep again.  No good.  I finally fell asleep at 9 am, and was awakened by a phone call at 1 pm.

I hate rain.  It has been raining since last Friday, and the forecast for the next three days says more rain.  Rain makes me sad.  When it rains is when I need most to be held. 

The windshield wiper on the van broke again, and I can't use the wipers until I get it fixed or I'll scratch up the windshield, and so I can't go anywhere to get it fixed until it stops raining.  Unless I drive with the broken one sticking up in the air and hope it doesn't flop back down.  If it's still raining tomorrow, I'll have to do that, because I have to drive to New Jersey on Friday, and there are things I have to do before I leave.

Sigh.

Sometimes I just want to cry.  Last night when I couldn't sleep I twice tried crying, thinking maybe if I got all my frustrations out I could sleep, but it didn't do any good.  I couldn't even get a good cry going.  There's too much anger in there to cry.  I really want to go out there and kick some ass. 

Ok, for some reason that worked.  Now I'm crying. 

~~Silk

#399 Tuesday

Just in case anyone wondered, the letter in the previous entry was NOT written by my friend the pastor.  I'm sorry if anyone got that impression.  It's just one of those emails that shows up from nowhere and gets passed around.  Distribution list fodder.  I've seen it before, I'm sure I'll see it again.  What was different this time is that my friend asked me for my opinion.  On a rainy day.  Poor him.   All three texts are actual emails passed between him and me, except that, of course, I removed all identifying information.

Got nothing done today, spent most of the day on the phone, seems like, four pleasant conversations with friends and family.  And now to bed.

~~Silk

#398 Comeback

I might make a few enemies with this entry, but here goes anyway.

I received the following email from an old friend, a Methodist minister, who asked me what I thought of the comeback.  He wanted "a different perspective".

Subject: Love this comeback...

One lady tells this story...

One of my sons serves in the military. He is still stateside, here in California. He called me yesterday to let me know how warm and welcoming people were to him and his troops, everywhere he goes, telling me how people shake their hands, and thank them for being willing to serve, and fight, for not only our own freedoms but so that others may have them also.

But he also told me about an incident in the grocery store he stopped at yesterday, on his way home from the base. He said that ahead of several people in front of him stood a woman dressed in a burkha. He said when she got to the cashier she loudly remarked about the U.S. flag lapel pin the cashier wore on her smock. The cashier reached up and touched the pin and said proudly," Yes, I always wear it and probably always will."

The woman in the burkha then asked the cashier when she was going to stop bombing her countrymen, explaining that she was Iraqi. A gentleman standing behind my son stepped forward, putting his arm around my son's shoulders, and nodding towards my son, said in a calm and gentle voice to the Iraqi woman: "Lady, hundreds of thousands of men and women like this young man have fought and died so that YOU could stand here in MY country and accuse a check-out cashier of bombing YOUR countrymen. It is my belief that had you been this outspoken in YOUR own country, we wouldn’t need to be there today. But, hey, if you have now learned how to speak out so loudly and clearly, I'll gladly buy you a ticket and pay your way back to Iraq so you can straighten out the mess in YOUR country that you are obviously here in MY country to avoid."

Everyone within hearing distance cheered!

IF YOU AGREE ...
Pass this on to all your proud American friends.
I just did

He should have known better than to ask me.  This was my response to him:

Oooo.  You just hit a hornet's nest.  I have mixed feelings about this (especially after having read Reading Lolita in Tehran, by Azar Nafisi ).
 
Let me put it this way:  I own a house and land, much of which is woods.  There are several large old locust and wild cherry trees at the edge of the surrounding woods that lean out toward and over my house.  Occasionally a tree falls.  So far none have hit my house, but I worry that someday one might.  But in general, my yard looks nice and works for me.  I just need to be careful.  I'm willing to take my chances.
 
One morning I wake to find a horde of strangers in my yard, cutting down the trees surrounding the house.  They tell me they are here to help me.  They stomp all over my flower beds.  They cut down even the small decorative apple trees.  They chopped up my beloved mulberry and pear trees.  They leave most branches and trunks where they fall.  At first I think, ok, they are helping to save my house, thank you, go away now. 
 
But, all those trees they had cut down were acting as windbreaks for the trees behind them.  The decaying roots of the dead stumps are loosening the soil as they decompose.  Termites have moved in and are beginning to eye my house.  The next rank of trees begin to lean and fall.  My house gets hit by trees that had not been a threat before.  They have taken out my telephone line and blocked my driveway.   
 
The horde of lumberjacks descends again.  They cut more trees.  I am losing my woods.  They are proud of the way they are helping me.  They tell me I should be grateful for the sacrifice of those lumberjacks on whom trees have fallen.
 
You want me to be grateful to them? 
 
Hey, they were my trees!  It was my danger, to accept or reject as I saw fit.  I never asked for their "help".  I never asked any of them to "sacrifice" for my house.  It might have been different if I had tried to get rid of the leaning trees myself, and they arrived to help me in my struggle, but that's not how it went!  I had no say.  The leaning trees troubled me, but they were my leaning trees!  It was my decision whether to live with the situation or not.
 
I have every right to blame them for the mess in my yard!
 
I have every right to ask them when they are going to stop cutting down my trees and let me decide what to do next with my own yard. 
 
And don't you dare use those lumberjacks who died under falling trees to try to make me feel guilty!  How arrogant is that!?  How condescending?

So go back now and reread the original note.  The woman in the burka (and I suspect it was a hijab and jilbab, without an actual burqa) perhaps did not express her sentiments well (and I also suspect this story is apocryphal anyway), but I find the lack of sensitivity on the part of the Americans just plain embarrassing.

Blame it on the rain.

~~Silk

Update 5:57 pm, return email from my friend:

VERY GOOD analogy!  

I find BOTH perspectives have their value ... and laid side by side, they provide the real challenge of this Current Ignorance (stolen from W.Churchill).  

Why can't brothers and sisters live peacably together? This issue goes clear back to Cain & Able.  

THANKS for your profound response.  

I got me some neat friends, eh?  I had been a little afraid he might be offended. 

~~Silk