I lost track of who orig­i­nal­ly linked to what, so I can’t cred­it them prop­er­ly. But thank you to who­ev­er they all were, any­way!

Filed under “anoth­er rea­son I’m proud to be a home­school­er”: Cal­i­for­nia court rules that pri­vate school can oust les­bian stu­dents. I do under­stand that it’s a pri­vate reli­gious school, and that their denom­i­na­tion does­n’t approve of homo­sex­u­al­i­ty. On the oth­er hand, the girls’ par­ents chose to send them to that school, not the girls them­selves. And demand­ing that every­body in the school be het­ero­sex­u­al makes every bit as much sense as demand­ing that they all be right-hand­ed! (It also sounds like the school went WAY the hell over­board in inter­pret­ing the “evi­dence.”)

Can I get an “Amen”?! End­ing Weight Bias: The Eas­i­est Way to Tack­le Obe­si­ty in Amer­i­ca

This is news? Read­ers build vivid men­tal sim­u­la­tions of nar­ra­tive sit­u­a­tions, brain scans sug­gest

Not Good News: Mer­cury found in kids’ foods — and in pret­ty much any­thing else that con­tains HFCS. I’m con­fi­dent of my abil­i­ty to kick the soda habit, but total­ly avoid­ing HFCS pret­ty much means avoid­ing all processed foods. GAH!

This is so cool! Implants Tap the Think­ing Brain

No sur­prise to me, at least: Watch out. The Inter­net will cut you

Real­i­ty check: Sor­ry, you don’t have a 200 IQ

Anoth­er no-brain­er: Video Games May Hin­der Rela­tion­ships

linked to Hand­knit Heroes yes­ter­day.

Imag­ine you’re a teenag­er, and you have some… spe­cial pow­ers. Maybe even super pow­ers. And one day, at a sleep­over, your best friend in the whole world tells you—you’re not alone. So begins the adven­ture for a cou­ple of teenagers, a sin­gle mom and yarn shop own­er, and a whole bunch of hand knit­ted fun.

Hand­knit Heroes is the first graph­ic nov­el for knit­ters. Each issue fea­tures a great sto­ry­line with knit­ting super­heroes, ter­rif­ic art­work, and a beau­ti­ful (and easy) knit­ting pat­tern.

I’m vast­ly amused, and I nei­ther knit (yet!) nor read graph­ic nov­els. I know that does both, though, and I fig­ure there are prob­a­bly oth­ers.

Oh, for a work­ing cam­era!¹

Katie cleaned the top of the file cab­i­net next to my chair with a Method clean­er that is strong­ly mint-scent­ed. Kyoshi won’t let us put the scan­ner there as intend­ed, because he’s lick­ing the cleaned sur­face and rub­bing all over it orgas­mi­cal­ly. (Cat­nip is in the mint fam­i­ly, and I guess this stuff is close enough.)

Leah tagged me on Face­book to write 25 ran­dom things about myself, then Sam tagged me to come up with 16 ran­dom tid­bits. I’m not good at these things, but I’ll give it a try.

1. I did­n’t go to kinder­garten, but start­ed first grade when I was 5 because my moth­er thought she had to put me in school.
2. My first-grade teacher, Mrs. Forester, was very hard of hear­ing, so she yelled con­stant­ly. I was con­stant­ly pet­ri­fied that year, because in my fam­i­ly yelling meant some­body was going to get knocked around.
3. I spent much of the 4th and 5th grades as a sub­sti­tute teacher for younger stu­dents, because one of my aunts was the school sec­re­tary and she chose well-behaved A stu­dents (always female, for some rea­son) for that pur­pose. The school or school dis­trict was appar­ent­ly too poor or too cheap to actu­al­ly hire subs.
4. My ear­li­est mem­o­ry is from the week after my sis­ter was born, when I was 23 months old.
5. When my sis­ter and I were about 2 and 4 years old, a rabid Ger­man shep­herd jumped the fence around our back yard and chased us. It was less than a foot away from her when a neigh­bor used his hunt­ing rifle to kill it. She does­n’t remem­ber the inci­dent, but she’s still pho­bic about that breed. Me? I want­ed to learn to shoot that rifle. NOW!
6. I start­ed ques­tion­ing Chris­tian­i­ty when I was about 8 years old. One of my cousins gave me a lit­tle Scor­pio pen­dant for my birth­day, which my moth­er prompt­ly con­fis­cat­ed, rail­ing about for­tune-telling and witch­es. I asked her about the dif­fer­ence between “prophets” and “for­tune-tellers” and found myself in the preacher’s office. I asked him about a spe­cif­ic verse in the New Tes­ta­ment and was told that God had­n’t giv­en him the under­stand­ing of that verse yet, so he ripped that page out of his Bible. Since Moth­er spanked us for even putting a Sun­day School book or church bul­letin on top of a Bible while car­ry­ing them, I was con­vinced that he was going to Hell straightaway—unless the whole church thing was balder­dash.
7. My first piano teacher, Mar­jorie Hall, had also taught my moth­er when she was a child. She was our church organ­ist.
8. My father has had seri­ous back prob­lems through­out most of my life. I learned to give back rubs very ear­ly, try­ing to ease his pain.
9. My mater­nal grand­fa­ther, Dad­dy Boots, was a moon­shine run­ner in his younger years. Some of Dad­dy’s extend­ed fam­i­ly ran stills across north Alaba­ma and north Geor­gia, and it’s very like­ly that he worked for them. I’ve always found that high­ly amus­ing, since Mom’s fam­i­ly con­sid­ered Dad­dy to be “from the wrong side of the tracks” when they start­ed dat­ing.
10. Our extend­ed fam­i­lies were very close­ly-knit when I was young, but both fell apart fair­ly quick­ly after my grand­moth­ers died (both in 1987).
11. My pater­nal grand­fa­ther was a union orga­niz­er at the steel mill where he worked. He died when my father was 7, and the union did noth­ing to help the fam­i­ly, so Dad­dy has been vir­u­lent­ly anti-union ever since.
12. I came across the idea of being open­ly involved with more than one per­son at a time in Hein­lein’s Time Enough for Love when I was 13. It made per­fect sense to me. I’ve been polyamorous ever since, though I have agreed to monog­a­mous rela­tion­ships from time to time.
13. I adore huge dogs. Yes, in the house. It’s cru­el to bring a dog into a fam­i­ly, then keep it out in the yard. They’re pack ori­ent­ed! I miss hav­ing a big, fenced yard that’s suit­ed to let­ting a big dog run around safe­ly.
14. I’ve always been a cat per­son, which is weird, since my par­ents have no use for them. They don’t think ani­mals belong in the house at all, but over the years I guess I wore them down. I hard­ly con­sid­er any struc­ture a home with­out a cat.
15. I miss climb­ing trees. I don’t think any­one taught me to do it, but accord­ing to both my mem­o­ries and fam­i­ly sto­ries, if they could­n’t find me, the best place to look was gen­er­al­ly up. I used to spend hours perched up in trees, read­ing, as the best way to avoid my lit­tle sis­ter.
16. I spent much of my mid­dle school and ear­ly high school evenings and week­ends babysit­ting and act­ing as a “moth­er’s helper.” I even babysat a cou­ple of kids who were old­er than I was, but since I was ahead of them in school, that was a secret between me and their par­ents.
17. I start­ed work­ing at my father’s employ­er’s office after school and in the sum­mers when I was 12.
18. I was involved in just about every­thing but art and sports in high school: march­ing and sym­phon­ic band, per­form­ing cho­rus, dra­ma, debate, math club, Beta club, Nation­al Hon­or Soci­ety, Junior Civ­i­tan, Close-Up, mod­el U.N., etc. I had no idea that any of it would mat­ter to colleges—that was just a nice bonus.
19. While hus­band v.2 was wor­ried about his draft num­ber, I was start­ing first grade. Hus­band v.3 had already served in Viet­nam and returned by then.
20. Katie real­ly is a mir­a­cle, God­dess-gift baby. I met a woman at a Men­sa nation­al gath­er­ing, and out of the blue she asked if she could per­form a heal­ing for me. I could­n’t find a polite way to say no, so I said yes. She spent sev­er­al hours “pour­ing ener­gy” into me. After­wards, I could­n’t find her, the room where we’d been, or any­one else who had noticed her. Not long after that, I was preg­nant with­out any fer­til­i­ty treat­ments, although mul­ti­ple doc­tors had insist­ed that there was no way I would ever con­ceive with­out them.
21. I learned that I was preg­nant less than a week after con­cep­tion, because of the 24/7 sick­ness (that stayed with me through­out the preg­nan­cy). I thought I had a stom­ach flu, but it would­n’t go away. I went to a doc-in-the-box to get a preg­nan­cy test just to make my hus­band stop talk­ing about a preg­nan­cy. I made them do the test three times to be sure!
22. I’ve lost track of the num­ber of mis­car­riages I’ve had. I want­ed more kids, but have final­ly resigned myself to the fact that I got a per­fect child the first time, and she’s going to be my only one.
23. I’m a vocal snob. I find it phys­i­cal­ly painful to be near some peo­ple when they’re singing, and have lit­tle to no patience with them. While I’d love to sing with a group again on a reg­u­lar basis, I’m total­ly dis­in­ter­est­ed in any group that does­n’t require strict audi­tions.
24. I think I’ve for­got­ten how to cook. Odd, since I start­ed cook­ing at a very young age and cooked din­ner every day until short­ly before I met Sam. (He’s a bet­ter cook than I am, any­way.)
25. I’m not cur­rent­ly read­ing a book. I can’t remem­ber that hav­ing hap­pened at any time since I was in first grade.

I’m not going to tag peo­ple specif­i­cal­ly, but if you want to play, please let me know so that I won’t miss your list!

This lit­tle girl has to be one of the cutest lit­tle dar­lings any­where! Her sto­ry is high­ly enter­tain­ing 🙂

Once upon a time… from Capucha on Vimeo.

Like urban fan­ta­sy? Want to win a $25 gift cer­tifi­cate? Go vote in the Urban Fan­ta­sy Land Read­ers’ Choice Awards, then post a link from your own blog/site.¹

Look! TWO posts in ONE day! Maybe I’m final­ly crawl­ing out of my pit of depres­sion.

My very help­ful child dis­ap­proved of how I was treat­ing my small stitch­ing project, so she sweet­ly put it in a huge Ziplock bag and “put it away.”

I have absolute­ly no idea where “away” might be, but it isn’t in my stitch­ing bag, or near my reclin­er, or in the area where I’ve been sit­ting in the liv­ing room. Now she says she did­n’t put it any­where. Buh?

And we stopped at Michael’s yes­ter­day to get the DMC I need­ed for it!¹

I also got the fab­ric for two big­ger pieces, though, so I can start one of those. Tech­ni­cal­ly, I know that I have the fab­ric for Deep Peace around here some­where, but I could­n’t find it, so I got a new piece. Now the orig­i­nal fab­ric will, of course, make itself known.

Small­er, less involved projects are bet­ter to do while in com­pa­ny, though. And it’s date night. The girl is, her­self, out on a date, so I can’t even shang­hai her into help­ing find the small project. Grump. She found sup­plies for a cou­ple of dif­fer­ent art projects while we were at Michael’s, too, so I expect heavy art­ing from her short­ly.

We picked up din­ner for the three of us at Lit­tle Azio’s on the way home, which was as deli­cious as usu­al. That was a love­ly way to end a tir­ing, but reward­ing, day.

While brows­ing the AJC this after­noon, I was sur­prised to find Gads­den, Alaba­ma fea­tured as a “one tank trip” des­ti­na­tion. I lived there for 7–8 years as a child and spent sev­er­al sum­mers there in my teens, and had­n’t ever heard of any of the men­tioned attrac­tions oth­er than Noc­calu­la Falls. I was even more sur­prised to read that Gads­den was sup­pos­ed­ly vot­ed “Amer­i­ca’s Most Liv­able City” by some­body back in 2000. I have to won­der if any of the vot­ers actu­al­ly lived there for any length of time, as I large­ly remem­ber hor­ri­ble schools (no libraries, even), staunch racism, and gen­er­al intol­er­ance. I do have some good mem­o­ries, of course, but they’re of peo­ple more than places, so tourists would­n’t have access to them.