I’m mostly posting a note here for ease of recordkeeping for Blog365, but I also know a fair number of people who suffer from migraines or other chronic illnesses and probably don’t read Fibrant Living. Today’s post is over there, and has a pointer to a good resource for anyone who has headaches.
I’ve been doing so much reading because I’ve been sick and unable to do much else. We did get the girl to her doctor, so we know there’s no strep around here. The doctor wouldn’t rule out mono, but wouldn’t test for it either. (I don’t really like this woman, and we usually try to go when the nicer physician is there.) She said that since they don’t do anything but treat the symptoms if it is mono, and the contagion period would have been 60-90 days ago, she doesn’t see any reason to run a test.
So, um, I tried to read this. I really did. I don’t know if it’s “paranormal romance overload” or the fact that I’d just finished reading material from two incredibly good writers (Sarah Monette and Elizabeth Bear), but I had no patience for the fluff. Overall, I gave the book a 2/10.
i did get through “The Exterminator’s Daughter” Meg Cabot. I don’t intend to read anything else by her. Yes, it was better than oral surgery, but I wish I’d spent the time cleaning the sink or something. To her credit, I did have a “laugh out loud” moment early on, when she used the phrase “tramp stamp.” I hadn’t heard that before, and I love it (although “arse antlers” is probably still my favorite).
I’m all infatuated with yet another author, my friends, so I must warn you that you’ll be reading much more about Elizabeth Bear here in coming weeks.
New Amsterdam is an anthology of connected stories twined around two main characters. “The Great Detective” is vampire Sebastien de Ulloa. Lady Abigail Irene Garrett is a forensic sorceror, Detective Crown Investigator in His Majesty’s Service in the colony of New Amsterdam. At the beginning of the 20th century, North America is still a patchwork of European colonies, with all the attendant political intrigue and military tension.
This not-flu or whatever is exceedingly tiresome. I should think it would be enough to live with the day to day stuff, let alone put up with this. Then again, nobody has ever claimed in my hearing that the world is fair.
I have no idea why the main article was linked from ZDNet, but doesn’t this cheddar and apple sandwich seem yummy? I wonder how it would be with ham? I used to have a really good recipe for a sausage and apples dish, but I know I haven’t cooked it in the last decade. Maybe I could dig it out of my ancient recipe box? There are few ways to go wrong with cooked apples, as far as I can tell.
Happy Valentine’s Day to all, whether you’re part of a couple (triad, quad, etc.) or not 🙂
Sambear brought home truffles and flowers! And iTunesiness! And then he went and cooked delicious steaks for dinner!
My baby girl’s sweetie has mono. Ewww. They had to put off their special dinner tonight ’til after he’s feeling better. Hopefully he’ll get over it more easily than she did a few years back! Since she and I have had some sort of flu-thing that we caught from him, I know the poor guy is having rotten luck. Flu, then mono? Ick!
I spent a ridiculous amount of time looking at the photos Charlie over at The Daily Coyote. I don’t think it would have occurred to me to call a coyote “cute,” until I saw this. He’s a very well-behaved coyote, raised with lots of help from a cat. ‘d love to show you one of Charlie’s photos here, but I don’t want violate his Mom’s copyright. Go look!
In the not-fun part of the world, the CDC says that at least 82 kids have died in the US playing “the choking game.” I will admit that I initially assumed they were talking about accidents involving autoerotic asphyxiation, but those are actually counted separately. Whodathunkit?
The players are mostly athletes and well-behaved kids who want to get a “high” feeling without drugs or alcohol. Those who have died were all playing alone. The researchers do state that the statistics aren’t reliable, because there’s not a separate category for coroners to use to differentiate suicide from a possible “game” gone wrong, but the expectation is that the problem is being understated rather than overstated.
I really hope my daughter knows that even temporary loss of oxygen to the brain can cause brain damage, but if she didn’t before, she will by tomorrow. She isn’t in the prime age group for this but of craziness, but it’s easier to talk to your children than to bury them. I know, just 82 in how many years? But that’s 82 young people who might be alive if they’d had a better understanding of physiology, at the very least.
The Stitching Bloggers’ Question of the Week is:
Do you have any projects that you have scrapped and started over? What made you start over from scratch?
I can only remember one, and I restarted it at least twice, maybe three times. It was the Celtic Cross designed by Deb Davis for Y-Knot Designs. I think I tried starting with one of the corners, but kept finding myself off a bit, so I frogged everything and started from the middle, as I usually do. I still kept getting off by just a thread here or there, so I do think I frogged all that again, then started from the center again but working in a different direction. I’m very pleased with how it turned out, but I think it was the last piece I did on linen instead of evenweave.
I recorded some more pieces, but need to wait for Sam to “produce” them (clean them up and add appropriate music). One of them isn’t something I would have chosen myself, but Todd, who created Live Readings, asked to hear others read it. It turned out better than I thought it would. And it was fun to do something that I wouldn’t have chosen.
So it’s request time! What would you like me to record, or write about?
I wanted to do something different for today’s Thing-a-Day, and I signed up to be part of Live Readings a while back but hadn’t recorded anything yet, so I’m posting this is both (all three?) places.
“What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, and Where, and Why (Sonnet XLIII)”
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.
From Collected Poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay
This was the Monday-est Monday I’ve had in a while.
Generally, the only reason any one day of the week differs from another, for me, is in whether or not Sam is at home. Today was different because I had to go to a morning appointment on my own, Katie and I had other appointments this evening, and I had a great many phone calls to make.
I think I’m in people overload. It’s silly, since I really didn’t have to deal with that many people directly. But my days are usually compassed by Sam, Katie, and whoever I might let in a bit via the internet. Today I made more than a dozen phone calls to various bureaucracies, so I got to deal with a lot of people who apparently really hate their jobs and take it out on anyone who dares to call. I definitely get a little misanthropic myself at times, but I don’t generally take it out on people who aren’t doing anything but existing!
i did get a financial aid problem straightened out, and registered for my next semester of classes.
However, I’m not doing email tonight, and I’m not leaving comments on blogs, and if the phone rings I might throw it away.
Sorry, world. I’ll try to be nicer tomorrow.