ZEKs LITE

A quiet house

Blooming things about the house.

Living in a row house, we have limited space for growing things.

But I potted some bulbs last year.

We greeted the change to daylight savings time with some baked french toast (raisin bread, with apples).  Good smells help us wake up early. 

And we've spent the weekend waiting.  Watching our ailing Pete, who has stopped eating and drinking.  He's curled up in his blanket on our bed, less than half the kitty he was a year ago.  We expect we'll be saying goodbye soon.  We're sad.  It's a quiet house.

Reading our treads

About this time last year I started writing down the miles I walked and jogged.  Turns out I put 1,160 miles on my sneakers.  I showed my worn shoes to the good fellow at the local shoe store and asked him to read my treads.

He had me jog on their treadmill, with the camera behind me and the screen in front of me. I watched the back of my feet jogging along.  I am not symmetrical.  My left foot points out, requiring me to swing my left foot and arm around to the front if I want to run in a straight line.  It accounts for my hippity-hoppity stride that a couple folks have commented on.  It's also why I stand like Mary Poppins.  Ideally, I should have two different kinds of shoes, one for each foot, since they wear differently.  But I'm not going to do that.  I bought one pair.

Spring is a good time to read our treads and get some fresh ones.  I've got a conference-sized table up in the living room, covered with papers to file so I can do taxes.  Going through the past year's numbers is like counting miles, reading our treads.  Not a bad year -- could use a few more vacation and travel receipts, a few less medical bills, but otherwise, pretty OK.

So for the fresh start Spring calls us to, Z and I joined the Montgomery County Road Runners.  We signed ourselves up for the Beginning Women's Running program. By mid-summer we will run a 5K and get a T-shirt. Woo!

Name this stitch

Is it a cable?  Are extra wraps or slip stitches involved?  I wish the photo wasn't so blurry.

I wish I knew what it is called.  I can't find it on Ravelry, though I've found something similar in one of my stitch dictionaries.  If you've seen it before, or projects that include it, please let me know. 

The Netherfield socks pattern is close, but not quite the same (the little flower stitch in these is amazing!).

Time has whizzed by, with some temp work taking up the usually quiet mid-day project time.  That's not a bad thing, but I'm not used to it.

I think the lack of winter might be what makes things keep going as well.  We haven't had an opportunity to get cabin fever.  No ice, no morning walks below 30 degrees,  no commuters getting trapped in their cars for six hours...What kind of winter is this?  A great one! 

But pleasantly we woke up to an inch of snow this morning.

 

Now the fun can begin

Yahoo, it's January!  The longest possible time until next Christmas, which means if I start now, I won't feel so crazy as I did this year.  I can even get to work on presents I meant to make but didn't get around to, and give them out late if I feel like it.

We say this every year.  But some years we succeed.  It could happen.

For Z, right now is not so fun.  Not only will she need minor surgery on her aching big toe, but she has two weeks of exams to prepare for.  And the PE teacher says it's Polar Bear week, which means they go outside even if it's 20 degrees out there, which it is (what happened to our extended autumn?).

So to make herself feel better, she made this delightful video of happier times.  It includes several neighborhood children and her stuffed kitties, to the tune of a happy friendship song.

Don't feel bad if you aren't in it; she got a Flip camera a couple years ago and much of what is on this is leftovers from that time.  She hopes to make more fun videos soon.

Z and Visual Art Center

These strange objects are for drawing.  This is the Visual Arts Center of Montgomery County, located at Albert Einstein high school.  It's a studio for dedicated art students.

We don't know how Einstein got associated with the school that is known for it's visual and performing arts programs, but there you have it.  Maybe he could dance or act and we didn't know it.

The Visual Arts Center is a small school within a school.  It's entry by application, holding about 85 students from the entire county, grades 9-12. 

It's rigorous and time consuming. Its students frequently go on to art and design colleges.  They get a solid foundation, and then they are launched into their own personal pursuits.

There's a nifty video about it here.  It's a little long; start at the 45 second mark and quit when you get the idea.  It's got much better pictures than these.

We visited the Visual Art Center in November.  Z got very excited. She talked to a student and to the teachers, she saw everyone's work in progress.  The funky space felt to her like it should be her space too.

So in December she brought in her portfolio and was interviewed. 

It was one of those times when several years of seemingly unconnected activities all came together.  It was good that she had illustrated for Stone Soup, that she had been a summer art camp counselor, that she spent so much of her free time cartooning and studying cartoons -- turns out they display excellent composition sense. 

It was especially good that her art teacher had emphasized "observational art" -- drawing real life, objects in space, with value, depth and perspective.  That was a huge requirement.

Thanks to her good grades, good writing skills, and a glowing recommendation from her art teacher (again, thank you to the art teacher!), she was accepted on the spot!  Woo!

So how do we do this dance?  How does she go to two high schools at the same time, or does she transfer to Einstein?  She has a lot to think about.  I'm glad to not be working, because I may be the taxi that takes her to art school in the morning. 

We will start the new year in the counseling office, trying to create a schedule that will work.

Blink and you miss it

Sometimes Z will sit down with her Bamboo tablet and pen and doodle on the computer.

This image no longer exists in this form; I took the picture while she was doodling, and when I came back, it had changed considerably.

Not so innapropriate for a self-portrait of someone her age.  You blink and you miss it!

Speaking of fleeting things, if you have three minutes to spare, watch her video of us putting up The Tree.  It's our first and only home movie, and a happy one.

 

Climate change

Fall dropped upon us from above.  I think we'll get a colorful one, given all the recent rain.  As colorful as these stuffed peppers.

I'm not used to wearing long pants.  I found my socks.  The air conditioner doesn't come on anymore and I have a weird sluggish feeling...
I think I'm cold. 

Or caught a passing bug.  Ragweed.  Now I remember... this is the time of year that my head slips into a fog of Benedryl and sniffling nights. 

I'm learning to walk in my sleep.

County Fair

My time at the county fair was brief this year. 

I peeked at the arts and crafts, to get the scoop on Z's artwork (she did very well!) and then I joined the knitting ladies. 

If you have a "demonstration" of a craft, you get free admission to the fair.  So we were on display. 

I don't know whether anyone saw and learned, or just plopped down and joined us.  The group kept growing.  And then the thunderstorms came, so more folks piled in.

I never get tired of seeing what people bring to the fair. 

You can bring anything at all.  This angora rabbit was getting plucked and freed of its hot fur.

I missed seeing the baby calf and the baby camels.  Too rainy to get out.  But I enjoy the 4-H stuff a great deal.   As far as 4-H is concerned, if you made it, there's a place for it.  If you learned something new, you can proclaim it.

Even something as orinary as packing a good lunch is worthy of display space.

The toilet decorations are a bit strange to me; this was one of the few I think I could bear to have in my home.  And that says something.

I find inspiration in funny little places.  This painting is only about 3" x 2".  I think that's something I could manage.

Where's August?

August apparently was not full of crazy vacations.  When I look at the calendar page I made of all our goofing off last August, I feel like not enough has happened. 

Where are the funnel cakes, the waves, the ferris wheel?  The Oregon friends?

And yet I've felt too busy to post.  What does that mean?

I've been subbing for the church secretary.  I've done a lot of volunteering that involves sitting in front of the computer.  Knitting but not much finishing.

Z has done more, it seems.  She has some lovely pictures on her blog.  So check out She Came From Planet Z.

I've read two books.   Taken shrinking Pete to the vet twice.  And.... ?

today will be the county fair.  I will bring back some pictures of that for sure.

Yoga for traveling beetles

This is Child's Pose, for stretching out the back after poses in which the back is compressed.

This is the Lotus Pose, for relaxing at the end of yoga practice.

Z brought this beetle to me, because it is beautiful.  It reminded me of the time when her Uncle E and Aunt K moved to North Carolina.  Uncle E would mail me "the bug of the month."

We're headed to Florida, where we expect to find many bugs at
Me-Mom and Pop-Pop's place.

Worlds combined

Recently Z brought home some "unfinished" school art.  She was supposed to paint a picture of her heritage.

For many of the kids at her diversely populated school, defining one's traditions and land of origin is easy.  Everyone is from somewhere, or has grandparents from the motherland living with them. 

For others, knowing what makes you who you are is harder; it's a moving target for those who summer with relatives overseas and expect to move to new countries every few years. 

What is your heritage is when you're of Western European descent, planted firmly in the USA for several generations, with family roots divided and scattered over the country?

I'm not sure Z really wanted to think about this question. 

Based on the expressions on the faces of these sheep, I'd say she was struggling with the idea, or at least with the assignment.

So instead of painting broadly, she had to come up with an image of what she is holding on to right now.

With memories of the Pacific Northwest, and recent visions of places like West Virginia and western Maryland, she came up with this conglomerate painting. 

If who we are and where we come from can be a tea kettle, a fir tree, and a Scrabble board, then it can also be a knitting needle, a rubber raft, a thumbprint cookie, or a mountain.

Pete watches SNL

We caved.  We got Hulu Plus for the Roku box.  OMG -- Every season of the X-Files.  Saturday Night Live.  Gumby.  We could rot in front of the screen forever.  Well, it's cheaper than cable.

Whe the SNL commercial with the cats coughing up hairballs came on, we thought Pete might like to see it.  Although he enjoyed being wheeled into the living room on his favorite chair, he hadn't a clue about the cats.

Tests came back: all normal.  Why is he losing weight?  Dunno.  Feeding him lots and lots, and he's eating.  Let's see if we can fatten this kitty up.

Meanwhile, Fuzzy sulks in the carrot pot, caring less for the the feeding frenzy than the the fact that her brother gets so much attention.

So Tired

The Rummage Sale is over.  I still have a roomful of pretty things to take to a consignment shop, but the big Thing is over and the crazy shoppers are at home with their new stuff.

I'm exhausted.  I didn't even put in half the hours that most of the workers in their 70s did.  As usual, they outlast me in every way.  I feel like Gus here, who spent all his time snuggling with the pillows and blankets.

E is in England.  We thought he was coming home early, with the government shut-down looming for so long.  But he stays another week to eat his pub food and cheese sampler plate.  He says this is a typical dinner offering at Cambridge.  The wine is free too.  We'll have lots of photos of London and Cambridge when he gets back.

Ready to Rummage

It's Rummage Sale week!  Every autumn and every spring, huge bags come out of the church's shed and it absolutely amazes me how much stuff has been donated, how much furniture, antique-y things, useful things and strange things.

The set-up takes a week and starts today.  Today is Hauling Things from the Shed day.  I have been fortunate.  I was recruited to work in the "Boutique" with all the pretty, clean and pricey stuff.  That means we hang things on nice racks (instead of folding on tables) and line up the shoes and sort out the jewelry.  It's calm and less allergenic in there.

Last year in the boutique I found E a wool suit priced at $10.  It looked great on him and fit perfectly, so we had it cleaned.  I don't think it had been worn for at least 30 years, so it was retro vintage which he liked.

Anyway, all of this means I won't get as much knitting done.  Or cooking, or anything else.  Last night was a pot of chicken soup that I hope lasts a few days.

Last night's knitting was all about sideways ribbings and their selvages.  Also how Judy's Magic Caston enables a knitter, via grafting or The Zipper, to make a seamless sideways tube and keep knitting without cutting the yarn.  I was playing with some glorious sock yarn called Grateful Dyed by the Wild Hare.  I played so hard with this yarn I had to recondition it a few times, but it is hardy stuff.

Trapped

Last night E and I concluded our Aliens movie marathon.  We concluded that nobody needs to see Aliens 3, and that the humor in Aliens is worth the constant screaming and shooting.  The first one is the best.

But somewhere between movies, before the pasta dinner with rhubarb pie and the friends having the cookie face race, I fiddled with a loose doorknob and unknowingly broke it.

You know how you clean house sometimes for guests, by throwing stuff in a room and shutting the door?  The usual bags of yarn in the kitchen were hauled upstairs, into the crafty-goodness-yarn-room with the broken doorknob.  Where it was stuck. 

All my YARN was TRAPPED. 

It was the scariest thing that I saw that night, that locked door.  Worse than drooling double-jawed beasties, dreams of monster pregnancies, or Sigourney Weaver running through fiery caverns with machine guns.

But about midnight, after screwdrivers, paperclips, the key, and finally a plastic card, I got that sucker open.

Surgery sock

E had his hernia surgery today.  He's home, it went well, and we hope it stays that way.

It gave me a reason to work on the mate to the Gallbladder Surgery Sock.  I got about three inches knit while waiting for him to be fixed and recovered.

The lovely bag here is from Marsbarn.  She's the best. 

Welcome to snotville

Imagine that this is a tissue box. 

I've been going through them at an astonishing rate.  E gave me his snot-virus.  He's better now, and I slept til noon today.  Bluh.

Should I be happy about this?

Yes, Microwave S'mores are something to be happy about.  But I'm thinking of something else.

My cell phone disappeared, I think on the metro.  Someone sent two text messages from it to an unknown Beaverton, Oregon number before I managed to shut it down.  So if you call my cell phone, you'll hear a message about me not receiving calls.

So I'm free.  It feels sort of wonderful.  But also sort of sad -- I had to have my sim card remotely zapped so no one could continue to use my contacts list.  That means all those numbers are gone gone gone...

Pete, Pete, you don't know what is safe to eat

He cannot be trusted.  Twice he stole gingerbread cookies off the table.  And recently, pumpkin seeds.  First it was the kind in the shell, that I had toasted and salted.  He vomited profusely.  Next it was the raw seeds alone, from the store.  He vomited profusely.  He does not make any connection between the seeds he eats and the seeds he vomits.

Lately he hunches on the kitchen floor in the "meatloaf" position, which is what he does when his tummy hurts.  I have been watering down his wet cat food in order to rehydrate him.

Pete's pet

He'd been staring at the base of the oven for three days.  He was sure he saw or heard something down there.  I believed him -- perhaps a cricket or spider, I thought.

Then one morning Z was eating breakfast when Pete batted a little fuzzy thing across the floor -- fffsssttttt.

"Mom, it's a frog!"

It was a fuzzy frog. 

Z dropped it in water (it took a couple changes of water to get the fuzz off) and then let him hop outside.

Perhaps he came inside on the plants, which recently were moved inside to avoid the coming cold.  Silly me -- it's been in the balmy 70s the last few nights, and the plants and frog both would have been much happier outside.

Gallbladder Gone!

I have a photo of E's inflamed and enlarged bile bucket organ... I'm not going to put it on the internet though.  The surgeon teased me about it -- he was sure that's why I wanted it.  He pretended not to hear me when I asked if we could keep it.  Having seen the picture he granted, I understand why we don't want to keep it.

E is sore.  He's full of Perkoset.  Life is hard right now but has the promise of getting better.

Meanwhile, I hope soon to post more pictures of my Dookie Bird.  I attended a bird-making workshop, and I'll share the goodies with you soon.

Recovery

Between sleep lost while E was in the hospital, and allergies inflamed by the heaps of dusty rummage sale items, my system is breaking down and threatening a virus. 

Yesterday I took a three hour nap and so far it seems the virus is at bay.

Not that the older folks running the sale seemed to be so affected.  As I floated in my Benedryl haze, they buzzed for fourteen hours straight. 

The gal with the hardware in her back looked tired, but worked longer than I did.  The sweet old guy who hollers a lot was quick on his long legs and sharp enough to notice swapped price tags and items tucked inside other items (thieves abound, even at church rummage sales).  One older woman had just returned from a three week trip overseas, and should have been jet-lagged from her time in Asia, but she was hopping about cheerfully in her little heels for fourteen hours straight.  She managed to shower and put on makeup and nice clothes.  Not me--I could not keep up with them.  Also I could not stop eating the cookies that someone kept baking and bringing in. 

There is a lesson to be learned in this, but I'm not sure what it is.

Gallbladder must go

E had an unexpected two-night stay in the hospital this week.  He has gallstones.  Until we learned that, it was a lot of pain and a lot of tests.  What a relief to get the results: Good heart, good pancreas, good intestines.  Bad gallbladder. 

It will have to come out.  But not before E and Z take off for three nights in New York City.  We are so glad they get to go! 

And me, I get to help run the church rummage sale, wheee!  Friday we are open from 9 am to 8 pm.  Hoo boy.

Shopper's bulimia

In the last month I've returned three pairs of boots I purchased online.  When a good sales comes up, I look at boots, I click exactly the specifications I need for my big weird feet, and I order two pair while they are all still on sale.  Then I wait.

Waiting for boots is fun.  Opening and trying them on is fun.  But when none feel good or fit right, I send them all back.  Sending them back is ridiculously easy.

So it becomes sort of a game... Let's hit a sale and see how many boots can arrive on our doorstep!  Never leave the house, try on a really expensive pair of footwear and only pay the shipping (and only one way)!  I haven't spent much money and I've had a good time waiting for a package.  Is it an illness?

No, really I just want the boots.  I've wanted comfortable knee-high boots for years!  And I want to pay a reasonable price for them.  Cheap maybe.

Box number four is on its way.  This one better be good.

Halloween come early

I spent the morning and afternoon cleaning up cat barf.  It's all my fault--I let him out on the patio and he ate the grass that makes him puke.

So to cover the smell in the basement, I burned a candle.

Never burn a candle on a metal plate.

First Day of Grade 7

This isn't really the picture I took this morning, but that one was overexposed and grainy (how?) so I put this here instead.

Maybe it's more accurate for the feeling of entering Grade 7.

Anyway, these big pierced lips are really a large hexagon unit with some brass stitchmarkers in it so I know where to make my decreases. 

Loving all the little things

I don't know why exactly, but I'm in some sort of super happy place.  I'm just loving the little things. 

Seinfeld reruns and America's Test Kitchen in the evenings, E fixing and tweaking his new bike, thrift store shopping with Z where she found a gorgeous new skirt (tags still on) for less then $2.

Aunt B and Uncle P just landed in Prague, their new home, with baby O.  Now that's a big thing.

The Plan

Z has reached a critical age: The age of wanting to choose one's clothes, purchase project materials, go to movies, maybe even walk to the town center with a friend to hit the toy store and ice cream shop.

Money.

The monthly allowance thing has never stuck... Stone Soup and birthday money have been sufficient.  So Z hasn't had one.

When I was about this age, I was put on what I now call The Plan.  I was given what I needed to survive, in terms of the most inexpensive of clothes, school supplies, etc. on a monthly basis.  Anything else I "needed"... Earn it, Baby.  Meanwhile, learn to save up for those new sneakers before you outgrow the current ones.  Learn to hit the sales.

To commemorate Z's induction into The Plan, I made her this purse.

Commission, collage, computer

E and I were out having some sort of a time when Z got the phone call from the editor of Stone Soup.  She's got another commission.  So off to work she goes!

Meanwhile, our main computer is dead.  Perhaps it is the hard drive.  E is doing various things to it.  We dream of just getting a Mac, and all the lovely illustration software that Z would so enjoy using on it...

Dead computer means I snag the laptop here and there, agonizing over the lousy monitor and trying to type with the finger I accidentally chopped with my wonderful new knife.  I was dicing a nice hot chili pepper at the time so I figure it was instantly sanitized.  It sure felt like a disinfectant... my knife skills could use a little work.

And while we try to work, the power comes and goes.  The lightning strikes, the wind blows!  We do have power right now.  And thankfully cooler weather.

Fabuloulsy 40

Z piled up some beautiful collages for me on top of the mysery gifts that E got for my...

40th birthday!

Whee!  It's a milestone.

Here's a close-up of that especially beautiful birthday collage.

My gift from E was unexpected and truly wonderful.  How happy is a girl with a good sharp knife?  Stand back.

Of course, the first thing it cut was me.  The second was a tomato. 

It was like the tomato wasn't even there; the weight of the knife alone was enough to cut it--like falling through butter.  Wow. 

He also got me a sharpener, hee hee.

News Flash! New Smile for Z!

The braces are off! 
The braces are off! 

Isn't her smile lovely?  She took very good care of her teeth the whole time, so has no spots on them.  Hooray for diligent Z!  She will get prizes.

Next week, upper and lower retainers.

Misty garden

It's that time of year again, when we wake up to the jungle.  Our house is cooler inside than the steamy outside air, and the dew point is 72 degrees.

The little tomato likes it though.  Hopefully the houseplants I've moved outside are happy.  Last year's Easter lily will bloom soon.

The oregano is bolting and the salad is too bitter to eat, thanks to the heat.  I've chopped it down and planted summer veggies in its place.   

Free at last!

Yesterday Z brought home this enormous backpack, plus a four-inch-thick binder.  What a load to lug!  She's glad to be rid of it.

Today's the last day.  She is no longer in the 6th grade!

Sir Barfsalot

Oh, the antibiotics don't agree with Pete.  Today I took a risk and gave him some yogurt.  Anything to help his tummy.  One last pill remains, but I can't shove it down his throat.  I can't bear any more spew.

In a few days we'll know if that was the real cause.  Can't wait to take him to the vet again...

Pete goes to the dentist

He lost a pound and a half --that's good! -- and he had very bad breath -- that's bad. 

At first we just thought he was gross but disciplined with his eating.  But the vet says no, he's got dental issues and it hurts to eat dry food.

So he went under sedation at the vet for the day.  His teeth were cleaned top to bottom.  He got an
x-ray and some antibiotics.

Hopefully he'll feel better soon.  And it's a good thing I'll be earning a paycheck soon.

J-J-J... I can't say it

My neighbor calls up and says she knows this guy in Ohio... Somehow, after severe acid indigestion and a short outdoor interview, I ended up with a job. 

It's a teenie weenie one, involving some driving and paper pushing and really, a rather flexible schedule.  Just right for a stay-at-home mom who hates cubicle life.

Then I realized I also just signed up to help with membership at the fiber guild, and to do church bulletins while the usual volunteer is unable.  I appear to have made myself busy.

Where did all my knitting time go?  I must frantically goof off while I still can.

Blossoms to berries

Our tiny backyard garden is flourishing with colorful treats.

A garden is not complete without a mysterious bowl of mud.   

Health and horn-blowing

News of the day:

We're all full of phlegm and Benedryl.

Z had her last band concert of the school year last night.

Therefore it is time to clean the trombone. 

I just discovered I can mix cayenne pepper into melted chocolate chips and create an extremely tasty decongestant.  It's especially good because Z won't steal it.

Where I'm blogging from

This is a message from the past.  Wednesday morning, actually.  So were the last few posts about pet hair, pollen and so forth.

Where are we? 
We are coming home from Florida.  Me-Mom and Pop-Pop will have fed us and possibly taken us to Disneyworld... We shall see!

Shedding

Yes, another pet post.

The hair piles up at his back end when we pet him.  I need a pet vacuum; one that is quiet and gently massages. 

It's for Pete.  Really.

May showers

Z returns today from outdoor ed!  She will have two disposable cameras full of photos, which we will print and scan and hopefully enjoy soon here on the blog.

I think it might have rained on her a lot.  I hope she does not come home too soggy. 

A view of the patio

Z was outside doing her homework yesterday, so I hung out of the bedroom window to get a photo.  Part of the salad garden is visible, and Button is lolling.  

Housplants are starting to live outside, where the heat and light and humidity can help them.  Also I can hose them off.  Pollen is collecting like dust on everything.  Achoo.

It's a nice space to be in, if you remember to wear shoes.  The prickly holly leaves are not good to step on.

Stories, snacks and stitches

Nearly each evening E reads aloud to us from Harry Potter.  Last night we heard the first chapter of the climactic 7th book. 

E is a fun reader, performing all the character voices.  If there's too much Hagrid or Dumbledore, his throat gets a little raw.  Too much Voldemort and we all deveop sinister nasal tones.  Fleur Delacour is especially fun.

Here's the routine: Watch a rerun of Seinfeld, then The Office, then read a chapter.  In between I am asked to make a snack. 

It occurs to us that we don't need much in the way of entertainment.  Stories, crafts, snacks, and folks to share them with; that'll do.

During the reading and shows, I knit.  Lately I've knit prayer shawls, but really they are Potter shawls; the praying will have to be done done by someone else later.

I'm on my second shawl of the year (the red one, from gifted chenille).  The first one was blue and wavy. 

The shawls are blessed and given to folks who are undergoing illness, loss, or any situation that calls for a gesture of support. 

Growing things

What's to say? 
Z is over 5'3".  Her feet keep growing... had to buy new dress shoes last week.  The new ones I bought for the fall band concert won't fit for the spring one.

The grass is growing.  So's the laundry pile.  My sociability is growing.  I've been helping with the church rummage sale.  I can manage about three hours a day before I retreat.
E's love of his work is growing.  My ability to consider working again is but a sprout.  Something about being transplanted sort of wore me out.

Thanks to the treadmill, my lung capacity is growing.  My attitude is improving.  Nature's Prosac, E says.

So there is growth.  I can feel it. 
It's due.

Soylent Green is not essential for cultural literacy

I think E and I need to be made to write lines.  We messed up in the parental department of Disturbing Media Presentations.

We try to be culturally literate.  Netflix has brought us Citizen Kane, Fiddler on the Roof, Michael Jackson's This is It.  We've also seen numerous TV comedies and internet sensations, such as Doctor Horrible's Singalong Blog. 

Having recently seen Planet of the Apes, and finding it hilarious--finding Charlton Heston hilarious and a key inspiration for Captain Zap Brannigan of Futurama--we thought maybe Soylent Green would be just as fun.

It was not.  We have never put such awful things before our daughter's eyes, worse than the abattoirs of Food, Inc., as socially upsetting as Fantastic Planet, which I once thought was spacey and artistic.  That was before I'd been to the Holocaust museum.

What to do at 9:30 pm, when you've just shown your kid something horrid?  Quick, put on a comedy, burn out the brain cells and put them to bed.  Then in the morning we can discuss all the gritty details that were so troubling... how in the 70's people were exploring concepts like global warming and environmentalism, feminism, civil rights, and the memories of obscene acts of inhumanity.  Who could ever make light of these things?  OK, Mel Brooks can, but it will be a long time before I show Z The Producers.  If ever.

By the way, the green thing above is a sock experiment.  It looks modular, but it's all one continuous thread.  The yarn is by Three Irish Girls.

Planning when we'd rather be lazy

The sun has been coming in.  It makes us think of summer.

So we've been making plans.   I don't like to plan.  But it feels good after.

Washington state, Baltimore, Ocean City, San Francisco (for E), Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival, Florida (Me-Mom & Pop-Pop), art camp... tax refund and flyer miles well spent.

Back in the sandals again

For a few days now it's been sunny and 70 degrees. So I'm actually not wearing socks with my sandals after about 11 am. 

Wow, what happens to the brain when warm sunny air hits it!  I feel inebriated.

Simplicity, soon

It's a wonderful feeling, when TurboTax sends that message telling me I've successfully filed.

This year was so messy for that.  But next year... ahh, next year is going to be divine.  Next year will be simplicity itself.

It's that time of the year

Oh yes.  TurboTax and the File box.

It's the year in reverse order.  Medical bills, report cards, home sale papers, summer camp forms, airline tickets, donation receipts.  It takes hours to sort it all out.  I'm only just beginning.

Mini movie

E has been amusing himself by clicking back and forth quickly on these two photos in our photo folder.  Doing so makes a mini-movie of Pete yawning.

Or maybe he's saying NO MORE SNOW!  Here are the names the blogosphere has been giving to our situation:

December snow:  Snowpacalypse.
Last weekend snow:  Snowmageddon.
This week's snow:  Snowverkill.