A perfect set. 

I mentioned to Dad that as busy as I am, I am nervous that my car is taking on the appearance of one whose owner lives therein. Dad said "yeah. You need to take a day off and clean it."

I posted a Puppy Sunday post from my phone that apparently didn't come through.

Working 12 hour days, and I had the "oh, shit!" phone all last week, so I've been busier than a one-armed paper-hanger. I decided not to be at work 12 hours today, so I may be a slacker and just do my usual 8. Or 9.

Last night I goofed off and practiced my ukulele very late. I now am sporting my first blister. I started off playing my cheapie uke with the tough strings, not thinking about what was happening to my poor wee thumb. Then I switched to my solid-body mahogany with better strings. It's not an expensive uke by a long shot, but it's considerably better, and it's an Eddy Finn with a sharkfin shaped sound hold that is infused with pina colada smell. It sounds pretty good. I stayed up til midnight playing for the fun of it.
Yay!

I'm working on several things and I'm taking uke lessons from my guitar teacher. Uke's portability and ease make it a better fit for me now, and I'm loving the outlet. And it's good that my repertoire has advanced beyond 2 songs. I'm sure some at work will be surprised when heavy season is over and I pull out my work uke and play something other than Johnny Cash or the Ramones. :)

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Odd thing. I purchased the latest Regina Spektor album about a yearish ago and played it on my iPhone3. Well, I played it again on my iPhone5, and there are two songs that would never play on the 3 that are on the file, apparently. Isn't that weird? And stingy. I think if someone has an earlier version of a phone and they buy the album, they should get the whole dad-gum thing, don't you?

Anyway, here's one of the tunes from the record that I never heard until recently. It was kind of shocking, actually, to suddenly have a new tune in an unexpected place.

The way we go about our lives
trying out each empty room
like houses we might own
eavesdropping for clues in corridors until
standing at a gate or attic window
seeing beauty in a flag of sky
we're gone. leaving the doors open
all the lights burning

Katharine Thomas

Just as a reminder, Praline is a Jack Russell Terrier, Chuy is a Chihuahua/Dachshund mix, and Mochi is a tweenie dog- midway between a mini Dachshund and the standard size model.

On Facebook, my friend Holly tagged me in a link to this article about the most aggressive dog breeds.

The article basically ascribes EBR status to Rottweilers, Pit Bulls and Dobermans-- they look scary but they are not the most aggressive breeds. Don't let the weenie dog's otter-lope fool you-- they weigh in as the most aggressive breed. I have to begrudgingly agree, at least in my limited experience. Mochi is an expert starter of Le Shit. While nature definitely plays its role, in my experience, nurture plays a massive role in how the nature of the dog manifests. Mochi spent the first 5 months of her life chained in yards, and often without food and water. She is a guttersnipe and eternally starving and thirsty, because that was her early experience. She goads Praline and Chuy into sparring with her, and I really think there is no hitch in her gitalong when it comes to fighting: she wouldn't think twice about taking on a grizzly bear. There is no more cuddly dog on the planet, though. And again, the otter-lope gets me every time. Is there a sight more majestic than a loping wiener dog? Probably, but it makes me smile and fills me with delight, so I'll take power-cute over majestic any day.

So far, Mochi's kill board includes the one mockingbird I mentioned here recently.

I continued reading the article, and to my surprise, the second most aggressive breed is the Chihuahua. I looked over at Chuy, sprawled on his back, and ventilating his former ball area, and thought "top two aggressive breeds? PAH!" Chuy is such a cool and mellow little dog. He was from a litter my wonderful vet in Richardson (north of Dallas) rescued. Chuy has always been gently treated and handled, and he just loves Love. When you hold him, the is so sweet and trusting, and you can tell he's never been dropped. He's a love sponge, a love lump, and a power cuddler. He is a little more wait-and-see than Mochi, but if his sisters were fighting something non-pack, there's no doubt that he'd be in the mix. He is more deliberate and takes an engineering sort of approach to things, calculating angles and weighing the odds and all that before taking action. Mostly, though, he's a little Edwardian dandy. He has his little suit on with the proper vest, derby hat and the watch chain swagging across his barrel chest, umbrella in one paw and a folded copy of the London Times tucked up under his arm. Tail curled at a jaunty angle. Chuy's hobbies are being loved and chewing off Mochi's whiskers. Himself teases me that Chuy is a con-man, and I think that is mean because Chuy is clearly sweet, innocent and pure.

Chuy's kill board includes baby bunnies and lots and lots of blue jays. Chuy is Blue Jay death on paws. I've noticed fewer of them seem to hang out here lately, for some reason. I don't think the bunnies have nested in my yard this year, FWIW.

Can you guess the third-most aggressive breed? Yes: Jack Russells. Wow. Praline is a sweet girl, but she's very focused and prone to obsessing if there are furry varmints she needs to subdue. Praline can be cuddlesome, but she is also the one who least likes being picked up and cuddled. Taut as a high-wire, she's always on the case. Like Mochi, she's fearless and always ready to stomp a mudhole and walk it try. (poor frogs). She is the watch dog, and she sleeps on top of the covers to keep watch over our little pack. Nothing slips past her. At the end of the day, though, she's a fastidious and loving little dog, and very happy with her home and her pack.

How did I end up with the three most aggressive breeds, though? What are the odds? Jack Russells were a deliberate choice with my first dog Valentine. I love their intrepid spirit and their jolly can-do attitude. If dogs did silly human things, Jack Russells would be the ones to find the source of the Nile and to climb Everest. Dachshunds, of course, were bred for badger-hunting, and badgers aren't exactly pushovers. Chiweenies? Clearly bred for melting mommy's heart. Chuy and Mochi were both rescues, and dachshund and Chihuahua were the two breeds I said I would never own. Go figure. I'm so glad it worked out this way, though. Turns out I'm very happy with my little pack of aggressive beasties, too.

I have programmed a Telemann-based radio station for myself on Pandora, and I've been enjoying hearing so much harpsichord in its broadcast. While a harpsichord looks very like a piano, its strings actually create sound by being plucked, rather than hit with a hammer as with a piano.

The modern piano did not arrive fully-formed like Venus rising from the billowing surf, but pretty much is a product of evolution in sound engineering. Predating the piano was the harpsichord, which featured prominently in Renaissance and Baroque era music, and is a defining element of music of that period. What came to be the harpsichord was primarily engineered by Flemish instrument makers in the 16th century. Around the beginning of the 18th century, the new keyboard on the block was the fortepiano, and Mozart and Beethoven composed piano music for this exciting new iteration of keyboard.

This is a really cool demonstration of how a harpsichord works.



As you can hear, this is a very distinctive sound. I particularly love the flute music of Telemann, and he has a great body of work in which the harpsichord figures heavily,and with tremendous charm and feeling. Mozart and many other operatic composers used the harpsichord to underscore recitative (the spoken bits between arias) in their operas. Some exceptions would be the singspiel mode which is not completely sung-through. My favorite singspiel is Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute) in which the performers speak lines with no music between songs. My guess would be that the use of harpsichord for underscoring the recitative passages is that the orations of the singers will not be overpowered by the sounding of the instrument.

The harpsichord apparently sounded old-timey and fell out of vogue for the whole of the nineteenth century, but has enjoyed a renaissance of its own starting in the 20th century and continuing in perpetuity, one hopes.

Here is one you are sure to recognize: Bach's Minuet in G major, beautifully played by SF Christo:




I hope you'll enjoy this music, and possibly seek out more music in which it is prominently featured.

In my hay-making mode, the exploration of perfumery continues and is an anodyne to the wire-taut, keyed-up intensity of overtime-flavored tunnel-vision.

I've been fortunate to win a couple of drawings of giveaways by fellow perfumistas, and those giveaways included dozens of decants of gorgeous niche fragrances. Also, I've spent a wee bit on samples of things I wanted to try before handing over the dosh for a full bottle. Indeed, I'm a bit on the picky side and I'd say only one out of 20 or so really blows my skirt up, but when a fragrance makes me happy in my pants, it makes me happy in a big way. I'm picking my way through these scrummy scents and finding what really works for me, and I'll pass the also-rans along for other folks to try in turn.

My latest happy-pants inducement is the wondrously lovely Nuit Etoilee from the perfume house of Annick Goutal.

I only have a small sample, and will soon run out, alas. I'm hopeful I can spend some of the yields of my overtime this summer on a full bottle of this exquisite juice.

Nuit Etoilee opens with perhaps the prettiest citrus I've experienced. It's not that acidic, lemonadey eye-popping lemon or lime zest, nor is it a cloyingly tangy orange. It's a comforting little burst of citron with a faint suggestion of mint. These are the top notes which scarper off quite quickly. Top notes are the smallest molecules in a fragrance mix, and they fly away from the pack first, and are quick to evaporate. They are sort of an overture which sets a framework in which the big picture will unfold.

The heart of Nuit Etoilee is a glory of pine and fir. These notes begin to reveal themselves within minutes of spraying and present a burnished glow after the citrus/mint medley has wafted away. They quickly seem subdued, but I can smell the conifer on my arm in the evening, having applied it in morning time. This is a low-projection scent on me, and more subtle than the pong-monsters I generally crave in scent. Perfume parlance borrows the term sillage from the nautical lexicon, and the sillage is sort of the wake you trail (or do not). Some people favor high-projection scents, and most of my favorites are thus, but this one wormed its lovely, subdued way into my heart. This is probably not detectable on me more than arm's length throughout the day.

The base notes-- which are slowest to emerge but more sustained-- are angelica, immortelle and Tonka bean. Angelica is a flower, but the oil is extracted from the roots, and this is considered a green scent. Essence of immortelle is extracted from its sunny little flowers (latin name Helichrysum angustifolium, thus named for the sun), and has long been used for medicinal/therapeutic purposes. Tonka is a spicy little bean thing from South America that I've noticed listed as an accord in a huge number of fragrances. I have only seen them in photos, but I would imagine them to be similar to the resinsous, sticky properties of vanilla beans. Tonka bean seems to have a vanillic quality to me. (Vanilla is quite often used in perfumes, but can be overpowering and is not a particular favorite of mine, though it is beasting in my beloved Hypnotic Poison from Dior).

The overall effect of Nuit Etoilee is that of taking a tiny sip of limoncello whilst enveloped in a nice wool wrap, sitting by a campfire in a grove of conifers on the first cool night of the year.

I tend to favor Oriental fragrances that are woody, spicy or floral, but this is a Woody Aromatic. I may have Himself wear this one day, and I think it'll probably be more suited primarily to men, but I think the right woman can pull it off. *aherm* One more note on the formulations of this scent: this is truly a unisex scent, but there are actually two formulations available. The one I have is the masculine and is an Eau de Toilette. There is a formulation in Eau de Parfum form which I have not smelled, but also includes accords of amber (for which I am quite, quite queer) and iris, which I generally don't like in perfumes. I'll be buying the "masculine" version of this, in the squared bottle. In my opinion, convention is utterly to be flouted when it comes to scent. Aramis-- the classic 1966 man cologne-- smells wonderful on me. I think it would be a shame if I'd never tried it because a silly label like pour homme make me think a lady couldn't wear it. If something smells right on you and you enjoy it, you should wear it. Full stop.

This is available in sample form from ThePerfumedCourt and also from SurrenderToChance, but I would recommend confirming which formulation you are receiving when you order any fragrance. It would be disappointing to fall in love with a particular scent, only to find out you've committed to a full bottle of its not-evil-enough twin. As always, I recommend you purchase the larger spray decant to get a true sense of the interplay of fragrance notes. Some people don't think it makes a difference if you spray or daub on a scent, but in my mind at least, there is a difference.

I to paraphrase Master Pratchett, I haven't run to early rising so much as leapt in bounds toward it, my eyes eagerly springing awake at 5:00 AM. This is sick, I know. I get myself together and hie me to the office to plug away at paperwork for a couple of hours before my shift on the phones begins. This weekend, I have the emergency line, which usually starts ringing at 6AM on a Saturday. I dozed a bit and got out of bed a little before 6:00 am and linked the laptop with the office system. Here it is, 7:42, and not a single person has called. And I'm in my cups. Well, coffee cups, anyway-- I've had 3. I'm (un)tanned, rested and ready, and I've been awaiting that welcome, most un-dulcet of rings, and nothing. If I wanted to sleep late this morning, though, it would have been ringing non-stop. Object lesson, here!

So, it's high season for my work so I'm working quite a bit of overtime and making hay while the sun is shining. I've worked 32 hours in the last 3 days. I'm not whining, actually. I spent so much of the past 6 months feeling like hammered crap that it's glorious to feel like doing anything. Also, 3 weeks ago was the first week this year in which I've worked a full 40 hours. Making up for lost time, I suppose.

Another 11-ish hour day at work tomorrow and then I have the emergency phone all weekend. Every time the phone rings, an angel gets its ka-CHING!

Yeah. That's so stupid. I'm rather tired. Maybe I'll feel embarrassed tomorrow and un-post this.
Gnight.

This is the cold part of the day. Hard to sleep with three furnacles glommed onto me. Sigh. 

We all are indebted to those who gave their lives for our country.  May they be blessed.

If you are a person who loves perfumes, particularly French perfumes, you'd better stock up on the current formulations of your favorites before they are gone forever.

A goodly number of perfume accords-- both synthetic and natural-- are going bye-bye, thanks to hyper-regulation by the European Union.  See this informative post from January over at Perfume Shrine.  This is not just perfume for women, by the way.

The idea seems to be that certain accords-- even stuff commonly found in common foods (cinnamon?  mace?) and other things are going to be outlawed for use in perfumes.  The whole idea of perfume is that it's a unique blend of accords that create a very specific scent profile.  Start dinking around with the accords and you will quickly have an entirely different fragrance on your hands.  And all this in the name of protecting people from chemicals which may cause an allergic reaction in a shockingly small sample of the population.

THIS.  This is how safe our lives have become-- our daily lives are so generally devoid of danger that governing bodies have to sit around and invent new ways to protect us from our own mortality.

If you pick up many classic perfumes bottled past 2013, expect them to smell very different, indeed. Many already have been cowed into shadows of their original formulae, but this could well render a great many of them utterly unrecognizable. 

Myopic bastards.
What a waste.  What a bore.  What a shame.

If you DO stock up on perfume, plan to keep them in a cool, dark place in your home where they will not be exposed to UV.   The greater the concentration of oil in the formula, apparently the greater the stability will be.  Therefore, perfume is more apt to last if properly stored.  Eau de Cologne is much watered-down, and Eau de Parfum is a greater concentration than EdC, but has less of the essential oils than the perfume.   The purest form of a scent is an attar, which is essential oil only, and if you can find these, they are generally profoundly more expensive than the other concentrations.

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Gosh, I'm tired.  Worked quite a bit this week and also had the emergency phone for the last week.
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Pet peeve of the week: asking a person a direct question and then having them launch into a 500 word ramble and then having to ask them the same question again, to which they respond with yet another ramble.  Ah, the embuggerances of customer service.

I was at work for nearly two hours before I realized my skirt was inside out.