This piece at Slate.com is brilliant stuff. Brilliant. And so very true – even if my own hand-drawn maps can be utter farces. This is the type of story idea and writing that makes me smile.
Yes, (or should it be “No,”) I don’t want to talk about the Capitals.
If you don’t know about it, because you don’t have kids in school and you can’t even fathom the thought of have kids around who are in school, you can follow your progeny’s progress and grades online these days. PowerSchool is the main supplier to schools and you get a login for your kid and checking up is easy enough. I look at L’s everyday so make sure she’s not missing assignments or doing poorly in certainly classes; consider it more prevention of a slide into oblivion. That’s a short story made long. I do want to pass along that she is getting a 100% in Ultimate Frisbee this quarter.
I haven’t pass this along to X yet, though this might be notification when she reads it, but I plan on doing nothing on Sunday aside from one or more of the following: museums, lunch out, a film, a play, a nap. She can have her choice. I’m willing to make a good run at stuff on Saturday but we haven’t taken a weekend day off for what seems like months.
School is going well this quarter and I’ve finally moved along from making sure everything gets cooked properly within our time lines to figuring out plating and presentation. In my kitchen, presentation is something akin to “here’s your food.” Now that I’m comfortable enough in my thinking that I’m not a totally gimp cook – and I really wasn’t to begin with but reassurances help – I have a little more foresight on how I’ll plate something and get $19.95 out of you for Crepes de leche de dulce; tip not included.
Our final pieces of the garden have arrived and the tomatoes (and peppers?) will be in the ground this week. I look at the vegetable garden this morning and on a scale of 1-10 the progress, so far, is simply dirt. And with that, I give you our President, consider me the reporter / farmer combo…
Saturday marked the final push of this year’s gardens. You might ask yourself, “What do you mean by gardens? How many did you have last year? How many do you have this year?”, and you be onside with those queries. To address those concerns, yes, gardensssss. We now have what could be called five gardens: our driveway Mediterranean herb-ish garden, two shade gardens (one in front, one in the back), a bigger vegetable patch on the side of the house, and a pumpkin/squash patch at the top of the backyard. As for last year? Well, I’d say we had three about the plot – a smaller veg patch, the driveway garden, and a square-foot garden of which we won’t speak. The garden construction really took hold two weeks ago when the six cubic metres of manure compost showed up in our driveway a few days after X received her two pre-planned shade garden plants. She worked the front shade garden, I helped out getting the veg patch in order, and then we called it a weekend. On Saturday we finished getting the vegetables in the ground and she blasted through the rear shade garden and pumpkin patch after I got as much compost into the back yard as was needed. She finally wrapped up about 8pm as the darkness fell and she could vaguely still see the ground. She was a tired and dirty pup when she came in the house at the fin. Rest assured, she got a nice trip to the day spa yesterday afternoon to get a bit of recovery time. We’ll take some pictures as all the life develops around The Hilltop.
Here’s an interesting finale to a case in Texas a few years ago. The Supreme Court dismissed a request for cert (I’m so legally!) last week in a once sentence release. Why this case is so bizarre isn’t so much because of the actual events between the judge and prosecutor but the responses of people who think about it and then post comments. Even though the article is clearly directly as the process – and not the guilt or innocence in the case – the law-and-order, badass, gun-toting, citizens can’t look passed the “guilty and fry him” mentality. If anyone with a sense of the judicial system can look at this case and say that that actions are defendable then we are really lost.
The Capitals failed to finish off the Canadiens at Verizon on Friday night and now how to play Game 6 in Montreal this evening. Friday’s game was so poorly played on their part – and I witnessed it – that the cliff-dwelling Caps’ fans are close to folding it up and giving in. Even though it wasn’t great, they’ll probably win tonight and all will be forgiven.
Here’s a strange article from the NYTimes last week. Well, I consider it strange because I love cilantro and can’t imagine a whole pod of people in this World who do dislike it. Julia Child? Really? I guess she never considered cilantro pesto on my flatbread with hummus and grilled shrimp.
The Eleven was at Verizon Center on Saturday night for the madness that was the Caps’ 2nd playoff game. The Caps came back from 4-1 down to tie it at 4-4, gave up another late goal to fall behind, and tied it again with little more than a minute to go. They won it 30 seconds into OT on a goal by Nicklas Backstrom. By the third period, amidst the craziness, even X was yelling about a interference penalty call across the ice. I think it was something along the lines of “Hey! Hal Gill’s a punk. Are you blind, ref? He can’t do that!” – she then threw her beer and started cussing. Okay, she didn’t do those last two (or use Hal Gill’s name) but she was offended by the interference. Just so you know, it was whistled as a penalty moments later.
We spent all day Saturday working on the lawn and gardens: I got the veg garden soil/compost in order and X labored through getting 50-ish plants into her new shade garden along our front porch/roses/walkway. By last summer it’ll look quite stunning; the veg didn’t get planted yet and the wind has kicked up so it might be a few days. We’ll keep you posted.
We hosted a dinner party for Kt’s work pals on Saturday night and everything worked out well. The original plan was for 10 or so but it ended up being more like 17 after the RSVPs were mailed and settled. We decided to skip the formal sitting portion (can’t manage that at our tables) and went with something along the lines of a buffet situation that, interestingly enough, ended up with everyone in a big circle sitting around our living room coffee table – you can’t do anything with guests.
I was worried about having enough food, and how to distribute the chow, so we ended up with huge dishes of golden, mushroom lasagna; Spanakopita; corn-and-goat cheese enchiladas with a mole sauce; a massive Greek salad, a green goddess salad, about a gallon of tzatziki, bread (brought by a guest), two huge sheets pans of roasted vegetables (parsnips, new potatoes, red and gold beets, red onions, turnips, garlic and freshly grated ginger), and two cheesecakes (also baked by a guest: one plain and one peanut butter). We had enough food – but not by a ton. I think the invitees were selected from Kt’s group of comrades based on their abilities to survive without huge hunks of meat…or any meat. As I pulled everyone over to the table / buffet to fire out a quick description I offered up the “there’s no meat, so don’t look for it” preamble. Truth be told, no one cared much and all the mains were absolutely destroyed before the evening was over. I think between the food, wine, and beer, everyone left sated. X and the boys were all over the housecleaning as I spent my day in the kitchen; they were a battalion (company?) of dedicated worker bees.
Did I pass along that we have something like 6 cubic metres of horse shit in our drive? Wait, call it compost. X has a great plan for two new shade gardens and we’re about ready to get the vegetable garden planted and on task – I don’t know if I can wait a few months for all my kitchen product to grow, bloom, blossom, or whatever else growing stuff does in dirt.
My latest selections for quality reading these days, at least in the periodical arena, are Steven Strogatz at the NYTimes, who writes great pieces on math; and, Matt Taibbi who primarily writes for Rolling Stone (which I haven’t read in years) and has been amazingly aggressive in covering the financial meltdown. You can get to Strogatz’s main page here and Taibbi’s main page here; and his latest RS piece here (I go printer friendly versions of Matt’s stuff and then read it in hardcopy.) From that RS page you can dig back deeper and read his other half-dozen stories on the financial world.
Even though I sometimes scroll through 2 or 3 pages of ‘comments’ on some stories or op-ed pieces, I rarely look at anything beyond the first few anymore…if that. I guess what I’m getting at is this: what drives a person to make a comment on a story when they see a meter saying that 1,234 people have already commented? Do you like yelling at a wall? Do you think anyone is going to, first of all, find your comment; and, secondly, send or post you a response saying how moved they were by your entry? Or, is it the yelling at the wall that gives people some sort of release? I’m also wondering about my online class this quarter (this being my first ever) that requires me to participate online, in commentary and threads, at least four days per week. I think there’s something like 25 folks in the ‘class’ and we all have a daily assignment to post and then we’re to post those additional four times about someone else’s entry. What are the odds that I, and I’m pretty diligent, am going to read beyond the first or second threat before I post? Zero, those are the betting odds. There’s no way I’m reading all 25 entries on three topics each day and then reading all the threads and finding what might tickle my fancy – not a chance. Of course, online isn’t the best way to learn and I understand this attempt at interaction but there really isn’t going to be any. Yelling at a wall.
Drilling and Obama. This is a parallel to a discussion the Eleven had about insulating a rental house that we might spend 3-5 years occupying but that is for another another another time. My first reaction, mild as it was, was that he was caving in on a campaign pillar and was ready to start drilling off the Atlantic and Alaskan coasts. My second reaction was stronger, and a counterweight, and fell in line with what we’ve seen of Obama for the last 16 months: patience. Let this develop and then determine its success. Third, maybe this is a bit political and I’m fine with that feeling. Taking it backwards now, if this is a political move then it simply has shut the door on the stupid “Drill, baby, drill” motto of Palin. If I never hear that again or see another sign in a yard calling for a fifteen-year fix to a “this summer” problem, then my days will be happier. Here’s a bit of the transcript of the speech:
“So today we're announcing the expansion of offshore oil and gas exploration, but in ways that balance the need to harness domestic energy resources and the need to protect America's natural resources. Under the leadership of Secretary Salazar, we'll employ new technologies that reduce the impact of oil exploration. We'll protect areas that are vital to tourism, the environment, and our national security. And we'll be guided not by political ideology, but by scientific evidence.
That's why my administration will consider potential areas for development in the mid and south Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico, while studying and protecting sensitive areas in the Arctic. That's why we'll continue to support development of leased areas off the North Slope of Alaska, while protecting Alaska's Bristol Bay.”
Of course, exploration, not drilling is the phrase he uses and that also says something about the patience and process involved in what he’s trying to accomplish. That sort of mitigates that first impression of caving, which I’ll get to in a second.
The patience part is just learned, the hard way. Being a liberal – and a Democrat – I often get swallowed up in waiting for the right thing, my priority, to get done. In the arena we’re living in that just isn’t going to happen. Maybe there will be 6-8 major successes in Obama’s first four years and maybe 3 or 4 will perfectly align with my hopes but that’s good enough, isn’t it? If the others are of benefit to the nation as a whole then I can live with it. It takes time. It takes effort. We’ll get there.
Now, about the caving part. If I believe in what I think I believe in, then drilling for oil domestically is neither here nor there on the grand scale. There are two parts to this process and the first is that America needs to use less energy. If this move, away from buying foreign oil (or oil from ‘terrorist’ gub’ments; remember that most of our foreign oil imports come from Canada – almost three times more than any other single country), then this is a great move. If we want to drill here and use our oil product as our primary supply then we have some serious usage to cut back on: and that fits perfectly into my hopes. What is the political challenge or response to not buying oil from our ‘enemies’ any more and using our own oil, even if it’s not enough? Are people going to start yelling for us to buy more oil from OPEC during the next election? The second, and even more damning portion, is the idea of a world environment. Why is it okay for oil and coal to be drilled and mined as long as it isn’t in America? If one were to believe the scientists (and who does? Those crazy malcontents) about global warming then it isn’t any better to drill here or there – drilling is drilling. And with that, I happened to trust this Administration to do a better job of protecting the environment, so I’ve got little problem with this decision. And, before anyone gets up in arms, this isn’t the same position the Republicans had in the last election. Their position was, and is, use more energy and in order to meet that demand drill more here. Drill more there. Drill some from my bones.
What this will be, in the end, is a policy that will allow us explore our options here, drill here if needed, and if that’s done then using it as a frontal attack on our energy consumption. When you look at from the point-of-view that environmental issues are not blocked by borders then it makes perfect sense.
And, to give you and idea of how the long view usually wins out if the strength is there…
As I said above, I don’t always get these things out of my wee head – X dives in, sorts it all out, and gives me the down-and-dirty as she sips on her wine and reads her Lucky magazine. Is that both a compliment and stereotype? Ah, whatever.
I broke out the old Jacobsen mower this afternoon for the first hell-and-down-and-up our yard for the new season. It didn't want to start up so much but managed to finally turnover and keep 'running' at about half-gasp for long enough to cut the mountain. A few things to consider from your mechanically-handicapped author: the mower was rolled in the shed at the end of last summer, the gas wasn't emptied, the oil was - well, who knows - the blade ain't never been sharpened in 2+ years, I think the Holley double pumper 750 is gummed up, and well, it's just a $20 used thing that I'm hoping gets through one more summer. It used to be propelled, long before we bought it, so I'm pushing a non-propelled, heavy-ass beast up and down the hill on The Hilltop. In betwixt my sets of 10 engine cord pulls and my resting (it's both aerobic and anaerobic!) I was taking a good, solid look at the mower - eyeing it up-and-down, bending low to check on the shocks, pushing this and pulling at that wire, messing with the throttle, and adjusting the catching bag. Anyone driving by would certainly have thought me a man of tools and means. Of course, what was going through my head was a memory of when Buzz (and I, observing) worked on a two-stroke mower back in England (are all mowers two-stroke?) Buzz was pulling plugs, checking carbs, and generally explainin' to me all the tricks of, what he dubs, "the World's simplest motor" - as if that meant diddily to a dolt like me. I also thought that it would be great to have Buzz down the street to come over and fix my shit. That's what I really wanted; I didn't give a rat's ass about knowing how to do something. Maybe if he pops over he can give me a haircut, play a saw, lose at Yahtzee, and then knock out four of five games of NHL 2000 on the computer. Well, none of that happened and I mowed the grass with a wheezing, sputtering, non-propelling relic of the 80s.
I'm back into class beginning tomorrow night - Tuesday through Thursday nights this round - but I'll have my weekends off for sleeping in. I was able to buy two of my textbooks via Kindle (I'm borrowing L's) so I save a load of cash. I'm in Nutrition (online), American Cuisine, and Latin Cuisine. Looking forward to another round.
The screened in porch is about 90% complete with one more weirdly-shaped roof panel and one screen remaining. Once that's done we'll do some sealing between pieces and call it summer.
I have interesting issues to bring up on Obama and drilling, most of which is stolen for X, but that'll be for another day.
By the way, that's not my mower up above, I'm just too lazy to go take a digital picture at 9pm
Here are some shots from the early morning jaunt Saturday AM. There was some debate from the peanut gallery about getting there at 6:30am but even then it was getting overcrowded. It ended up be a very nice and worthwhile trip even if we couldn't round up a breakfast joynt after we finished at 7:30am. L. was in charge of photos and did a stunning job.
