If you haven't already read the most recent post of The LawDog Files, I recommend you mosey on over and read this brilliant post in which a P.O.S. car gets convertible-ized. It's less kind, less gentle than you might have imagined. I laughed and laughed. Enjoy!

OK, I'm on to the third of the witchy segment of Discworld. I loved the first but was over-the-moon with the second, Wyrd Sisters, and I fancied myself the Granny Weatherwax sort until I read this passage.

Granny wasn't at home in public houses. She sat stiffly to attention behind her port-and-lemon, as if it were a shield against the lures of the world.

Nanny Ogg, on the other hand, was enthusiastically downing her third drink, and, Granny thought sourly, was well along that path which would probably end up with her usual dancing on the table, showing her petticoats and singing "The Hedgehog Can Never Be Buggered at All."

So, there's a wee bit of Nanny Ogg in me, too, since I sing that song all the time.
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Speaking of things witchy-poo-esque - I'm in lurve again-- aren't these shoes the very most darling things evah? I knew you'd agree. *sigh* Santa-me may have to break down and buy them for myself. I'll grant you they are a trifle unconventional, but then again, so am I. Plus I've been perfecting my cackle.

I think I should atone for all that ugliness by posting something excessively lovely.



*SQUEAL!*
Oh, I finally found a video I can love of my favorite Tchaikovsky setting of Goethe's achingly beautiful "Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt" and here sung by Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky in his native tongue.

I always loved singing this song because it's so lovely, and I most enjoy singing in German, for some reason, much better than French or certainly English. I also love lieder (German art songs)-- usually German Romantic poets' text set to music. This was my favorite.

Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt [None but the lonely heart]
Weiß, was ich leide! [Knows how I suffer]
Allein und abgetrennt
Von aller Freude,
Seh' ich ans Firmament
Nach jener Seite.

Ach! der mich liebt und kennt,
Ist in der Weite.
Es schwindelt mir, es brennt
Mein Eingeweide.
Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt
Weiß, was ich leide!

It's really dramatic stuff. Gotta love it.

Gag Keanu with a --

WAIT!

There is no spoon!

Did you know...

there's a submarine parked on the north bank of the river in Little Rock, Arkansas?

Yuppers, it's the USS Razorback, and it was commissioned during WWII, served in the Pacific theatre and all over the place until 1970, when it was decommissioned and given to Turkey, who re-named it.

I'm betting my personal favorite submarine guy, the ever-brilliant Myron, can fill us in on details.

From MYRON:

Yeah, I knew about the RAZORBACK. Getting her back from Turkey and turning her
into another museum submarine was a big thing in the subvets community. She was
towed up river from Nawleens with a contingency of old subvets on board.If you
go to the website and scroll down there is a link to a patrol report from July,
1957. It will give you an idea of what we cold war diesel boat sailors did for a
living. Click here to see a Google Earth image of where
she was. And here also for a closer look at the funny
names.These reports were only recently declassified. Guess I need to order the
ones for my boat. By the way, we got underway for that area of the world in
July, 1957 12 days after I reported aboard from SubSchool. Welcome aboard,
sailor.

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Driving around Little Rock I had a brainwave - Bill Clinton was just confused: he didn't know there was an "L" in "public servant."

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One more thing was I tried to find Franke's Cafeteria, which everyone raves about, but I went to the address listed in the yahoo phone directory (not the one on Rodney Parham Road) and there was an empty building. Meh. Ended up eating something common and not-at-all-cafeterialike.

Made up for it by eating at Bryce's in Texarkana on Sunday night. Golly, that place is awesome. They have toe-curling deviled eggs that taste just like my great-aunt Geneva's deviled eggs. high praise.

Over on YouTube, I found a really cool set of videos called Nutcracker of the Damned, and it's the 2006 Pacific Northwest Ballet's version of The Nutcracker set to the music of the Damned. Oddly enough, it really fits, Grimly Fiendish, In dulce decorum, et al.

First time I was in Europe in 1987, I was on my way to the airport and snapped a photo of a Damned poster, and when I got the photo developed, I saw they played Brussels the night I left. Damn. Better late than never, I saw the Damned in Dallas several years ago. Wish they'd come back - great show.
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I thought once I got past last week the dust would settle a bit, but things continue apace, as hectic as ever, it seems. I'll make my blog rounds soon, I promise, and get caught up.
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I was recently tagged by the barbara of Bad Tempered Zombie fame to share 7 random and/or weird facts about myself. Um, I can't imagine there's much weirdness left that I haven't shamelessly flaunted here, but let's see what we can dig up...

1. I'm neurotic about flossing and brushing - never had a cavity, hate having bad breath, and bizarrely

2. I love garlic and onions, leeks, shallots, and pretty much anything stinky, including super-stinky cheese *bliss*

3. I hate chewing gum. I sort of have a compulsion to chew the entire pack at once if I ever indulge, because it'll be calling to me, and I just have to get it out of the way. Chewing gum makes me nervous (whew, this entry is about 7 all by its lonesome, oui?). I like Big Red and cinnamon gums, hot gum that's sweet

4. My orthodontist made me chew sugarless gum after I got my braces adjusted, so the pain wouldn't be so bad the next day

5. If I still had my baby teeth, I'd set them in silver and make a necklace or a bracelet for myself. I think my mom is glad the tooth fairy didn't save my baby teeth, and I suspect my sister has hidden niece and nephew's baby pearlies... must investigate...

[let's change tack, shall we?]

6. I have a massive collection of wind-up toys, and now I am building my fleet of animated car/lowrider/hoop-d series. Goofy, brightly colored plastic with wind-up or push-buttons for music are like crack for me. Despite all this, I have none of those clattering teeth in my collection. (AHA! ya see that? I got a toofy reference in there!) I do have walking sushi and a keychain that plays the Beverly Hillbillies theme. I'd like to have the Jeffersons, but I haven't seen one of those.

7. This blog is the closest thing to a habit of any non-artistic pursuit in my life. In close second (and I'm loath to admit this, almost) is that I have the dorkiest hobby in the world: I'm a where's george goober. Yeah, I know. That ranks above pocket protectors, but I forgive myself.
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On very rare occasions, I'll hear someone say something that makes me feel like a computer wiz. Tuesday was such a day: I was in a class for a real estate thingie, and everyone was plodding through the course material on their own pc stations, when a guy near the front asked "now what do I do since I touched the touchy thing?" [translation - "what do I do after I click the hyperlink?"] I managed to not snort. Proud of me?

The Unicorn Kingdom Club



This is very special.

When you consider cases like this, I don't see how there can be any question of whether or not the death penalty is ever appropriate. Matter of fact, I don't think we could devise a death cruel or sinister enough for this pair. But I think we shouldn't let that deter us from taking a stab at it.

Vermin.

Wow, the things you learn about people you've known all your life can surprise you.

Had a great visit to the Ozarks. Went to see my Grandfather's two sisters, and that's always wonderful. They are cheerful, lovely women. They're both in their 80s, and are the spiky, sparky sort of women who crop up in my family pretty frequently. They are brilliant cooks and gardeners, and my crochet might approach being a pale shadow of theirs if I practice for about 30 more years.

My great-uncle was a POW during WWII, and I was startled when he brought out his photo the Nazi welcoming committee took of him on the first day at Stalag whatever-it-was. There was a series of numbers above his head, and another 7-digit number on a chalk board hung around his neck on a string. Shocking to see. Handsome young man, looked like a one not to be trifled with. He said the Allied troops gave them back their personal records from the camp files when they were liberated.

He'd been on the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps) up north building dams before he was drafted. Incredibly nice, quiet man, he is.

He volunteered to be the gunner for a mission to Germany, and the plane was shot down on that fateful day. I asked him what was going through his mind at the moment the photo was taken, and he said he was wondering when he would get out of there. He didn't mention it, but I know his shoulder was dislocated during a rough landing in the parachute, so he had to be in some degree of pain at that time, as well. He was 20 years old.

I asked how long he was imprisoned there, and he didn't miss a beat as he said "17 months and 7 days."

Greatest generation, indeed. We must take care to remember what our forebears have gone through in service of our country. They are not proud, and they don't go around tooting their own horns, but they deserve our respect and our thanks.

Cute girl with ukelele almost manages to make "Toxic" seem wholesome.

YAY! The Texas/Arkansas visitor center has free wi-fi! WOOHOO!
Stopping at Bryce's cafeteria *YAYS* and then 3 hours to home. *whew*

Starbucks doesn't have free wi-fi. *OH NOES!*
They are "partnered" with AT&T or somesuch. I told the dorky, doughy barrista with the 4-carat fake-diamond earstuds that it sounded better if they just said "Starbucks is in bed with T-mobile", or who-some-ever. Meh.

Yeah, so take your laptop to Starbucks, and you have to pay $9.99 to get on the internet.
What absolute twaddle!

Driving home to visit Grandpa in the Ozarks, I was astonished by the brocade tapestry of burnished leaves still clinging to the trees on the mountains. Amazingly, I saw a herd of deer grazing not 200 feet from the busy highway. I wondered if they figured out their odds were better near the motorists than deeper in the woods near the guys with guns.

It's always strange to go to Grandma's house without her there.

She was such a quiet person, and it was hard to tell when signs of Alzheimer's began to appear, or disappear, as it were. A little portrait I'd made for her when I was about 7 disappeared from a wall where it'd hung for about 25 years, I noticed, several years before her death. Another thing which went away was the totem pole S&P shakers my brother got her at the Grand Canyon, circa 1970. He blew his entire spending money for the trip on that one gift for her, and she'd always seemed to treasure it, giving it pride of place on the window sill above the kitchen sink.

I started to notice her repeating questions we'd answered only moments before. I then started to see something different in her eyes, and I worried that she was not merely being her usual quiet self, but was perhaps bewildered and wondering who we all were, strangers in a strange house.

Not wanting to disturb Grandpa at the back of the house, I brushed my teeth at the sink in the kitchen. As I popped my retainers onto my teeth, I looked at the spot where the Totem pole set always had been. There, in its place, was a porcelain mug delicately painted with blue forget-me-nots with her name printed below: Theresa.

I went to bed and slept under a patchwork quilt Grandma made from dresses I only remember from family photographs that were faded before I was born.

I could never forget you, Grandma.

Dateline: Texarkana

Staying at a motel on the Arkansas side, which is $15 more expensive than the motel room of the same chain across the road on the Texas side. Plumb tuckered out.

I made a couple cakes which seemed warmly received by family. Thanksgiving was nice and I got to see my siblings and parents, and didn't have to see any beastly people, so that was nice.

Highlight activity of the holiday was definitely shooting blow-darts, and I plan to order my own blow-dart setup as soon as I come home to Texas in a few days. I wowed the relatives with my style and accuracy. All those years of musical training finally paid big dividends when I managed to bury the darts in styrofoam, running through in some cases. (good breath control) How have I lived on this planet so long without experiencing the joy of blow-darts? Y'all oughta check it out.
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I saw an episode of Modern Marvels this week on cheese, and it made me remember my brilliant ideer for a cottage industry: a woolery/fromagerie (cheese-making outfit) supplied by angora bunnies. OK, that's sorta a joke, and sorta not. Sometime in the very near future, you'll hear of rabbit cheese sellng for $23/pound at Dean & DeLuca and you'll say "phlegmmy was spot-on & shoulda done that rabbit thingy."

Heather Mills-McCartney has gone off the deeper end of the deep end by suggesting humans wean off cow milk and to instead drink cat, dog and rat milk, since these animals exist in abundance. Seriously.

Paul McCartney has a net worth of 1.6 billion GBP. Her divorce case is requesting a settlement of 100 million pounds, but he's offered 50 million. Frankly, I think he needs to pony up the extra 50 million just to get his surname off her stationery. It'd be money well-spent.

That, of course, is not to say that I don't think he's a fruit-bat, too.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!



NASCARGOT

At last, a race I can really sink my teeth into. Pass the garlic butter.

This conversation really happened. I've tried to present what the other people said accurately, but it was smoky up in that joint and I may not have been paying total attention:

person one: You know, that movie version of Lonesome Dove really got period details right. For example, there's that part where Gus gets out that buffalo gun, and he used a special configuration of the sight to get a few hundred extra yards out of the shot.

person two: Yeah, the cool thing about that is the trajectory of any projectile follows a parabolic arc, and so if the earth's gravity were concentrated in a single point, the bullet would travel around that point and back again in an elliptical orbit.

Me: So, like, you could shoot yourself in the back?

*much honking*