It’s one of my “I will sing this in public if given any encouragement at all” songs.
Here’s my lump of lead from the New Years’ divining we did last night. This divinatory tradition is apparently thousands of years old. Keith’s was very long and thin, with a knob at one end and a ninety degree bend at the other, by which he interpreted that he was going to have some heavy sledding before he finishes up his schoolwork. Paul’s was very complex; I’d show a pic but I don’t know what he did with it.
The next pic will show Dr. Filk’s; Dr. Filk is normally quite dismissive of all this irrational stuff, but he admits that he enjoys the ‘Finnishing touches’ and the last one he participated in showed money coming in two thirds of the way through the year, which actually turned out to be true.
I find echoes of Stabat Mater, a parrot on a perch and an abalone. You can say it’s all baloney if you like!
Here’s a pic of Dr. Filk’s 2007, brought to you by Finnish stannomancy.
In the face of overwhelming odds, I maintained my sanity; I performed laundering and cleaning of dishes and emptying of cat litter (whoo-wee), I mailed off about twenty application requests to co-ops, I walked around downtown in the rain with Keith a lot, visited Doug and L.E., heard cuts off Odditorium, watered some plants (after trying to open the wrong fricking door, thank God the tenants weren’t home), I called a bunch of people to wish them a happy new year (and only people I really felt like talking to, and mostly got voicemail) and talked to Maggie and cleared up a misunderstanding. Gosh I’m dense sometimes. I’m okay with that.
Picture is of a headline from a local newspaper. I would like to be subtle about this, but there are a couple of other laughs on this front page, so I implore you to examine the entire image for chuckles.
I can now post any picture and it automatically resizes. The ghost in the machine has spoken!
Things are cruising along nicely. I could complain, but who’s listening?
I had a really good email exchange with a customer a couple of days ago. I think most of my job is figuring out how smart the customer is and tailoring the response to his or her particular requirements. I wish I could be loving and tolerant toward stupid people – I’m working on it but it’s a hard, hard slog.
2004-08-30— Posted by: allegra
Ah yes. There is a ghost in the machine, and his name is Glen. Some of you may be aware that the picture with the snake was the size of a dinner table; Glen held his peace for a couple of days and then without comment resized it.
The first time my website was live, it had nothing but a bunch of pornographic writing in it; that pesky spirit. I’m a pro porn feminist, so I was irritated without being scandalized. Most of my irritation came from a feeling I get rather more often than I ought, which is HEY I can do better than *that*.
People who know me know my flinching muscles work over time. I am an extremely tic’y kinda person, and I actually sat down and tried to review all of my personal tics, and I’m too smart to write the list down anywhere but it certainly got interesting before I lost track of how many I have. Then I reviewed a list of all the things that can happen during sex to make me completely reset to zero, and that made me want to phone Paul and apologize to him; I must be a sore trial to that man. Strangely he only really complains once in a long while. Really, the inside of my head never ceases to be of more fascination than television, lawn bowling (I typed blowing at first, and wish I’d left it that way) and everything else except the internet.
Pic is Paul’s.
2004-08-30— Posted by: allegra
Picture my astonishment (thus the blank) when we got home from singing and playing last night and Katie was already home, in fine form from another evening out taking pictures with her brand spanking new digital camera.
Another loverly evening at Tom and Peggy’s – this time I put a flea in Doug F.’s ear about how he should drag around his fiddle. And he did. Then he sang, to my astonishment, Willie’s Diamond Joe (he is apparently an avid Willie P Bennett fan) not knowing that I have worked up amazing harmonies to this tune – and I did not, as they say, hold back.
Paul did not play all that much but he says he had a grand time, and we’ll do it all again at our house on September the 19th. John was Mr. Entertainment AGAIN. And Keith did his Darwin’s version of Never Set the Cat on Fire, which was well received, and I sang C19H2802 and Paul sang Co-Pilot.
Last night I dreamed a snake started following Paul around (heeling like a dog), and we (a gang of people I know and don’t know) went to a retreat to think and write. It was set in a forest much like Cathedral Grove – that entish green filtered light. I also dreamed I descended a four storey metal-but-not-particularly-rickety ladder very very fast because I hate ladders and was trying to get it over with as soon as possible.
Tonight we’re taking Akiko to supper, Wednesday I go see Sally for my first Costume Consult and hopefully there will be some curriculum planning in the next week.
Sigh. Why can’t church just be FUN all the time?
2004-08-28— Posted by: allegra
Random pic, taken somewhere close to home (2019 edit – by katie, at the skate park on Sixth at Eighth.) Had a great time at Jim and Carol’s last night. Saw the Otto-man, Jerome, Megan & Jenna & Sergei, Tom U., Brian C, Chari (who was in fine form on the subject of marriage), Sarah & Ian, Jim and Carol of course and their neighbour Heather who’s just back from a year in Europe. Mike bailed, no reason given.
Today the board retreat – was supposed to provide coffee and I bought some but of course I am not a decaf drinker so I had to phone Michael and ask him to ask Elaine to pack some, as it doesn’t occur to me to purchase it, shudder. Decaf. I spit at decaf!
Katie was home before we were, phoned up asking plaintively where we were. Nice to have the shoe leather on other foot sez I. Keith is going to try to make the Saturday Karate class. And ask a girl out. Wish him luck.
2004-08-28— Posted by: allegra
animated smiley faces in business f*cking email correspondence!!! Jumping Jiminy Crickets but that p*sses me right off. I KNOW people mean well, but grrrrr ……
Lexi if you’re reading this the link to the parody of Never Set the Cat on Fire (and there was a guy convicted of that today, fancy that!? found at Fark.com) is at
http://www.speakeasy.org/~mamandel/filks/Darwin.html. I laughed until I cried the first time I tried to sing my way through that. Keith is inordinately fond of it as well.
I experienced the embarrassment of having my clothing disassemble as I was coming down the stairs to lunch today. Of all the stupid days NOT to wear a bra, there I am, gone SPUNG into space so I have to skate off into the bathroom clutching my chest. Managed to fix my zipper but I’m scared to breathe now. Watch it happen again at the party tonight, but I’ll be two beers gone and find it amusing instead of paralyzing. Hey Mike! My clothing flew apart and you weren’t there! Just kidding. I suppose it could be worse, I could have done that in front of a bunch of investors. On the other hand… no, let’s NOT go there.
I did phone Katie (it’s an item of clothing she frequently wears) and politely ask her if she’d booby-trapped it. So to speak. Every word of this is true, I have witnesses. Unfortunately, they are all too traumatized to corrugate my story at the moment. (Roger Rabbit reference, that wasn’t a typo.)
That has an accident between an aircraft and a truck on the ramp at a major international airport. The accident happened off an active runway while the aircraft was being towed. No idea what happened to the tow truck driver – he should have been disciplined at the very least, because he was going too fast. The tow bar snapped and sheared off the tow pin, then the aircraft (which didn’t have any fuel in it and was therefore light and ‘hoppy’) bounced into the air and came down on the truck in a variation of the ‘jackknife’ accident so well known to Canadian highway drivers. Since Canadians specialize in ‘expensive f*ckups that don’t kill anybody’ nobody was even injured.
Anyway, although I am not going to reproduce them here, out of respect for the lawyers at Air Canada, Paul was able to walk up to where the work was being done and take pictures. The guys are doing beautiful work on the belly skin (and a couple of structural members, alas), getting it fixed up again and back into service, and as they have nothing to be ashamed of I’m glad Paul got pix. I find it interesting that Paul is by no means the only person who’s wandered in there with a digital camera and absolutely no attempt has been made to stop him; he’s wearing the uniform and has the badge, so nobody said a thing.
there’s a lot of beauty going begging
and a lot of sorrow going unassuaged
Anyway Mike was over for dinner last night. Fed him lasagna. Keith got his learners permit and went for his green belt grading yesterday AND he worked at Habitat for Humanity’s Re-store, so he had a day crowded with life and incident. Paul went to watch and take pictures with our NEW DIGITAL CAMERA and I should be posting pics but I’m feeling too lazy too find them. One of the girls at the grading patted Keith on the bum. I said in my understanding girls don’t look for excuses to touch boys they don’t like. Katie took some nice pix of Pokey but once again I’m feeling lazy. I took a picture of Cousin Itt, which is this weird thing around the corner from where I live and if I ever get a GOOD pic of Cousin Itt I’ll post it. Taking pictures is harder than it looks.
Minister Katie Stein Sather had a letter published in the Sun today. My Katie disappeared with the new camera last night, prompting Paul to nearly blow a head valve, as they say, but of course she brought it home safe and sound, and loaded with pictures of her …. friends. Not much else to report.
I have come to regret ever volunteering for the youth program at church. My heart tells me I am still doing the right thing, but I look at this pile of well meaning literature (which has come to my hand like the dreck of ages as oozed by VERY Nice ‘n’ Earnest Humans) and have to suppress a shudder. I will do it their way because that’s what they’re expecting, but I think about the Correction that is coming and I have to suppress another form of nervous tremor, which is me envisioning a Unitarian Gun Club. I mean really, if you were cursed with an imagination that could think up the Unitarian Gun Club without suffering cranial herniation…….. I am a sad sad puppy, and need to think about other times, things and higher stuff.
I committed labour unrest the other day, by reporting a bus driver for using a cell phone – while manipulating the bus MY preciousss heinie was parked on. Under normal circumstances this would generate an unproductive but bilious fury. Under these circumstances, which I am about to relate, which I witnessed with my two (still barely functioning) eyes, which really happened to me and belong to me until my neurons part with them – under these circumstances I did not transform into a dove but into a f*cking stool pigeon. Dear friends, relations, neighbours and strangers, there was a family of FIVE GERMAN TOURISTS in the front, aged 15 to 50, the boy and girls as bleached and Teutonic and GORGEOUS as it is possible to get without lurching into parody, the parents trim, big featured and intelligent looking. The looks on their faces as they watched the driver answer his phone and then PULL OUT OF THE STATION should, by rights, have knocked the phone out of his hand and onto the street. Now even then, all my relations, I might have kept my little cheese-eating paws in my pockets and swallowed the river of molten lava/bile that was mounting in me like the cork pressure behind Krakatoa’s little urk, BUT he made a mistake. He WAS TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH HE WAS GOING TO MAKE ON OVERTIME as he was on the phone. What’s a good citizen to do? Of course I ratted him out. Three f*cking strikes baby.
As the Bible says, a puppy will go back to its puke (okay, I’m paraphrasing, but not by much) I will go back into the mopes and wails of my life, telling them over like a rosary made of fossilized porcupine sh*t, ever so tactile. I guess the thing that makes me saddest (or maybe sadist, they’re pronounced the same way in my dialect) is thinking that teaching these kids peace love and understanding is not really gonna help them that much when the crap hits the fan. So I am not really inclined to teach principals that won’t keep you alive when evil men pack weapons, but I know that I must or abandon the post.
It says that a youth advisor must be drug free. I happen to really like beer, although I don’t imagine that I’ll drink that much around.
As a Canadian woman, I would be a fool, and the worst kind of feminist (in other words, impractical in my understanding of human nature) not to acknowledge the role that many thousands of Canadian men and women played in giving me the life I have today by valiantly parting with life in local and foreign wars on behalf of my ancestors, and the ancestors of the governors of my part of the world. I don’t believe for two seconds that anybody deserved to die in the conflicts of this last or any other century (okay Ceaucescu), but democracy is worth dying for (the ideal, not the nation state), if only because it seems the single chance for the improvement of self government.
Okay the boys are back from F 9/11 so I guess I’d better get away from the computer. I still think I’d like to teach UU Youth to blow things up, but I’ll have a hard time getting THAT on the curriculum.
Tornado Pictures, All Rights Reserved, Scott Newton, 2004 (Permission to use pictures granted. Please give attribution to Scott Newton)
This is the highest twister ever recorded in the continental US (taken at Rockwell Pass in Sequoia National Park, ABOVE 3500 feet). The streaks are hail. Much thanks to Scott for specifically allowing reprint with attribution. The rest of the pics are pretty amazing too. Please do not forward pic without attribution.
You gotta admit, digital photography really rocks. The hail was alley-sized and fell for – get this – an HOUR.
Finally finished my cloak.