Monthly Archives: July 2011

Allen Wrench

I know how to use one.  My sister struggled with the TV stand until I got there.  After I did, she was slow and almost useless.

I have learned a few things living out here in the wild that she hasn’t, having lived with the parents all these years.

Of course, I set myself back by losing my phone and having to meet them half way.

Tammy got out again and Murphy didn’t.  I think Tammy’s cancer may have made her wild again.  There is no other reason.   I can’t figure out how she gets out.

Leadership

With the Anthony verdict we heard a lot.

With the debt crisis: crickets.

It’s Just Hot

There is nothing I can do right now but protect the plants I have in the ground.  This drought is hard.  I can imagine what it must be like in the horror that is east Africa at this point.

I admire PBS for not just focusing on the debt ceiling debate.

One of my old students from Mali stopped by today.  I encouraged her to come back to our program.  I hope she does.

I heard today about people who are willing to go into nuclear disasters like what is happening in Japan.

I think that there are bigger problems in the world than just voting to raise the debt ceiling.

What a nothing burger to get all knotted about.  What a waste of time that the Teabaggers have caused.  They are a loud minority and they don’t even have a clear point, but to destroy this nation simply because there is a half black man in office.

If You are Standing Still, You Get Outrun by Events

If her “blood libel” were not enough, then this vainglorious movie should take the cake.

What happened in Norway is not going to go away.

Michael Berry and Kevin Whited are just as guilty of racial fascism.  This guy is their guy.

What Happened in Norway

In all honesty, I thought it was the Kurds, given the PKK.

However, I agree with others on the intertubes that the jumping to conclusions was expected, even known immediately.  I followed a few of them and check my regulars for any posts.

Basically this is what happens:  a)horrible event  b) wingnuts post graphic pictures accusing Muslims c) wingnuts turn out to be wrong.

They don’t care about the dead.  They just want their bloody pictures and an opportunity to condemn an entire faith.

All of them have a dog in this hunt.  It’s a battle of religions.

We would all be better off without any religion.  The competition is killing all of us.

I’ve Been Making Dog Biscuits

Tonight’s is my third or forth batch.  I haven’t yet figured out if it is cost effective, but I will.  One unquantifiable factor is Dora’s enthusiasm while I am putting everything together.  I gave her a little brown sugar, and she scarfed up anything that fell on the floor.

I talked her through the whole thing, too, which I think helps with  her language issues.  (Dora is not a native English speaker.)

The cookies are in the oven now, and Dora is trying to stay awake, sprawled in the middle of the living room floor.   Little does she know that they will have to cool overnight, but I will give her a couple in the morning.  I didn’t have an egg to wash them tonight, but I think they will be ok.

The recipe is here.

Dora

She’s sleeping now.

http://www.wunderground.com/tropical/tracking/ep201104.html

I Should Have Taken Pictures

I made a little dinner tonight.  It was a variant of a recipe that is in The Eating Well New Favorites Cookbook.

My little fingerling eggplants had fruits, so I made an open faced pseudo-Eastern Europen thingy.

First, I picked the eggplant.  This was problematic because the oks (outside kittens) thought it was dinner time.  It wasn’t.   Poor babies are so hot, but they do have the haven of the aquagarage and the space under the house for relief.

Then I picked a few little cherry tomatoes, a few plum tomatoes, and some peppers.

I went back out and fed the OKs and picked off some oregano.

I chopped up the eggplant and salted it in a colander and let it sweat out.

In a small bowl, I crushed the feta cheese, added the fresh oregano and some olive oil and lemon juice.  That all went in the fridge.

I chopped the tomatoes and peppers.

After an hour, I rinsed the salt off the eggplant and squeezed out the moister.  I sauteed the fresh peppers in olive oil, then added the eggplant and tomatoes.  I only had the heat on  for a few minutes.

I put the wokked stuff in the fridge.

To serve, I put the feta mix on a slice of bread then dribbled the eggplant mix on top.

Things I bought:

olive oil, bread, feta, lemon juice

Things from the garden:

eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, oregano

That looks like balance.

There Are No Poor People Here

Let’s  say you live in an apartment where they have central air, is that common or uncommon?  Depending on where you live, that might make or break a rental deal.

According to the Heritage Foundation, having A/C means you are fake poor.  Given that it is impossible to live in certain parts without A/C, and that some do live that way, it doesn’t deter the Heritage types nor talk radio types from harping on the poor.

The Heritage’s con conclusions are questionable at best.  I looked at the raw material and saw no income means testing.

The take away is that if poor people somehow live in an apartment with A/C, access to a washer and dryer, and perhaps bought a used phone or playstation — or better yet, had it given to them via CHARITY, they are not really poor.and live in your car.  No wait, you have to sell your car.  You have to be Africa poor, you know what I mean, no utilities living in a hut in the desert poor to be poor in AMERICA.

To recap, Heritage took some numbers that I would beg you to come to the same realization from, to whack the truly poor in our nation.  Oh and those who advocate for them

Oh and before you can claim to be poor you have to sell everything you have.

My Niece is One Smart Cookie

There was a birthday party today.  It was the last of the family oriented parties clearly.  My youngest niece now has age group appropriate friends and it’s not just all of us old people giving her gifts and her posing with them for the camera.  She has school friends now, and lots of cousins who are here local.  My poor mom and sister are not taking it well.

The youngest niece ran and played at the gymnasium where the party was held, totally ignoring mom completely and my sister for the most part.  These public parties have their own rhythm.  The young adults who lead them are mostly ok, some even good.  Today there was one manic guy who almost planted his foot in my middle niece’s face and then complain later when she did a cartwheel and her feet came far less close to planting him than hers had earlier.

But never fear.  That little girl is very strong and he did not get the best of her.  It seems that when I thought she was just get some air she was actually reading.  And then my little 9 year old niece had the chutzpah to ask one of the grown men a question.   She read, “Life Guards on Duty” and she asked the nitwit who had chastised her about her cartwheel and his face a simple question:  was this a pool?

She swims competitively and knows her way around a pool.  She knew.  The simpleton said “yeah” at first, then said “I’m kidding.”

She told me all of this while the party was winding down.  All of them were tired — flushed long before the crying about get a cone from the cake — another story in and of itself.

I had asked her about her birthday and she was sad that even thought her birthday was in the summer, her class had not recognized it and wouldn’t either in the fall.  I told her that when she was a teenager, she would not regret it.  Then the oldest niece came over and said she had a test on her birthday, and I took the advantage to say that look having a birthday in summer is a good thing looking forward.  We then talked a bit about how summer school in the early years is different from college, which lead me to ask her what she wanted to do.

This is so critical.

This one.  This girl has imagination.  I want to nurture it.  She loves the Diary of a Whimpy Kid stuff, and I have encouraged her to write.  She is very funny.  While shopping for the little one at the bookstore, I was thinking of the middle one.  I asked if she would like a book with only lines.  She said it would be  ok. And then she said she was writing a story.  I asked her if she would like a book with lines and a lock with a key.  EYES LIGHT UP.  YES is the answer.  When I say ok, that’s your birthday, she complains that she has lost her train of thought.

I suggest the story she is writing.  Then it all flows.  She tells me the plot and the characters.  I ask if she will be illustrating it, then tell her how to do the by-line.  She’s not sure about the dad’s name, and I give her suggestions.

This girl is a writer.

I will do everything I can to encourage her.

She had imagination.  She has an idea.  She’s always had ideas.  My mom and sister and everyone else thinks she is a liar because of the stories she tells.

She’s not.  She notices things and is not afraid to say something.

The place we were at had a lot of deep places filled with spongy things for kids to bounce or fall into.  The same perceptive niece felt something buckle underneath her.  The ahh moment came when she told me and Granny about her conversation with the adults running the show.  She had figured it out.

And now the gift I will give this beautiful mind is blank paper with a key.  And more blank paper so perhaps she and I cane make her own book.  I will show her Roberto’s book and then it starts.