Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Will you see your pet in heaven?

This is a great concern to many people, particularly the elderly who have been cared for and comforted by the companionship of a cat or dog or bird or other animal. Often it is the act of caring for and protecting the animal that helps the human. Our kitty brings us a lot of enjoyment, but she also brings out the best of our caring instincts and behaviors. Sometimes we just chuckle watching her sleep--the picture of absolute relaxation and not a care in the world. This is one of the better answers I've seen for this question.

The photo of the 3-legged shepherd mix and the mutt cat was found at Dog Friendly.com Somebody loves them a lot and I'm betting the animals return the favor.

Methane release in reverse

Interesting article at the Alchemist newsletter. Sounds like Archaea are a lot more important than polar bears. Isn't God amazing.

"Two microbes, known as Archaea, consume 90% of the greenhouse gas methane that would otherwise be released into the atmosphere from melting methane hydrates. However, these anaerobic microbes, which live in the ocean sediments, do so using a sulfur compound, methyl sulfide, rather than simply reversing the biochemistry of methane-making microbes. According to Christopher House and colleagues at Pennsylvania State University: "The Archaea take in the methane and produce a methyl sulfide, and then the sulfur-reducing bacteria eat the methyl sulfide and reduced it to sulfide," explains House. Understanding how these symbiotic organisms remove methane from the oceans is important because without them the average global atmospheric temperature would likely be warmer by about 10 degrees Celsius." (To convert Celsius (Centigrade) to Fahrenheit, multiply by 1.8 and add 32.)

Red jeans

Who knew? I thought colored jeans (except blue denim, gray, black or ugly) were out of style except for wearing around the house to clean, or to dash to the coffee shop in the wee hours of the morning. This photo is from the Ditto site; those aren't my legs, or fold marks (shouldn't they be ironed before the photo session?). Also, mine aren't flares or low rise. These cost $158. That's outrageous. It makes me flush to think about it. Mine are Ralph Lauren and I think I paid $3 for them at the Discovery Shop. Beautiful fabric and fit. Smug attack.

Speaking of colors, I mended some cotton gloves today. I'd been trying to think of something that work like a skinny darning egg, and finally came up with a fat colored marker. It's about the size of my index finger, which is where I always poke through. I don't like heavy gloves, but the thin ones don't last long.

Speaking of thread, I used a close match from a wooden spool from my mother's sewing cabinet. When's the last time you saw one of those? These spools belonged to my husband's grandmother, Neno, so I'm guessing they are maybe 60-70 years old because I've had them almost 50.

You know who you are

Someone I love is trying to quit smoking. I suggested he take one day at a time, and he assured me an hour might be a bit much. Then I saw this quote at Dancing Boys Mom. Is this great, or what?
    I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once--Ashleigh Brilliant
I smoked a few cigs in college--had gained some weight. My roommate, daughter of a doctor, thought it might work. Stupid 60s. Fortunately, they tasted so bad, stung my nose, burned my eyes and made my breath stink, so I didn't continue. Can't imagine the attraction for those just starting. That's a lot of hurdles to try to look cool.

If only it were this easy

Si. No. Per piacere. Grazie. Prego. Parla inglese? Che? Vorrei vedere il cartellino dei colori.



Looking ahead to our trip.

What's a blog bar?

It's a way for the consumer to get involved--immediately. Computer terminals at the location (store, show, museum, library) allow real time input. I saw this at Trend Central via Library Marketing (her link didn't work; use mine).

"The Metropolitan Museum of Art is currently (i.e. Dec. 24, 2007, the date I saw this) hosting a blog bar, with eight computer terminals, at their current blog.mode: addressing fashion exhibition. The public can post their reactions to the show and ask questions which curators will respond to; in short, the blog bar is meant to “provoke commentary.” Excerpts of the blog will be included in the post-show book in order to document the impact of the exhibit and attendees’ participation."

I haven't seen a blog bar, but Sunday we did attend the final day of the Monet's Garden exhibit at the Columbus Museum of Art. It was very crowded. We weren't the only ones who waited for the last day. But I understand Saturday was even worse, with lines circling around the entry to the exhibit twice. We went right after first service at church, then stayed for lunch in the lovely restaurant/buffet designed by my husband many years ago. If CMA had had a blog bar, I might have commented how much more I enjoyed the American impressionists, because I liked seeing figures in the paintings. Blobs of color don't excite me too much. I probably wouldn't have "provoked commentary," except from my husband who doesn't do computers and would have been ready to move on to another exhibit, so it would have been a short message.

3WW--Three Word Wednesday

Today, January 23, the words are
    Breath
    Scattered
    Tomorrow
For Mother, who died on January 24

Tomorrow she will be gone;
her breath scattered,
her words silenced.

Only her deeds will remain.


Bone posts 3 words on Tuesday night or Wednesday. The challenge is for you to write an essay, poem, thought, etc. using the three words, post that at your own site, then comment at the 3WW site, and the others who are participating. See you there. Or here. OK?

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

4554

His father's heart

The excerpt from Steve McKee's book, "My father's heart" in today's Wall St. Journal was riveting. I thought I'd forgotten most of that phase of Dad's life. How different it could have been for our family if he hadn't quit when he started to cough up blood.
    On Sept. 30, 1969, 16-year-old Steve McKee watched his father die of a heart attack on the couch in their TV room. A lifelong smoker, John McKee had already been stricken by a heart attack six years earlier. But, unable to quit his three-pack-a-day habit, he made no lifestyle changes that might have prolonged his life. Deeply disappointed by his father's seeming surrender to cardiovascular disease, Mr. McKee -- now an editor at The Wall Street Journal -- set out to find the man who died before his son could know him. With this memoir, he sought to find a measure of understanding for his father, and anyone affected by smoking and heart disease. . . .
My father and my father-in-law both stopped smoking cold turkey as they began to move beyond the line of two packs a day. Dad was probably 36 or 37 when he began to cough blood; my husband's father was older, maybe in his 50s when one night out with his friends he started to open that third pack, he put it down and quit. My dad lived to 89; my husband's dad to 91; my husband's step-father, also a very heavy smoker who didn't quit, to 75; my husband's step-mother, also a smoker, died at 71 of lung cancer. All began smoking in their teens and really enjoyed it.
    "My sister Kathy and I woke up every morning to the sounds of the same alarm clock: Dad's cough, his cigarette hack. Breath in. Pause. HACK. (Catch) Cough. They came in stanzas--three, four, five at a time, the second-to-last always the biggest crescendo." writes McKee
Oh, I remember that cough. We children had never known anything else but Dad's coughing. And the blue haze everywhere in the house if he was home. In those days, I didn't find the smell unpleasant like I do now. It was always a mix of after shave, hair cream, cigarettes and fuel oil. But what must my mother have thought? Neither of her parents smoked. Her mother was a health-nut--wouldn't even eat red meat, and she was always airing out the house.

Dad told me 40 years later that he wanted a cigarette for 20 years. When I was younger, I didn't think about that too much. But now I'm in awe of his focus, drive and determination. He was not always a pleasant person to be around when I was growing up. I wonder now if he just wanted a cigarette, if his head hurt, his eyes burned and his skin crawled for nicotine. My parents weren't social like McKee's parents. Dad dealt with people all day, 12 hours a day and a houseful of noisy children at night. And all the while, craving a cigarette, knowing that would take the edge off.

I won't be reading the book, but I'll remember it could have been me.

Link to the review is here.

Better safe than snowy

When I left the coffee shop this morning, there was about 1/2" of snow on all my windows, the mirrors, the head lights, hood, roof, etc. I only live 1/2 mile away. But I took out the brush and cleaned it all off. Most accidents happen close to home. I didn't any want loose snow to be picked up from the hood and plastered against my windshield or from my roof on to the next guy. Not everyone was as careful, so I had to watch them too.

Here's what's happening a bit north of us as of 2 p.m. today--looks like Illinois, Wisconsin, Michigan, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York.
    "GRAND RAPIDS, Mich. (AP) - A foot of snow blanketed parts of Michigan and Wisconsin during the night, closing schools Tuesday and causing numerous traffic accidents. At least three traffic deaths were blamed on the weather in Michigan. Winter weather also was blamed for deaths in Oklahoma and Kentucky.

    Snow started falling Monday and continued early Tuesday, piling up about a foot deep in western Michigan and up to 13 inches deep in some areas of southeastern Wisconsin. The snowfall started diminishing Tuesday in western Michigan, where the National Weather Service canceled a winter storm warning.

    Nearly every school was closed in the Grand Rapids region."
Did you see that Baghdad had snow last week for the first time in about 100 years? That must have been exciting for the kids.

Omaha and Chickadee

The spell-check in my Outlook e-mail program wants to change Huckabee to Chickadee and Obama to Omaha.

Cat behavior

Rebellion. Yesterday I had my hands in the meat ball mix and the cat jumped up on the kitchen table and sat there looking at me. "Oh no. That's not allowed," I said. She looked at me and thought, "Oh yeah, and what are you going to do about it?"

Today my husband says he saw her on the dining room table. He told her to get down. She just looked at him defiantly.

Earlier today she was sitting in my lap while I was blogging. I started to absent mindedly pet her--maybe a little rough--while I was thinking. She raised her head and wrapped her jaws around my thumb, pressing gently. "Oh no. We don't bite the mommy," I said quietly. Our eyes locked. Hers narrowed. She let go.

I am alpha-cat.

Cleaner air

I'd forgotten about this until I came across it in my blog.
    The black-out last summer (August 2003) that affected northern Ohio, Michigan and many eastern states, caused cleaner air. It sharply reduced the concentrations of ozone and sulfur dioxide. Maybe we could just shut everything down for a week every August and forget all the rules and regulations, if it is that easy.
Nah. The Democrats want to shut it all down, all the time, except for their private jets and big estates.
4549

DNA = Darn Nuisance Again

It's in our genes. Something in our DNA gurgles forth when we find a problem on the web. Talking with other librarians at the retirees lunch last Friday I realize I'm not the only one who gets sidetracked in the middle of researching something to offer the webmaster or IT staff some suggestions about broken links, links that misdirect, or bad printing advice. It just happened again, although not at a library or church site (where I usually suggest they at least mention the name of the town or city when giving the street address). This was a very lovely letter from Campus Crusade for "Rapid Deployment Kits" providing spiritual resources for our troops. Because my husband doesn't use the computer (and sleeps in longer than I do and I would forget this by the time we see each other), I wanted to print it. We usually consult with each other before straying from our list of parachurch donations.

To print a webpage I first do a print preview, because I hate getting that 3rd or 4th page with one line of advertising on it. But some web pages get around this by printing the pretty stuff (don't know the technical term) on page 1 after you've adjusted your printer to print only one page based on a "print preview." So after it spits it out, you have the colorful heading and no letter. For some reason, my printer (HP Photosmart, 3 in one, don't ever buy one), will then grab 5 or 6 pages if you try to turn that sheet over and print the "real" information, jamming as it goes, requiring a 5 minute hassle when all you wanted to do was donate $10 so a soldier in Iraq or Afghanistan will have a New Testament.

After the paper is unjammed and you have the letter (if you have librarian DNA), you then stop to send the company webmaster/IT staff an e-mail explaining how they could be more helpful to the ordinary reader who isn't 21 years old and gaming in their off time. It takes awhile to do this because the comment window is well hidden behind the FAQ which they want you to read first. Since they rarely acknowledge that their own stuff might be unhelpful, printing instructions are rarely included in an FAQ (also printers differ). The easiest thing is to have a "print only this page" or similar option, but that might leave out the advertising, so not all sites offer this. My prontomail e-mail is a mess to print. I have to copy and drop it in a word processing document or it tries all sorts of funny things. No matter what I comment on, they tell me to clear my cache.

I tried to order 2 books for my husband and his friend from Amazon. I had checked it out of the library for him (he also never goes to a library) and he loved it. Amazon offered me an additional 30% off if I'd get their charge card. I don't really want another charge card, but I thought it might be useful for ordering books. "Just a few seconds" ran into many minutes and gazillions of pages of tiny print I'm sure no one but a librarian would read, so I backed out of that and went back to my one credit card. Five times I tried. Five times it told me I didn't enter select the name of the card (but I did). So I backed out again, and decided I would just go up the street to Barnes and Noble and talk to a human being and tell them I wanted to order 2 copies of one title for 2 retired architects who want to own the wonderful book on architectural drawings that's available at UAPL.

But my DNA kicked in and I stopped to search for the comment window (not easy to do) and tell them about the problem. After 3 days, I finally got a response, apologizing for nothing, and telling me I hadn't selected the right card name (I only have one card so I think I know which company I use), or my number didn't match their database (why is my number in their database?) or other snarky suggestions. I wrote back that I'd done it all correctly and I was going to a bookstore, but their response was automated and said I couldn't reply to their reply! I will waste no more valuable librarian DNA on Amazon. They can just keep their old books.

When I shared with the retirees group my opinion on the lack of flexibility and awkwardness of "digital repository" software (many libraries use the same program which looks like no librarian ever sat on the selection committee) one retiree told me I should volunteer for the committee at OSU that handles that. A committee? No way! If I wanted to spend my life on a committee I wouldn't have retired.

Rant over. I feel better.

Monday, January 21, 2008

4548

"It's OK"

That was my husband's response when I asked if he liked my new dessert. He usually goes over the edge with compliments--truly one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. "Not fabulous? Terrific? Just OK?" I asked. "It's OK," he repeated. I must have been inspired after writing my Monday Memories about Mother's kitchens. It started out as a way to use up a little dab of fresh pineapple that was getting old, with some apples going soft, some coconut getting dried out, and some dried bananas of undetermined age, with what was left of the golden raisins and dried apricots, simmered in a little orange juice. I divided it into 6 pudding cups, cooled it, topped with sugar free Cool Whip and refrigerated.

He was watching me from the kitchen table make my sweet sour meat balls--one can each of sauerkraut, whole cranberry sauce and jar of chili sauce, mixed and set aside; then pour over lightly browned meat balls, which are made with whatever bread crumbs you have on hand, 2 eggs, 2-3 lbs or so of ground beef, and a package of Lipton onion soup. Bake for an hour at 375. Leftover sauce and meatballs freeze nicely.

Now, I'm convinced it's the Lipton's that really makes this, not the sauce--although it is very good. And I was out of Lipton's. Don't make this recipe if you don't have it. So I lightly grilled some fresh onions and mushrooms in about a 1/2 cup of bouillon and chopped them up fine. I suspect it will be "OK," but won't be fabulous.

After I finished the meatballs I had one of the fruit compotes. It was OK. Next time, I'll leave out the dried bananas.

All this culinary effort has made me sleepy. I'm down for a nap. Love retirement.


Three Word Wednesday for Monday Memories

Bone posts "three words every Wednesday (perhaps Tuesday night even, oh wishful thinker that I am). Your mission is to write something"--a poem, story, sentence, anything–using all three words. Then you leave a comment at the 3WW site letting people know they should visit your blog. For January 16 the 3WW cue was
    Awkward
    Kitchen
    Obsessed
<--------------------------------->

My mother wasn't obsessed with remodeling the awkward kitchen in the homes my father bought, but her eyes widened and her fingers seemed to twitch when she first saw them. Every house my father found seemed to have an outdated kitchen--and sometimes Mother hadn't seen the house before he purchased it. The earliest home I remember at 203 East Hitt Street in Mt. Morris was not old enough to be horribly outdated--being perhaps 30 years old--but it probably received fresh paint and new curtains for the southern exposure kitchen window. The wall cabinets had heavy pull-out drawers. I remember dragging them out like stair steps for climbing to reach something. And then falling.

The first home in Forreston was a disaster--an old 19th century farm house with a cold water hand pump in the kitchen and an outdoor toilet. Mother rose to the challenge, remodeling the kitchen and installing a bathroom using one of the smaller bedrooms. When it was livable, dad bought a very nice brick home a few blocks away. It was well designed with beautiful woodwork and amazing closets (each closet had a closet), but the kitchen sink with a sloping drain board hung on the wall. Even a skirt to disguise it didn't help and the ice box (no refrigerator) was on the back porch. Mother went to work and built a standard sized sink cabinet and bought a refrigerator, and then built an eating nook with a wrap around bench which was all the rage then. But the bold colors of the late 1940s were her undoing. I think she clipped too many articles from Better Homes and Gardens, because she painted the linoleum deep maroon, and speckled it (sort of like the 90s craze for faux painting) by dipping a crumpled newspaper in white paint and patting it on the maroon floor. It looked like a frisky puppy ran through spilled paint and dashed through the kitchen.

In 1951 Dad bought several different houses in Mt. Morris, the first two being too small for a family of six, so he traded the second for our wonderful home at 4 South Hannah in March, again with an awkward, dated kitchen. I've used this photo before, but it's all I have to show the features--the old turn of the century wall cabinets to the ceiling with work space about 12" deep, radiator for heat over which Mother had built a shelf, a very tall window, and a wood table heavy with paint. What you don't see is the sink behind me hanging on the wall next to a bathroom door. The bathroom had been installed in what was probably the "carriage porch," and had four doors and a washer and dryer--a door to the backyard and the kitchen plus two other doors to the basement and the music room/dad's office. In front of me in this photo was a door and a window to an enclosed back porch which had cabinets for storage. Mother remodeled this kitchen in late 1955 and again we had a table with a built in bench (they really aren't very convenient, but were very popular then). She only enjoyed it three years.


Their final house in Mt. Morris at 315 East Lincoln Street was probably less than ten years old when they bought it in 1958, and although not dated, the kitchen was awkward and tiny. Out came Mother's box of magazine clippings and down came some walls. She hired a carpenter who built her dream design--a wonderful plan that lasted her over thirty years, and cost at least half the value of the house (which is probably why dad didn't sell it).

In the 1960s she began remodeling her parents' home place as a retreat center, a huge house between Franklin Grove and Ashton. She had tongue and groove cabinetry installed to match some of the original from 1908, and removed the cook stove to install a washer and dryer enclosed behind doors. It was a wonderful, bright and airy gathering spot.

Mom had one last kitchen to tackle before her final reveal. When she and dad moved into their retirement home in Pinecrest Apartments in 1997 their unit was quite new, but not convenient for a short, 80-something woman with a few opinions about kitchens. She hired a carpenter to build in sliding and roll out shelves in all the kitchen cabinets for easy access. She didn't do much cooking during her final years, but she was quite proud of her efforts and when her daughters and grand daughters visited, we appreciated again her knack for handling bad kitchens.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Pinky and the Sauerkraut Queen

About two years ago in one of my Monday Memories posts I wrote about how horse crazy I was as a child. In that story, I told about Pinky, a fat white pony who was blind. I've now heard from two other women, a bit younger than me, who knew Pinky. Luann found the blog because she was the last Sauerkraut Queen of Forreston, Illinois in 1960 (which I had blogged about), and Carol, because her family owned him. Carol writes:
    Pinky was not an albino, he had brown spots. You probably don't remember but he had a spot on his back about the size of a saddle. He lived to be about 30 years old. He was the BEST. I'm glad you are making him famous, he deserves it. Many children learned how to ride on him. My folks got him when I was a year old and use to turn him loose in the house yard with me on his back. He was my babysitter.
Luann, the last Sauerkraut Queen, also learned to ride on Pinky. A great horse with a big heart. I'm hoping someone has a photo.

Update: Here's a photo of Pinky babysitting Carol.



Here's Pinky with a load of kids.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Eco-Shaker Architecture

Reading through this competition notice ($20,000 prize for gullible students with a valid .edu address), I thought: "But what if this is just part of the "normal" historical warming and cooling cycle? Like what put Ohio under a glacier a few thousand years ago. Like what made Lake Erie rise and fall, shrink and grow? What if you are killing off the very technology that will save us all from a very natural phenomenon?
    The solution to global warming, according to Mazria, is two-fold. “Energy use is at the heart of global warming. There are two sides to energy use, supply and demand, so any viable solution must address both sides of this coin,” he says. On the supply side, Mazria advocates first for a U.S. and then a global moratorium on the construction of any new conventional coal plants and the gradual phasing out of existing coal plants by 2050. On the demand side, he advocates for adoption and implementation of The 2030 Challenge, a global initiative calling for all new buildings and renovations to reduce their fossil-fuel greenhouse-gas-emitting consumption by 50 percent by 2010, and that all new buildings be “carbon neutral” by 2030.
So you thought it was the automobile, or factories? No. Architects say 50% is caused by the building trades--and boy, are they going after the profits of rebuilding, renovating, refitting, recaulking, everything they can get their green fingers on! A global moratorium. I guess that means more power for the U.N. Sorry Africa. First no DDT to help with your health problems, now no energy for jobs. We've got ours. If you're black, get back.

Good for a cardio workout

even if you don't get out of your chair. My husband leads a group of ladies in an exercise class. He selects his own music, some of it pretty lively. I used to attend, but the church fellowship hall is carpet over concrete, and my hip joints didn't like that, so now I just walk outside. Anyway, back to the heading. Back in Skinny Jeans says this is a great cardio workout. I'll play it for my husband, but I'm betting we don't have the CD!

My heart rate went up just listening to it, which is why I don't go to the X-Alt services at church. Loud. Thump-de-dump. Noise. People think they are having a spiritual experience, but the noise is just changing their heart rate. But then, Bach can do that too. I'm listening to his concertos as I type. (Michael Murray, Bach, The organs at First Congregational Church, Los Angeles)

Friday, January 18, 2008

High pitched whine

The last few times I've used my wonderful Panasonic vacuum cleaner there has been a really ugly whine. Hurt-my-ears-whine. Call-for-service-whine. Cat-runs-out-of-the-room-whine. My husband mentioned that when he vacuumed his office yesterday that it seemed to be missing a lot. I looked for my replacement bag stash, and set out to change the dirt bag, because I had no idea when I'd last done that. I remember the "elderly" lady from whom we bought our summer cottage in 1988 (a little older than I am now) had a little note attached to the spare bags about when the last change occurred. Guess I need to do that. When I finally wrenched the front off that machine you should have seen the bag--it was about to pop and the attached opening was a solid mass of cat hair. I'll bet it weighed 5 lbs. With the new bag, there is no whine. Problem solved.

Now, another old bag whine.

I was the hostess today for a luncheon of 10 retirees from OSUL and I selected the golf course club house. As I came in I saw on the board that the special was "Shrimp panini with drink." Sounded good. So I ordered it. When we were served I got this very strange looking thing--looked like 2 pieces of toast. I opened it up and saw a few mushrooms. I called the waiter over and asked him if he saw any shrimp. So he whisked away the plate and took it to the kitchen. One of the guests had come in late, and when she already had her food and I had none, I could see that everyone else would be finished before I got my food. I flagged down the waiter again. He assured me it was being taken care of. Another 5 minutes. I waved him down again, and told him (I didn't really whine, but I was starting to flush), I would go to the buffet and he should cancel my order. Again, he assured me it would only be a few minutes. In my firmest voice I said, CANCEL THE ORDER. I'M GOING TO THE BUFFET TABLE. And I did. I got some veggies, a little fruit and some sort of odd sausage. When everyone else got a check I asked for mine and he apologized and said there would be no charge. He also told me that it was a misprint--it should have said "Shroom Panini" not Shrimp Panini, but it was written wrong, and he also said it wrong in announcing the specials.

So I have no idea what they were trying to fix in the kitchen while I waited 10 minutes. Funny thing is, he said three other people in the dining room had ordered the Shrimp Panini, and no one said anything!

Violence against children

Two articles yesterday about violence against children. Bullying and violence are going up in the pre-school age group--yes, little ones are smacking each other around, biting and bullying is on the increase among 3 and 4 year olds. The "experts" are baffled by the trend. Maybe it's because spanking has been outlawed? "Immediate consequences" may be best understood with a well-placed smack on the rear, but I'm sure that doesn't get approval today. Also, turning them loose to run around outside would probably do a lot and get them away from computer kiddie games.

But violence against the unborn is going down. Hurrah! Abortions are at their lowest level since 1976. The rate of women of child bearing age getting abortions fell about 9% between 2000 and 2005. They can't identify the reason for that either. Maybe it's the moral force of a pro-life president?