HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Rule of Good Form

I'm reading Going Postal by Terry Pratchett right now, and have been for a while. I don't get a lot of time for reading, and that's odd, considering I don't even watch television-- I'm just too busy, so I may read a few pages every night as I'm drifting off.

In brief, a condemned man is snatched from the maw of death at the gallows (La Femme Nikita-style) and given a second lease on life as the postmaster of a woefully inept postal system in Ankh-Morpork which has ground to a halt and is something of a joke. O'ertaken by a fit of industrial zeal, the new postmaster revamps and revitalizes the postal system. At least, that's how it is so far...

The funny thing is that so much of it is reminding me of my early days working for the US Postal Service. I really thought the letters were precious cargo, there being something sacrosanct with being entrusted their handling. It wouldn't be long before I felt that I was the only one under that roof with that sense of responsibility. Anyway, it seems naive and rather silly now, but I admit this book brings that back as a sort of bittersweet twinge. I'm wondering how this will end, but I do hope it does so happily, things being the way they ought and all. Being a Discworld book, there will no doubt be some strangeness, but hopefully a harmonic sort of strangeness, just the same.

Anyway, one thing I love about having moved out to a small, older town is that we have a proper post office here, one which is nearly 100 years old and is a grand structure on a relatively small scale. The floors and woodwork are immaculately kept, and all the solid brass fittings positively gleam. You can tell that a lot of pride and care went into the design of the structure, and that it has been impeccably attended by all the folks charged with its maintenance along the way. That's something you can't fake with a new, thrown-up-overnight structure that passes for our public buildings these days. The people who built this post office all those years ago took the purpose of the building very seriously. I wish we collectively took more things seriously these days. Instead, it seems like shopping mall/strip mall design is more an influence in the composition and form of public buildings. Such a pity. We've definitely lost something there. At least for me, in my beloved little Elsewhere, I can go into the Post Office and appreciate what it took to build and maintain that place. Well, not lost, entirely.
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For the first time since I began my job in May, I called in sick Tuesday, and will again today. Good thing, too. I went to a walk-in urgent care place, saw a physician's assistant, and they took some xrays. They told me I had a little inflammation in my lungs, but that I'd be fine with mostly over the counter stuff. About an hour later, they called me and said a radiologist looked at my films and that I have a mild case of pneumonia. Bugger. I'm on a zpac now, and hopefully that will knock this out. All in all, I have a lot to be thankful for, and for one, I'm thankful I found out about this before it reached the mandatory hospitalization stage. It's inconvenient and definitely putting a damper on my Christmas spending, but I'm just happy to be here. I'm happy just to be.
I hope everyone will have a happy Thanksgiving. :) I intend to.

Mr. Bean Takes An Oyster

Last week I picked up Mr. Bean Takes A Holiday for $9.99. The seafood spectacle is one of the funniest scenes on film, in my humble opinion.

Here's a tiny taste.



The rest of the oyster scene is side-splitting. Funny thing to me is that I love raw oysters, and even I can understand why they are such a repellent prospect to some folks. Mr. Bean shows why. I think that bit about the oyster moving around the shell in its death throes is a myth, though. Have never seen it, myself.

Babysitting How-To

Saturday I babysat the sprogs for dear friends while they went to the new queerwolf/fagpyre movie. They were very sweet, quite well-behaved and generally tended themselves. No limbs were lopped off and I'm calling that a win/win. The trick of good babysitting is knowing how much to allow them to self-manage. Of course, these kids are smart and not monstrous at all, so left to their own devices is not generally a bad thing in their case. I think I did rather well, don' t you?

Still sicky but I expect to make it in to work today. Feeling much better. My joints are aching like mad, but were much worse Saturday night. Have had a little fever here and there, but that's not been bad. No sneezing, but I do have some congestion in my lungs.

Someone has made me promise to go to the doctor if I'm not better soon, so hopefully that won't be necessary.

Sick Puppy... Saturday Night Fever edition

Meaning me.

Teh puppehs are happy as clams at high tide and fine as frog hair. This weekend we'll probably put a moratorium on the no pups on mama's good sheets rule, as I'm in need of little fur hot water bottles.

I think this is the flu. It stresses me out, and since the near-fatal bout with pneumonia a couple years ago, I'm frightened of any sniffle or illness-- I know what a slippery slope it such things can be. I had some amazing health insurance then and I don't now. This time, though, I know I won't have [content deleted on second thought] and I'm calling that a net win, whatever the outcome.

Will write again when I feel better. *ugh*

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er, just a quick little rant, mebbe.

Speaking of things purported to be unreasonably warm wot weren't: as the whole climategate thing unravels, I'm waiting to hear how Al Gore was knowingly, intrinsically tied to the deception, and all the while profiting from same.

Thank goodness he invented the internet, eh?

There. Feeling better already.

Dear Santa...

I've been terribly, terribly good all year.

Please bring me one Alien Abduction Lamp. I know I was trying to break with my neo-trashical tradition and have a more grown-up environment, but I just cain't quit kitsch. Me love this lamp long time.

KTHXBYE!

Lawdog Unplugged. er. Unleashed.

...and speaking of command performances...

Recently I was driving down the road with LawDog riding shotgun and listening to rock and roll radio.

The great thing about good times is that even songs you once thought were right crap sound good to you. Fortunately, most of the tracks on that station were good ones, songs I'd merrily howl along to in front of just about anyone. As the opening strains of Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap filled the air, I said "will you sing?" He shook his head and said "no tulips."

Such a tease. He then proceeded to sing about cyanide, TNT, high voltage and things too fierce to mention, sans tulips, tophat and pink gorilla suit. The audience was thrilled, I tell you. Thrilled.

Have you heard that saying about being careful what you wish for? Well, the shy singer finally brought round to singing is apparently hard to shut up.

Tole's kiddo was in a school concert recently, and out in the audience LawDog couldn't help singing along to the recurring ditties sung to the tune of On Top Of Old Smoky. I actually had to pinch him to get him to put a cork in it, and even then, he snuck in references to meatballs and cheese.

Sly dog.
Perhaps a duet?

Imogen Heap: adorable creature.

At the end of the Dallas show on Tuesday night, Imogen conducts the audience in a drone as she starts Hide And Seek. Thanks for the video, BlowFuzzy von Sassy. The video is not incredibly clear, but you can get an idea of what's going on in just under a minute.

One of the great things about her shows is that they are so full of life, so spontaneous. First song out of the box was "First Train Home" where she laid down her background track in loops of her voice and other instruments and she goofed and sang the bridge to the second chorus on the first verse. I saw her shake her head right after and when she completed her chorus with her looped audio, she said "I'm going to sing that verse until I get it right" and she started all over. Everyone laughed, and it was even better the second time. If you're running things and they are not overly-programmed, you can do that at the last minute. No Milli Vanilli here.

Her shows are delightful, and her stage banter is adorable. She prattles at the equipment, willing it to behave, and I always feel she's about to turn back to the stage with a big tarnished silver tray of mismatched dainty tea china and offer us all a cup. Quite fetching, she.

If you care to watch, here's another video someone else took Tuesday night of Headlock:

Plumb Tuckered Out.

Imogen Heap's show in Dallas was fantastic. Drove the 3 hours in to home tonight.

Will prattle excitedly RE: Miss Heap on the morrow. For now, I'm for bed then work in a scant few hours.



Though I doubt there are tickets left, Imogen is playing La Zona Rosa in Austin tonight. It's not the best venue, but it is spacious, and the show would be a delight in any venue.

Dueling moonbats.

Move over, Earth First. You've got some heavy competition in the looney stakes from the sensitive souls at Friends of the Moon. Apparently they had a bit under the moon over a NASA vehicle crashing into our most famous satellite, recently.

Considering how's we never see what's on the dark side of the moon, and seeing as how we're running out of storage bins for our crap, I think we're missing out on a real landfill opportunity up there.

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In more fun news, tonight I'll mosey on over to see Imogen Heap at the Granada Theater in Dallas. YAYS!!!

I know. What was I thinking? I'm not a kid anymore. Drive 3 hours each way and no booze when I get there. Insanity.

S'gonna be fun, though, hanging out with sis and niece. Can't wait, actually.

Some day, none of these puppies will be mine...

but aren't they superb?

I do love little oddball backstroke boy. Whatever works, I suppose!

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: BIG YAWNZ...

COZ I R SLEEPY!

I will not take a puppy! I will not take a puppy! I will not take a puppy!

This weekend is so chock-full of schnitzel cuteness...

...that we have to have a Saturday, Puppy Saturday this week.

The baby wieners are getting a little more active, a little more feisty.

How sweet is this?

I will not take a puppy. I will not take a puppy. I will not take a puppy.

Barn-Dishing with the Farm Family

...and brandishing as well. *pow!* *pow!*

I'm not insinuating myself into the glory that was Blogorado-- this really happened.

I had a gun blogger party at my apartment in Dallas on January 31, and a lot of fabulous folks came. Peter asked me if I would mind having FarmGirl along to the party. Of course, I joined in the invitation and FarmGirl was a delightful addition to the party. By the end, FG was saying "do you think anyone would come if I had a blogger party?"

Absolutely.

I have to say FarmFamily really pulled out all the stops for us. Blogorado was a fantastic gathering and folks came from all over the country, so there was no question of the willingness of folks to show up to that relatively remote locale.

This whole post is by way of saying an enormous thank you to FarmGirl for planning this event, and to the whole FarmFamily for making it such a warm, memorable occasion.

FarmDad and aepilotJim and Old NFO set up the firing range. FarmDad is this incredibly resourceful fellow who has no end of talent. He made some toe-curlingly delectable salsa (I'll be going to Colorado for more one day soon) and he apparently can replace radiators and I've seen him operating heavy equipment. He is probably too self-effacing to say so, but I'd count him among the precious handful of true Renaissance men I've known in my life. Good man, he.

FarmMom is absolutely golden. There is a lovely golden light about her and I can think of many fine things to say, but among those is my highest praise of just about any person: she makes gravy that'd make you want to slap yer grandma. Actually, I wouldn't slap my grandma because my grandma made gravy just like that. I'm just saying that I believe gravy such as FarmMom's could bring about peace in our time. Her gravy is a work of art. I'm saying FarmMom needs to do a gravy blog. I'm completely objective about this: I know from good gravy. That was good gravy.

Wait. I'm slobbering. Back on track.

Anyway, FarmFamily is comprised of the kindest and best of folks, and I'm honored to have enjoyed their hospitality, and I hope to again, soon, and to return the compliment. I'm deeply grateful to be counted among your distinguished guests, and I thank you for your hospitality.


Cheers, m'dears!