Archive for February 2008

Happy V-​​Day!

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.

SBQ: Starting Over?

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?

Celtic Cross designed by Deb Davis for Y-Knot Designs

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.

What do you want to read or hear?

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?
Con­tinue read­ing ‘What do you want to read or hear?’ »

Poetry: Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

Music is “Cel­e­bra­tion” by Mark Hei­mo­nen from the Pod­safe Music Network


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.