For Janiece

Boo hiss. Can’t be embedded. Sorry, you’ll have to go to YouTube to watch it.

Also for my ex-roommate Steve Kulley.

So when we did the Grandmom exchange at Hancock, I picked up some fresh local apples.

Actually, I picked up a LOT of apples, because I prefer a variety of apples in my pie.

With just three of us, an entire pie is just a bit too much–either I’ll eat too much pie, or the pie will go bad before we can finish it. So last year I ordered individual pie slice dishes from the King Arthur Flour Catalog.

First things first, I had way to much filling for the dishes, so the apples didn’t cook down as much as they could have. I also guesstimated the amounts for the other ingredients, but that worked out pretty well.

I used three different kinds of apples for this pie. Matsu, Northern Spy, and Rambo. The Rambo were too soft for my liking (it all but fell apart in the peeler) but since the pies needed to be jucier, they might work well anyway.


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I’m actually not that worried, for several reasons.

First, although Wall Street is in a tizzy, I’m not sure that a longer look at the financial recovery bill is such a bad idea. After all the Bush administration rushed the PATRIOT Act through and look what that got us. So I believe thinking things through before taking actions is a good idea. Especially by individuals who were telling us up until a couple weeks ago that the economy was in fine shape.

But primarily I’m not stressed because my grandmother is taking things in stride.

My grandmother’s family lost almost everything in the Great Depression. The whole family even had to move in with her oldest brother, when they thought they would lose their house (they did keep their house, but that’s about all the kept.) (How’d you like to have your parents and most of your seven siblings move in with you?)

In the 80s, my grandmother inadvertently put her money into a savings and loan. (The S&L lead its customers to think they were FDIC insured.) The S&L tanked, and it was only after years and the intercession of the state of Maryland that she got her money back. (The governor said that because people were tricked into believing that their accounts were backed by Maryland, it was the state’s responsibility to help recover the money.)

So twice in her life my grandmother has lost much due to the vagaries of the market. And twice she has gotten through it fine, even if things were difficult for a period.

Her attitude towards current events, despite the fact that some of her investments from when she sold her house are doing as well as you’d expect, lead me to be able to take a deep breath, consider our financial position, and say, y’know? We’re gonna be okay. We’ve got family and we all look out for each other and that’s what gets you through.

I’ve seen seven people already today sleeping–one sitting straight up at his computer with his hand on the mouse.

And it’s not even midterms!

In theory, everything is now transferred to Dreamhost.

If you’re poking around, let me know if anything is not working correctly.

Fall is most definitely here.

Plants are dying back, and now the stems and flower heads of my plants will feed birds for awhile.

Brown is starting to take over the garden, although I still have a few plants with fall and winter color.

For weeks and weeks the echinacia was covered in bees and butterflies. Now it be covered in small birds.

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oaf \OHF\ noun
1 : a stupid person : boob
*2 : a big clumsy slow-witted person

Oaf is almost as good word as trollop.

anathema \uh-NATH-uh-muh\ noun
1 a : one that is cursed by ecclesiastical authority *b: someone or something intensely disliked or loathed
2 a : a ban or curse solemnly pronounced by ecclesiastical authority and accompanied by excommunication b : a vigorous denunciation : curse

My favorite use of the word anathema was in Robert B. Parker’s “Small Vices”

Since my name was anathema at Pemberton, I had to employ guile. I called the alumni office and said my name was Anathema and I was with the IRS.

It’s once again Banned Book Week.

Here is the list of the most challenged books of 2007

1. “And Tango Makes Three,” by Justin Richardson/Peter Parnell
2. “The Chocolate War,” by Robert Cormier
3. “Olive’s Ocean,” by Kevin Henkes
4. “The Golden Compass,” by Philip Pullman
5. “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” by Mark Twain
6. “The Color Purple,” by Alice Walker
7. “TTYL,” by Lauren Myracle
8. “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,” by Maya Angelou
9. “It’s Perfectly Normal,” by Robie Harris
10. “The Perks of Being A Wallflower,” by Stephen Chbosky

Here are the top 100 challenged books 2000 to 2007. (Books I’ve read are bold)

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Time is running out if you want to cash in on Baby Promotions!

It starts in just under an hour.

Lets hope this is the game where the team gels!

ADDENDUM the First:
Whew! Still 7 – nothing!

ADDENDUM the Second:
ARRRRRRRRGGGGHHHH!

(whew)

ADDENDUM the Third:
Straighten up guys! Penalties are KILLING us!

ADDENDUM the Fourth:
Halftime score is 14 to 3.

Come on guys! Make Pat White look good!

ADDENDUM the Fifth:
WAH! Pat White is off the field with an injury!

ADDENDUM the Sixth:
Final score: 27 to 3

I’ve noticed something interesting over the past several years. WVU seems to play better in the second half than in the first half. The penalties seemed to stop plaguing us in the second half. Special teams seemed to bomb every time they set foot in the field, but the defense really seems to be coming together. I loved how Pat White and Jarret Brown were sharing the quarterbacking, Noel Devine is really starting to look good, but there were still some rough edges to the offense.

So special teams needs some work, and I think they need to give out pushups to everyone who made a stupid penalty, but overall it was a satisfying game.

I was just replying to an e-mail from my aunt, when the spellchecker (from google toolbar I think) told me that I’d misspelled “afterwards” (see! there it goes again!) and gave me the options “afterward” and “afterwords”.

So I looked it up, and apparently “afterwards” is a variant.

Really?

Using “afterward” sounds weird to me. I’m sure I’ve heard it before and thought nothing of it, but when composing my own sentences it just doesn’t sound right. Is this a regional thing? If so, what regions does it encompass? Is it a national thing? I have no idea.

It just struck me as extremely odd to learn that I’d been using a variant all my life without even knowing it. And I’m going to keep using it, so take THAT Google Toolbar spellchecker and put it in your custom dictionary!

My he be remembered for being a good and decent human being, as well as an actor.

Appetizer:
Sesame Noodles

Dinner:
Cripsy Bean Curd in Garlic Sauce
Sesame Noodles

Dessert:
Sesame Noodles

(contented sigh)

They’re still doing it!

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MUAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

I told you Kat had been eerily affectionate recently.

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A question to everyone who says they will not be participating in the upcoming election because “their vote doesn’t count.”

Are you really that stupid?

Seriously?

First, may I remind you of the contested counties that held up the declaration of the 2000 presidential election. However, I’ll accept your points about the electoral college, because they don’t matter.

One third of the Senate is up for the election in November. I very much like Jay Rockefeller, so I want to show my support for him in November.

Even more important, the entire House of Representatives is up for election.

For those of you who weren’t paying attention in your history and civics classes, in the United States, power is divided between three branches, and these branches have to work together.

A president cannot run roughshod over the country without the assistance of the House and Senate. Remember the Patriot Act and how it slipped through Congress without much of a glance or a fuss? Are you paying attention now? The president is again trying to shove legislation down the throats of Congress, but this time they’re saying, “Not so fast! Let me take a look at that first!”

That’s difference is one of the things you’re voting for in November. Do you want a Congress that will blindly accede to the wishes of the President, or do you want a Congress that will think for itself and vote the conscience of the people (that would be you by the way)?

That decision lies in your hands.

Then there is the third branch of the the US government, the Judicial branch. Yes, Supreme court and appellate court judges are appointed by the president, but that is only with the “advice and consent” of the Senate. It is the duty of Congress to keep the president from appointing judges that are too far from the main stream.

Then we have state and local elections. Here we are electing the governor (not much of a race, unfortunately), the Secretary of State, and even a State Supreme Court of Appeals Justice. In many ways, these races affect our lives even more than federal races.

WV has a Senate and a House of Delegates, and those Delegates are once again up for election. These are the people who determine state law: Blue laws, speed limits, drinking age.

And then there may be county and city elections as well. These officials control property taxes and school funding and the drivability of your roads (and let me tell you I am still bitter about the failure of Mon county to fund the infrastructure changes we so desperately need–and that failure lies directly in the hands of city and county officials who failed to convince the public of the importance of those projects.)

My point is that–not that you could tell it from the TV coverage–far more is happening in November than the decision between McCain and Obama. These state races have just as much–if not more–influence upon the US government, and these are the races that we the voters control.

So don’t tell me your vote doesn’t matter, because I don’t buy it. (Not even for $10 or a bottle of whiskey.)

Loot for ME! Loot for ME! Loot for Me!

Yes, my prize for winning the Jim Wright is an Asshole contest has finally arrived!

And it’s actually a real prize this time!

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Now you know how I see myself.
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The hearts hung, dripping just a little, from the limb.

“They give them up so easily,” the little man said, as he sat on the ground and looked up at the hearts. “Well, the young ones do,” he clarified.

“What about the old ones?” The woman was perched above him in the tree.

“The old ones, well, they know what they’d be giving up, so they almost never make a deal.” The man picked up the staff sitting on the ground beside him, and poked at the heart on the end, causing it to turn gently.

“You get the hearts, what do they get out of it?”

“Well, they think there’s something wrong with their hearts. They claim the hearts are broken,” he poked at another heart, causing it to turn as well. “But look at them! They’re perfect!”

He was silent for a moment staring at the hearts. “They’re relieving a moment of pain in the now, and giving up all possibility of future happiness. It’s madness, truly.”

“I still don’t understand how they could make such a deal.”

The man leaned back against the trunk of the tree. “Tis the nature of mortality I suppose. Life is fleeting and short, so they want happiness now.” He looked up at the woman. “They have a phrase that explains it as much as anything, I suppose.”

He straightened up and cleared his throat. “Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die.”

“I don’t get it,” she said. “It’s possible they could die on the morrow, but if they don’t, how can they be merry without their hearts?”

“Ah,” the little man replied, “that’s the rub. They can’t. ‘Course being as I’m the one collecting the hearts, I find it in my best interest to keep that part quiet.”

“So you do trick them,” she looked down at the little man accusingly.

“Some might claim that. But they should know what they’ve giving up, before they make the offer.”

“You mean they come to you?” She was incredulous.

“Yes, they do.” He opened the bag lying at his side and poured out a handful of golden coins. “They willingly trade cold rocks for their hearts.”

“Willingly?”

“Oh yes,” he replied, “eagerly even.”

She climbed down from the tree, her skirts flowing around her as she moved.

“Well, if it’s willing…”

“I thought I could convince ye lassie. These three are promised out, but I’ve two left. One for you, and one for me.” He plucked a heart from the branch and handed it to her.

She held it delicately in her palm, staring at it. “How long does it last?”

“About a fortnight, more or less.” He reached out and plucked the largest heart for himself. “Are ye ready?”

She nodded, and then pressed the bloody mass to her chest. After a second she gave a gasp and stared a the man, who had pressed his selection into his own chest. He walked over towards her and lifted her chin with his hands, leaving a smear of blood on her jaw. “Did I not tell you?” And with that he took her in his arms and lead her back to the tree.

(Inspiration here)

Equals–just maybe–the future of space travel.

Chinese researchers claim they’ve confirmed the theory behind an “impossible” space drive, and are proceeding to build a demonstration version.

With all the craziness over my website, I have completely neglected to mention that this week is the Buckwheat Festival!

Local buckwheat is in the stores, and you can head over to Preston County for buckwheat cakes.

Which is what we had for dinner today. Mmmmmm!

Man charged with battery in addition to DUI.

All I have to say is that my husband had better be careful.

I was finishing changing into my gym clothes when a woman walked over to me and said, “I remembered my top today!”

I surreptitiously glanced around while she was putting down her bag, to see if she was talking to someone else.

No one else in the locker room.

“I brought two of ‘em this time, since I forgot my top last time,” she clarified.

I made a non-committal noise and tried to finish getting ready, perhaps just a little faster.

She began to change. “Gotta take my bra off. When it gets wet, y’know…”

“Yeah,” I said, and shoved by gym bag in the locker, grabbing my mp3 player and the lock. “Have fun!” I said as I hurried out the door.

Of course she was there when I was done working out. She’d showered and was now finishing her dressing.

“Almost left my clothes in the shower!” she said. “Almost forgot my clothes!”

“That would be bad,” I acknowledged, trying to balance on one foot while trying to put on my pants without touching the locker room floor. She wandered over to the shower to retrieve her clothing. She took several moments in the process, rather surprising considering the size of the locker room.

She finished getting dressed and I had a chance to survey her clothing: a too large, somewhat ratty t-shirt; shorts that were really too small short, all things considered; and support hose, two shades darker than her flesh, and pulled up to her knees.

“Better dry my hair,” she said. “Don’t wanna catch the pneumonia.”

“It seemed quite pleasant out,” I offered, shoving everything in my gym bag.

“I felt a chill when I came in!” she said, and wandered over to the hair dryers. “Don’t wanna get sick!”

“Have a good evening!” I called as I quickly walked out of the locker room.

I checked the thermometer in the car. It was 76 F.

And that’s pretty much exactly how it went.