Day: March 24, 2006

Crankypantsing, Photography

My Swiss Cheese Brain

Shelly

Happy, um, Friday. Or something. It’s clamid here–not exactly cold, but coldish, and grey and drizzley with what I’m pretty sure was a an occasional spittle of sleet. O ick.

100_1794

Despite–or rather, because of–the cloud cover, we had a nice little sunset last night.

I’d meant to spend the whole day at home, working on scanning, but I woke up at 3am and realized that I’d forgotten to take care of a very important errand. I ended up getting up relatively early, for a day-off, and going into Bloomington. Lemme tell ya’, that was about the last thing I wanted to spend the morning doing. I got my grocery shopping finished, though, so I should stop complaining. Except I’m not gonna, because I still forgot to pick up dish detergent, damnit! I’ve been out for over a month, and I keep forgetting to buy it. I remembered laundry detergent and camera batteries and lighters[1] and hand soap, sure, but not dish detergent. Hrmph. I’ve been substituting laundry detergent, which gets the job done, but it’s not as satisfyingly sudsy. Heck, I even remembered Kleenex and paper towels! And, no, a list wouldn’t be likely to help, because I’d have to actually take the list to the store with me. That’s the problem with lists, dontcha see?

Anyway, I’m back from errand running. Whew. I’m pet sitting for Ms. Lea’s menagerie this weekend, and I’m happy to report that the driveway ‘twixt here and there has been fixed! Yea, verily, ’tis true! She bought a metric buttload of gravel last week. Of course, the first time we have a big spring rain, the Chasm to Bism will inevitably re-open, but for now, it’s all nice and smooth and just darn peachy.

And, also, too, as well, a young adult bobtail cat turned up next door. I suspect some asshat dumped him, because he’s not at all shy. In fact, he’s heart-breakingly friendly. He’s obviously been someone’s pet. AND HE LOOKS JUST LIKE BASIL!!! But without the eeevilness. He even has a bitty Basil-sized nub. Ms. Lea has him locked in the bedroom, and will decide what to do with him when she returns. In the meantime, I get to go play with Basil’s Good Twin.

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[1] Disclaimer: I don’t smoke, but the electricity here has a bad habit of flaking out whenever it’s windy or really rainy. As in, when we’re having typical Spring-in-Indiana weather. When the electricity went out a few weeks ago, I had a hell of a time finding a working lighter so that I could light candles. I won’t mention how many times I’ve been to the store or gas station since then and I’ve forgotten to pick one up, but it was something on a par with how many times I’ve been to the store and forgotten dish detergent. My brain, it’s like a steel sieve, bay-BEE!

Letters to Esther

Lo Siento

Shelly

I ought to know when to leave well enough alone. I tried adding a search tool to the Letters to Esther site, and ended up temporarily breaking the front page. So, my apologies to anyone who tried to access it and was confronted with a broken and totally useless search page. Everything is back to normal now, whatever normal is. I’ll have a go at the search tool at a later date.

While I’m on the subject, everything that was on the old Esther blog has now been added to the new site. About half of those transcripts now have scans. This weekend, I’m hoping to finish scanning the stragglers. Then, I can start transcribing new material. Wheee! And, the About, Biography, Resources, and Notes sections are now functional. I’ll fill them out as I have time and come across material. Right now, the About and Resources sections are the most extensive.

I’ve also created a little envelope favicon which is very simple but kinda cute. It doesn’t work in IE, for some reason, but those of you who use Firefox or Opera should be able to see it. I’ll try to trouble-shoot the IE problem–it’s always an IE problem, it seems–as soon as I have time.

Now, if my patience holds out, I’m off to troll RootsWeb.

Crankypantsing

That’ll Learn Me

Shelly

I thought I’d have something moderately healthy for breakfast: poached egg on toast. I’m really picky about eggs, and will only eat them if they’re prepared Just Right. Poached eggs are one of my favorites, though. Mmmm

So, I started to make toast and cracked my egg into a bowl. I set the bowl on the stove and waited for the water to boil. When it began bubbling happily, I picked up the bowl and promptly dropped it. I’m a dork, you see, and didn’t stop to think that a ceramic bowl sitting rightthehellnextto a hot burner might get, oh, I dunno, a little warm maybe. Very warm, actually. I burned the hell out of my hand when I picked it up. The egg splattered all over the place when it fell. Half of it seems to have fallen into the burner pan, where it cooked to a crisp. The rest of it either coated the spice bottles next to the stove or ran down the front and sides of the stove-side cabinet.

I’m over the idea of poached eggs, so now I have to figure out what to do with cold toast. Maybe the birds will eat it? And I can’t even clean the burner pan–or cook anything else–until it cools off. Microwaving oatmeal would’ve been much safer.

So now I’m sitting here with an ice cube wrapped in a paper towel, typing whenever my hand gets too cold. I’m just glad that I managed to remember to buy paper towels, because I don’t even want to think of how else I would’ve cleaned up that unholy mess.

Can I go back to bed now?

Pets, Photography

Friday Cat Story

Shelly

Speaking of cats…

Pandora, my old cat, is a little strange. She’s lying under my feet, with a wadded up wash cloth between her front paws.

Sin

Pandora has two odd habits. First she compulsively washes anyone who pets her. I’m allergic to cat saliva, so whenever she sneaks in a stealth lick, I break out in red bumps. She also washes Rory. He doesn’t mind. In fact, he sometimes hunts her down and makes her wash his face and ears.

Second, she carries bits of paper and cloth around the house. I have no idea why she does it. During the night, she gets into the trash and the laundry hamper and digs out wash cloths, socks, and bits paper. Every morning, I wake up with a pile of her thievings outside my bedroom door. She doesn’t always bring them to me, though. Sometimes she sleeps on top of them. Sometimes she plays with them. And sometimes she just carries them around the house, trying to meow.[1] Because her mouth is stuffed full, what little sound there is comes out muffled and garbled. At that point, about all I can do is point and laugh. Luckily, she’s weird in many ways, and is one of those rare cats who enjoys being a clown. She’s totally okay with being pointed and laughed at.

I would worry that the fabric/paper fetish was a sign of an age related cognitive disorder, except she’s been doing it for more than ten years. The same with the compulsive people licking. They’re odd behaviors, but they’re normal for Pandora.

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1. Pandora has never been able to meow properly. Instead, she makes a little chirping noise or a whispered “mah.” When she was a kitten, my roommate had one of her littermates. The only way we were able to tell the kittens apart was that Pandora would open her mouth and no noise would come out. Luckily, Pan has an excellent sense of humor and doesn’t mind in the least being laughed at. I’ve known cats who were mortified when they were laughed at, but not Pan. She’s a ham.