Book review

An older book one of Robert A, Heinlein's juveniles, one which I had never read.  Well!!

Called "The Rolling Stones" This is set shortly after "The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress" on the moon actually.   The Stone family is bored. Things are getting too crowded and civilized on the Moon for Castor and Pollux 16 year old twins.  They live with their father and mother, their grandmother Hazel Meade Stone (who appeared in The Moon is..) and one or two siblings.

The boys decided to go to a second rocket place and check out something to run about the solar system.  Father is not pleased, the boys have not completed their formal education.  They have the money but it is in trust for when they are older.  The entire family gets involved and they ultimately purchase the rocket with the proviso that the twins help rebuild the thing and complete their education via home study while en route to where ever.  Many educational things follow mostly higher mathematics and the author throws in a great deal of hard science.  I mental skip these pages and keep an eye out for when the mathematical formulae suddenly returns to dialog.  Isaac Azimov wrote the same way, these men were determined to push the hard part of science fiction.  Thanks Guys but I still hum tunelessly during that particular exposition sometimes with a French accent.

One of the math problems is figuring an elliptical cometary orbit by earth on their way to Mars.  On their way, they pass another passenger ship, exchange pleasantries.  They get a distress call, is any Doctor available?  Um, Mrs. Stone is a medical doctor so off she goes to go into quarantine on the War Bird to treat an outbreak of modified measles.

The Rolling Stone proceeds to Phobos and the family is reunited.  They get stranded on Mars and decide to head out to the asteroids and sell high quality goods.  Before they go they purchase a Martian critter called a flat cat, as appealing and prolific as a Tribble. 

Ultimately they have to decide if they return to the moon for the boys formal education but they all decide to chuck it and head for Titan and Saturn's Rings as Hazel had vowed to get to see them before she died, being 95 and all.  This was a delightful romp, good bedtime reading material for the kids.

Back in the time of the dinosaurs...

Reminiscing this morning.  It is a windy day on the coast.  Which brings to mind my encounters with late 19^th century technology in my grade school days.  I attended Parkview Junior High School in Emmett, Idaho. The building was actually the first high school built in Emmett and even had post grade studies for those students not quite ready for college.  I attended from the fifth grade through the eighth grade.  My eight grade class was the last class to have a graduation ceremony.  When I was in the sixth grade my teacher was Mrs. Shane. There was a janitor named Mr. Shane but they were not related nor married to each other.  Mrs. Shane had a very large wind up record player and a collection of records.  She would play some of them for us from time to time.  I remember one in particular.  I do not remember the title but it was a comedy sketch and was all about a Swede making his first ever telephone call to someone.  The reception was not good.  The story was a series of yelled lines, garbled repetitions and the last line was “The vind! The vind! Not da Devil!”.  Pretty sure it was straight from Vaudeville and one of the lesser acts. But we laughed politely, because even then Mrs.Shane made sure we knew “Vind” meant wind.  You had to be there. We also listened to some music. One was “Barney Google of the Goo Goo Googly Eyes!” Who apparently drove around in a Stutz Bear Cat, wore a raccoon coat and flirted with girls.  Dad used to sing that song.  He sang lots of oddments now and then.  As a result we grew up singing songs when we were on the road.

"Time Enough For Love" By Robert A. Heinlein.

Been re-reading an old Robert Heinlein.  I had forgotten what I loved…and hated about those stories.  His hard science explanations were brutal, probably correct but Lord only of intense interest to particle physicist and geneticist. I re-read “Time Enough For Love”.  Lazarus Long, oldest member of the Howard families and man of many names,  has been retrieved by his loving descendants.  He was near death and determined to complete the act of dying.  There is a very long couple of chapters where they have to explain why they saved him.  He told them he had lived long enough and there was nothing interesting left to do.  If they could convince him that there were more mysteries and things to learn he would go ahead with the rejuvenation.  Story telling time.   He reminisced about one planet where he raised a foundling, Dora until she got big enough to tell him that she wanted him for her husband.  He had surprisingly, fallen totally in love with Dora.  Dora knew he was a long-lived Howard and he decided he wanted nine children with her.   This story was all about leaving the outskirts in a two wagon mule train. The mules were intelligent and Buck talked quite well.  They fought off wild life, nearly died of thirst but made it up and over a rocky pass into a lovely valley.   There they settled.  Only had trouble from people once.  A wagon showed up with three men who turned out to be evil, wicked, bad and dead.  Dora had her many babies, other settlers showed up and it looked like the community was going to thrive.  Dora died at an advanced age and it was time for Lazarus to move on.  I blubbered all over that scene.  There was also the story of the man who became admiral through laziness. A young lad aged 13 raised in farm country loved to read because that meant he wasn’t doing chores.  School ended for him at age 13 and after following the south end of a mule pulling a plow he went into town, lied about his age and enlisted.  The entire story involves his efforts at trying to find more time to read involved disguising laziness as hard work.  Most amusing.  Lazarus had more generational adventures and it got boring, so he settled into a nice ending.  His kids got him partially rejuvenated when they asked him what he thought he might like to do.  He said it would be time travel.  Oh not to the deadly times just to observe some of his favorite places, things and times.  So, they got that going.  He programed his space ship for early 20^th century, Kansas City and wound up there August 1916.  He had intended to visit his family,  He was only four years old at that time.  So Lazarus went as Ted Bronson and eventually met his then family and the most important love of his live and got his arse shot off during WWI.  Now I’m trying to download “The Number Of The Beast” (Deetie and her crew meet Dora) not on Amazon and “Beyond The Sunset” (Mama Maureen’s adventures) not on Amazon.  Also there were a number of transcription errors in the digital copy that RAH would have not tolerated.  So I am off to grumble at Amazon.

 

I remember sewing.

SEWING AS I REMEMBER IT:

So I saw a Facebook post about someone whose sewing machine broke and she was going into withdrawal.  And I got to thinking about Mom. 

I do not remember Mom sewing much before she got the Necci Elna in the mid to late 50’s. I remember the salesman pitching the machine with free sewing lessons for anyone in the family nodding at me.  Little did I know that I would not touch the machine for a good 30 years.  That particular sewing machine came with a knee peddle and all sorts of plastic gears and knobs to make different stitches.  During that time the only sewing machine I ever touched was my Grandma Horn’s old manual Singer sewing machine and the one electric machine provided in my one attempt in the Home Economics class at Parkview Junior High school. More about that later.

Mom’s sewing efforts in my youth consisted of tailoring Dad’s work pants.  One leg was about one inch shorter on one side so she evened up the pant legs.  My dress of choice (by choice I mean Mom’s choice of fabric and style) consisted of shirt waste dresses with a zipper opening on the side or buttons in the front and the fabric was usually Dan River cottons.   Don’t know if that fabric is even made anymore, probably not as it was American manufacture.  Dan River cottons almost didn’t require ironing just a touch up.  And I ironed my dresses and anything else in the basket down to a certain colored towel.  So each year Mom would make me three to five new dresses.  This was usually preceded by purchasing the material and she would prewash it and I got to help hold onto as she stretched the washed material.  That was torture, as I would invariably NOT hold onto the edges adequately as we tortured the material into a roughly oblong shape.   Then she would pin and cut the pattern….and had to try it on for fit and hemming, “Stand up straight! Or the hem will be crooked!”.

Back to sewing.  My HomeEc class taught sewing and the end of year project was, surprise, surprise, a shirtwaist dress.  I worked on that thing for weeks.  Finally I brought it home to be washed as there was going to be a fashion show at school.  Mom looked at the dress, screamed, ripped it apart, sewed it back together to her specifications and I wore it to school once for the fashion show and uh I think something fatal happened to it fairly soon afterwards. 

One dress that I wish I still had and fit into was my eighth grade graduation dress.  It was black and white polka dot cotton with black trim.  The neckline was squared in the front and back with a black crisscross bit in the back.  Very sharp.  Of course it was nothing like what everyone else was wearing and being different is death amongst your peers at that age, so I hated the dress then but in perspective it was rather striking.  I shouldn’t have been such a little shit.

Then there were the quilts:  Mom used to have a quilting frame and C-clamps to adjust the frame.  Occasionally she would sew a quilt and it was a genuine party when she would get the top, batting and quilt bottom all pinned together.  None of these were ever hand quilted, the method used to fasten these quilts together consisted of a giant needle threading yarn through the quilt pieces, cutting and tying the yarn in the middle and edges of each quilt block.  This would take a couple of days and I did like cutting and tying the yarn into knots.  Grandma Horn quilted like this.  Great Grandma Lattimer hand quilted her tops.  Mom kept her birthday quilt top for over sixty years before she put it together and it is a beautiful thing preserved in a special archival box and papers waiting to enhance some of our descendant’s homes.

Permanent Press:  Came into being shortly after I graduated and left home.  My three younger sisters um suffered through endless dresses and all of those left over pieces went into quilts.  Those quilts have held up like old ironsides over the years.  My quilt top is still hanging in there, it needs new batting and cotton bottom so I have more or less archived it to decorate the top of my lovely Waterfall style wardrobe, lovely.  To my knowledge the girls went all natural fiber after an eternity of polyester during their youth.

One of the last things Mom ever sewed for me was my wedding dress in 1970.  I asked her to sew it for me, then I lived in San Rafael, California and we consulted over the phone to Emmett, Idaho.  It consisted of a armless satin sheath with a simple armless lace topper.  I wish I still fit into that.  That dress and marriage did not fare so well.  But it wasn’t bad for a starter marriage. 

When I came back to Idaho, one of the first major appliances I purchased was a sewing machine.  I didn’t want one like Mom’s.  One of my friends who had become a social worker for the state told me the brand used in the state rehab facilities (Husqvarna) so I got one of those figuring if they could use, I could use it.  It has lasted me well right up to this day.  I don’t sew all that much anymore other than to trim a hem and hand sew something needing repair. Go figure.

The weird thing is that over the years, Mom initially started sewing for her entire family as a cost savings because clothes were so expensive and fabric and patterns were cheap.  That has almost completely reversed since those days in the global economy.  It used to be I could purchase fabric, a pattern and sew myself an outfit for twelve dollars.  Now? Not so much.

And when I was a kid there was no such thing as a charity resale shop unless it was Salvation Army and we snooty Berglund’s would not be caught dead wearing such.  However, not too long ago, I shopped a genuine Versace blouse in my local resale shop for six bucks.  Hah! Take that Project Runway!!

And if anyone is interested, Phil has the Necci Elna.
PS: Just in case anyone forgot, all of the above happened with lots of yelling.

August 15, 2015:

I have been re-reading Dune by Frank Herbert.   This was prompted by a Facebook posting all about a fan created DUNE using the original movie with restored cuts etc.   I tried to view it but the video had been taken down.   Hmmm

I first read the book sometime after 1964 when it was first published. Dune won a Hugo award, the first Nebula award and a movie and television series were created based on the book.

Ok, having seen the movie several times I can say that there were some fairly mild liberties taken with the plot.  Only one complaint regarding casting.  Sting cast as Feyd Ruatha Harkonnen was completely off.  Feyd and Usel were secretly cousins.  Sting made a lovely menacing Feyd but the book had him with black hair, lithe, etc. 

Plot points:  The movie implied much more involvement of the Guilds than was actually going on in the book.  Jessica’s part was much more involved in the book whereas in the movie, she was simply the lovely concubine of Duke Leto stuck in the desert.  The old mentat worked both sided of the street in the book.

It seemed that there were some Islamic influences in the book.  Jihad is part of the plot. Ramadan is mentioned and the cry of “We were denied Hajj!” was in memory of three slave pit rebellions on three different worlds.  I wonder if  Frank Herbert ever had a Fatwa issued.

Chani’s part was a bit murky so I will obviously have to watch Dune again.  I’m sure it will be on television some time soon.

Spent the day yesterday chasing primary care providers and specialists.  My FNP appointment was at 9 am.  She took me off Glipizide and will manage DM2 with insulin adjustments to save a little wear and tear on the kidneys.  See her in one month.  Drove to Roseburg to visit with my friend Sue and then toddled off to see Dr. K.  My labs are good, not anemic, see him in two months and he gave me a couple of candies.  He called me "Roycie" and I told him only my father was allowed to call me that but I would make an acception but that he would be a very young father.  He laughed and said he was older than me.  Nu uh! Yep, 72.  Well! Nicely preserved.  Husband stayed home being a bit under the weather.  I need more exercise just simply getting out of the danged house.  So today I shall made the arduous trip to the pharmacy and venture to the DMV to renew my driver's license.  Oy! I have to take an eye test so this could get dicey.

Cool Saturday Morning

I enjoy listening to NRP on Saturday morning, while lying in bed not quite ready to get up and face the day.  Today Scott Simon of the soulful puppy eyes and worlds greatest belly laugh was reporting on various topics.  He introduced Penn and Teller who have worked together now for 40 years.  That is longer than most marriages.  There was an interview with an author who wrote "Under Tiberius" which as near as I can tell is the story of a Roman con man who goes on the road with Jesus.  The author sounded exhausted and cynical and may have hopes of literary prizes in his future.  Another piece was a new album by a lovely young thing whose muse was Nina Simone singing Bee Gee's covers.   Strange.  Some political stuff.  And at the top of the hour I was compelled to leap from my lovely morning snooze to face the day.   No belly laugh from Mr. Simon today.  Dang it.

Haven't blogged in a while, now have new security stuff to march through and most likely forget.
Update on eyes; steady state so far, can read much better although there is a clear area in middle of left eye that compresses print, can read on each side.  This is typical of macular edema.  Hope to dry out soon.  Yesterday I woke about 2 am and the moonlight was just blasting into the neighborhood, really needed to have a fourth of July celebration going on.  It was pretty bright. So ta ta for now.

Insomnia

Dear God: Who are you? You're not Morgan Freeman are you?



I am that I am and it iz whut it iz, although I like Mr. Freeman's voice. In the interest of moving things along we will limit this interview to five question.



1. Did you create everything?




Yes, if you are paying attention that includes everything, all possibilities, and as a result all of the bad things, complaining about things is irrelevant.


2. Do I have choices?



Oh yes that is all covered in free will.



3. Do pets go to Heaven?




Refer back to created everything. Some people simply won't see pets when they go to Heaven.


4. Do you like hymn music?




My favorite is my own Heavenly Choir which has been augmented over the eons by some very talented musicians from now and then and here and there. I have always appreciated the earnest praise from all choirs and have developed selective hearing in self defense.


5. Is there one true religion? 
 

Yes and so are all of the rest.



Then God giggled and the interview was over.

Blogger won't let me import pictures.  No idea how to get around that, dang it.


So will maunder about most recent medical perplexities.  Had routine labs drawn at CVH, got hot phone call before I even got home, TAKE EXTRA POTASSIUM, recheck blood next day.  Gulped down three pills that day and three pills since.  Must be okey dokey, no panic value phone calls. Yah!!


I visit my eye doctor on the 6th. Pretty sure I will be getting a huge change in prescription if not a referral for cataract surgery.  Things are all blurry.  Takes a long time to focus.  Unfortunately I cannot enlarge my font on this particular screen, so I could by typing crap.  I have been trying to blame all my typo's on auto correct, but that will only excuse close calls.  All the walls are wavy and my parking is not straight, even when I think I am parking straight, nopey.


Oh and yesterday, was struck down by the most exquisite right ankle pain I have ever felt. Took a couple of Alleve in the hopes that is either an arthritic joint flare or an episode of gout.  On a scale of 1 to 10 yesterday was a good solid 8. Today it's down to a manageable 2.  Am keeping the cane on standby in case I have to make any sudden (for me) movement.  I sucks getting old and I am thankful it doesn't hurt as bad as yesterday. 


So, look both ways before crossing anything.

CBS SUNDAY MORNING.

SUNDAY MORNING (CBS) March 8, 2015:

There were several reports this morning and I won't cover all of them, just the ones that were particularly moving, amusing, astounding.



DOPPELGANGERS: A famous photographer (Forgot his name already) was being interviewed because he has been locating and photographing people. The piece opened with some of his pictures, all twins. Oh, so this about twins. Ok. Well the people in the photographs are not twins, not related, they just look like each other, Doppelgangers. They interviewed three or four sets; the one most striking were the two blond women who were blond, heavy set, short thick necks, same eyes, face, height and separate unrelated parents. The gentleman will be publishing this photographic project in a book soon. I really want to pre-order that on Amazon. I also got to thinking about all these look-a-likes and wondered if the entire race on earth is starting to become homogenized so that similar DNA types pop up more frequently until we have evolved to look basically like our neighbors. And I do wonder if there is another Royce somewhere. I don't know if I could stand her.



CARL REINER: He is going on 93. His career came into prominence on The Show of Shows. They aired one bit; he was interviewing Mel Brooks who was the 2,000 year old man. Carl asked him if they practiced polygamy. Mel replied, "No I was perfect". Next question was how many wives did he have. Mel replied that he had seven wives. Well how was that? Oh, it was terrible!! When I came home from work, I heard "You're late for supper, supper, supper, supper, supper, supper, supper!" I screamed in laughter, I had never heard that one before.



HAMILTON: This one was a bit astounding. An actor/author (sorry short term memory, no name) has written a play about Alexander Hamilton and the dialog is all in Rap, Hip Hop. Ugh, not my favorite song genre. However, the story is quite wonderful and after a bit I started nodding my head in time with the rapsters and it was all cool, very cool. Now the show has been off Broadway and is soon to debut ON Broadway. As I will likely never go to New York in particular for a Broadway show, I sure would like to pre-order the DVD on Amazon. 
 

DAISY A DAY: There was a piece from On The Road. Two park workers in Fond Du Lac Wisconsin had started clearing the snowy path in a park when they noticed a senior citizen sitting in his car unable to get out because of the snow bank. The park had a bench at the end of the walk way with a picture of a woman on the bench. The gentleman comes to that bench each day to leave a daisy in memory of his wife and sings her favorite song, "I'll Bring You a Daisy a Day, Dear". Big Sniff.



SELMA: President Obama gave his speech at the rally and it was quite impressive, speaking in past, present and future phrasing with his distinctive soft/hard S sound. There was none of his famous hesitation before almost every word as he thinks to say the appropriate word. Well done, my Speech class teacher would have been proud.



MONARCH BUTTERFLYS: A man in Nebraska has let 44 acres of his farm land go unplanted with the local commercial crops. He has allowed native plants, grasses and flowers to grow, especially skunk week. He has done this in response to aid the annual migration of these beautiful insects. Hooray for entomology.



The program closed with a silent picture of nature as usual. It was a Snowy Owl. Very pretty.

WEEKEND EDITION AND DAD'S THUMB, TWO COMPLETELY UNRELATED STORIES!!

Saturday March 7, 2015  



Ahhhhh Saturday the day I usually lie in bed an extra hour and listen to NPR Weekend Edition with Scott Simon.
 This morning I woke to Dame Edna being interviewed and she was telling bits and pieces and one was that "Do you know what Crow's Feet are? My mother used to say that they were the dried beds of smiles" Awwwwwwwwww. Her next story was about her cosmetic surgery. Her surgeon looked her over and recommended that she needed to have a sweet little double chin. He took out an object from the freezer wrapped in Cling wrap. She wanted to know what it was, he told her it was Elizabeth Taylor's love handle. (Hardy har har har). And if you looked carefully there are some shallow indentations which were Richard Burtons finger prints. (Hardy har har har!)



Old Mystery Solved: I was thinking about dad and his thumb. When we were kids with asked him how come his thumb got cut off. He replied, "This is what happens when you suck your thumb". Oooooooh. 


Years and years later when I worked for Walter Knox Memorial Hospital, I would occasionally have to go over to the basement of the old hospital (Mary Secor) for microfilmed records. Sounds like a Catholic hospital doesn't it? Our Lady of Mary Secor. Um no, the doctor who build the hospital named the facility after his mother. 


Anyway I began the rather tedious process of bringing the old microfilmed records to the medical record department and putting them into microfiche jackets. They were microfilmed by year in no particular order, so I had to view each record and find the name so I could record on a log in order to retrieve it more easily if the record was ever needed. 
 
Surprise! Surprise! I found an old medical record for dad. It was when he injured his thumb. He was treated and released and the cost was $37.00. I told him I had found his old medical record and he explained for the very first time, I think, that he had been working at one of the Little's homes (Prominent local family). I think he said he was up on the roof, had an accident, smashed or cut this thumb. He was taken to the hospital. When it was all done he walked to his father's house and that was the end of his day.



Additional note: The old Mary Secor hospital was built on the same grounds as the Emmett Stables. So when people snort "Were you born in a barn!?" I can reply, "Nope in a stable!".

This what you get when you think about deviant sex on Friday the Thirteenth....

Today I am going to talk about BDSM (Bondage, Dominance, Submission, Masochism).. sort of. I listened to an NRP review this morning of 50 Shades of Gray the book versus the movie. Basically NPR gave top billing to the movie. Huh. I do not plan on viewing the movie nor reading the book. The subject has been covered extremely well by other authors who just did not hit the movie jackpot as follows.


Women's romance literature contains all sorts of subgenre regarding not only time travel, sci-fi, alien slavery/abduction, shape shifters of all flavors and the sexual preferences of the many amongst this list. I have read these stories in the past and just didn't get it. What the hell is so wonderful about being tied up, blind folded and beaten with paddles, whips, chains, ropes etc.


Now I understand that there is some sort of sexual titillation involved but I did not understand the relationship dynamics until I read a shape shifter story set in the Northwest. In the Cascadia Wolves series, Lauren Dane writes about a very strong wolf pack/family group. The alpha, beta, etc ranking of the wolves and their fairly high libidos. Okay. This was all normal sexy writing until I read the book Wolf Unbound. This was my well defined introduction into the world of dominance and submission. I only actually got it when I realized that the female wolf, Tegan, was a sub who could literally rip off anyone's head by strength along and her willing submission to a human male who dominated her to the point that she went easily into subspace. 


Her Dom, had the power to bind and pleasure her through masterful and carefully administered pain. She allowed him to dominate her without wanting to literally kill him once the blindfold and hand cuffs came off. It is not a life style that I would choose. I cannot imagine the level of trust that would be needed to involve oneself in such a vulnerable undertaking. AND the stories have the added benefit of actually having a story line that involves a take over of the entire Wolf shifter nation by a Mafia style rogue wolf and an outright war while trying to keep the human nation from being overly involved. The whole series is an excellent read that may leave you scratching your head or even having an "Ah Hah" moment as in "I never knew THAT!?"


I Facebook and have friended a few of my favorite authors. Some of the discussion that has come up involved writing sex scenes. The general consensus seems to be that sex scenes are a necessary evil, so just write 'em. And how many ways can you describe the sex between your characters without actually repeating yourself. One of my favorite authors, Viola Grace, blogged tongue firmly in cheek that when she writes her sex scenes she often envisions herself as she is typing, holding her fingers in her ears chanting "I can't hear youuuuuuuuuu.". The image cracked me up and I would have snorted milk out of my nose if I had had milk in hand.
 
Now on to something slightly different. There are now some of my favorite books being offered on audible books, so I have listened to a sample and thank goodness for the ability to listen to a sample. Because the female narrator was swishing along so fast that she was out of breath by the end of the sentence. Not good. Redo. May I suggest David Green  (see picture below) of NPR Morning Edition. He has a great voice and I would listen to him and pay for the privilege. Or maybe Audible Books would let us pick the narrator, that might be more fun and um relaxing....yeah that's right RELAXING......snort.

Couple thousand years ago, Cato the Elder spoke in the Roman Senate. He was known for "Cathago Delenda Est". Carthage Must Be Destroyed. Forward to the present day. ISIS Delenda Est. ISIS must be destroyed. Wipe them from the face of the earth. This is not about religion in any way, shape or form. Punch their ticket straight to Paradise. Let Allah sort them out.

Very odd dream: I think I was working for a publishing house and one of my assignments was to find an image or sketch of the head of a man. This image was going to be used in an important news piece and I needed to come up with something quick. There were people standing around making frantic suggestions. I finally found a picture of what appeared to be Clint Eastwood confessing to some damn thing. So I quickly sketched in the outline of his head and hair, his very large white rimmed eye glasses, nose, open mouth and chin. It didn't look bad for a hasty sketch in black and white. Then I woke up to NRP and the daily news and the now winter storm predicting heavy rain and wind on the coast. Let me see what would I ask the dream interpretation web site; drawing, a portrait, maybe...

Drawing

To dream that you are drawing represents an expression of your latent artistic abilities. You need to show more of your creativity in your waking life. Alternatively, the dream may be a pun on a "draw" to mean a tie or some undecided decision or argument. "It's a draw."

Um okay, maybe I should take up art of some sort. There is an art studio on Highway 42 just outside of town going towards Myrtle Point, maybe...

Also I watched a fascinating piece on Oregon Art Beat last night about John Simpkins, an artist living in Harney county in a ghost town for the past three years, I really admired the colors and some of the images he was painting. He said that he traveled and when in Tibet he decided that if he could find someplace like Tibet that wasn't too far from civilization, he would move there. Safeway is that-a-way about 150 miles from the ghost town of Andrew.

Picture

To see a picture in your dream symbolizes a mental imprint that remains persistent in your mind. Your actions are irreversible. There is no turning back in what you do. Also consider the phrases "picture this" or "seeing the big picture" in a situation. In particular, if the picture is in black and white picture, then it indicates that you need to consider opposing viewpoints. Alternatively, it may mean that you need to add more color and pizzazz to your life.

Drawing

To dream that you are drawing represents an expression of your latent artistic abilities. You need to show more of your creativity in your waking life. Alternatively, the dream may be a pun on a "draw" to mean a tie or some undecided decision or argument. "It's a draw."

Um okay, maybe I should take up art of some sort. There is an art studio on Highway 42 just outside of town going towards Myrtle Point, maybe...

Also I watched a fascinating piece on Oregon Art Beat last night about John Simpkins, an artist living in Harney county in a ghost town for the past three years, I really admired the colors and some of the images he was painting.

I am quite unhappy that I cannot technically import one of the artists pictures, I encourage you to Google John Simpkins work.  Enjoy. 

Regencies, Cleopatra After Actium", The Vicar of Wakefield and Lucullan feast.

Yesterday I downloaded an E-book entitled "Petticoat Rebellion" By Joan Smith.  It was a lovely light fluffy Regency with the usual handsome rake/Duke, a schoolmistress chaperoning four teenagers at a house party, a theft, the mandatory misunderstanding between lovers and a kidnapping.  The usual.  One of the characters, Lady Penfel was the Dukes Aunt.  She was quite a quiz as they say in the Regencies.  She is enjoying her widowhood by wearing costumes that resemble an aging light skirt and her hair, once auburn, is now  somewhat augmented to a frizzy rouge to match her raddled face.  Part of the plot involves the schoolmistress, Miss Addie Fairchild's wish to review the estates Da Vinci portfolio which is under lock and key. Once Lady Penfel determined Addie was an artist she insisted that Addie do her portrait as in the fashion of "After Actium". With her dog Cuddles at her feet instead of a lion.  The picture was described as Cleopatra resting after the battle of Actium, gazing off into the distance amongst her dying soldiers.  The mental picture of this caught my imagination so I Googled the title.  I did not find "After Actium" but I found something that looked similar to what was described in the book but this was entitled, "Cleopatra testing poison on condemned prisoners". (see above)  Ahhh, uh huh.  and she had a leopard at her feet. Back to the book, the thievery got solved, the kidnapping got solved and the portraiture was put off until after the Duke married the Schoolmistress.


I have gone off to find other things that caught my interest in books before.  Once after reading "Little Women"  I decided to get a copy of the Vicar of Wakefield to see what the hubbub was all about, why did Aunt March give Jo such a hard time for reading The Vicar.  Was it considered trash or what?  So I eventually found a copy and managed with much effort to read the thing.  I couldn't figure out what was so objectionable about this book in 1865.  The only thing I got out of it was that part of the plot involved the Vicar having to do to debtors prison and while there he converted a few inmates to Christianity and the Vicar was a well liked fellow.  Ok.  Of the other literary references in Little Women about Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan I have never read.  So.


This then reminded me of a phrase that has haunted me since the late sixties.  I once went with my friend, Judy to apply for a job at the post office.  We had to take a test.  I distinctly remember one of the questions.  I had to choose the definition of a Lucullan Feast.  (A person who has not had a classical education would not get this correct...duh).  So I remember choosing the answer that the Lucullan Feast happened when the troll ate your feet when you slept in his bed overnight, or something very similar to that. And I was wrong, wrong, wrong.  But the Internet did not exist then and I would have had no idea where to start looking.  So periodically and more lazily, I would think of Lucullan Feast as the years passed.   One time I heard the phrase Lucullan Feast on television but it turned out that was the name of a cookery story somewhere in New Orleans.  Hmph, not much help there. A decade or so later, I became acquainted with a columnist who lived in the Northwest, somehow the topic of Lucullan Feast came up and he told me all about it. In short, Lucullus was a famous Roman general who held fabulous parties with gourmet food.  He was said to dine the best when he dined alone.  So, had the internet existed prior to 1965, I would probably have passed the Post Office test and be retired from the postal service even as we speak.  Ain't life strange?

2014 Bulwer Lytton contents, Sorry it kind of got away from me but enjoy!

Link to Bulwer Lytton 2014 winners. Prepare to laugh, cry, gag and wet your pants. Please.

http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CB4QFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.bulwer-lytton.com%2F2014win.html&ei=SArJVLvfAcrfoATtwYDYDQ&usg=AFQjCNG2GeCJmqStc-_N1vyNSQS0GT4uqQ&sig2=WY88CGxns_3QmmOsdJbzSQ&bvm=bv.84607526,d.cGU

Blogger won't pick up my picture of a big fat white duck! DUCK!

DUCKY DREAM:

Last night I dreamt a very domestic dream. I was in a house, cleaning I think, and there was family there, none of who I recognized. At one point I was looking out the bathroom window that overlooked a nearby good sized creek. I could see dozens of little yellow ducklings being herded hither and yon by their very large white duck parents. I also saw two rather large ducks floating in mid air. They were scooping ducklings out of the air into their mouths sort of like some fish species who suck their tiny fry inside their mouths at times of danger. I couldn't see the ducklings inside because the mouth was screened with a white cloth like device that irised open and closed. It was very odd looking into the gullet of the larger ducks.
 

Dream site interpretation:

Duck

To see ducks in your dream represent your spiritual freedom (if flying) or the subconscious (if swimming). They serve as a connection between the spiritual realm and the physical world. Ducks are multi-talented animals in that they can walk, swim and fly. Thus, a duck indicates your flexibility and your ability to blend and adapt in various situations. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you are setting yourself up or being set up for the kill as associated by the phrase "sitting duck". Are you being targeted? Also, the duck may be a pun on "ducking" some issue or situation, instead of confronting it head-on. Consider the phrase, "if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it's a duck". Some things are too obvious to deny.  (Thank you Dan Rather.)

To see a white duck in your dream signifies falsehood and deceit.

I will have to sleep on this one...Hah! SLEEP she says.


Curiously enough there was no culinary interpretation.  I ate duck once many years ago.   The then husband had gone duck hunting and brought back many dark oily ducks.  I may have eaten a bit but I really don't remember actually cooking the thing.  Now having watched many years of Food Network I would willingly try some rare duck fried in duck fat.  I came close in my youth, a young man I was dating took me to a pub and asked me what I wanted and so he ordered Cold Duck, it wasn't until we left that I realized belatedly that I had DRANK the cold duck not eaten any.  Hoo boy!  One of my many tales of innocent and ignorance.  Ah me.....

Networking.

TELEVISION LAND:

Admittedly I do not watch much network television. Lately I have been catching myself watching Big Bang Theory. I googled the cast members professional pictures versus their character pictures. My what a difference a little make up makes.

I was curious as to what Ms Amy looks like. She is the criminally smart neurologist.

The actress' working name is Mayin Bialik. She is rather striking looking and manages to project a great deal of devoted neuro-geekness in her role.

I have also peeked at the other cast members and they ALL improve with glam photographs. Hooray for make up artists and superior camera work.
See, she could get away with walking around outside without being recognized by the paparazzi. But if she puts on glasses and an ugly sweater, she is toast!!

I think I may be over medicated.

 

Very strange dream: Last night I dreamed of Mom, a Mom that I certainly never knew. She was dressed in a dark blue power suit and held some sort of important job. She had called me in to tell me that I was not her oldest daughter. There was another oldest sibling. Hmm, I knew she had a wild streak as a youngster when, as a teenager, she confided that she had stolen ten pounds of sugar during WWII and deposited it in her mother's kitchen. Don't know the sex of the sibling, doesn't matter. Still shocking to think of a possibility and Lordy Lordy where did my mind come up with that!?!?!

 

Also was attending a conference in a very crowded hotel. The venue had multiple stories, many levels and a few secret doorways. Also as I was leaving to catch a plane home, Monica K my old boss in Barrow was there in the airport waiting area. She asked me to save her a seat, she would be right back. The area immediately filled up with a lot of men who seemed to want to take that seat, so I hovered over it determined to save at least the seat next to me. The men were very interested in a football locker room sort of manner. Ew.

Will query Mom at dream interpretation site to see what mundane thing that has cropped up inside my head.

Mother

 

 

To see your mother in your dream represents the nurturing aspect of your own character. Mothers offer shelter, comfort, life, guidance and protection. Some people may have problems freeing themselves from their mothers and are thus seeking their own individuality and development.

To dream that you are having a conversation with your mother denotes a matter that has preoccupied your mind and you are not sure how to deal with it in your waking life. It indicates unresolved problems that need to be worked out.

I'm gonna have to blame this on the apple/chilies/cheddar crust pie.....

 

Routine kinda....

 

Morning routine:

Every morning the radio comes on at 6 a.m. in my former life I leapt out of bed and began preparing for the work day. These days it is much the same but with a bit less urgency other than toiletry. Ahem.

I come back, make the bed, get dressed or not and go downstairs.

I then prepare breakfast, fill my meds up and sit at the computer and consume toast, bacon, cereal either cooked or flake, coffee is flavored or I drink Constant Comment tea. I allow the cats to lick the crumbs off my paper plate.

This morning I dragged out the vacuum, tipped over the lounger in the living room and hoovered up all the debris under the chair. I picked up 60 cents in change and stored that in an empty pill bottle and put it in the National Bank of Grandma Horn's Old Butter Churn. I also got down on hands and knees with scrubby, soap, rag cleaned up numerous coffee stains from the carpet. Now it doesn't look so much like a hoarders reality show.

Got up, sighed, took my outer pants off and laboriously tugged the heavy duty warm tights like garment, persuading a good six inches of material to defy gravity and go higher to hold in the cellulite at the highest level possible. There may be some back sliding by the end of the day. Update; yeah, much black sliding to the point where I shucked them off...ah freedom.

Also went downtown to pick up a couple of prescriptions as well as supplies to make pie. I watched an episode of Unique Eats. There is a pie shop in San Francisco and one of their specialties is an apple pie with chilies and cheddar cheesy crust. Hmmm, that actually sounded kind of good. I purchased four Granny Smith apples, a small can of chopped green chilies, peel and stick pie crust. Peel and chop apples, open chilies, mix together, add 1 cup Splenda sugar ,1/2 tsp each of cinnamon, allspice and cumin. Put bottom crust in pie dish, sprinkle in shredded cheddar. Pour in apple chilie mixture, top with remaining pie crust, sprinkle on more cheddar, dab on mixture of milk and beaten, bake at 350 for one hour. Turned out pretty good. It was watery of course and I should have added some flour for thickening. Yum!! The heat factor is mild but tasty and the cheddar bits in the crust are excellent.