As someone who has been - out of necessity - practicing frugality for many years, Ms. Packratty is somewhat grumpy about the nouveau frugal. 'Scuse me - too many of these folks are being frugal now because over the last decade, while they were earning twice what I was, they were spending three times as much. And we're supposed to salute them for their bravery in going without sushi and designer vodka?
Well. As a long time frugal, whose wardrobe is mostly consignment, eBay and - when purchased retail - from stores like Marshall's, Ms. Packratty has a somewhat jaundiced view of the newly frugal. She strongly suspects that most of them will return to their wastrel ways at the first uptick in the economy. There are others who despite crowing about their frugal or green ways just amaze her by their inconsistency. Like recycling bathwater, but having a child who can walk and talk still using paper diapers?
Serious long term frugality does not need to be some pleasureless deathmarch, nor is it endless deprivation - in fact, Ms. P believes that's one of the fastest ways to fall off the wagon. Ms. P's version includes using a warehouse club like Sam's or Costco for things such as toilet paper. No, she does not buy the cheap stuff, she buys the good stuff. But she buys it in 4-6 month quantities for about the same price as buying the cheap stuff at the supermarket. This benefits the frugal in 2 ways - for one, you get the higher quality for the cheap price AND you don't have to think about TP or paper towels or X or Y or Z for months at a time. Even in a condo, Ms. P. manages to stash months worth of things that are non-perishable or household. Bargains come in the oddest places, too.
Does she bake her own bread? No - it's too much time out of a busy week and heats the house up too much in the summer. Sure there are times in the winter when a batch of no-knead bread or a hearty beef stew is the pip. But not in August.
The things that *aren't* frugal though - driving around in circles to use special coupons; buying brands we don't really like (hint - we won't use them if we don't like them), buying cheaply made clothing or shoes, those are the things to watch for.
Beyond that, Ms. Packratty recommends the public library for amusement. If you're new to watching your pennies, movie theatres and bookstores are not your friend. The library, unless your tastes are quite arcane and once you get over the compulsion to be up to the minute, can answer about 95% of your reading and viewing.
Oh, and the way to "save money over cable" is not to sign up for a dish or Netflix or some other scheme, but to break your addiction to the television - an addiction that pushes more things at you left, right and sideways.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
Beastly Hot
The heat continues to hover over us like a brass bowl. It's pleasant only very late at night or first thing in the morning, so Ms. Packratty has taken to dunking herself in the condo pool sometime between 9 p.m. and bedtime. It has a very nice cooling effect - temporary, but pleasant.
This weekend was an on-call weekend at work, so there wasn't much gadding around. Ms. P is still considering what to do about the ceiling fan in her bedroom - 10 days ago, she woke in the small hours, flipped on the light and discovered that the ceiling fan - oscillating wildly - was dangling over the bed, hanging by a single screw. Needless to say, it came down in a matter of minutes and certainly woke Ms. P right up. Now the decision is - new fan or just a light? The jury is still out.
Ms. P has decided to continue in the vegetable co-op program for the next quarter. Although there are selections that really don't please her from time to time, getting a sack of assorted fruits and vegetables every week has pushed the envelope a bit and prompted the consumption of more vegetables. The only problem now is that we have a lovely whack of yellow squash and it's too warm to want to fire up the oven for squash casserole. Ms. P was thinking that she would put the casserole together tonight, then pop it in the oven at 7 a.m. when she walks Charlie and then put it back in the fridge before work and just reheat in the nuker as needed. This past week's bag included some lovely blueberries and dumping a handful of these into a half a carton of vanilla yogurt was a tasty treat. The dead ripe cantaloupe - half of it - became breakfast this morning along with a banana - really a nice way to start a very warm Monday.
Packrattery progress has included the disposal of more junk and more detrashing. Our next project is to get some plastic and mothballs and roll up the 2 orientals and get them stuffed in the attic at Marleen's where she said they were welcome to stay until the floors were done. If the weather is dry next weekend, this is a substantially likely project. Then in October, I will be house sitting and I plan to take a couple of days off - or even half days which might work better - and varnish the stairs when I can sleep elsewhere and not have to use the stairs.
I am still trying to master my new phone and learn to take pictures with it, as the baby digital is dead and I am lurking on ebay trying to find a replacement at my price. Pictures to come.
This weekend was an on-call weekend at work, so there wasn't much gadding around. Ms. P is still considering what to do about the ceiling fan in her bedroom - 10 days ago, she woke in the small hours, flipped on the light and discovered that the ceiling fan - oscillating wildly - was dangling over the bed, hanging by a single screw. Needless to say, it came down in a matter of minutes and certainly woke Ms. P right up. Now the decision is - new fan or just a light? The jury is still out.
Ms. P has decided to continue in the vegetable co-op program for the next quarter. Although there are selections that really don't please her from time to time, getting a sack of assorted fruits and vegetables every week has pushed the envelope a bit and prompted the consumption of more vegetables. The only problem now is that we have a lovely whack of yellow squash and it's too warm to want to fire up the oven for squash casserole. Ms. P was thinking that she would put the casserole together tonight, then pop it in the oven at 7 a.m. when she walks Charlie and then put it back in the fridge before work and just reheat in the nuker as needed. This past week's bag included some lovely blueberries and dumping a handful of these into a half a carton of vanilla yogurt was a tasty treat. The dead ripe cantaloupe - half of it - became breakfast this morning along with a banana - really a nice way to start a very warm Monday.
Packrattery progress has included the disposal of more junk and more detrashing. Our next project is to get some plastic and mothballs and roll up the 2 orientals and get them stuffed in the attic at Marleen's where she said they were welcome to stay until the floors were done. If the weather is dry next weekend, this is a substantially likely project. Then in October, I will be house sitting and I plan to take a couple of days off - or even half days which might work better - and varnish the stairs when I can sleep elsewhere and not have to use the stairs.
I am still trying to master my new phone and learn to take pictures with it, as the baby digital is dead and I am lurking on ebay trying to find a replacement at my price. Pictures to come.
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Summertime Insomnia
It's hot here. Even inside, you can almost feel the heat outside pressing in like a large hairy animal. Ms. Packratty is not terribly fond of this type of heat, which seems to abate only in the late evenings and early morning hours after it rains and it is not raining nearly enough to suit.
One of the side effects is that Ms. Packratty is having a terrible bout of insomnia. The lying in bed almost asleep type (where every noise starts you wide awake) until about 3-4 a.m., when suddenly she is deeply asleep - only to have the verdammt alarm clock start chirping away. Ms. Packratty is reminded of a West Point cadet ditty sung on occasion by her PPU which goes "someday I'm going to murder the bugler". In Ms. Packratty's case, it will be the alarm clock which is slaughtered, but even so, it's self-punishment as she will then have to go out and buy a new one.
The current bout is 5 nights old - last night the sleep hourage made it to a little more then 4 hours with the help of some melatonin and a cup of Celestial Seasonings Sleepytime. No dinner seems to help a bit as then there is less of an issue with indigestion causing wakefulness. All in all, not a pleasant thing. Ms. Packratty has exactly one sleeping pill left from her last prescription and is loathe to use it except in an utter emergency.
In other news, when it is hot outside and since the Packratty budget does not extend to lowering the temperature of Chez Packrat below about 78 degrees, it's time to sit still and read a lot. The current and/or recent reading menu has included:
By heresies distressed - David Weber. SciFi and while not as engrossing as the Honorverse, still a good read.
Dancing to the precipice : the life of Lucie de la Tour du Pin - Caroline Moorehead. A bio of a woman whose life intersects with the French Revolution.
We band of angels : the untold story of American nurses trapped on Bataan by the Japanese - Elizabeth Norman A look at a group of servicewomen who have largely been forgotten, but whose courage and endurance were beyond question.
Four seasons in Rome : on twins, insomnia, and the biggest funeral in the history of the world - Anthony Doerr I always like to read about Italy and Rome, but this account of a year in Rome underwritten by a foundation for artists of various sorts, recounts more a year that seems subsumed by coping with twin children in a foreign land. I can't recommend it as much as I can others, such as "Extra Virgin".
I've also read several books recently about the plight of women in the Mohammedan world and find myself depressed by the fact that almost none of them reject Mohammedanism as the root cause of their oppression, preferring instead to claim (despite the prevalence of female oppression in conjunction with a Mohammedan majority/government) that somehow, Mohammedanism is not to blame for the excesses committed by its adherents. Yeah. Right.
There has been little reading and only a little bookbinding going. Ms. P is varnishing two pieces of oak plank to serve as pressing boards to supplement the little finishing press that she made with the help of Marleen's Joe last month. Pictures to come.
One of the side effects is that Ms. Packratty is having a terrible bout of insomnia. The lying in bed almost asleep type (where every noise starts you wide awake) until about 3-4 a.m., when suddenly she is deeply asleep - only to have the verdammt alarm clock start chirping away. Ms. Packratty is reminded of a West Point cadet ditty sung on occasion by her PPU which goes "someday I'm going to murder the bugler". In Ms. Packratty's case, it will be the alarm clock which is slaughtered, but even so, it's self-punishment as she will then have to go out and buy a new one.
The current bout is 5 nights old - last night the sleep hourage made it to a little more then 4 hours with the help of some melatonin and a cup of Celestial Seasonings Sleepytime. No dinner seems to help a bit as then there is less of an issue with indigestion causing wakefulness. All in all, not a pleasant thing. Ms. Packratty has exactly one sleeping pill left from her last prescription and is loathe to use it except in an utter emergency.
In other news, when it is hot outside and since the Packratty budget does not extend to lowering the temperature of Chez Packrat below about 78 degrees, it's time to sit still and read a lot. The current and/or recent reading menu has included:
By heresies distressed - David Weber. SciFi and while not as engrossing as the Honorverse, still a good read.
Dancing to the precipice : the life of Lucie de la Tour du Pin - Caroline Moorehead. A bio of a woman whose life intersects with the French Revolution.
We band of angels : the untold story of American nurses trapped on Bataan by the Japanese - Elizabeth Norman A look at a group of servicewomen who have largely been forgotten, but whose courage and endurance were beyond question.
Four seasons in Rome : on twins, insomnia, and the biggest funeral in the history of the world - Anthony Doerr I always like to read about Italy and Rome, but this account of a year in Rome underwritten by a foundation for artists of various sorts, recounts more a year that seems subsumed by coping with twin children in a foreign land. I can't recommend it as much as I can others, such as "Extra Virgin".
I've also read several books recently about the plight of women in the Mohammedan world and find myself depressed by the fact that almost none of them reject Mohammedanism as the root cause of their oppression, preferring instead to claim (despite the prevalence of female oppression in conjunction with a Mohammedan majority/government) that somehow, Mohammedanism is not to blame for the excesses committed by its adherents. Yeah. Right.
There has been little reading and only a little bookbinding going. Ms. P is varnishing two pieces of oak plank to serve as pressing boards to supplement the little finishing press that she made with the help of Marleen's Joe last month. Pictures to come.
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Friday, July 10, 2009
Bookbinding - Belated Update
I went to Manhattan on June 19th to take a class in repairing clothbound books at the Center for Book Arts . I was fortunate enough to secure a room at a Greenwich Village guest house that was safe, clean and relatively convenient as well as being extraordinarily affordable. Although the bathroom was across the hall, I was the only guest in the three rooms that would be using it, so it was entirely unobjectionable. The room was at the back of the house, so between that and the air conditioner's hum, it was as quiet as my home in Atlanta.
I left my house early on the 19th, dropping Charlie off at Marleen's house for boarding. As always, Mr. Wiggles was very happy to see all of his terrier chums and barely noticed my departure. I MARTAed to the airport and queued up to get a boarding pass. Other than the semantically questionable policy of calling the first checked bag "excess baggage" and levying a $15 fee, I find I much prefer AirTran. Needless to say, since I was schlepping my bookbinding kit to NY, I could not do the carryon thing - bookbinders use a multitude of sharp and pointy things.
The problem with charging for checked bags is this - people will do insane things to avoid a $15 charge including dragging on bags that are well above a reasonable size for stowage. And the airlines don't screen hard enough for the size or the number of bags. On both legs, I observed people with a carryon bag and 2 or more other carried items and the rule is supposed to be one carryon plus a purse or briefcase or similar.
However, I did manage to get to the airport early enough to get myself on an earlier flight, thereby buying myself an arrival about an hour and 15 minutes earlier. Once on the ground at LaGuardia, I got my MetroPass, caught the Q33 into Queens and then the F train into the city. I was pleasantly surprised at the relative cleanliness of the subway vis a vis my last extended use of it. It does not smell like a portapotty in the sun, although grub and grime are still a constant. Of course, given how grubby MARTA stations have gotten under a much smaller passenger load, it's no wonder the MTA can't keep up. I KIP-ped in public on the train, with a few people openly watching the yarn and the sock-in-progress. Enjoyed eavesdropping on various conversations. Yeah, I'm still slowly grinding away on the darned near laceweight silk/cashmere/merino socks for a certain uncle.
OK, so my first stop in the city was Orchard Bra & Corset - many years ago, they introduced me to underwires and proper bra fittings and I always try to go back there when i have a chance. It's down on the Lower East Side in a very tiny little store with stacked boxes to the ceiling, Orthodox proprietors with encyclopedic knowledge of their stock and an unerring ability to a.> size the girls and b.> determine which model bra will best suit one's dependents. Not only that, but the very highend bra she fitted me in was on half price. I was thrilled. Then on to Chinatown and Little Italy, where I was first swarmed by the touts for knockoff purses and then came to rest at DiPalo's where I successfully ordered the yeast I wanted. Hurrah.
Then it was off the the guesthouse to check in and get settled. Footsore and dragging the increasingly weighty suitcase, I made it to one of the greenest, leafiest bits of the Village and up the super-steep stairs of the brownstone and to my rooms, which, as mentioned, was spare, quiet and cool. I ripped into my suitcase, took a fast shower and changed into jeans and nipped down the street and around the corner to get some mineral water, which I then started chugging. I intended a short nap before meeting my goddaughter Pamela for dinner, but the phone rang with a call from Atlanta and I ended up with a 45 minute catnap.
Right on time, Pamela came in on the PATH train from New jersey. I met her at the Christopher Street station and we strolled a couple of blocks to Malatesta which had been recommended to me. We had a terrific Italian dinner, sitting out in the soft summer air and catching up. She seems to be coming back from the stress of her Dad's long illness and death. Food and wine and then a long walk around looking for a gelato place, only to discover finally that we had ignored it twice - it was across the street from where we were looking. Evening complete with a gay rights march. Back to the guest house and out like a light. Up early, but not early enough the next morning. Even without Charlie to walk and so forth, getting showered and dressed in a new place and then navigating the subways to Broadway and 27th was a time hog. No breakfast .... Hail Starbucks.
The class was astonishingly good. The instructor, Sophia Kramer, is a conservator at the Metropolitan and her knowledge is encyclopedic and perfectionist. I realized I had gotten some very bad habits at the Atlanta Printmakers Studio class where we had no lying or finishing presses to use. It furthered my desire to not do any other classes there until they bother to get at least minimal equipment. The fact that they are so poorly equipped, but charge almost as much per class as CBA is part of it, plus it was clear that the APS instructor was not getting even half of the tuition. And when you couple that with the physical condition of the APS facility, where the class nearly froze a couple of nights vs the space at CBA which has to be vastly more expensive in terms of rent ... One book press (rusty) and no finish or lying presses and no board cutter. Using a board cutter was such a pleasure after all of the hacking with razor knives trying to get squared corners.
Anyway, after class ended Saturday, I ran one more errand and then marched to the NYU area on the East Side and met Lynette Kanode Frey and her Sarah and Peter for dinner at a Japanese restaurant. Darling children. Lynette is herself, as always. And then back to the guesthouse in a taxi and waving goodbye in the rain.
Up on Sunday before 8 and showered and packed and headed back out. Dragging suitcase behind, I assessed the condition of my feet and chickened out and took a cab. Got to the center swiftly and circled the block to find the Antique Cafe where at 8:30 they opened the doors and I got breakfast. I was dehydrated and starting to feel icky, but chugalugged a whole bottle of San Pelli water and ate a very nice breakfast and then went on to the second day of class. The second day was equally as enlightening as the first, although I realized about 2 p.m. that I was not feeling well at all. Packed up at 4 and changed into travelling clothes and headed back to the airport - trip complete with suitcase handle breaking, but finally arrived at LaGuardia and then started the waiting. Not enough seats in departure area so I stood for an hour. Then sat and waited and waited through a rain delay.
Got in the air finally and made great time to Atlanta, but then I think my luggage caught a later flight. Then an endless wait for a northbound MARTA train, then a wait at Lindbergh to change to a Sandy Springs-bound train. During which I lost my Breeze card, which still had about 8 fares left, dammit. It was nearly 1 a.m. when I got in my car. Nine hours in transit of which only about 2 were spent actually taking off/flying/landing.
Got home, crawled in the house, drank another quart of water, said hello to the cat and collapsed. When morning came, it brought a nice fever, which took me to the doctor and led to prescriptions and an entire week of work lost to strep throat. I had planned the trip to use only 1 1/2 days of vacation - instead, with strep added, it gobbled 8. Grrr. Poor Mr. Wiggles ended up staying at Marleen's house until Thursday. He didn't seem to mind - was glad to see me as always, but I don't think he knew he'd been there 4 extra days.
However, the bookbinding class really was worth the time, effort and expense.
More on bookbinding later because 3 weeks + later, I am just now getting over the nagging cough left behind.
I left my house early on the 19th, dropping Charlie off at Marleen's house for boarding. As always, Mr. Wiggles was very happy to see all of his terrier chums and barely noticed my departure. I MARTAed to the airport and queued up to get a boarding pass. Other than the semantically questionable policy of calling the first checked bag "excess baggage" and levying a $15 fee, I find I much prefer AirTran. Needless to say, since I was schlepping my bookbinding kit to NY, I could not do the carryon thing - bookbinders use a multitude of sharp and pointy things.
The problem with charging for checked bags is this - people will do insane things to avoid a $15 charge including dragging on bags that are well above a reasonable size for stowage. And the airlines don't screen hard enough for the size or the number of bags. On both legs, I observed people with a carryon bag and 2 or more other carried items and the rule is supposed to be one carryon plus a purse or briefcase or similar.
However, I did manage to get to the airport early enough to get myself on an earlier flight, thereby buying myself an arrival about an hour and 15 minutes earlier. Once on the ground at LaGuardia, I got my MetroPass, caught the Q33 into Queens and then the F train into the city. I was pleasantly surprised at the relative cleanliness of the subway vis a vis my last extended use of it. It does not smell like a portapotty in the sun, although grub and grime are still a constant. Of course, given how grubby MARTA stations have gotten under a much smaller passenger load, it's no wonder the MTA can't keep up. I KIP-ped in public on the train, with a few people openly watching the yarn and the sock-in-progress. Enjoyed eavesdropping on various conversations. Yeah, I'm still slowly grinding away on the darned near laceweight silk/cashmere/merino socks for a certain uncle.
OK, so my first stop in the city was Orchard Bra & Corset - many years ago, they introduced me to underwires and proper bra fittings and I always try to go back there when i have a chance. It's down on the Lower East Side in a very tiny little store with stacked boxes to the ceiling, Orthodox proprietors with encyclopedic knowledge of their stock and an unerring ability to a.> size the girls and b.> determine which model bra will best suit one's dependents. Not only that, but the very highend bra she fitted me in was on half price. I was thrilled. Then on to Chinatown and Little Italy, where I was first swarmed by the touts for knockoff purses and then came to rest at DiPalo's where I successfully ordered the yeast I wanted. Hurrah.
Then it was off the the guesthouse to check in and get settled. Footsore and dragging the increasingly weighty suitcase, I made it to one of the greenest, leafiest bits of the Village and up the super-steep stairs of the brownstone and to my rooms, which, as mentioned, was spare, quiet and cool. I ripped into my suitcase, took a fast shower and changed into jeans and nipped down the street and around the corner to get some mineral water, which I then started chugging. I intended a short nap before meeting my goddaughter Pamela for dinner, but the phone rang with a call from Atlanta and I ended up with a 45 minute catnap.
Right on time, Pamela came in on the PATH train from New jersey. I met her at the Christopher Street station and we strolled a couple of blocks to Malatesta which had been recommended to me. We had a terrific Italian dinner, sitting out in the soft summer air and catching up. She seems to be coming back from the stress of her Dad's long illness and death. Food and wine and then a long walk around looking for a gelato place, only to discover finally that we had ignored it twice - it was across the street from where we were looking. Evening complete with a gay rights march. Back to the guest house and out like a light. Up early, but not early enough the next morning. Even without Charlie to walk and so forth, getting showered and dressed in a new place and then navigating the subways to Broadway and 27th was a time hog. No breakfast .... Hail Starbucks.
The class was astonishingly good. The instructor, Sophia Kramer, is a conservator at the Metropolitan and her knowledge is encyclopedic and perfectionist. I realized I had gotten some very bad habits at the Atlanta Printmakers Studio class where we had no lying or finishing presses to use. It furthered my desire to not do any other classes there until they bother to get at least minimal equipment. The fact that they are so poorly equipped, but charge almost as much per class as CBA is part of it, plus it was clear that the APS instructor was not getting even half of the tuition. And when you couple that with the physical condition of the APS facility, where the class nearly froze a couple of nights vs the space at CBA which has to be vastly more expensive in terms of rent ... One book press (rusty) and no finish or lying presses and no board cutter. Using a board cutter was such a pleasure after all of the hacking with razor knives trying to get squared corners.
Anyway, after class ended Saturday, I ran one more errand and then marched to the NYU area on the East Side and met Lynette Kanode Frey and her Sarah and Peter for dinner at a Japanese restaurant. Darling children. Lynette is herself, as always. And then back to the guesthouse in a taxi and waving goodbye in the rain.
Up on Sunday before 8 and showered and packed and headed back out. Dragging suitcase behind, I assessed the condition of my feet and chickened out and took a cab. Got to the center swiftly and circled the block to find the Antique Cafe where at 8:30 they opened the doors and I got breakfast. I was dehydrated and starting to feel icky, but chugalugged a whole bottle of San Pelli water and ate a very nice breakfast and then went on to the second day of class. The second day was equally as enlightening as the first, although I realized about 2 p.m. that I was not feeling well at all. Packed up at 4 and changed into travelling clothes and headed back to the airport - trip complete with suitcase handle breaking, but finally arrived at LaGuardia and then started the waiting. Not enough seats in departure area so I stood for an hour. Then sat and waited and waited through a rain delay.
Got in the air finally and made great time to Atlanta, but then I think my luggage caught a later flight. Then an endless wait for a northbound MARTA train, then a wait at Lindbergh to change to a Sandy Springs-bound train. During which I lost my Breeze card, which still had about 8 fares left, dammit. It was nearly 1 a.m. when I got in my car. Nine hours in transit of which only about 2 were spent actually taking off/flying/landing.
Got home, crawled in the house, drank another quart of water, said hello to the cat and collapsed. When morning came, it brought a nice fever, which took me to the doctor and led to prescriptions and an entire week of work lost to strep throat. I had planned the trip to use only 1 1/2 days of vacation - instead, with strep added, it gobbled 8. Grrr. Poor Mr. Wiggles ended up staying at Marleen's house until Thursday. He didn't seem to mind - was glad to see me as always, but I don't think he knew he'd been there 4 extra days.
However, the bookbinding class really was worth the time, effort and expense.
More on bookbinding later because 3 weeks + later, I am just now getting over the nagging cough left behind.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Treason Most Vile
Article III, Section 3.
Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort. No person shall be convicted of treason unless on the testimony of two witnesses to the same overt act, or on confession in open court.
A part of the Constitution that we need to start using - especially against the Mohammedan fifth-column - cases such as Hasan Akbar http://www.cnn.com/2003/WORLD/meast/03/22/sprj.irq.101.attack/index.html ; Abdulhakim Muhammad - the Arkansas shooter who attacked soldiers just because they were soldiers and Syed Haris Ahmed, 24-year-old former Georgia Tech student, convicted Tuesday of conspiring to provide material support to terrorists. During his trial last week, prosecutors introduced into evidence e-mails and Internet chats during which Ahmed said he wanted to engage in violent jihad.
These people turned their back on our culture and embraced the degenerate, violent and oppressive "ideals" of Mohammedanism. The first two surely do deserve to die and it is a shame that Akbar was prosecuted only for murder and equally shameful that he will be given a painless death by lethal injection. Akbar and Muhammed should both be hanged and the hanging should be televised nationally during primetime with a clear warning to other Mohammedans that if they wage violence against our country based on their degenerate religion that we will hang them too.
In the case of Ahmed - send the little bastard to prison and deport his entire family. And WHY should we deport his family? This is why -
Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort. No person shall be convicted of treason unless on the testimony of two witnesses to the same overt act, or on confession in open court.
A part of the Constitution that we need to start using - especially against the Mohammedan fifth-column - cases such as Hasan Akbar http://www.cnn.com/2003/WORLD/meast/03/22/sprj.irq.101.attack/index.html ; Abdulhakim Muhammad - the Arkansas shooter who attacked soldiers just because they were soldiers and Syed Haris Ahmed, 24-year-old former Georgia Tech student, convicted Tuesday of conspiring to provide material support to terrorists. During his trial last week, prosecutors introduced into evidence e-mails and Internet chats during which Ahmed said he wanted to engage in violent jihad.
These people turned their back on our culture and embraced the degenerate, violent and oppressive "ideals" of Mohammedanism. The first two surely do deserve to die and it is a shame that Akbar was prosecuted only for murder and equally shameful that he will be given a painless death by lethal injection. Akbar and Muhammed should both be hanged and the hanging should be televised nationally during primetime with a clear warning to other Mohammedans that if they wage violence against our country based on their degenerate religion that we will hang them too.
In the case of Ahmed - send the little bastard to prison and deport his entire family. And WHY should we deport his family? This is why -
His sister showed up in Islamofascistslavery garb in court. Why can't these people respect OUR culture?
“You think something and you’re guilty,” Syed Riaz Ahmed said, standing outside a federal courtroom shortly after hearing his son pronounced guilty. “He’s not guilty of any crimes in the eyes of Allah. He’s guilty of U.S. laws.”
Yes, he's guilty of violating US laws and if you don't understand, Mr. Syed, that that's more important here than your filthy religion, then you don't belong in this county.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Pitiful
Pathetic.
It’s the only word I can sum up to describe the deluded behavior of X who sat in Colorado, mostly unemployed while his mother died slowly an ocean and half a continent away. Apparently his pride was too overweening to allow him to go home, even to the point of not seeing his mother before she died. Hope that pride fits really well 10 years from now, X. Oh, and X? That “eulogy” you wrote for your mother’s memorial service? Well, kiddo, eulogies are supposed to talk about the dear departed, not about *you*. Although, looking at your behavior, your “eulogy” is perfectly in character. Delusional and totally self-centered.
What X doesn’t realize is that he’s probably lost his family along with his mother. There’s going to come a day, probably not too far down the road, when he is once again going to need help from his family and what they are going to remember is that he wasn’t there when things were bad. That he basically did a passive cut and run by not being a part of the family and putting himself and his wants ahead of his family. By sitting in Denver and binge drinking in the service of unpaid blogging while his mother died by inches. Yep, really things to be proud of. Meaningful.
X, there is not going to be any amnesty. You aren’t going to become an overnight success and “buy” your way into this country. Hopefully, you’ll be bright enough to leave before you get caught and deported and while there’s time to salvage something resembling a useful life out of the wreckage. If you keep going, you will shortly be a 35-year-old with bad teeth, living in some squalid rented room and yattering to yourself about how success and citizenship is right around the corner. Unfortunately, you’ve ended up a bit long in the tooth to be a boy wonder and you are fast slouching toward being just another loser with an unearned opinion of himself.
As for Y, who demanded a public apology from me for the private message in which I scolded X for his foolishness? You’ll die waiting. If for no other reason, than that your indignant message about being X’s emotional support proves that you are a barefaced liar, because you’d been insisting that you hadn’t been having much of any contact with him for months. Riddle me this, dearie – how do you emotionally support someone you aren’t in contact with?
It’s the only word I can sum up to describe the deluded behavior of X who sat in Colorado, mostly unemployed while his mother died slowly an ocean and half a continent away. Apparently his pride was too overweening to allow him to go home, even to the point of not seeing his mother before she died. Hope that pride fits really well 10 years from now, X. Oh, and X? That “eulogy” you wrote for your mother’s memorial service? Well, kiddo, eulogies are supposed to talk about the dear departed, not about *you*. Although, looking at your behavior, your “eulogy” is perfectly in character. Delusional and totally self-centered.
What X doesn’t realize is that he’s probably lost his family along with his mother. There’s going to come a day, probably not too far down the road, when he is once again going to need help from his family and what they are going to remember is that he wasn’t there when things were bad. That he basically did a passive cut and run by not being a part of the family and putting himself and his wants ahead of his family. By sitting in Denver and binge drinking in the service of unpaid blogging while his mother died by inches. Yep, really things to be proud of. Meaningful.
X, there is not going to be any amnesty. You aren’t going to become an overnight success and “buy” your way into this country. Hopefully, you’ll be bright enough to leave before you get caught and deported and while there’s time to salvage something resembling a useful life out of the wreckage. If you keep going, you will shortly be a 35-year-old with bad teeth, living in some squalid rented room and yattering to yourself about how success and citizenship is right around the corner. Unfortunately, you’ve ended up a bit long in the tooth to be a boy wonder and you are fast slouching toward being just another loser with an unearned opinion of himself.
As for Y, who demanded a public apology from me for the private message in which I scolded X for his foolishness? You’ll die waiting. If for no other reason, than that your indignant message about being X’s emotional support proves that you are a barefaced liar, because you’d been insisting that you hadn’t been having much of any contact with him for months. Riddle me this, dearie – how do you emotionally support someone you aren’t in contact with?
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
It's been a long year
It started with moving elderly relatives out of a house they had occupied for 35+ years. A summer and fall of chaos, chaos and more chaos, spending more weekends than not driving back and forth to South Carolina.
But it is done and while Ms. Packratty did her part, a certain sibling on the other end of the move did not. However, that is not Ms. Packratty's concern. Ms. Packratty did everything she committed to doing and more. If other people dropped the ball and the parties in the middle chose to overlook it, so be it.
There has not been much knitting. Mostly socks and other small projects and not much of that. Mainly been too busy, too tired, too frazzled to do much of anything.
Charlie is a good boy. We went to the beach again, but much of the week involved family, so it was NOT relaxing. We won't be doing that again unless we can have peace and quiet - I love my family, but when you work 50 weeks of the year under the pressure we do here, you need real decompression time and catering to fussy older relatives, cooking and cleaning and being criticized non-stop the whole while is NOT relaxing.
Christmas was pleasant and quiet and I had a lovely Christmas Eve with friends. I got to cook - veal marsala, mushroom risotto and asparagus, with Prosecco before dinner, a really nice Sangiovese with dinner and then grappa afterward.
And that was pretty much it for the rest of 2008 - a lot of work, a lot of sadness, some disappointment realizing that those relatives are not going to treat me the way that I want to be treated, or even as fairly as they always claimed they would. But overall, just another year.
More on the start of 2009 later .
But it is done and while Ms. Packratty did her part, a certain sibling on the other end of the move did not. However, that is not Ms. Packratty's concern. Ms. Packratty did everything she committed to doing and more. If other people dropped the ball and the parties in the middle chose to overlook it, so be it.
There has not been much knitting. Mostly socks and other small projects and not much of that. Mainly been too busy, too tired, too frazzled to do much of anything.
Charlie is a good boy. We went to the beach again, but much of the week involved family, so it was NOT relaxing. We won't be doing that again unless we can have peace and quiet - I love my family, but when you work 50 weeks of the year under the pressure we do here, you need real decompression time and catering to fussy older relatives, cooking and cleaning and being criticized non-stop the whole while is NOT relaxing.
Christmas was pleasant and quiet and I had a lovely Christmas Eve with friends. I got to cook - veal marsala, mushroom risotto and asparagus, with Prosecco before dinner, a really nice Sangiovese with dinner and then grappa afterward.
And that was pretty much it for the rest of 2008 - a lot of work, a lot of sadness, some disappointment realizing that those relatives are not going to treat me the way that I want to be treated, or even as fairly as they always claimed they would. But overall, just another year.
More on the start of 2009 later .
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Time to get cracking
OK, Ms. Packratty has been a lazy slug, but there has been a whole lot of ugly at work and many strenuous things happening at work and home.
First of all, work has been a seemingly endless successions of FUBARs. Not FUBARs that can be laid at the feet of yours truly, but FUBARs related to Ms. Packratty's unspeakable manager and other workplace morons as well as horrible things happening to a couple of co-workers. One of Ms Packratty's direct coworkers, with whome she shared the late shift, was diagnosed with advanced colon cancer and is only now slowing recovering from the first of at least 2 surgeries. A second coworker went into the hospital to remove a mass on his lung that was thought to be benign (non-smoker and all that) only to be dead within six weeks of advanced lung and bone cancer.
So things have been less than good at work. Plus there has been a lot of software changes and system updates, many of which have gone poorly.
Biggest news has been that my parents now have a dog, a delightful little Norwich from Marleen and they are moving to the DC area within the next few months to an apartment which will be much better for them than the split entry foyer house they are in now. However this means that Ms. Packratty's mother is proceeding to gift Ms. Packratty with more things than Ms. Packratty can presently accommodate. Books, china, clocks and artwork for the most part now, but larger things are coming. Room must be made; files must be emptied, closets consolidated.
With that said, Ms. Packratty is on a strict yarn diet for the rest of the year. Even though she is drooling over the Shorelines jacket, 2200 yards of what she wants to knit it in just won't make it into the budget. Budget you say? Well, there's a painting to be paid for and a HELOC that needs to be paid off ASAP. Plus all the normal bills.
So that's that.
On a health note, Ms. Packratty has been trekking to a farmer's market in the parking lot of her church and buying beautiful, beautiful fresh goodies every week. Radishes and tomatoes and arugula and cucumbers made it into the bag this past weekend, along with some lovcely flatbread and brioche rolls from a new bakery. Yummy.
We'll see how the fiscal diet goes - details to follow. The basics are no more yarn. Not even sock yarn because the Packratty premises currently contain enough sock yarn to accommodate knitting socks until the end of the year, easily. No new clothes - with the exception of underwear and hosiery. No doodads. No gewgaws or goodies. Food and household necessities only with an eye to buying those as frugally as possible.
We'll see.
First of all, work has been a seemingly endless successions of FUBARs. Not FUBARs that can be laid at the feet of yours truly, but FUBARs related to Ms. Packratty's unspeakable manager and other workplace morons as well as horrible things happening to a couple of co-workers. One of Ms Packratty's direct coworkers, with whome she shared the late shift, was diagnosed with advanced colon cancer and is only now slowing recovering from the first of at least 2 surgeries. A second coworker went into the hospital to remove a mass on his lung that was thought to be benign (non-smoker and all that) only to be dead within six weeks of advanced lung and bone cancer.
So things have been less than good at work. Plus there has been a lot of software changes and system updates, many of which have gone poorly.
Biggest news has been that my parents now have a dog, a delightful little Norwich from Marleen and they are moving to the DC area within the next few months to an apartment which will be much better for them than the split entry foyer house they are in now. However this means that Ms. Packratty's mother is proceeding to gift Ms. Packratty with more things than Ms. Packratty can presently accommodate. Books, china, clocks and artwork for the most part now, but larger things are coming. Room must be made; files must be emptied, closets consolidated.
With that said, Ms. Packratty is on a strict yarn diet for the rest of the year. Even though she is drooling over the Shorelines jacket, 2200 yards of what she wants to knit it in just won't make it into the budget. Budget you say? Well, there's a painting to be paid for and a HELOC that needs to be paid off ASAP. Plus all the normal bills.
So that's that.
On a health note, Ms. Packratty has been trekking to a farmer's market in the parking lot of her church and buying beautiful, beautiful fresh goodies every week. Radishes and tomatoes and arugula and cucumbers made it into the bag this past weekend, along with some lovcely flatbread and brioche rolls from a new bakery. Yummy.
We'll see how the fiscal diet goes - details to follow. The basics are no more yarn. Not even sock yarn because the Packratty premises currently contain enough sock yarn to accommodate knitting socks until the end of the year, easily. No new clothes - with the exception of underwear and hosiery. No doodads. No gewgaws or goodies. Food and household necessities only with an eye to buying those as frugally as possible.
We'll see.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Hotter Than The Hinges of Hell's Barbecue
Atlanta is HOT. Like a rotisserie. Hitting the century mark and even with the AC running full time, the house was still close to 80 degrees when I got home - now the AC *may* need a Freon boost and I'm working on that, but upstairs you could just feel the heat pressing down from the ceiling and the roof above it, so I think it's just a case of more heat than the AC can reasonably handle. It's occurred to me - on evenings when a dusk rain shower has cooled the house dramatically in minutes - that if I ever built a house, I might have some sort of sprinkler arrangement on the roof allowing me to imitate a shower and cool the roof down on a hot night with no rain in sight. Either that or live in a house where I could hose down the roof!
My final Fripp pictures are cool and green. Almost every time I leave Beaufort, unless the weather is unspeakable, I stop at the Old Sheldon Church between Gardens Corners and Yemassee. It's on a little shortcut between the two hamlets and a much prettier drive than the 4 lane alternative and Ms. Packratty would much rather drive a little slower on a 2-lane road that is canopied with live oaks than a 4-lane with billboards.
Like the Chapel of Ease on St. Helena, the Old Sheldon Church is a burned out shell, however the Old Sheldon Church is still an active church. One service (Episcopalian, of course), is held there a year and numerous weddings. T
he church was first built in 1745, burned by the British during the American Revolution and rebuilt in the early 19th century, only to be burned again during the Civil War. The second structure represented the first temple-form neoclassical structure in America, and began the Greek Revival style in the South. I find it a place of unearthly peace and beauty. The grounds are kept mowed and there is a well with hand a pump which used to water horses and now washes the hands of tourists. Fortunately it has suffered little from the sort of yahoo who must leave his spoor everywhere, although there are numerous places where creatures of this sort have carved their initials into the soft brick. Not a recent phenomenon at all, though - one such graffito is dated 1840 or 1849 ... A personal aside - the name Sheldon Church comes from the English family seat of the Bull family of the parish, of which my old friend Jennie Clarkson Olbrych is a descendant - and she herself was the first woman ordained to the priesthood in that same diocese. She is now vicar of St. James Santee (another pre-Revolutionary church) in McClellanville and the mother of 5 children. http://www.stjamesec.org/
he church was first built in 1745, burned by the British during the American Revolution and rebuilt in the early 19th century, only to be burned again during the Civil War. The second structure represented the first temple-form neoclassical structure in America, and began the Greek Revival style in the South. I find it a place of unearthly peace and beauty. The grounds are kept mowed and there is a well with hand a pump which used to water horses and now washes the hands of tourists. Fortunately it has suffered little from the sort of yahoo who must leave his spoor everywhere, although there are numerous places where creatures of this sort have carved their initials into the soft brick. Not a recent phenomenon at all, though - one such graffito is dated 1840 or 1849 ... A personal aside - the name Sheldon Church comes from the English family seat of the Bull family of the parish, of which my old friend Jennie Clarkson Olbrych is a descendant - and she herself was the first woman ordained to the priesthood in that same diocese. She is now vicar of St. James Santee (another pre-Revolutionary church) in McClellanville and the mother of 5 children. http://www.stjamesec.org/Between the climate and the lack of huge amounts of traffic, some of the flora is astonishing. Live oak trees have branches dripping to the ground and one such branch is supporting a colony of fungi, Spanish moss and ferns in an epiphytic explosion.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Tagged
By the Peach Pod.
The Starbucker Meme!
Here's an opportunity to let your creativity flow. Tell us:
The Starbucker Meme!
Here's an opportunity to let your creativity flow. Tell us:
- How full is your glass?
- What kind of glass is it?
- What's in the glass?
- Reasons for #1, #2, and #3
My answers:
1. Usually topped up.
2. Champagne flute!
3. Champagne or Prosecco
4. Question1 - Like all women, I need an 8 day week of 30 hour days to get everything done. question 2 and 3 - Because life should be a celebration.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Not Enough Vacation — on the other hand,
I was getting quite lazy enough down at Fripp by day 4 or so. I did get to compute a little, but it was all teaching aunt and uncle how to do some things with pictures.
So what was a typical day? Walk Charlie at 7, then have a cup of tea and go back to bed for another hour or two; then breakfast and some knitting and reading. I made several outings, including one to Penn Center on St. Helena. I also took Charlie on daily golf cart rides. Then, either before the worst heat of the day or late in the afternoon, Charlie and I would go down to the beach. First we would swim in the big tidal pool that has developed behind the now enormous sand bar - a sand bar which is acquiring vegetation. Then we would walk to the north end of the sand bar, which touches the island now, and walk out onto the sand bar.
There, Charlie could go off lead and run like a maniac dog for a while; we would walk the length of the sand bar, which I suspect is between a quarter and a half a mile, then wade/swim back to the beach from the southernmost end (which does not connect to the beach at low tide) and then walk back up the beach to where we left towels and such.
Charlie met plenty of other dogs and made up to every human being he met.
This is a picture of Charlie diligently sniffing at the waterline. He is NOT a fan of waves, but definitely found the beach a place of many delightful smells. He was not terribly enthusiastic about the post beach bathing, either.
We spent a lot of time hanging around - as I said, I did a lot of reading and some knitting and Charlie was quite content to hang out with me. he behaved well and stayed off mom's furniture - in fact I had to coax him up onto the bench to take this picture:
Mr. Charlie Rufus definitely needs a comb out and some trimming, which he'll probably get this weekend. I figured he might as well enjoy being a shaggy dog at the beach and I didn't want him getting sunburned. Love that BIG black nose.
He did find one article in the house to be endlessly fascinating, hopping in and out of it with regularity. I suspect Mom won't be too cranky about his affection for her basket - he didn't chew on it or scratch it - just climb in and look adorable.
That and the box of Cheese Nips that my nephew apparently secreted between the wall and the end of the couch - I wondered why Charlie didn't seem to be eating much but didn't seem hungry ....
Ms. Packratty did not get anything more done on the Mystery Shawl project, which remains pitifully small. I simply didn't feel like I needed to add challenges or frustration to my vacation. Considering how rested I felt on my return, I believe this was the correct approach.
More pictures from our trip home in the next post.
So what was a typical day? Walk Charlie at 7, then have a cup of tea and go back to bed for another hour or two; then breakfast and some knitting and reading. I made several outings, including one to Penn Center on St. Helena. I also took Charlie on daily golf cart rides. Then, either before the worst heat of the day or late in the afternoon, Charlie and I would go down to the beach. First we would swim in the big tidal pool that has developed behind the now enormous sand bar - a sand bar which is acquiring vegetation. Then we would walk to the north end of the sand bar, which touches the island now, and walk out onto the sand bar.
There, Charlie could go off lead and run like a maniac dog for a while; we would walk the length of the sand bar, which I suspect is between a quarter and a half a mile, then wade/swim back to the beach from the southernmost end (which does not connect to the beach at low tide) and then walk back up the beach to where we left towels and such.
Charlie met plenty of other dogs and made up to every human being he met.
This is a picture of Charlie diligently sniffing at the waterline. He is NOT a fan of waves, but definitely found the beach a place of many delightful smells. He was not terribly enthusiastic about the post beach bathing, either.
We spent a lot of time hanging around - as I said, I did a lot of reading and some knitting and Charlie was quite content to hang out with me. he behaved well and stayed off mom's furniture - in fact I had to coax him up onto the bench to take this picture:
Mr. Charlie Rufus definitely needs a comb out and some trimming, which he'll probably get this weekend. I figured he might as well enjoy being a shaggy dog at the beach and I didn't want him getting sunburned. Love that BIG black nose.
He did find one article in the house to be endlessly fascinating, hopping in and out of it with regularity. I suspect Mom won't be too cranky about his affection for her basket - he didn't chew on it or scratch it - just climb in and look adorable.
That and the box of Cheese Nips that my nephew apparently secreted between the wall and the end of the couch - I wondered why Charlie didn't seem to be eating much but didn't seem hungry ....
Ms. Packratty did not get anything more done on the Mystery Shawl project, which remains pitifully small. I simply didn't feel like I needed to add challenges or frustration to my vacation. Considering how rested I felt on my return, I believe this was the correct approach.
More pictures from our trip home in the next post.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
We have Fripped and we are back
Pictures now, more later:
The house is over on the right nestled in among those trees. Great marsh view, but hard for anyone to see *us*.
Marsh on the other side of the causeway where a number of egrets and wood storks roost, along with some migratories. The birds *are there* in the trees.
More pictures of Charlie and the Beaufort environs later. There was reading and knitting and eating of shrimp and riding Charlie about in the golf cart, which he regards as his chariot. My sib managed to leave crumbs and crud and a flat tire on the golf cart for me to deal with. Gee thanks. This is the one who picked an argument some time back because I dropped a couple of strawberry hulls on the floor while making a quart-sized strawberry shortcake. Uh huh.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Working the late shift
I worked the 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. shift today and got no knitting done because I am desperately trying to get the newsletter out before I go on vacation. And there was a serious epidemic of stupid going on, coupled with Internet access and VPN issues. I found myself explaining to a *programmer* that the fact that other people besides him were having VPN issues meant that it was likely the VPN problem and not his individual setup and in any event, I could not do eff-all to troubleshoot his personal issues until the VPN was actually functioning. I also hate the users who call up and tell me everything except their name and branch number - excuse me? How am I supposed to look up your data if you tell me your name is Mike in Chicago? We have probably 6 Mikes in various Chicago branches ... a last name would help too!
Yes, Ms. Packratty and Charlie are headed for Fripp Island SC in about 9 days to veg out and swill in salt water for a week. I will be taking several knitting projects and a stack of books along and very little else besides pajamas and swimsuits. Theme: Decompression. Badly, badly needed. Ms. Packratty is ready to start wringing necks over the phone.
I did, however, nip out at lunch (4 p.m.) and buy straight bamboo needles for the MS3. I'd have spent $5 more and bought bamboo circs, but Michael's is too stupid to carry circs in a full range of sizes. And if I'd had more time, I'd have driven to the nearby Needlenook, but I didn't have time, either. I was getting too frustrated with the join on the circs I was using AND trying to see the Vanilla Zephyr on white needles. Let's see if the bamboo is better. It's got a bit of grab, which I think is a good thing with Zephyr.
If I can get 5 more rows of clue A done tonight, I'll be delighted. And then I'm going to bed and getting up early to go to the tailgate market at the park for real tomatoes.
Yes, Ms. Packratty and Charlie are headed for Fripp Island SC in about 9 days to veg out and swill in salt water for a week. I will be taking several knitting projects and a stack of books along and very little else besides pajamas and swimsuits. Theme: Decompression. Badly, badly needed. Ms. Packratty is ready to start wringing necks over the phone.
I did, however, nip out at lunch (4 p.m.) and buy straight bamboo needles for the MS3. I'd have spent $5 more and bought bamboo circs, but Michael's is too stupid to carry circs in a full range of sizes. And if I'd had more time, I'd have driven to the nearby Needlenook, but I didn't have time, either. I was getting too frustrated with the join on the circs I was using AND trying to see the Vanilla Zephyr on white needles. Let's see if the bamboo is better. It's got a bit of grab, which I think is a good thing with Zephyr.
If I can get 5 more rows of clue A done tonight, I'll be delighted. And then I'm going to bed and getting up early to go to the tailgate market at the park for real tomatoes.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Tee Hee
Put in a lifeline at the end of the "page" of lace instructions and completed the 10 rows on the next page. Only had to tink back part of one row when I came up with too few knit stitches before the YO, K K that ends each knit row - counting the purl row carefully means I know that I'm starting the next row with the right number of stitches. Do wish my needles weren't white with ivory yarn, though.
And, I figured out that when a bead goes on after a YO, it's MUCH easier to put the bead on the stitch and pop it back on the left needle and then YO and knit the beaded stitch than to try to juggle the YO while putting a bead on.
And before I get too tired and start messing up, I'm going to thread in another lifeline and turn my attention to the second Monkeys sock. Picture of Monkey 1 tomorrow ....
And, I figured out that when a bead goes on after a YO, it's MUCH easier to put the bead on the stitch and pop it back on the left needle and then YO and knit the beaded stitch than to try to juggle the YO while putting a bead on.
And before I get too tired and start messing up, I'm going to thread in another lifeline and turn my attention to the second Monkeys sock. Picture of Monkey 1 tomorrow ....
Rape, sexual assault, culture and common sense
So after getting the tiniest 25 rows done on MS3, I went home and went to bed. No knitting last night, although I did, before leaving work, cast on for the second Monkeys sock in the Fleece Artist Nova Scotia sock yarn (which is yummy).
Then I read The Yarn Harlot's blog about the sexual assault trial in which the words rape and sexual assault, etc. have been banned by the judge. Just how far political correctness is going to go, I don't know, but this sort of cock-eyed thinking is clearly the product of a mentality where we have newscasters calling a rapist "the gentleman" or when prostitutes are called "ladies".
I have news for them - rapists are not gentlemen and hookers aren't ladies. But carry this sort of "we mustn't label anyone anything negative" mentality and you get a sexual assault trial in which the words sexual assault can't be mentioned.
Now that said - what in heck are these young women thinking? There have been a string of cases in which apparently intelligent (OK, attending college or grad school which should mean some degree of brightness) women go out and get plastered and bad things happen to them. No,
I'm not blaming the victim for the fact that there are bad people out there who do bad things, but I am saying, you know, just saying, that anyone with any sense has to know that there are bad people out there and that getting drunk in bars (and having friends that leave you while you are drunk) is a not very sensible thing to do. Is it fair, when men can go get plastered and the worst that might happen is losing their wallet? No. It's not. And the one thing that Jimmy Carter ever said that I agreed with is "Life isn't fair."
Now, that said, it behooves women of all ages to remember that there are bad people out there and that getting drunk or even tipsy with someone you don't know is probably not a good idea. And if you go out with female friends and one of them gets tipsy, don't let her wander off with someone she doesn't know. Exercise some caution - because there are bad people out there and while it would be really nice if we could live our lives as if there weren't ...
Even back in the long ago past when Ms. Packratty was attending college and there were no such things as "date rape drugs", we were cautioned not to leave a drink where anyone could get at it (there was a quaint, not so funny practice of putting hallucinogens in people's drinks back then and Ms. Packratty has always preferred her trips to come with airline tickets).
Ms. Packratty also noted the name of the accused reflects the strong possibility that he is the product of a culture with little or no respect for women, especially Western women. She also noted news reports that two other women came forward after the fact with claims that he had done the same thing to them. Perhaps this third young woman would not have been a victim of Pamir Safi if one of the prior victims had reported it. On the other hand, if the judge's ridiculous ruling on language reflects the local community's attitude toward rape, one might understand why the earlier victims did not.
So, to recap - the judge's ruling is insane (but a logical extension of the illogical political correctness doctrines) and young women need to exercise caution out on the town and men who rape should be punished.
Then I read The Yarn Harlot's blog about the sexual assault trial in which the words rape and sexual assault, etc. have been banned by the judge. Just how far political correctness is going to go, I don't know, but this sort of cock-eyed thinking is clearly the product of a mentality where we have newscasters calling a rapist "the gentleman" or when prostitutes are called "ladies".
I have news for them - rapists are not gentlemen and hookers aren't ladies. But carry this sort of "we mustn't label anyone anything negative" mentality and you get a sexual assault trial in which the words sexual assault can't be mentioned.
Now that said - what in heck are these young women thinking? There have been a string of cases in which apparently intelligent (OK, attending college or grad school which should mean some degree of brightness) women go out and get plastered and bad things happen to them. No,
I'm not blaming the victim for the fact that there are bad people out there who do bad things, but I am saying, you know, just saying, that anyone with any sense has to know that there are bad people out there and that getting drunk in bars (and having friends that leave you while you are drunk) is a not very sensible thing to do. Is it fair, when men can go get plastered and the worst that might happen is losing their wallet? No. It's not. And the one thing that Jimmy Carter ever said that I agreed with is "Life isn't fair."
Now, that said, it behooves women of all ages to remember that there are bad people out there and that getting drunk or even tipsy with someone you don't know is probably not a good idea. And if you go out with female friends and one of them gets tipsy, don't let her wander off with someone she doesn't know. Exercise some caution - because there are bad people out there and while it would be really nice if we could live our lives as if there weren't ...
Even back in the long ago past when Ms. Packratty was attending college and there were no such things as "date rape drugs", we were cautioned not to leave a drink where anyone could get at it (there was a quaint, not so funny practice of putting hallucinogens in people's drinks back then and Ms. Packratty has always preferred her trips to come with airline tickets).
Ms. Packratty also noted the name of the accused reflects the strong possibility that he is the product of a culture with little or no respect for women, especially Western women. She also noted news reports that two other women came forward after the fact with claims that he had done the same thing to them. Perhaps this third young woman would not have been a victim of Pamir Safi if one of the prior victims had reported it. On the other hand, if the judge's ridiculous ruling on language reflects the local community's attitude toward rape, one might understand why the earlier victims did not.
So, to recap - the judge's ruling is insane (but a logical extension of the illogical political correctness doctrines) and young women need to exercise caution out on the town and men who rape should be punished.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
I'm so much not a joiner ... yeah right
I fell right down that Mystery Shawl knitalong rabbit hole. Hard. And fell right off the "knitting from stash" diet too - although I made that for an entire six months (excepting dishcloth and sock yarn).
But yeah, I got suckered right in, even though I have never tackled anything but some very simple lace. Me and 6500 + others. Oy.
OK, the statistics.
Jaggerspun Zephyr Vanilla, 2 balls
size 5 needles and creamy ivory colored pearl beads from Beadwrangler (whose service is amazingly fast).
I've managed a whole 25 of the first Clue's 100 rows and thank heavens for the nice lady who is translating the charts. This should be quite a challenge.
Hope I'm up to it.
The latest of Summer's bounty.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Anonymous? Don't bother.
Put your name on it or don't bother. If you want to respond to anything I have to say, don't expect me to publish it if you are posting anonymously and I have no opportunity to respond directly.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Big News
I don't know when exactly or where, but I have been informed at a certain Canadian author is coming to Atlanta with her sock.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Happy 231st America!
The first member of my family to reach these shores arrived in 1632. Simon had been a yeoman farmer and served in the king's army, but when he had a chance to flee England for a place where he could worship as he chose and make more of his life than was possible in England, he did. Simon ended his days at 71, having married 3 times and fathered 17 children. He was also a major in the colonial militia, founded a town and was an overall success. On the other side of my family, Richard, born in the north of England, came to the colonies 3 years after Simon and also served in the colonial militia. He died at 81, having also married three times and fathering 14 children.
In the years since then, in every war and conflict through Vietnam, someone in my direct line has served this country. Willards and Hildreths have marched and sailed, fought and bled as officers and enlisted. I am descended from several officers in the Revolutionary War and dozens of enlistees. I am proud of this country, proud that we have managed to steer a course that still gives more freedom to more people than anywhere else - as well as more opportunity - and I pray we shall long be the example of freedom to the world.
With that, I will do my own version of a recent Canadian post:
A is for All of the citizens serving to protect this country and the peace of the world.
M is for Mercy. America has proved time and time again to be a terrible enemy but a merciful victor. This is another tradition I hope and pray we continue to follow even though it undoubtedly makes us appear weak to barbarians.
E is for English, our common tongue. Yes, we butcher the King's version, but American English is vibrant and lively and borrows freely from almost every culture we encounter. Barbecue from the Arawaks, amok from the Moros - if we find a useful word, we'll appropriate it. Look up boondocks, for example!
R is for our Revolution. We won our freedom and we have tried to spread the gospel of freedom.
I is for Invention. America was the first country to recognize intellectual property with a patent system and trademarks. The US Patent Office has patents that you can view online going back to 1790, when our country was barely a going concern. One of our Presidents has even held a patent.
C is for Charity. We excel at it both at home and abroad. If tragedy strikes a community or a country, Americans will be sending soup, bandages and cash within hours - and not primarily through government agencies, but through groups such as the Red Cross, the Salvation Army and dozens and dozens of smaller groups.
A is for ambition. In America, ambition and hard work can make you. Who your parents were or where they came from is much less important than what you want to achieve and how hard you are willing to work to do so.
The truth about this country is illustrated most vividly in the fact that all over the world in countries of every type, there are people standing in line and staking all they have on a chance to come here, whereas, I am informed, the line to leave here is small.
In the years since then, in every war and conflict through Vietnam, someone in my direct line has served this country. Willards and Hildreths have marched and sailed, fought and bled as officers and enlisted. I am descended from several officers in the Revolutionary War and dozens of enlistees. I am proud of this country, proud that we have managed to steer a course that still gives more freedom to more people than anywhere else - as well as more opportunity - and I pray we shall long be the example of freedom to the world.
With that, I will do my own version of a recent Canadian post:
A is for All of the citizens serving to protect this country and the peace of the world.
M is for Mercy. America has proved time and time again to be a terrible enemy but a merciful victor. This is another tradition I hope and pray we continue to follow even though it undoubtedly makes us appear weak to barbarians.
E is for English, our common tongue. Yes, we butcher the King's version, but American English is vibrant and lively and borrows freely from almost every culture we encounter. Barbecue from the Arawaks, amok from the Moros - if we find a useful word, we'll appropriate it. Look up boondocks, for example!
R is for our Revolution. We won our freedom and we have tried to spread the gospel of freedom.
I is for Invention. America was the first country to recognize intellectual property with a patent system and trademarks. The US Patent Office has patents that you can view online going back to 1790, when our country was barely a going concern. One of our Presidents has even held a patent.
C is for Charity. We excel at it both at home and abroad. If tragedy strikes a community or a country, Americans will be sending soup, bandages and cash within hours - and not primarily through government agencies, but through groups such as the Red Cross, the Salvation Army and dozens and dozens of smaller groups.
A is for ambition. In America, ambition and hard work can make you. Who your parents were or where they came from is much less important than what you want to achieve and how hard you are willing to work to do so.
The truth about this country is illustrated most vividly in the fact that all over the world in countries of every type, there are people standing in line and staking all they have on a chance to come here, whereas, I am informed, the line to leave here is small.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Don't get me wrong
I love our Canadian neighbors and our Canadian knitbloggers and I would certainly join them in a chorus of "O Canada" on July 1. However, the crowing about their "National Health Care" and labeling it "working" is just untenable.
First, the financing of their health care system is possible only because Canada has eviscerated its military and depends on the shield and buckler of the US military for much of its security. Although there are some plans in place to beef up the miniscule 60K active duty force, this is a tiny number of the people it should take to defend the large territory that Canada occupies. Proof of this is that the Canadian forces had trouble supplying replacement troops for the 850 people they sent to Afghanistan after their rotation was over. Imagine a country the size of Canada and they have so few troops that they had trouble rotating less than 1,000 personnel.
As for the working part of the health care system up there, I had an older relative here in the US just get knee replacement surgery in less than 3 weeks from the time it was determined that it was needed. There were other medical factors that slowed the process down by a week or the surgery would have been done even earlier. Contrast this with the fate of a grandmother of an acquaintance, who spent 6 months wheelchair bound waiting to get on the list to have knee repair (repair, NOT replacement) and finally gave up and crossed the border and paid cash to aUS doctor and hospital to do the job. Of course, the US doctors said a repair would only fend off a knee replacement by a couple of years, but in the Canadian system, she'd have waited another 6 months for the "repair" then when that failed in 2 years, she'd be on the waiting list for a replacement and God only knows how long you have to wait for a knee replacement. Maybe the notion is that she would die of old age in the wheelchair before the taxpayers had to fund the knee replacement.
Not to say there isn't plenty that could be better about the US health care model - for example, the fact that too many people use emergency facilities for minor injuries and illnesses is frustrating. We need to have urgent care clinics that can handle things like a severe ear infection at 2 a.m. or a hand cut open on a broken glass at 4 p.m. on Sunday without bothering the ER. Our military medical system used to do this very well, separating real emergencies from things that need care with some urgency, but don't require ER facilities. Apparently the civilian model mostly doesn't.
And I say all this as a private citizen with a chronic illness who has been occasionally uninsured and had to muddle through.
First, the financing of their health care system is possible only because Canada has eviscerated its military and depends on the shield and buckler of the US military for much of its security. Although there are some plans in place to beef up the miniscule 60K active duty force, this is a tiny number of the people it should take to defend the large territory that Canada occupies. Proof of this is that the Canadian forces had trouble supplying replacement troops for the 850 people they sent to Afghanistan after their rotation was over. Imagine a country the size of Canada and they have so few troops that they had trouble rotating less than 1,000 personnel.
As for the working part of the health care system up there, I had an older relative here in the US just get knee replacement surgery in less than 3 weeks from the time it was determined that it was needed. There were other medical factors that slowed the process down by a week or the surgery would have been done even earlier. Contrast this with the fate of a grandmother of an acquaintance, who spent 6 months wheelchair bound waiting to get on the list to have knee repair (repair, NOT replacement) and finally gave up and crossed the border and paid cash to aUS doctor and hospital to do the job. Of course, the US doctors said a repair would only fend off a knee replacement by a couple of years, but in the Canadian system, she'd have waited another 6 months for the "repair" then when that failed in 2 years, she'd be on the waiting list for a replacement and God only knows how long you have to wait for a knee replacement. Maybe the notion is that she would die of old age in the wheelchair before the taxpayers had to fund the knee replacement.
Not to say there isn't plenty that could be better about the US health care model - for example, the fact that too many people use emergency facilities for minor injuries and illnesses is frustrating. We need to have urgent care clinics that can handle things like a severe ear infection at 2 a.m. or a hand cut open on a broken glass at 4 p.m. on Sunday without bothering the ER. Our military medical system used to do this very well, separating real emergencies from things that need care with some urgency, but don't require ER facilities. Apparently the civilian model mostly doesn't.
And I say all this as a private citizen with a chronic illness who has been occasionally uninsured and had to muddle through.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
100 knitting things
Afghan; I-cord; Garter stitch; Knitting with metal wire; Shawl; Stockinette stitch; Socks: top-down; Socks: toe-up; Knitting with camel yarn; Mittens: Cuff-up; Mittens: Tip-down; Hat; Knitting with silk; Moebius band knitting; Participating in a KAL; Sweater; Drop stitch patterns; Knitting with recycled/secondhand yarn; Slip stitch patterns; Knitting with bananafiber yarn; Domino knitting (=modular knitting); Twisted stitch patterns; Knitting with bamboo yarn; Two end knitting; Charity knitting; Knitting with soy yarn; Cardigan; Toy/doll clothing; Knitting with circular needles; Baby items; Knitting with your own handspun yarn; Slippers; Graffitti knitting (knitting items on, or to be left on the street); Continental knitting; Designing knitted garments; Cable stitch patterns (incl. Aran); Lace patterns; Publishing a knitting book; Scarf; Teaching a child to knit; American/English knitting (as opposed to continental); Knitting to make money; Button holes; Knitting with alpaca; Fair Isle knitting; Norwegian knitting; Dying with plant colours; Knitting items for a wedding; Household items (dishcloths, washcloths, tea cosies...); Knitting socks (or other small tubular items)on two circulars; Olympic knitting; Knitting with someone elses handspun yarn; Knitting with dpns; Holiday related knitting; Teaching a male how to knit; Bobbles; Knitting for a living; Knitting with cotton; Knitting smocking; Dying yarn; Steeks; Knitting art; Knitting two socks (or other small tubular items) on two circulars simultaneously; Fulling/felting; Knitting with wool; Textured knitting; Kitchener BO; Purses/bags; Knitting with beads; Swatching; Long Tail CO; Entrelac; Knitting and purling backwards; Machine knitting; Knitting with selfpatterning/selfstriping/variegating yarn; Stuffed toys; Baby items; Knitting with cashmere; Darning; Jewelry; Knitting with synthetic yarn; Writing a pattern; Gloves; Intarsia; Knitting with linen; Knitting for preemies; Tubular CO; Freeform knitting; Short rows; Cuffs/fingerless mits/armwarmers; Pillows; Knitting a pattern from an online knitting magazine; Rug; Knitting on a loom; Thrummed knitting; Knitting a gift; Knitting for pets; Shrug/bolero/poncho; Knitting with dog/cat hair; Hair accessories; Knitting in public.
Hmm, that's pretty substantial - but still has a lot of room for learning, even if there are a dozen things in there that I have utterly no interest in.
Hmm, that's pretty substantial - but still has a lot of room for learning, even if there are a dozen things in there that I have utterly no interest in.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Beauteous things
Went to the High Museum here in Atlanta last week when I had a half day at work. Tickled to see a good portion of the Louvre exhibit - saw some paintings that I had hitherto seen only in books. Then we ventured over to the Cecilia Beaux and Annie Liebowitz exhibits and I was floored me. The Annie Liebowitz photography - well, her work has been part of my visual landscape since I was in HS, I guess, and started reading Rolling Stone. I always admired her work and Mary Ellen Mark. Getting to see her current work was astonishing. The large - oh, heck - immense format pictures were especially amazing.
The Cecilia Beaux exhibit was stunning for other reasons. I've long admired John Singer Sargent for the extraordinary way he handled light and shadows and after seeing this assemblage of paintings, I think that Ms. Beaux may actually be the superior painter. This is an exhibit I plan to revisit before it departs.
We were too tired and footsore to go on to The Gates of Paradise by Lorenzo Ghiberti on loan from Florence and since the exhibit departs July 15, Ms. Packratty has marked her calendar for July 7, when Fulton County residents get free admission to the High.
After the High, we did go on and go to Il Bacio for what ended up being dinner - I had the first non rubbery calamari I've ever had in this country and we shared a serving of rigatoni alla vodka, along with superb salads. This little restaurant will, I hope, make it. Everything I have had there, from pizza slices and salad, through pasta and gelato, has been terrific and authentic and I hope to continue munching my way through the menu as diet and pocketbook permit.
The Cecilia Beaux exhibit was stunning for other reasons. I've long admired John Singer Sargent for the extraordinary way he handled light and shadows and after seeing this assemblage of paintings, I think that Ms. Beaux may actually be the superior painter. This is an exhibit I plan to revisit before it departs.
We were too tired and footsore to go on to The Gates of Paradise by Lorenzo Ghiberti on loan from Florence and since the exhibit departs July 15, Ms. Packratty has marked her calendar for July 7, when Fulton County residents get free admission to the High.
After the High, we did go on and go to Il Bacio for what ended up being dinner - I had the first non rubbery calamari I've ever had in this country and we shared a serving of rigatoni alla vodka, along with superb salads. This little restaurant will, I hope, make it. Everything I have had there, from pizza slices and salad, through pasta and gelato, has been terrific and authentic and I hope to continue munching my way through the menu as diet and pocketbook permit.
Jitterbugging
Yes, the Jitterbug socks in the lovely Colinette yarn are done and have been worn and were delightful. Thought it was odd how I got more striping and pooling on one sock than the other, especially since they were done from a single skein. I would definitely knit this yarn again — in fact I was very disappointed that one colorway that looked lovely on the monitor looked much muddier "in person". So much so that I passed it up.
At the moment, Ms. Packratty is through knitting socks for a little while and is back to the slog on the CBMM — http://www.masondixonknitting.com/slogalong/ is helping to provide some commiseration with others who have tackled long and boring projects. That said, Ms. Packratty believes that she is within striking distance of the end (maybe 1 1/2 more skeins - yes, she knows she said that once before, but that was before she realized that she had misplaced 2 skeins). The next project is the hat for Dad and once that is underway, I will allow myself to cast on the Fleece Artist merino for either Jaywalkers or Monkeys. I am still looking for something I think is achievable for the slightly fuzzy white yarn that I have set aside of Marleen, which is the next project after The Hat.
Undertook a visit to SC to render a bit of aid and comfort and Charlie got to have fun in the woods again. And was unbearably cute perched on a pillow next to a very gorgeous needlepoint pillow done by Ms. Packratty's sibling.
He also discovered that the magazine basket in the kitchen was exactly right for a small dog.
Charlie is really calming down and becoming a well behaved boy and to my delight, while he is not as much "at my heel" as Miranda, he will come running from wherever he might be when he hears his name. He does love my father's company, especially when it involves the woods out back.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Holy Smoke!
Yes, the smoke from the South Georgia fires once more cloaked Atlanta in haze.
With the resulting traffic idiocy, even though it really didn't significantly lower road visibility for Mr. Average Commuter.
However, the entire city smelled like an ashtray and made Ms. Packratty cough. Ick. Charlie was sneezing on his morning walk, too.
Pray for rain in south Georgia and north Florida - not because it's polluting my air, but because it's really, really bad and has already claimed the life of one firefighter.
In the Good News category, Ms. Packratty's relative is recovering well from surgery. We are thankful.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Monday and Tuesday and things to be glad for
There was a little knitting, a lot of reading and just a little de-packratting on Memorial Day. Mostly really taking it easy and snuggling Charlie, who has been suffering from my long hours and fatigue. Ms. Packratty was more than a little tense, because a relative is facing surgery.
But shortly after 2 p.m. Tuesday, said relative was able to answer the phone and convey the news that surgery was successful.
So with that news, Ms. Packratty set off with Marleen (leaving Charlie with his buddy DeeDee) and went ... shopping. Marleen did *most* of the shopping, but Ms. Packratty was able to replace her almost worn-through-the-soles Crocs with a pair on sale and a spare pair to boot. Now, Ms. Packratty needs to remember to take the worn out pair AND the boxes and bags from the new ones and GET THEM OUT OF THE HOUSE!
Still waiting for the latest fix of sock yarn from the sale at www.littleknits.com ... and I'm starting the heel of sock 2 in the Colinette Jitterbug Blue Parrot socks.
But shortly after 2 p.m. Tuesday, said relative was able to answer the phone and convey the news that surgery was successful.
So with that news, Ms. Packratty set off with Marleen (leaving Charlie with his buddy DeeDee) and went ... shopping. Marleen did *most* of the shopping, but Ms. Packratty was able to replace her almost worn-through-the-soles Crocs with a pair on sale and a spare pair to boot. Now, Ms. Packratty needs to remember to take the worn out pair AND the boxes and bags from the new ones and GET THEM OUT OF THE HOUSE!
Still waiting for the latest fix of sock yarn from the sale at www.littleknits.com ... and I'm starting the heel of sock 2 in the Colinette Jitterbug Blue Parrot socks.
Rest and fun
The holiday weekend started inauspiciously, but that turned out to be a good thing, because it just kept getting better. Unfortunately, the inauspicious part included my oh-so-considerate neighbor having a party that lasted into the wee hours of Saturday morning. Since Ms. Packratty had to be at work at 8 a.m. Saturday, this was not especially considerate. However, Ms. Packratty was not the only person who summoned the cops to the party and she looks forward to the new tenant in the apartment under MissTrouble arriving. At that point, the parties and fights will be called in by up to three neighbors. Maybe that sort of unanimity will get the point across?
Sadly, after little sleep Friday night and working Saturday, there was a faceplant on the bed Saturday afternoon that continued into Sunday morning when to my horror I awoke to discover that Atlanta was once again socked in under smoke from the south Georgia fires. It was horrible and I was really afraid that Stephanie - my third cousin on the Skinner side of the family - was going to have to cancel her Memorial Day Weekend soiree. Happily, as the pictures of Charlie above indicate, that did not happen. Charlie comported himself nicely and was invited back. And was he ever one tired little dog when we got home. Very, very tired.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Dear God in Heaven I want to CRY
This was the best part of my day - an absolutely perfect gardenia, with the swooning sweet scent that never ever seems to be cloying
OK, so I've covered the fact that we've had 5 people depart the Tech Support department in the last 6 weeks for various reasons and we were slightly understaffed (1 position) when that happened anyway, so you can surely imagine that the last 6 weeks have been Hell on a cracker?
So what does our manager do? Sails out of the office Thursday at something shortly after 5 p.m. and then sends an e-mail this morning saying "See you all Tuesday." FOUR DAY WEEKEND with no warning. Leaving a grand total of 4 people working.
One poor co-worker was here alone from 7:30 a.m. until 8 a.m. to deal with all the software error calls. There was ONE hardware queue co-worker and then me, the multitasker. I got in here shortly after 11 (because I realized that poor Charlie desperately needed a play date and dropped the poor beast off at Marleen's on my way to work). So the first thing that happened to me was getting totally hammered because the co-worker answering software calls bolted for lunch as soon as she saw me coming and I do not blame her one tiny little bit. Heck, in her position, I might have been bolting for Tower Liquors across the street (classy neighborhood to go with the great pay) about that time.
Anyway, there was a major bit of software stupidity and a whole great mountain of user stupidity going on and then the hardware guy bailed at 4:30; the other software person split at 4:15 and the second line desk supervisor bombed out of here at 5 p.m. and I'm stuck here alone answering calls from mentally deficient and arrogant users in California all by myself and I swear to God there is one girl with a voice so whiny that it makes my teeth itch. I was sitting there telling her I couldn't fix her broken spreadsheet if she couldn't tell me what columns the spreadsheet was intended to add and subtract from what columns and she actually said "Is there anyone there who knows anything about Excel?"
Head:Desk
OK, so I have to be back here Saturday at 8 o'clock of the morning and some of my co-workers have to work Monday (but most if not all of the Suits will be enjoying THEIR weekend). You know, growing up as a military brat really ruined me for civilian employment. Because officers in the military work the same kind of long hours as their subordinates. Sometimes longer. When I was a kid, especially when we were overseas, Dad was gone at way-too-dark-to-be-awake-let-alone-shaved-and-kitted-out-in-a-perfectly-starched-uniform and he rarely if ever got home before dark most of the year and dusk in high summer. Plus he worked every single Saturday that he wasn't on leave from way-too-early until mid-afternoon at least. So the managers who take every long weekend and so forth really don't impress me much at all.
So anyway,
when 3 p.m. came around, I bolted the place and headed up to The Needle Nook since I had an email saying that she had the newest colors of the Colinette Jitterbug in stock and I needed to buy more teentsy-tiny #1 bamboo needles since I bent and broke ANOTHER one yesterday. Well, I wanted the Colinette Jitterbug Seabreeze color pattern and it turned out to be much ... browner than the pictures on the Colinette site indicated. I mean really muddy BROWN. The web site picture looks like a light beige and this stuff was dark. The Monet was muddier than the web site too. So no more sock yarn. I was saved. Which considering my little falling down the other day is a good thing. The Packratty budget can't afford much retail therapy. Although I did buy needles and a row marker. An appropriate row marker for my recent progress . . .
OK, so I've covered the fact that we've had 5 people depart the Tech Support department in the last 6 weeks for various reasons and we were slightly understaffed (1 position) when that happened anyway, so you can surely imagine that the last 6 weeks have been Hell on a cracker?
So what does our manager do? Sails out of the office Thursday at something shortly after 5 p.m. and then sends an e-mail this morning saying "See you all Tuesday." FOUR DAY WEEKEND with no warning. Leaving a grand total of 4 people working.
One poor co-worker was here alone from 7:30 a.m. until 8 a.m. to deal with all the software error calls. There was ONE hardware queue co-worker and then me, the multitasker. I got in here shortly after 11 (because I realized that poor Charlie desperately needed a play date and dropped the poor beast off at Marleen's on my way to work). So the first thing that happened to me was getting totally hammered because the co-worker answering software calls bolted for lunch as soon as she saw me coming and I do not blame her one tiny little bit. Heck, in her position, I might have been bolting for Tower Liquors across the street (classy neighborhood to go with the great pay) about that time.
Anyway, there was a major bit of software stupidity and a whole great mountain of user stupidity going on and then the hardware guy bailed at 4:30; the other software person split at 4:15 and the second line desk supervisor bombed out of here at 5 p.m. and I'm stuck here alone answering calls from mentally deficient and arrogant users in California all by myself and I swear to God there is one girl with a voice so whiny that it makes my teeth itch. I was sitting there telling her I couldn't fix her broken spreadsheet if she couldn't tell me what columns the spreadsheet was intended to add and subtract from what columns and she actually said "Is there anyone there who knows anything about Excel?"
Head:Desk
OK, so I have to be back here Saturday at 8 o'clock of the morning and some of my co-workers have to work Monday (but most if not all of the Suits will be enjoying THEIR weekend). You know, growing up as a military brat really ruined me for civilian employment. Because officers in the military work the same kind of long hours as their subordinates. Sometimes longer. When I was a kid, especially when we were overseas, Dad was gone at way-too-dark-to-be-awake-let-alone-shaved-and-kitted-out-in-a-perfectly-starched-uniform and he rarely if ever got home before dark most of the year and dusk in high summer. Plus he worked every single Saturday that he wasn't on leave from way-too-early until mid-afternoon at least. So the managers who take every long weekend and so forth really don't impress me much at all.
So anyway,
when 3 p.m. came around, I bolted the place and headed up to The Needle Nook since I had an email saying that she had the newest colors of the Colinette Jitterbug in stock and I needed to buy more teentsy-tiny #1 bamboo needles since I bent and broke ANOTHER one yesterday. Well, I wanted the Colinette Jitterbug Seabreeze color pattern and it turned out to be much ... browner than the pictures on the Colinette site indicated. I mean really muddy BROWN. The web site picture looks like a light beige and this stuff was dark. The Monet was muddier than the web site too. So no more sock yarn. I was saved. Which considering my little falling down the other day is a good thing. The Packratty budget can't afford much retail therapy. Although I did buy needles and a row marker. An appropriate row marker for my recent progress . . . Thursday, May 24, 2007
Life is Just a Bowl of . . . CHERRIES!
Yes, indeedy, it's cherry season again and Ms. Packratty has been on the "fruit and tea" regimen that always seems to set in when cherry season peaks and the cherry prices drop under $3 a pound. Thank heavens this phase only lasts for about 3 weeks, 4 tops, because by the time cherries once again become insanely budget-bustingly expensive, Ms. Packratty is TIRED of them, if one can indeed be tired of the Nectar of the Gods.
Fruit and tea means that Ms. Packratty stumbles home from work (more on that later) and washes off a good mess of cherries in the colander and dumps them in a paper-towel-lined bowl and then goes forth to read her email. Somewhat later, she thinks about dinner but is already stuffed on cherries, so she makes a cup of tea and tries to stay awake long enough for the news at 10 to come on.
.
The reason that Ms. Packratty is stumbling about in a daze is that the staff at her workplace is currently about half of what it should be, yet our users continue to mess up the programs, the hardware and the data at the usual pace. This sudden decline in workforce is due to the canning of two co-workers (one of whom richly deserved it); the lateral move of a third; and the defection of a fourth to a position with almost no commute, better pay, better benefits and no requirement that he wear a tie every bloody day of the year. The fifth co-worker developed kidney failure and congestive heart failure and nearly died, so it is difficult to hate him for his absence.
.
Management has scurried about recruiting replacements, who might be competent to answer the phone by Labor Day, while motivating us with the occasional lunch and some movie tickets. Forget that noise - motivate me by taking the pay for the 5 empty positions and divvying it up among those of us who are carrying a double workload! Cash bonuses? Ha. They think a cold quesadilla from Chilis is going to do the trick. Can we say "updated resume" boys and girls?
.
Meanwhile we have the Memorial Day weekend approaching and while the parking slots for the Executive Gods are already mostly empty, the Help Desk will be staffed both the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend and on Memorial Day itself. Those who matter (the expensive cars in the reserved spots) will mostly be gone for a week centering on Memorial Day itself. Really motivating. Really. Truly. Ms. Packratty will be working on the Saturday and have the Tuesday off.
.
Needless to say, not much knitting or de-packratting has been getting done, but there have been a number of interesting things going on.
.
First of all, it has been late spring and that has meant all sorts of raging animal attraction going on everywhere. While it was cool enough to have the windows open there for a while it was too darned noisy - too much muskrat love sort of stuff going on. It's been dry, so the frogs have been very quiet, though, those can be deafening even with closed windows in a rainy spring.
.
Dry brings me to other things, like the fires burning a hole in south Georgia and northern Florida. The winds shifted early this week and on Tuesday, Atlanta was blanketed in stinky smoke - heavy enough to look like fog, but smelling like the bottom of an ashtray. It blew away, but it was sheerly awful while it lasted. Thousands of acres have burned and hundreds of people are losing homes and livelihoods.
.
In other developments, the woman who lives downstairs is either fighting with her old girlfriend who moved out but who seems to be hanging around a bit or is fighting (usually at 2:30 a.m.) with someone new. The style of fighting - slamming doors, screaming, thumping on walls, does not seem to change, regardless of who the second combatant is. I'm really, really, really really tired of this woman and her dysfunctional lesbian love life. I'm tired of the fact that she cannot seem to shut a door without slamming it so hard that things rattle upstairs. I'm tired of her untrained, unaltered and badly-bred Boston terrier yapping at me and getting Charlie all worked up.
.
Yes, Danielle, I want you gone. I don't care how anymore and that's why I no longer call the cops when you are fighting - because horribly enough, I find myself hoping that either you or your partner in combat will seriously damage the other, leading to jail or hospital or something for you and peace and quiet for me. And yes, I am horrified that I possess this sort of evil desire for bad things to happen to you, but dammit - you've woken me out of a sound and peaceful sleep or prevented me from attaining same too DAMN MANY TIMES. We will not even discuss the fact that you don't want your creepy assortment of scuzzball friends smoking cigarettes or joints in your house, so you send them onto the deck, where the clouds of stinking smoke drift in my open windows, meaning that even in marginally clement weather, I am forced to shut the windows and sliding doors.
.
Exhaustion does have some good points - at least budgetwise. Ms. Packratty has managed to resist the siren song of various yummy yarns and continue knitting when possible on the chocolate brown merino monster or the Jitterbug socks ... but she had a little sort of yarn falling down thing when she found a sale at http://www.littleknits.com/ and might have ordered a wee bit over the minimum purchase in sock yarn. Not much, just 3 pair of socks worth including some Fleece Artist Merino in Nova Scotia ... I was hideously tempted by the Hand Maiden Sea Silk, but resisted. The CBMM and the hat for Dad and the shawl for Marleen are all in queue ahead of anything else. I will be strong. I will be strong. I will be strong.
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The other thing that irritates the pee out of me lately is when someone is conducting a knitting blog or a dog blog or whatever and they drag political comments in with this smug assumption that all right-thinking people must think the way they do. Well, I have news for them - when I log in to read a knitting blog, I am not there to read about your politics, etc. For whatever record there might be, Ms. Packratty considers herself to be a moderate who does not think it is ever appropriate to call the President demeaning names. Ms. Packratty even refrained from calling former president Clinton names when he was in office and given that Ms. Packratty is a feminist and she believes that the former president is a rapist or the very next thing to one, that was *difficult*. Hereby ends Ms. Packratty's political commentary.
.
Nor does Ms. Packratty ever want to see or hear anyone ever demeaning or disparaging the men and women of the US Armed Forces. Please note that while there have been bad apples, in almost every case of said bad appledom or bad actions in the US military, it has been people within the military who blew the whistle on the bad actors. Unlike the civilian world where warrants, investigations and grand juries are often required to sniff out malefactors. Not to mention that military justice is both swifter and nastier than civilian justice. Nor does she much like the bashing of graduates of the various service academies - especially when such bashing is coming from the mouths or pens or keyboards of persons whom Ms. Packratty is mortally certain could not have hacked it out at West Point or Annapolis or Colorado Springs for so much as a month, let alone 4 years. Yes, Ms. Packratty is biased. She has relatives and ancestors who attended the service academies and believes them to be superb insitututions that focus on physical, mental and moral discipline.
EOT
Friday, May 11, 2007
Finished things and blooming things and new socks
First of all, I have finished and mailed to Mom the pretty socks out of the pastel On Line yarn. They turned out nicely.
I was so pleased with them and so bored with chocolate brown merino, that I immediately contemplated another pair. Went off to the yarn store and was thinking of buying more in a different color pattern when I was thumped on the head by the gorgeousness of some Colinette Jitterbug 100% merino sock yarn in the Blue Parrot color pattern. Oh heaven. I can't believe I spent that much (classified) on a skein of sock yarn.
Here's the beginning of my Jitterbug sock:
The maroon and green bits don't come out very distinctly, nor does the enchantingly buttery texture. I am in love. Enough to have scouted out the newest colors for this spring and finding one that I crave.
However, I am rationing time with these socks and requiring a certain amount of work on Chocolate Brown before I can return to Buttery Socks. Fortunately the yarn is expensive enough so I won't be stockpiling it. And when I finish CB, I need to move on to the silk and wool fuzzy yarn for Marleen's present.
In other news, my doorway clematis, after 2 years of sitting and doing little or nothing, has gone crazy - it's grown most of the way up it's supporting string to the loggia and is covered with blooms. It had been sitting there in its pot and doing nothing for so long that I'd forgotten it was supposed to have lavender blooms.
And that's all from Chez Packratty. I have an *entire* weekend with no festivals, nothing scheduled, no work, no committments elsewhere and I intend to devote it to maintenance on Chez Packratty and on Mz. Packratty herself.
And lots of time with Charlie.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
MayDay
I remember being a child in Europe in the early 1960s when we would not leave the post on or around MayDay because it was a Communist Party event and they always whipped up a lot of anti-American sentiment.
Nice to be in the US where it means flowers at most.
Was spelunking around an old journal trying to find my remarks from a couple of years ago about GRONK! GRONK! is a Canada goose of the male persuasion who has been courting and nesting near my condo for a couple of years.
Here are my comments from 2005:
There's a reason for the phrase "birdbrain".
GRONK! GRONK! GRONK!
There are some houses being constructed behind my condo, about 50 yards away. There's a pond about 100 yards south of the first house. There are Canada geese who visit the pond. Bad enough that you can't walk anywhere near the pond in the spring without sliding on a slick of goosepoop; nor will we mention the aerial precision bombing they perform on parked cars.
GRONK! GRONK! GRONK!
Now what we've got is one confused member of the species, gender unknown, but I'll call it "him" for simplicity. For the last 3 nights, this idiotic bird has been perched on top of the southernmost house every night, emitting a series of GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! through the night.
Just when you think he's quit, he starts up again.
GRONK! GRONK! GRONK!
So thinking he was hurt or unable to fly after the first 2 nights, one of the neighbors prevailed on the construction crew to put a ladder up to the roof so he could rescue the bird and take him to the wildlife center, only to discover as he got to the top of the ladder, that the bird could fly just fine. Not to mention that he'd have never been able to catch the bird as the roof is befouled with 2-3 days of accumulated goosepoop.
GRONK! GRONK! GRONK!
So the goose was gone for a couple of hours and just as I started to think about shutting down the computer and going to bed .... GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK!
I'm alternately thinking that I may lose my mind and fantasizing about roast goose.
Well, GRONK! is back, although he has a GRONKETTE! and they no longer GRONK for hours, just a couple times a day. Goslings on the pond soon, I suspect.
However, the burning question remains - why do they call them migratory when they won't migrate?
Nice to be in the US where it means flowers at most.
Was spelunking around an old journal trying to find my remarks from a couple of years ago about GRONK! GRONK! is a Canada goose of the male persuasion who has been courting and nesting near my condo for a couple of years.
Here are my comments from 2005:
There's a reason for the phrase "birdbrain".
GRONK! GRONK! GRONK!
There are some houses being constructed behind my condo, about 50 yards away. There's a pond about 100 yards south of the first house. There are Canada geese who visit the pond. Bad enough that you can't walk anywhere near the pond in the spring without sliding on a slick of goosepoop; nor will we mention the aerial precision bombing they perform on parked cars.
GRONK! GRONK! GRONK!
Now what we've got is one confused member of the species, gender unknown, but I'll call it "him" for simplicity. For the last 3 nights, this idiotic bird has been perched on top of the southernmost house every night, emitting a series of GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! through the night.
Just when you think he's quit, he starts up again.
GRONK! GRONK! GRONK!
So thinking he was hurt or unable to fly after the first 2 nights, one of the neighbors prevailed on the construction crew to put a ladder up to the roof so he could rescue the bird and take him to the wildlife center, only to discover as he got to the top of the ladder, that the bird could fly just fine. Not to mention that he'd have never been able to catch the bird as the roof is befouled with 2-3 days of accumulated goosepoop.
GRONK! GRONK! GRONK!
So the goose was gone for a couple of hours and just as I started to think about shutting down the computer and going to bed .... GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK! GRONK!
I'm alternately thinking that I may lose my mind and fantasizing about roast goose.
Well, GRONK! is back, although he has a GRONKETTE! and they no longer GRONK for hours, just a couple times a day. Goslings on the pond soon, I suspect.
However, the burning question remains - why do they call them migratory when they won't migrate?
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