verbatim

Gorge-ous

Well, we're up in the White Mountains for the last blast of the summer; tomorrow's the big fair. Today we communed with nature in Franconia Notch. Here we are exploring the Flume Gorge:

It's breathtakingly beautiful. Steph was in full "This is so boring" mode, but Pete and Julie were all "Wow! Look at this! Look at that!"

Can you believe I've been coming up here several times a year since the late '80s and have never done this little hike? And it's only about 15 minutes from the house....

Oh, and here's our fearless leader, fresh from a visit to Polly's Pancake Parlor:

Cubicle Days

The fine folks at Mental Floss pose this question: In honor of Labor Day, who was your all-time worst co-worker?

Because it says co-worker, I'll save for another day a profile of my toxic boss. Yes, you could argue that even a boss is a co-worker, but not this one.

So my worst co-worker had to be this icky guy who sat next to me for many years. He wasn't a bad person, he just smelled that way. Or at least his lunch did. He usually brought some form of leftovers that stunk up the place when he reheated them in the microwave. Although sometimes he brought a cold lunch; I know this because one day I overheard him on the phone berating his wife for putting the items in his sandwich out of order. He was also a smoker who had one of those persistent coughs that sound like a hairball trying to get out.

He was majorly OCD, always doing everything in the exact same way at the exact same time, whether it was taking his coffee break or phoning his wife. He also had rigged up all these bizarre office accoutrement, my favorite being his Liquid Paper holster. He used masking tape to affix a 35mm film canister to his office wall at a 45° angle, just to the right of his desk. Securely sheathed inside was his bottle of Liquid Paper, so he could be ready to wipe out offending typos at any moment. I used to joke, more than a little warily, that he was the type to show up one day with a chainsaw and do us all in.

Then I got a promotion into a real office! With a door! And a window! Bye-bye, weird guy.

Friday iPod Random Ten

1. Traffic Jam - James Taylor
2. Back On My Feet Again - Randy Newman
3. Brave Companion of the Road (live) - Nanci Griffith & Bruce Cockburn
4. Easy Skanking - Bob Marley & The Wailers
5. Alison - Elvis Costello
6. Hold On, Hold On - Neko Case
7.  Canned Goods - Greg Brown
8. Blues Before Sunrise - Eric Clapton
9. Deep Dark Truthful Mirror (live) - Elvis Costello
10. All Around The World Or The Myth Of Fingerprints - Paul Simon

Still One Week To Go

Yesterday we finally received the kids' class placements for school (which starts next Thursday). Julie got the same beloved kindergarten teacher that Steph and Pete had, and she knows two girls in her class, so we're delighted. Both Steph and Pete, on the other hand, got different teachers than the ones they wanted (although I don't know whether either had any legitimate reasons for wanting one over another) and not a single one of their "top-tier" friends, despite my springtime letter-writing campaign. They're both disappointed, as am I. But I'm definitely looking forward to having all three kids in the same school for a whole year!

I See

I got a new pair of reading glasses. My pretty 125% pair is not quite strong enough anymore (sigh), so I keep them in my purse; my 150% pair—yes, the ones I wear on a chain around my neck all day at home—broke. These new ones are really too big for my face, but I like them. Julie saw me in them and said, "You look like someone who's good at science!"

I frequently forget I'm wearing them and end up keeping them on even when I'm not reading.

Meanwhile, I wish someone would make reading sunglasses. Yesterday at the beach I had to choose between my reading glasses and my sunglasses, and I can't possibly be the only person who's had this problem. I tried to wear both at once, but it didn't work.

Wiki Wednesday

Time to learn something!
1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. Click on "Random article" in the left-hand sidebar box.
3. Post it!

I got a disambiguation page:

Bulmer could be:

• A typeface
  • Bulmer, an English transitional classification serif typeface

• Geographical locations:
  • Bulmer, Essex
  • Bulmer, North Yorkshire

• People:
  • Bulmer (family), an English family
  • Bulmer, a Victorian historian, surveyor and compiler of directories
  • Esmond Bulmer (born 1935), former British Conservative MP
  • Kenneth Bulmer (1912-2005), a prolific British author
  • Roscoe Bulmer

• Companies:
  • H. P. Bulmer, English cider manufacturer
  • Bulmers, Irish cider manufacturer

I'm most interested in the typeface; here's how it looks:

Me like.

Just Another Day at the Beach

Today was an even better beach day than yesterday—both the air and the water were warmer, thanks to a milder breeze. And we brought towels this time. And, despite my upbringing, we bought the kids boogie boards. You see, my dad brought up his girls to play poker, drink rootbeer floats, and body surf. We don't need no stinkin' boogie boards! But, man, my kids had fun with them:

Beach Blanket Bingo

Hey, did I mention that Andy's off this week? We never did a Cape vacation this summer, so we're going to try to squeeze as much fun out of this week as possible. We woke up today to spectacular weather (not a cloud in the sky, temps in the low 80s, nice breeze), so we headed up to Good Harbor Beach in Gloucester. We inadvertently conducted an experiment: What would happen if you went to the beach without a single towel? Well, for one thing, you'd be damn glad that you never took all those collapsible chairs out of the back of the minivan after Little League ended in June. You'd set them all up in a circle under the umbrella and then not spread out the two beach blankets (formerly known as queen-size flannel sheets), reserving them instead for drying-off purposes. No problem! I also helped the cause by deeming the 62° Atlantic a wee bit too icy for more than my toesies, so I didn't even need to dry off.

We had such a nice day we're going back tomorrow! This time, with towels.

Two—Count 'Em, Two—Visits to the Cinema!

This is perhaps unprecedented: Andy and I went to a movie alone last night and then took the kids to another movie today!

Alone we saw "The Bourne Ultimatum," which was an extremely exciting, suspenseful, action-packed movie—almost too much for me, and you know I dig that stuff. Andy was actually shushing me at one point, when I was scrunched down in my seat with my hands partly covering my eyes, yelping "Oh! Ah! Yikes! Oy! Ugh!" That was during perhaps the most violent fist-fight I've ever seen on film. Wow. But ... There was an unforgivable moment at the end, when A Message was presented to us in such a ham-handed way that I snorted in my heart and soul (and possibly out my nose—you'll have to ask Andy). It nearly ruined the movie for me—really, don't you hate when people are trying to kill each other for 2 hours, and then when one of them finally has the other in his cross-hairs, they have to have a long discussion about all they've been through together? Give. Me. A. Break. But it was still as exciting as all get-out. Matt Damon has turned out to be a one-trick pony, but he does that one trick awfully well.

Today we decided that it was OK to take our 5-, 8-, and 10-year-olds to see a PG-13 movie, namely "The Simpsons." You know I love me some Simpsons, and I don't regret this. As I suspected, the more subtle humor (political jibes, wordplay) was lost on them, while the more blatant stuff (burps, naked butts, etc.) was harmless. I laughed out loud way more than once, and I still think this is the greatest comedy series ever created.

But. During the trailers, the film frame was off-kilter, so you saw the bottom half at the top and the top half at the bottom. I excused myself and went to complain; the problem was fixed. But. Several minutes into the movie, we couldn't help noticing that one of the main cinema lights was still shining right into our eyes. I went to complain again. The light stayed on, and then another one flashed on and off repeatedly. Finally, after about 30 minutes, all lights went out. I don't know about you, but when I spend big bucks to see a movie at the cinema, I want to lose myself in the movie, and I am pissed beyond belief when the Real World disrupts my experience. I eventually relaxed again, but then at the end, those big lights never came back on, so exiting the theatre with three young'uns was a wee bit treacherous.

At that point, Andy took Pete to the bathroom and I took Julie and Steph. Then, separately, we complained to cinema staff about the lighting problem and were each issued 5 free movie passes. Yeah, $100. Can do.

Movies

I thought "Gloomy Sunday" was an exquisite little movie from start to finish. It takes place in Budapest just before and during Hitler's rise to power, but that's only a side plot (as weird as that may seem). The main story is a (mostly happy) love triangle involving restaurant owner Laszlo, his piano player András, and the lovely waitress Ilona. All three performances were excellent, but I was particularly taken with Erika Marozsan as Ilona—wow! The other main character is Hans, a Nazi officer who also falls for Ilona (who wouldn't?). It does turn very sad, but it's so beautiful that it's most definitely worth watching.

Years ago, Andy read and loved a book called Point of Impact by Stephen Hunter. It was about Bob Lee Swagger, a former army sniper who is called in for an assignment but soon finds himself being set up by the FBI. "Shooter" is the film adaptation, and Andy knew before he even put the disc in that it would never live up to the book. Mark Wahlberg is good, but he never achieved the depth of character in the book. (Ain't that always the case?) As for me, I get so nervous and oogy whenever someone's being framed that I can barely stand it. Even as a child, I hated watching TV shows that centered around a "mixup"—and isn't that pretty much the basis for every sitcom plot from the '70s on? I just get too anxious waiting for the truth to come out and the wrongs to be righted. If you like fiery action scenes and cool guns, you might as well rent it, but all in all it was a disappointment.

Just a Little Milk, Please

Hey, anyone remember way back when I posted about those brownish mugs you could buy in the exact shade you want to match the color of your coffee or tea once you've added the desired amount of milk or cream? (No? Here you go.) Well, this goes one better:

Each mug has all the possibilities, so you can change your mind or lend your mug to someone else. Excellent.

Friday Fiver

Trust is what I'm offering

1. At the end of today, do you think you'll feel spent or refreshed?

Probably spent, not because I'm doing anything so exhausting but because I didn't sleep very well last night. Again.

2. Do you like back rubs?

Yes, doesn't everyone?

3. When did you last mislead someone?

I had to tell a white lie today. I hired a particular contractor to do a small job here, then later found out that his work is lousy, so I told him we were putting off the job indefinitely for financial reasons.

4. What color are your eyes?

Green.

5. Friday fill-in: Lastly, let me know ___.

... that you're reading this by leaving me a Comment!

Friday Random iPod Ten - Annotation Hat Trick

1. The Thrill Is Gone - Willie Nelson & B. B. King

Willie Nelson did a whole album of blues duets called Milk Cow Blues. He sings with Keb' Mo', Susan Tedeschi, Francine Reed, Dr. John, etc. Excellent.

2. You're in My System - Robert Palmer

This puts me right back into the '80s—but in the good way. I always loved Robert Palmer's voice.

3. Jumpin' Jack Flash - The Rolling Stones

Martin Scorsese is making a documentary about the Stones; you can watch the trailer here.

4. Fool Who Knows - Little Village

Little Village was a one-disc effort by John Hiatt, Nick Lowe, Ry Cooder, and Jim Keltner. I may very well be the only person who owns this CD, but I love it. Really, what could be bad?

5. Spring Wind (live) - Greg Brown

At the beginning of this song, while Greg's tuning, he says to his sound guy, "Could I get just a little bit more guitar in the monitor?" then explains to the audience, "We have to say that, you know, as folk singers, it's part of the contract. You have to say at some point during the night, 'Could I get just a little bit more guitar in the monitor?' It sounds fine, you know, but I'm just fulfilling my contractual deal."

6. Monday Morning Blues - Peter Case & Dave Alvin

Yet another great track off Avalon, the tribute album to Mississippi John Hurt.

7. God's Got It - Old Crow Medicine Show

The more I hear from these guys, the more I like 'em.

8. Little Trip To Heaven (On The Wings Of Your Love) - Tom Waits

This comes from Closing Time, a gorgeous, underappreciated collection of romantic songs from Tom Waits. None of his gritty, experimental stuff here, just beautiful ballads.

9. The Moon - Cat Power

Every time a song from The Greatest comes up, I stop and wonder, "What is that?" Really luscious, spell-binding music, that's what.

10. Freedom of the Road (live) - Martin Sexton

This is perhaps my favorite version of my absolute favorite Marty song. Knocks my socks off every time I hear it.

Part Deux

How timely that on the same day we rented and thoroughly enjoyed "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" came news that a sequel is in the offing. A sequel? Yep. Why, oh why, can't they ever leave well enough alone?

Here's an exhaustive list of movie sequels that were as good as the originals:

"The Godfather II"
"Rocky II"

That's all, right? Or can you think of others? And I'm not talking about series movies, like Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, etc.

Another Variation on the Theme

Serendipity is when Melanie just happens to mention in an email that Campari + Trader Joe's blood-orange soda is a nice change of pace from Campari + orange juice (or Campari + Trader Joe's grapefruit soda, as mentioned here)—and you just happen to have both in the house! And it's cocktail hour! Yum—very refreshing and a luscious hibiscus color.

Picky, Picky

Time to put an end to a word usage error I've seen all over the place lately.

peak - As a verb, this means to hit a high point; as a noun, it's the high point itself.

For some reason, weekly traffic to my blog peaks on Tuesdays.

Beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form.

peek - As a verb, this means to take a quick, secretive look; as a noun, it's the quick, secretive look itself.

I sometimes peek through my fingers at scary movies.

I like to take a peek at my kids when they're sleeping.

pique - As a verb, this means either to irritate or annoy or to provoke an emotion; as a noun, it's a feeling of  irritation or annoyance.

It piques me to no end when able people take handicapped-only parking spots.

Any mention of word usage or grammar piques my interest.

My kids occasionally suffer from brief but intense fits of pique, complete with sulking and sullen looks.

These words are all pronounced the same way ("peek"); devotees of the Lands' End catalog will also be familiar with pique/piqué (pronounced "pickay" or "peekay"), which is the fabric that polo shirts are often made of.

Wiki Wednesday

Time to learn something!

1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. Click on "Random article" in the left-hand sidebar box.
3. Post it!

I originally got a very religious article, but I hit "Random" again so my blog wouldn't be bombarded by Googling fundies (or fundy Googlers?) for the rest of its days. Here's what came up:

Marc Moreland was the former guitarist of Wall of Voodoo. This band released nine albums during their existence from 1977-1989 and were most notable for the hit single "Mexican Radio" in 1982.

In the late '70s and early '80s, Moreland also played guitar for one of the earliest American punk bands, The Skulls. He wrote some of the band's earliest songs, including "Victims" and "Babies."

After the breakup of Wall of Voodoo, Moreland worked in various bands, including Pretty and Twisted (with Johnette Napolitano) and Department of Crooks, both of which released albums in the 1990s. He was also involved in film and produced underground bands in the U.S. and Europe. Moreland released a solo album, Take It to the Spotlight in 2002, shortly before his death. Marc Moreland died of liver failure on Wednesday, March 13, 2002 in Paris, France, at the age of 44.

Never heard of him. You?

Hybrid Envy

I borrowed Janet's hybrid Camry today for a quick errand—Wheeee! It is so cool. I'd ridden in it before, but driving in it alone makes you that much more aware of how quiet it is. Amazing. And the keyless entry/ignition is way cool too. By the time my Odyssey finally bites the dust, I hope there will be a hybrid minivan on the market.

Anyone ... Anyone?

We were at Blockbuster the other day looking for a movie for the kids. Andy spotted "Ferris Bueller's Day Off," which we both remembered loving, but we were surprised to see that it carried a PG-13 rating. We thought back 20+ years: nope, no sex; nope, no violence; nope, nothing objectionable at all aside from a kid skipping school. I asked the Blockbuster employee, who assured me that ratings were just "different" in those days. So we got home and popped it in the ol' DVD player. Well, it's still as funny and clever as ever, but Oh! My! The language! Every single bad word is in this one. That's the sort of thing they'd never do today: make a movie that requires a higher rating solely because of gratuitous swear words. But what a great, fun movie. The kids loved it. (And why is it that this is the first PG-13 Steph is allowed to see, and we let Pete and Julie watch it at the same time? What's wrong with this picture??)

After my first week at Wesleyan (which has a famously splendid film department), I learned that one must sit through every last rolling credit at a movie. Somewhere, someone is cheering for the sound technician or the costume designer or the gaffer. Well, "Ferris" was the first movie that I can recall being rewarded for sitting through all that. Remember when all the credits are done and he comes out in his robe and say, "You're still here? It's over! Go home!"

An Afternoon at Lauren's

For future reference: If you have a room filled with, say, four generations of a family, and the two members of Gen. 3 start performing whatever they remember of the Israeli folk dances they learned at camp in the '70s, the three members of Gens. 1 and 2 will applaud and cheer and get teary-eyed, and the five members of Gen. 4 will just about die of embarrassment.

Dinner in August

Does steak on the grill and fresh local veggies sound about right?

Flank Steak with Chimichurri Rojo

½ cup red wine vinegar
¼ olive oil
3 Tbsp tomato paste
2 Tbsp minced garlic
1 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp ground black pepper
1 tsp red pepper flakes
salt to taste

1½ lbs. flank steak, sliced thinly across the grain

Preheat grill to medium.

Whisk chimichurri ingredients together in a large bowl. Add steak strips and toss to coat.

Grill steak strips, covered, for 2–3 minutes per side, or till done (depends on how thick your slices are; mine were about ¼–½" thick).

Summer Succotash* with Lemon-Shallot Vinaigrette**

vinaigrette:
¼ cup sliced minced shallots
¼ freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 tsp sugar
3 Tbsp olive oil

succotash:
¼ cup water
¼ lb. haricots verts (or regular green beans), halved crosswise
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 cup fresh (or frozen, thawed) corn kernels
1 cup yellow squash, diced
1 cup zucchini, diced
2 tsp minced fresh thyme
1 cup grape tomatoes, halved
¼ cup thinly sliced fresh basil

Whisk vinaigrette ingredients together, season with salt and pepper to taste,  and set aside.

Bring water to boil and add haricots verts (I used regular green beans, which were fairly thick, so I added a little extra water too). Once water evaporates, reduce heat and add oil, corn, squash, zucchini, and thyme. Sauté until veggies are tender, 5–8 minutes. Off heat, add tomatoes and basil. Toss veggies with vinaigrette and season with salt and pepper to taste.

*I don't know if this can really be called succotash if it doesn't contain lima beans, but so what.
**I don't know if this can really be called vinaigrette if it doesn't contain vinegar, but so what.

Go Nature!

We are most of the way through the first disc in the Planet Earth series and all I can say is WOW. I have watched a bazillion nature shows in my day, from Nova to National Geographics and everything in between, but I have never seen footage like this. There are species never before filmed, and other animals filmed doing things no one had ever seen before, and breathtaking, impossible-to-imagine-how-they- got-them scenic shots. I can't wait to watch the remaining 4 discs, but I'm going to space them out in my Netflix queue to make them last. By all measures, this is far and away the most amazing series of nature documentaries ever made.

Oh, and note that this is in fact the original BBC version narrated by the incomparable Sir David Attenborough, not the version put out by the Discovery Channel, which, for unfathomable reasons, chose to have Sigourney Weaver redo all the narration. Don't get me wrong, I love Sigourney Weaver, but she is no David Attenborough.

Now Grace Is a Lolcat

(Mr. Jones made his lolcat debut here.)

It'll Just Fly By (Right?!)

Steph got home from sleepaway camp yesterday, and now Pete and Julie are done with day camp. So that leaves us with just, um, 3 weeks to kill before school starts (September 6).

Ex Post Facto*

Yesterday after Steph was already home, we got 3 letters from her, and another one arrived today! She's getting such a kick out of reading them. The one that arrived today contained a request for us to bring her some tortilla chips for the car ride home. Oops.

*Good name for a blog, no?

Friday iPod Random Ten - Again with the Annotations!

1. Just a Bum - Prudence Johnson

This is from an album called "Prudence: Songs of Greg Brown," which is a great tribute to him. The first time we saw him perform live, probably about 20 years ago, she did backing vocals for him on one set. She has a knockout voice.

2. In the Journey (live) - Martin Sexton

This is a bootleg from somewhere or other (Martin's good about that stuff). It's the title track from his second studio album.

3. The Valley - Los Lobos

I don't think I ever reviewed this album, "The Town and the City," so here goes: I like it! There's plenty of rocking-out, but there's also more brooding, thoughtful tracks than previously. I'll never understand why these guys don't get more recognition and kudos. They've been around forever, composing and performing great stuff.

4. Frankie & Albert - Chris Smither

This is a track from "Avalon Blues: A Tribute to Mississippi John Hurt," which features the likes of Steve Earl, Bruce Cockburn, Lucinda Williams, Beck, John Hiatt, and many more. I could listen to Chris Smither all day; he's got that John Hurt guitar style nailed. A worthy tribute indeed.

5. Loola Loo - Keb' Mo'

I really enjoy Keb' Mo'—I have 4 of his albums—but there's something about his stuff that stops just short of wowing me. I love his voice, and there's certainly no flies on his slide guitar chops. So I don't know what it is that's missing for me. His songwriting, perhaps?

6. Oh Atlanta - Little Feat

One of my favorite songs from one of my favorite old bands. The title of this song must be what makes people dismiss Little Feat as "another one of those Southern rock bands," when in fact they were mostly from L.A. I never understood that "Southern" tag. They certainly don't have the sound of the Allman Brothers (or, God forbid, the Charlie Daniels Band or Lynyrd Skynyrd); in fact I hear hints of a jazz influence in their songs. Ah well, no matter: I still get huge pleasure out of listening to their old stuff.

7. Leaving Las Vegas (live) - Sheryl Crow

This is yet another track on the amazing 2-CD set I received years ago from WUMB, my local folk radio station, as a thank-you for my donation. "Live At The World Cafe: 10th Anniversary" has everyone from Nick Lowe and Lyle Lovett to Morphine and Shawn Colvin. As for this track, I like it. I generally don't care much for Sheryl Crow, but this is a very nice version of a good song, and I'm glad I have it.

8. The Streets of Baltimore - Nanci Griffith & John Prine

What could be bad?

9. Dock of the Bay (live) - Dave Matthews

I think I would enjoy hanging out with Dave Matthews if for no other reason than the fact that every cover I have of his is a song I like, so we must have similar taste in music. I've heard him do "Angel from Montgomery" (John Prine), "If I Had a Boat" (Lyle Lovett), "Redemption Song" (Bob Marley), "Me and Julio" (Paul Simon), "Wild Horses" (Rolling Stones), and more.

10. Boogie On Reggae Woman - Stevie Wonder

I defy anyone to listen to this song without grooving and grinning.

Friday's Feast

Appetizer: Describe your laundry routine. Do you have a certain day when you do it all, or do you just wash whatever you need for the next day?

Ha ha ha. Tell me another one. I do one or two or sometimes even three loads of laundry every day. If I miss a day, for some reason I don't have twice as much the next day—I have about six times as much (I've never understood this phenomenon). There's even more laundry in the summer, what with all the sweaty clothes, swimsuits, and grody towels that were jammed, wet and chlorine-y, into a backpack to sit in the sun for a few hours at camp.

Soup: In your opinion, what age will you be when you’ll consider yourself to truly be old?

Well, not surprisingly, that number keeps going up as I age. I'm sure there was a time when 45 sounded positively geriatric. I'll say 70 for now—but I'll reserve my right to revise in another decade or so.

Salad: What is one of your goals?  Is it short-term, long-term, or both?

Shit, I don't think I have any real goals. Is that bad? I mean, I have plans and resolutions and all that, but nothing like "I will run the Boston Marathon next year" or "I will learn to speak Portuguese fluently" or "I will get a Masters' in American Lit" or the like.

Main Course: Name something unbelievable you’ve seen or read lately.

I've just started reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, and every page brings a revelation. (For those of you who've been living in a hole, Kingsolver and her family left Tucson to move to a farm in Virginia where they intended to learn how to live off the land—theirs and their neighbors'—for at least a year.) I'm learning all kinds of shocking, disturbing truths about American agribusiness. Here's an example from one of the sidebars (contributed by Kingsolver's biology-professor husband, Steven Hopp): "If every U.S. citizen ate just one meal a week (any meal) composed of locally and organically raised meats and produce, we would reduce our country's oil consumption by over 1.1 million barrels of oil every week. That's not gallons, but barrels." As you can imagine, I will have lots more to say about this book after I've finished it, but I can now see why everyone is describing it as "life-changing." I'm only on p. 43 and I'm already committed to making some changes to my shopping habits—and that's coming from me, already pretty much a "good girl" when it comes to considering the environment, the plight of local farmers, and my family's health as I fill my shopping cart.

Dessert: On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being highest, how happy are you today?

I guess an 8. Ask me again later, though, as I just don't have the capacity to be any happier than that in the morning.

                 

Lost in Sock Land

Before camp I went to Costco and bought Steph two 8-packs of socks—one pack had 8 pairs of all different-colored solids and one pack had 8 pairs of all different-colored stripes—thus 16 different pairs of socks (you can see where this is going). She came home with 9 matched pairs of socks and 6 different lone socks. What are the odds* that a kid will lose 8 socks—and only one pair in that whole bunch? Naturally I convinced her that it will be fun to occasionally wear mismatched socks like her cool cousin Jen.

*If you are one of those people who like statistics, feel free to calculate the precise probability of this occurrence, but you can keep the answer to yourself, as I am asking in a purely rhetorical fashion.

Reunited

Breaking new: Steph's home! We drove up to camp this morning and retrieved our first-born from the clutches of all these other people who now know how wonderful she is and seemed to be plotting to keep her for themselves! She had the right balance of happy to see us (Mom weeping openly with joy, Dad holding it in as best he could) and sad to be leaving all her new friends. And then came the words I hoped to hear: "I am SO coming back next year!" I also got to see a handful of old friends who were there picking up their own kids. Steph said, "Mom, everyone knows you! All I kept hearing all month was, 'Oh, I know your Mom!'"

Now we're home, and Steph is having a bowl of her beloved tortilla chips and reacquainting herself with her room, the cats, and her Webkinz. As for me, the laundry situation is almost insurmountable. Everything—even the "clean" stuff—is damp and filthy. Please, everyone, I beg you: Close your eyes, cross all available appendages, and recite a heartfelt Maytag prayer to get me through the next day or two.

My Apologies to Red Sox Nation

I wasn't going to tell anyone, but Pete went to one last game today. How could I refuse when his grandparents invited him to a day game? (I've never even been to a day game.) And of course they were losing, losing, losing, then rallied at the eleventh hour to get everyone's hopes up, and then ended up going down 6-5 anyhow.

I had been drafting a "Pete's Curse Is Over!" post all afternoon in my brain. Sigh.

Bad, Bad Movie

I would never have rented a movie called "Fight Club" if it didn't star Ed Norton and Brad Pitt. Both of them have terrific screen presence and seem to choose decent film projects, for the most part. I can take a fair amount of blood and guts, too, so it seemed OK. It wasn't OK.

Two big problems: First of all, the whole thing is about men who can't feel alive unless they're getting the shit beat out of them—and beating the shit out of someone else, too, while they're at it. It was beyond disturbing and put me in one of those frames of mind where I think that however deep down, men have a powerful innate capacity—and, worse, a need—for violence. I don't usually think this way, and I don't usually make generalizations like "Men do this" or "Men don't do that," but that's what this film made me do.

Second problem: Nothing pisses me off more than watching most of an overly long, extremely violent and upsetting movie and then having them pull some weird surreal crap right near the end. I won't give anything away (as if anyone is going to want to see this movie based on my review), but everything is going along very realistically until—pow!—suddenly it's an entirely different movie altogether. Sheesh.

Honey Bag

I'm feeling pretty good about my new reusable bag from Whole Foods. It weighs almost nothing empty, holds a ton, and has long straps that can go over my shoulder. It cost a whole buck, so after I use it 20 times, I'll have paid for it (Whole Foods gives you a nickel every time you bring your own bag). Plus it's cute.

I'll still need to request paper bags now and again for my newspaper recycling needs, and I do use plastic for raw meat, but otherwise I'm going all reusable. As long as I remember to bring it with me each time....

Argh!

Do not be fooled by the Hello Kitty attire—it's Dread Pirate Julie! (It's Pirate Day at camp today.)

And Cookbooks Don't Count Either

A bold statement:

I am not going to buy another book ever again ever in my life.

Well, there are a few exceptions; read the whole hilarious thing here. (Via Doppelganger)

Wiki Wednesday

Time to learn something!

1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. Click on "Random article" in the left-hand sidebar box.
3. Post it!

Here's what I got:

Coppa is a traditional Italian dry cured pork shoulder or neck, and could be considered the pork counterpart of the air dried, cured beef bresaola.

In its production, it is firstly lightly seasoned, often with red wine (sometimes white wine), garlic, and herbs, salted, then stuffed (as a whole joint) into a natural casing (usually beef or pork middles) and hung for up to six months to cure.

There is also another type of coppa which is cooked, called coppa cotta, but this is not as common.

It is also popular in Switzerland on the borders with Italy and in Corsica.

Mmm, cured pork products. I don't think I've ever had coppa, though.

Same Old, Same Old

Every now and then, an old song comes up on my iTunes and I realize that some things never change. Here's John Prine back in 1971, singing "Your Flag Decal Won't Get You Into Heaven Anymore," apropos of those flag decals people plaster all over their cars:

But your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven anymore.
They're already overcrowded
From your dirty little war.
Now Jesus don't like killin'
No matter what the reason's for,
And your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven anymore.

Farewell, Dark Prince

I didn't realize that an Evil Overlord could just resign. Who knew it was that simple? I shudder to imagine the job description for that now-open position.

41.5 Hours (But Who's Counting?)

It seems we never get one letter from Steph—we either get several or none at all. Makes me wonder whether they go to the post office every day.... Anyhow, today we got 3 letters, including a picture Steph drew of herself and labeled "100% Happy Camper." That sure does my heart good! But of course that was in the same envelope with this wonderful news: "Almost everyone is sick in my bunk. TONS of people are sick in girls area. TONS of people are sick in Boys area. Also, I am starting to get sick, I think. Pink Eye is going around our bunk and girls area. I HOPE I DON'T GET IT!" Well, that was written last Thursday, so she could have already gotten sick and better by now. I just hope she isn't bleeding (or not much, anyhow); usually that's the first sign that she's about to get sick. I haven't asked in my letters, and she hasn't mentioned it.

She also filled out and returned the nerdy checklist her nerdy mom sent her, complete with questions like these:

• Some of my most favorite camp foods are: ___.
  Answer: BBQ [by which I think she just means hot dogs], pasta, tacos, drumsticks, curly fries [which is incomprehensible to me, because she has always refused and even claimed to gag on every potato product, including all forms of fries and chips]
• Some of my least favorite camp foods are: ___.
  Answer: COLD CUTS
• Here is what I think of drama: ___.
  Answer: The drama consler [sic] is REALLY nice.
• Here is what I think of A&C: ___.
  I [heart] it! They always have fun stuff to do.
• Here is what I think of athletics: ___.
  Answer: HORRIBLE (x3)

And so on. There was a full page of questions, so I finally got some of those details I've been longing for. Soon enough, I'll be able to grill her in person!

Speech Therapy Again (Still)

I don't think I mentioned that Pete is having weekly speech therapy sessions with Matt again this summer. I just reread my post about it from last summer, and I can definitely say that Pete's stuttering is much less severe than it was just one year ago. He does still stutter, but not quite as much, and he doesn't do any of the secondary behaviors anymore, aside from a slight chin thrust when he gets really stuck. Matt says that Pete is exceptionally cooperative and pleasant to work with; I guess—not surprisingly, really—he deals with plenty of kids who are resistant and obstinate. So we'll probably have time for one or two more sessions, and then it'll be back to the school speech therapist.

Deal!

Pete's been playing draw poker for a while, but yesterday I suggested to Andy that it was time he learned stud poker. I prefer 7-card stud, but we started with 5-card stud so it would be at least a little similar to 5-card draw. After a few hands of that, he was ready for 7-card stud. I thought that he might be confused by having to mentally ignore 2 of the cards, but he caught on very quickly. I'm hoping he has inherited Andy's card sense. I love cards and can play most games well enough, but I just don't have card sense. I particularly suck at all those trump games, like whist, oh hell, hearts, and—worst of all—bridge. I not only can't keep track of all the cards that have gone by, I can't seem to make my brain grasp all the intricacies of trick-taking strategy.

Every Day When You're Walking Down the Street...

My favorite kids' show is definitely "Arthur." We watch it nearly every morning here—if the kids are dressed and eating breakfast, they're allowed to turn it on. I can't tell you how many times I've alluded to an "Arthur" episode (I've seen them all countless times) when speaking with the kids. It seems that no matter what issue comes up in this family, we can go back to a lesson we learned from "Arthur."

I really love the episodes with famous people, who get Arthur-ized. We've seen Click & Clack, Mr. Rogers (RIP), Ming Tsai, Michelle Kwan, a whole buncha Red Sox, Alex Trebek, Yo-Yo Ma, and many more. I just learned that someone else will be in a new episode this fall. Can you guess who that is in the picture? Hover your mouse here and you'll see.

Back to the Basement!

Since Steph left for camp, we've been letting the cats have the run of the house at night (see here for explanation). The only problem is that at some point in the night, Grace always decides it's time to run a bed-check, which consists of jumping on each person's pillow and letting out a shrill "MROWR!" directly into the person's ear. Julie claims to enjoy being "visited" like this, but after a few nights of it, Pete had had enough and started to close his door.

Steph comes home on Thursday, so that'll be the end of it anyhow, because she says they always paw at her door even if it's shut. They never paw at Pete's though, so I wonder if we can let them stay up....

At Last, Pete's Been Transformed

Pete's been begging to see the "Transformers" movie, but I was against the idea, since it's PG-13. I kept asking around but couldn't find a single person (adult or child) who'd seen it so that I could ask what it was like. Andy thought it would be OK, though, so he took Pete on Saturday. As it turned out, he was fine—he's OK with comic-book-style violence because he knows it's make-believe. However, he did find one of the trailers upsetting. It was for an R-rated movie called "We Own the Night," starring Mark Wahlberg. It's all about cops and drug dealers, and Andy felt that the trailer was inappropriate for a PG-13 audience. I called the theatre manager and she told me that the trailer is rated PG-13 even though the movie is R, but she agreed that it didn't sound like the best fit for a family movie. She asked me to send her an email that she could forward to corporate.

Mmm, Rabbit

Here's the mama bunny whose babies have been visiting us recently:

Now I guess I'm glad I never planted a vegetable and herb garden, because it would be all munched by now.

Change of Face

There's an article in today's Times Magazine about the change in typeface for road signs around the country, a phenomenon I've noticed—and one I applaud. You can watch an interesting slideshow about it here. (I think the Times has finally gotten rid of their ridiculous "Times Select" thing, so you should be able to view it even if you're not a subscriber.) However, I could find no mention anywhere about the change in typeface in the Times Book Review, which I noticed immediately this morning, and with displeasure.

This is the old typeface, from last week:

and here's the new one, from this week:

I apologize for the lousy photos, but maybe you can get the idea. I wonder why they changed it. The old one was much easier on the eyes.

I Need a Perseid Shower

Don't forget to tune in to your local sky tomorrow night!

Summer's annual meteor shower promises to put on a dazzling show when it peaks this weekend — provided you're far from city lights. With no moon in sight to interfere with the Perseid meteor shower, skygazers can expect to spot streaking fireballs late Sunday into dawn Monday regardless of time zone. Astronomers estimate as many as 60 meteors per hour could flit across the sky at the shower's peak.

This year's sky show comes with an added bonus: Mars will be visible as a bright red dot in the northeastern sky....

Since Perseid meteors can be seen from any direction in the sky, viewers should pick out a dark patch of sky free of light pollution and wait for the meteors to appear.

Dim meteors appear as a momentary flash of light while the brighter ones leave a glowing streak. The number of Perseids zipping across the sky should increase steadily through the night, peaking just before sunrise. Although the peak occurs this weekend, the Perseids are visible for several nights after that.

I could have used some entertainment like that the other night.... I've seen the Perseids only once, when I was a camp counselor many years ago.

Another Gem From Russo

The only silver lining on that cloud of working until 3:00 a.m. the other night is that while I was waiting for the work to come in, I got to finish reading Straight Man by Richard Russo. Frequent Verbatim visitor and funny commenter MommyRalf had sent it to me, hoping that I would enjoy it and find it as hilarious as she did. Well, I sure did.

You may remember my praise of Russo's Pulitzer winner, Empire Falls. At the risk of repeating myself: Man, can he ever write. His settings put you right on the scene, his character development leaves you wondering about these "people" long after the book has ended, and the plot is tight and well wrought. Every sentence is carefully crafted but comes off as effortlessly elegant. There really were sentences and even entire passages that made me utter an audible "Wow." When I wasn't busy saying "Wow," I was either blinking back tears or laughing out loud. Really—and you know I don't laugh very often when reading a novel. The book is really, really funny, whether or not you've spent much time in the groves of academe.

It all takes place during a week in April at a dumpy little college in western Pennsylvania. Our "straight man" is William Henry Deveraux, Jr., otherwise known as Hank. Hank is 50 years old and has a dog named Occam, which tells you a lot about his philosophy of life. Hank is the reluctant chair of the English Department, which is like one big, not-terribly-happy dysfunctional family. All the tenured profs realize that they're trapped there; they want out but don't know how to make it happen. Over the course of the week, Hank is rumored to have provided the chancellor with a list of English profs to be fired per the threatened budget cuts (He would never do that, or would he?) and accused of killing some geese who live on a campus pond (Well, he did threaten to, didn't he?). He also decides that his wife must be having an affair with the dean; learns that his younger daughter's marriage is on the rocks; spends a night in jail; discovers that his father, the venerable William Henry Devereaux, Sr., is coming back to town; and can't help noticing that expelling even the merest dribble of pee is excruciating. And the merest dribble is about all he can manage anyhow.

The entire story is told in Hank's voice, and what a great one he has. Everyone who knows him complains that he never takes anything seriously, but we know better. His thoughts and observations are often so poignant that I got teary-eyed more than once. He just keeps most of it to himself (and us, lucky us). So instead of wanting to give this smart-ass a slap in the face, we end up wishing we could give him a big, warm hug. Russo has masterfully and compassionately combined the humor and pathos of everyday life in Hank, so we feel the nagging despair and worry at the same time that we learn how to laugh off most of it. It takes Hank just a week to discover what really matters in life, and we can all learn a lesson from him.

For Ailurophiles Only

I don't normally post YouTube vidoes, but this one is unbe-frickin-lievable. If you like cats, that is. I was laughing until tears streamed down my face. Gather the whole feline-friendly family 'round the fire computer!

[Insert Exclamation of Frustration Here]

I had a terrible work experience yesterday. Without going into detail, this is that new client I mentioned a while back, and it's a completely different type of work than I normally do. But more than that, the nature of the work requires each project to be assigned to two freelancers, each of whom does a different task—and it's all very rush-rush. The first person does her end of it and then sends it on to me, so I can't begin my work until she completes hers. ("She" can be any of a number of other freelancers who do this other task that I don't do. I don't mean to sound all mysterious, but I feel like venting and don't want to get busted. It's really not that fascinating, trust me.)

I just deleted two whole paragraphs of boring details. Really, all you need to know is that the freelancer I was working with totally dropped the ball on her end, so I not only blocked out my whole day yesterday for absolutely nothing (including turning down work from another client who happened to call and not going to the gym), but I ended up working until 3:00 a.m. last night to get it done as I'd promised. When I emailed it to the client at that hour, I stated quite forcefully that I couldn't work like this and would have to decline future projects from them. Oh, and I forgot to mention that this is the second time this had happened to me, although I wasn't up quite as late the last time.

So of course the client called me in the morning and felt my pain ("Feel this!" was about all I could think of saying, but I didn't) and begged me to reconsider because I do Such. Great. Work. On three hours' sleep, I was practically weepy, so of course I totally caved and agreed to try them one more time but only with the agreement that if the first person doesn't hold up her end, I will not be held responsible for mine. I'm such a wuss.

No! No! No! See, I can type it easily. I just can't say it. Sigh.

Well, things are already looking up. Andy just walked in from three days in New York and that can mean only one thing: It's cocktail hour! That I'll always say Yes to.

Into the Final Stretch

We finally got a really newsy letter from Steph today; she wrote on the fronts and backs of 4 sheets of paper and then folded them up tiny, so there was actually postage due (but some kind postal worker must have seen the camp return address and decided to let it go). It was so bulky I was sure I was going to find a keychain made out of gimp or something when I opened it. Here are some of the highlights, all responses to my questions:

The lake is decent - not great, but not horrible.

I am making a splatter painting in A&C.

I don't like canoeing that much, I would rather go with Daddy. Luckily, I have friends with me.

My bed is comfy. I have been having great sleeps! I don't get up in the night. I go to bed about 11:00 and wake up at about 8:00 or 7:30.

I HATE cold cuts! I tried them!

It all sounds just about right to me.

So we're picking her up next Thursday! In my day, camp was two 4-week sessions, but now it's two 3½-week sessions. This is because nowadays most of the counselors have to get to their colleges by the middle of August, but camp can't start any sooner in June or the campers won't have gotten out of school yet.