loose string

"One-way streets and square one, The answers don't come from any one direction"

 

Did you count your fingers after shaking my hand

The thing is that this weekend was lovely, not least of all because it involved napping.  Sad, but true, napping is a highlight for me.

For the last week I have been going, going, going.  There was a project for my photography class and there was work and there was a college receeption for my son that we had to attend and, I have to be honest,  after the sixth straight day of running around I may have gotten a little bit cranky.  So, this weekend was more about the relaxing and the naps.

My project got done but, of course, there is a new project.  It will have to wait until the weekend because it involves taking pictures of the same setiing several different times throughout a day.  Starting at sunrise.  I had this odd premonition that we would have to do something that would involve me waking up at the crack of dawn.  Sure enough. 

Today I went to the Arboretum again.  This time I parked and got out for a hike because the weather was gorgeous and sunny and warm.  Just the weather I had been hoping for last weekend.  The place was hopping and full of visitors but there was still a bit of peace and quiet to be found out in the middle of the
woods.  I slapped the IPod in my ears to give the illusion of being alone and headed out. 



If you click on this photo there are more photos

I had a really lovely and exhausting day but the good kind of exhaustion rather than wearing yourself out just from the tension and the crazy. There  is a little bit of me that would like to sleep in a tent and wash my face in the cold water and hide out for a month or two in the Arboretum.  A very small part.  Not enough to overcome my basic aversion to camping and my fondness for 400 thread count sheets and a pillow top mattress.

I ventured into the gift shop.  It was over run with people but I kept the headphones on.  It gives me the little illusion of mental distance.  Works wonders.  They have some lovely things and I could have spent a good deal of money.  I showed great restraint.  I may have purchased a gift for my sister's impending 40th birthday.

While I was walking along the lake I spotted a woamn coming towards me with a dachshund.  Dogs are not really allowed but I am not the Arboretum police so I stopped to pat the little guy.  We got to talking - the lady and I - about what nice dogs dachshunds are.  I mentioned that we have two.  She got very excited and told me all about a dachshund parade that she organizes in a nearby town and invited us to bring the pups.  She says that there were a hundred dachshunds at the parade this year.  As my son said,  "That has to be the cutest freaking thing ever."  We will be attending and there will be pictures.

We had all gone our separate ways but we managed to get together for dinner.  I made enchiladas with red chile. They were delicious.   I am now very full and very tired and very content.

Back under the rock I go.

posted by: loosestring at 23:43 | link | comments (3) |

Another award I did not win

Sometimes I wish there was a way to get a little acknowledgement for not saying every single bitchy thing that I think.  I am, by no means, perfect but I have come a long way in filtering and editing and just plain keeping my mouth shut.  Even when the potential target of my scathing vitriol is persistent.  When they are really asking for it.  When they are working my last nerve.  I still do not tell them what I really think.  Sometimes the effort required to restrain myself is exhausting.  Unfortunately, in order to bring this restraint to the attention of someone who could appreciate it would run directly contrary to my effort.

A quandary.

This is by way of informing the internet that I have exercised great restraint on this day.  In spite of the fact that my boss was being a completely insufferable pain in my ass, I did not answer his asinine questions or suggestions with anything resembling the sarcasm I felt.  Sure, he could fire me and then I would be living in a cardboard box on lower Wacker and I hate to camp so I know I would not like that.  Sure, he has the whole being my boss and, therefore, technically "the boss of me" thing going for him.  But, really, I could have really let loose today. 

Could have but did not.

That is all.

posted by: loosestring at 00:36 | link | comments |

Keeping you abreast of the news

I am increasingly aware that my elaborate youthful plans to escape the backwater of rural New Hampshire have fallen short of their aim. 

I live in a fairly good-sized suburb of Chicago.  I have lived in Chicago proper but for the last five years I have lived out here in the land where Billy Graham is worshipped and buildings are erected in his honor.  It is a peaceful place and I try to balance the peace and quiet of this town with all of the finer things that Chicago has to offer.  Crazy politics, ethnic diversity, culture, sports, fabulous food, great architecture.

The scales tilt slightly farther to the Mayberry side when I pick up this week's edition of the local paper and read the blazing headline: "Hot dog Guy, county find common ground".  Yes, that is right, the hard-hitting controversies are always covered with amazing depth and analysis.

The story is sordid and convoluted but the pertinent facts are:

1. There is a fixture of downtown life in our little town from April to October.  A gentleman who sells, you guessed it, hotdogs from a cart.  I believe it is similiar to the type of street vendor you might find in any town or city.  He sells hotdogs and chips and soda.  From his quaint little cart at the corner of Main Street and Crescent Avenue.  His establishment is a highlight of my dogs' downtown weekend walks.  They stop by, offer tail wagging and general cuteness and are rewarded for their efforts with a bit of hotdog.

2.Said gentleman has apparently been a fixture in town for lo these last ten years or so.

3. Recently the County Health Department revoked his vendors permit and forbid him to continue to sell his hotdogs without changing something to do with the storage of his cart.  They did not say that he had made anyone sick or that he had been unclean. Just that he was supposed to be storing his cart in a commercial facility.  The initial revocation of his permit was front page news.

4. It sparked a debate and a good deal of public outrage.  There was a petition circulated to "Save the Hotdog Guy".

5. Recently, according to this latest article, there has been some allowance made in the licensing that will reinstate his permit and allow him to continue the downtown hotdog tradition that cements our community.  And the town rejoiced.

6. There is a bit of remaining controversy surrounding this allowance.  It has been suggested by some that our county health laws are being compromised.  We have started down a slippery slope.  If we allow The Hotdog Guy an exception to the rules, what is next?  Some crazy falafel vendor?  A portable tandoori oven?  Chicken on a stick?  Where will this madness end?

I am proud to know that my tax dollars are hard at work keeping this community safe.  I do, however, have a couple of observations that I would like to share with anyone willing to listen.

 While I appreciate the continued efforts of the local government to install child safety features on all aspects of my life, I must say that I have a strong suspicion that hotdog carts are not the primary threat to public health that has been suggested.  Further, I think that anyone willing to eat food off of a cart in the middle of the sidewalk assumes a certain risk in said choice of meal.  There is, additionally,  some debate and a touch of mystery with regard to the component ingredients.  My father always said it was lips and assholes.  But maybe that was just my grandmother's recipe.  Nothing that a good glop of ketchup wouldn't mask.

And that's the way it is.

posted by: loosestring at 01:19 | link | comments (3) |

Pictures in lieu of content

These are from the series I am working on for school:

posted by: loosestring at 10:22 | link | comments (1) |

Here are the pictures from Sunday.  You can clearly see that it was beautiful and I have no idea what would cause weeping. Maybe craziness?

posted by: loosestring at 22:58 | link | comments |

Mood swings and hormones, oh my!

It was ten years ago, right around this very time of year that I had a complete hysterectomy.  I had been struggling with pain management for endometriosis for awhile and I finally was told that I had two choices: I could get pregnant and that would throw off the horrible pain-inflicting menstrual gnomes for a couple of years or I could have a complete hysterectomy.  I was in no mental condition to be thinking about having more children and likely in no mental condition to be making decisions about such life-changing, irreversible procedures as complete hysterectomy, but I opted for the hysterectomy.

I do not miss my monthly visitor.  I have not had any serious side effects except for hot flashes and a freakish intolerance to estrogen supplements.  The hot flashes were irritating but they subsided after a couple of years.  The intolerance to estrogen supplements manifested as wild mood swings and irrational behaviour.  Quickly I decided that I would rather hot flash than mood swing so I went off the estrogen.  Life has been pretty much as close to normal as I am able to understand. 

Why am I detailing my gynecological history here?  Well, aside from the obvious audience appeal, I have always been a little mystified by the fact that I occasionally experience symptoms that are of the premenstrual variety.  I distinctly remember having little bouts of weepiness a couple of days prior to my period.  Things would happen or not happen or a schmaltzy commercial would come on the television and I would find myself welling up.  I would brush aside the tears and wipe my nose surreptitiously and hope that I would not have to explain why I was crying.  There was no good explanation.  It was too complicated to put into words.  The very act of trying to define the source of the tears was likely to lead to more tears.  Then I would be unable to extricate myself from the cycle of crying over nothing and crying over my inability to explain the crying. 

Crazy.

This weekend I found myself in the middle of one of these "emotionally sensitive" periods.  It was exhausting.

Things that made me cry this weekend:

1. Childrens graves at the graveyards.  I know that it is horrific to think of children dying and only a complete ass would not think that children dying is a sad thing but these were kids that died hundreds of years ago.  I think the statute of limitations is up on the grieving.

2. The malfunction of a piece of camera equipment that I borrowed from the school. 

3. Driving through the woods at the Arboretum.  The changing leaves reminded me of New Hampshire and I was homesick.  Never mind that I left New Hampshire more than twenty years ago.

4. Making stuffing for the roast chicken.  The smell of sage and onions and celery cooking made me think about holidays when I was young.  Nevermind that our holidays were tense and usually involved a huge argument between my parents.  Nevermind that our holidays were not storybook occasions.  Nevermind that I can not be around my mother without wanting to kill her. 

5. The 60 Minutes segment about the blind and mentally handicapped children who are musical prodigies.

6. The 60 Minutes segment about the Korean War deserter.  When they showed him reuniting with his mother.

7. Cold Case.  Children, mental hospitals, death.

8. Law & Order: Criminal Intent.  Remorse and nuns and death.

Soon I will be crying over anything anyone says or has said or does or has done or thought about doing. Ever.

posted by: loosestring at 11:18 | link | comments (2) |

Once upon a weekend dreary....

This was a busy weekend and it has been a busy time in general. I am pulling out of my autumnal funk because the trees are turning colors and the Halloween vibe is in the air and there are pumpkins and I do like to wear tights and warm socks and nice cozy sweaters.  Plus the cool weather calls for comfort cooking.  Soups and stews and lovely roast chicken with stuffing and mashed potatoes and glazed carrots.  Yum.

Yesterday I went on a Chicagoland graveyard tour.  It was timely in that it coincided with the project that I am working on for my photography class.  I am going with a bit of a seasonal theme.  I collect Day of the Dead paintings and figures and objects.  I was doing a studio lighting project that called for us to bring in objects to photograph in an arranged setting.  I decided to pick up some of my junk because it was close at hand.  I liked the picture and decided that this series would be about death and graveyards.

There are a lot of interesting graveyards in Chicago.  We mostly focused on ones that had reports of ghostly activity.  Interesting stories and very interesting graveyards.  There are some infamous people buried around here.  We went to Al Capone's gravesite.  I took a lot of photos and I will be off to the lab tomorrow to breathe in the fumes of developer for the better part of the evening. 

This was the first photo:



A little spooky but I like the way it came out.  Yesterday was sort of gray and overcast so I am hopeful that this will give the lovely gloomy cast to my pictures that I am looking for. 

I did a couple of polaroids of somthings I have been experimenting with and I am quite happy with them.  They are, of course, flowers:





Today was raining and dreary and so I headed out to get some photos of the Fall colors.  The weather cooperated intermittently and I did get some photos that I will post tomorrow.

I will do a lot of things tomorrow.

posted by: loosestring at 23:31 | link | comments (1) |

I have been sick with the plague and a combination of severe, sleep-inhibiting back pain and the sleeping sickness.  This is why I have not posted.  I have been trying to conserve my limited energy resources for things like school and work.  I hate being sick.  Not just like regular dislike the discomfort of the cold.  I hate being sick and not getting anything done.  Last night I collapsed on my couch and watched television all night whilst my minions brought me offerings to comfort me.  It was really all I was capable of doing.  I do not think that I would be good at having a debilitating disease because it pisses me off to no end not to be able to get things done.

In other news, I received the following little notice in the email.  I won a contest.  For photography. From this seed company that I bought seeds from this year. They sent out a newsletter asking for submissions in August.  Without giving it too much thought I pulled up a photo off the computer and they just announced that they chose it as the winner.  My suspicion is that they only had three other submissions but I will take what I can get.  Damn it!  I'm a winner!  And also a bit of a whiner.

Announcing Our Second Annual Photo Contest Winner

Congratulations to Elizabeth Hooper of Glen Ellyn, IL for this beautiful photo. For the past two years, Elizabeth has been planning and planting gardens at her new home with hundreds of plants and bushes. She is a particular fan of zinnias, and sowed our seeds directly into her beds in April.

"By June I had some lovely plants that bloomed all summer long. The bonus was that the butterflies loved them and in August my garden was filled with Monarchs and Swallowtails. They seemed particularly fond of Blue Point Bouquet Zinnias. It was a gorgeous addition to the color and the blooms in my garden."

Elizabeth plans to use her prize of a $50 Renee's Garden gift certificate to grow more zinnias in her terraced garden beds. We offer 10 fine zinnia varieties. Click here to view the complete list.

posted by: loosestring at 10:59 | link | comments |

"...and the Great Pumpkin will rise up out of his pumpkin patch with his bag of toys for all the good children!"

Tonight was our annual Pumpkin Carving Feast.  I prepared bruschetta, crab wontons, stuffed mushrooms, guacamole and fresh, chilled shrimp.  My son's friend brought home made cookies and brownies.  There were 5 pumpkins carved and a good time was had by all.  We had one person who had never carved a pumpkin before.  It was quite an evening.  We do not need a lot to qualify as "quite an evening".

Pictures:


This is the virgin pumpkin.  Pretty darned good.


This is my son's pumpkin.  He is an artist.  His medium: vegetables.


This is T's pumpkin.  He uses the template but he stays in the lines really well.


This is my pumpkin.  I am a traditionalist.


These are the pumpkins on the porch.  Quite a nice display.  Good variety.


This is the Mr. Spock pumpkin.  It is not easy to see until you light it up and then it is a winner.


More lighted pumpkins.


More.


And still more.

I love Halloween.  It is one of those holidays for which you can do as much or as little as you choose.  That is what holidays should all be like.

posted by: loosestring at 22:45 | link | comments (2) |

Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God

You must forgive me.  I am going to get all "Vonnegut" on you again.  I have only the thinnest veneer of sincerity in that apology because I think we could all do with a bit more of the Vonnegut wisdom and compassion and intelligence and humor.  It makes my world a bit more bearable to read his words and know that there is still a strong vein of humanity and understanding that exists in this world.  It is heartening to know that other people must want to hear what he has to say or they would not be buying his new book.

I have just finished the new book "A Man Without A Country". I am very emotional.  This slim volume filled with wit and wisdom has made me most happy. 

I am the product of an early exposure to Kurt Vonnegut.  I started to read his books before they were assigned in High School.  I picked up "Breakfast of Champions" at about the age of thirteen.  I mostly picked it up because it had some naughty words and pictures and it seemed to be the kind of thing I should not have been reading.  Much to my surprise, it was just the thing I needed to read.  The concept of secular humanism defined for me the vague concept of the way the world should work I had been working through at that time.  It was very important to be the best human being you could be, to be kind, to make a contribution to society, to make the world a little better through acts of kindness and caring.  That made sense to me.  Not the fear of divine retribution or purgatory as a deterrent to being evil. Or a free ticket to heaven as an incentive to do good.

As I have grown older, very little has changed in my thinking with regard to this.  I have grown a little more cautious of being taken advantage of.   I have become a bit more aware that not every one else is operating from this same play book.  I have become disheartened by the way the world continues to become colder and more distant and closed.  I have become disheartened in observing the increasing number of people who are just out to get something for themselves with no regard for the needs of others.  But, by and large, I still believe that my job here is to be the best person I can be and to attempt to make my little part of the world a little more friendly and hospitable and humane.

It is good to read the words of this man who, at the age of 83 still believes this is the way to live your life.  He has seen more evil and more change and more of this life than I have, than most of us have.  And yet, there is the sparkle of humor and the belief that we are meant to be more than we are.  I hope that, should I reach the age of 83, I will be able to hold on to the hope and humor and laughter. 

So, Kurt Vonnegut is still my hero, my mentor, my surrogate grandfather, the person I would like to grow up to be.

A few quotes from the book:

All I really wanted to do was give people the relief of laughing.  Humor can be a relief, like an aspirin tablet. If a hundred years from now people are still laughing, I’d certainly be pleased.

Humor is a way of holding off how awful life can be, to protect yourself.

Doesn’t anything Socialistic make you want to throw up? Like great public schools or health insurance for all?

I urge you to please notice  when you are happy , and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”

If I should die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph:

The only proof he needed

For the existence of God

Was music

posted by: loosestring at 13:00 | link | comments |

Taking chances with no intent to make a killing

I am a very fortunate person.  I spend far too much time here and in my life focused on the negative.  It is my nature to give more weight and significance and to expend more of my mental energy on the bad things.  I try.  I hate the bitter and unhappy people.  We all have them in our lives or we work with one or we have the misfortune to have to deal with one in some capacity.  I am so disheartened and depressed by the anger and the bad feelings and the complaints.  I do not ever want to wake up and find that I have become one of these people.

Several years ago my life was in a very chaotic and disturbed place. The bad things and the bad times were all of my own making.  I had made a series of destructive choices that brought me to the inevitable unhappy place that was my life at that time.  I was fortunate in the way that most of us are in that I still had a couple more chances to change.  To make some positive and constructive choices that would take me back to the good, happy life that I was destined to live.

It was a time of discovery for me.  A period of my life during which I made a lot of peace with the past and found out a lot about what I needed to do to make myself whole again.  I learned about the need I have to be creating.  I learned to let go of the self-defeating doubts.  I figured out what I was going to need to do to live the life I wanted to live.

During this period as during most of my life there was an important soundtrack.  The album in highest rotation was "Trace" by Son Volt.  It remains one of my favorite albums because no matter what is going badly in my life today when I hear these familiar songs I remember just how bad it can be and I remember how lucky I am.   The words are probably not unique or the sentiments especially novel but the simplicity of the message and the brutal honesty of those words were something that I needed at that time.  Things like "too much living is no way to die" and "the saints don't bother with the tear stained eye".  These things helped.  These things kept me moving forward and moving past and moving on.  In fact, for anyone who does not know, the title of this little blog was taken from a song on that album.

Sadly, Son Volt disbanded before I go to see them live.  I did have the good fortune to see Jay Farrar play solo on a couple of occasions and he would perform a couple of Son Volt songs here and there.  But this year saw the newly re-formed Son Volt with new members backing up Jay Farrar.  I was thrilled and anxiously awaited the new album and a tour.  Before long we found out that they would indeed be playing here in Chicago. 

Last night was the night.  I am still a bit giddy and my head is whirling and I am a very happy girl.  They played a long show with a lot of new stuff and all of the old stuff.  The crowd was singing along with all of my favorites and it was magical.  Just when I thought it could not get any better, it did. 

We were checking out the merchandise on the way out.  I had not bought a copy of the new CD because I downloaded it from ITunes.  However, there was an awesome lithograph poster that I wanted.  When I asked about it I was told that you could not buy the poster but if you bought the CD you got the poster.  So, okay, that's a deal.  The CD has a DVD "making of" and I like liner notes and all of that stuff.  Then the merchandise guy says, "Oh, and you get to meet the band."  I thought he was joking but he was not.  Anyone who bought the CD got to go talk to the band and get the poster and CD signed. 

Needless to say, we met the band.  We ended up being the first in line and it went by really fast.  Way too fast.  Plus, it just did not seem like the appropriate moment to express how life-changing the music was for me.  I was also so awkwardly awestruck that all I could do was repeat, "The show was amazing.  Thank you."  And I forgot that I had a camera in my hand.

But, here is a picture of the awesome poster for which I have already designated wall space:



And a couple of shots from the show:










I am going to try to hold on to the good feelings for a couple of days at  least.

posted by: loosestring at 23:55 | link | comments (4) |

Theosophical musings

While I was retrieving the pictures from the concert from my cell phone I discovered this picture:

Again, a high-quality photo taken with my cell phone.  In case you cannot tell, this is a photo of my dashboard with my little Buddha.  I have had this Buddha in my car for several years now.  It is my silent protest/nod/whatever to the dashboard Virgin Mary.  It makes me happy in my own little pagan way.  I took this picture because I had a little story about the Buddha and my discovery of the source of some of my spiritual discomfort.  It is not an exciting story.  Or even one, most likely, deserving of entire entry all it's own.  But, for what it's worth:

I was on my way to work one morning this Summer and consuming my morning PopTart while driving and changing radio stations and making phone calls and balancing my checkbook and the 12000 other things I do during my 6 mile drive to work each day when I was overcome with the urge to sneeze.  I had a mouthful of the aforementioned PopTart and perhaps a swig of Diet Pepsi and I knew it would not be pretty to just let fly.  I attempted to swallow quickly and save myself the inevitable mess but, alas, the sneeze was just too urgent.  I let go a sneeze and blew bits of chewed PopTart and Diet Pepsi all over my steering wheel.  Thankfully I had a stack of fast food napkins with which to clean the mess. 

About a month later I was driving along and I glanced down to check the gas gauge, whereupon I noticed that my little guardian Buddha had a bit of schmutz on his belly.  Curious, I picked him up and discovered that it was a little bit of dried PopTart sneeze residue.  I wiped him off post haste.

Then I began to contemplate the implications.  I know that there are food and drink offerings left at Buddhist altars.  Generally I believe the idea is to leave the choicest morsel of food as a gift to the Buddha.  I am fearful that my sneezy PopTart morsel may have been misconstrued as a very disrespectful offering.  This may account for the general discontent and restlessness of the last couple of weeks.  Perhaps this Buddha is really mad at me an is trying to show me the error of my ways.

Or maybe it's only the Christian God that lacks a sense of humor.

posted by: loosestring at 14:41 | link | comments (2) |

Tell the repo man and the stars above

As I mentioned, I had tickets to see David Gray last night.  I ended up taking my son to the show because T decided that he is not such a big fan.  I, however, enjoyed the show quite a lot.  I know that David Gray is not the hippest thing around but if you like semi-ethereal, angsty music, I recommend it.

I have some truly awful pictures that I took with my cell phone:

Yes, I know, you will just have to take my word that this is David Gray and not just some other random Welshman who took the stage to play fabulous music.

If it helps, David Gray looks like this:

The show was great fun and my son claimed to have enjoyed it enough that he wanted a t-shirt.  His review to T was: "It was really good and I liked it a lot except for the old people in front of us that kept making our hardcore."  I must confirm that the older couple in front of us was indeed "making out hardcore" for most of the show.  That is whenever the gentleman was not replenishing their drinks from the bar.  Ah, drunken, horny old people.  It does the heart good to see them get sloppy and grope and grind.

posted by: loosestring at 11:23 | link | comments (3) |

We are the people your mother warned you about

One quick addition to the tale of my weekend.

I was running around on Sunday, what with the herbs and the freezing and the pesto making when the door rang. I figured it was just the kid who had not yet arrived for the study group but I went to the door anyway.  It was a middle-aged, very proper looking woman with a clip board.  Most definitely not the kid.  I was corralling the puppies away from the door and saying hello when she began, " Hello, I am with the Dupage County Republican Committee....."   That was the extent of what she got out before I spoke without thinking, "Oh, I don't think so, not a chance."  (Spoken in the most sarcastic manner possible.)  She looked very perplexed and looked back at her clipboard as though there was an answer to be found there.  I smiled and tried to say as politely as possible, "We are registered Democrats."  The look of horror was not unlike what I might have expected had I announced that we were registered sex offenders."  Priceless.  She scurried back down the walk making frantic notations on her clipboard.

We have been outed.  I thought the Kerry signs last Fall would have been a clue but apparently the petition to have the heathen Democrats ousted from the neighborhood did not get to her. 

posted by: loosestring at 16:01 | link | comments (2) |

Only things worth living for are innocence and magic, amen

I had a three day weekend.  For some unknown reason we had the day off for Columbus Day.  I am not complaining or looking too far into the reasoning because I always appreciate a three day weekend.  Lord knows I need the rest.  So, one would assume that I had been lounging around watching Tivo and eating bonbons all three days of my weekend and therefore too busy to post.  One would be wrong.

When confronted with the expanse of three whole days of rest and relaxation, my mind begins to fantasize.  Thoughts of pedicures and long, bubbly baths and quiet dinners and silence - oh the blissful silence - swirl round and round.  Pretty, shiny, happy thoughts.  Then my crazy manic, must get something done voice kicks in and I begin to assign myself projects.

This weekend I:

1. Learned to shoot pictures with the large format camera.  Borrowed one of the cameras from school and transported the 50 lbs of gear to my home for the weekend.  Set up a small studio in my basement where I shot approximately 20 pictures. Realized that I had made a grievous error in my calculations for the setting for the 20 pictures.  Recalculated everything and shot 10 more pictures.

2. Spent four hours on Saturday at school in the darkroom processing and printing film from Friday night.

3. Harvested all of the jalapeno and anaheim peppers from my garden and froze them for use over the winter.

4. Harvested all of the oregano, sage, thyme and rosemary from my garden and dried them for use over the winter.

5. Harvested the basil from the garden and made a large batch of pesto.

6. Made a large batch of spaghetti sauce for dinner and for freezing.

7. Made snacks for the group of my son's friends that came for a study group.

8. Sent T to the store and called him with multiple additions to the shopping list.

9. Took Maggie and Ernie for their first walk since Maggie had her shoulder procedure.  They were bouncing off the walls and very ready for a walk.

10. Spent the entire day Monday in the darkroom at school processing and printing the film that I shot over the weekend.

So, you know, just another relaxing weekend.  I am so very excited to be back at work where I get a chance to take a break.

Actually the big push to complete my photo project this weekend was due to the fact that I have tickets for a concert on Wednesday to see David Gray.  I am actually looking forward to that very much.  We will have our very posh seats in the first couple of rows and I will be blissful and content listening to songs about despair and loss and addiction and heartache.

posted by: loosestring at 10:35 | link | comments (3) |

The Dalai Lama gets served

In my continuing quest for inner peace and finding my place in the cosmic cycle of the world, I have begun a daily exercise in trying to find something positive about the things I dislike.  To this end I have been struggling to come up with something I like about the cold weather.  We had a lovely, sweltering weekend of weather in the 80's and then it dropped down to the 60's yesterday.  I hate having to remember a jacket.  I hate wearing socks and shoes that cover my feet.  I hate shivering in the car while I wait for it to warm up.  I do not like the cold.  But last night, after I made the frigid dash to my car, I thought to myself, "You know, the McDonald's bag with the half-eaten burger and fries that I left in the car does not smell up the entire car when it is cold the way it does when it is hot." 

Half full all the way, chickens!

posted by: loosestring at 10:14 | link | comments (1) |

Things that make me happy

The highlight of my morning commute has become the house with the giant inflatable Halloween decoration in the yard.  I am not generally a fan of the giant inflatable yard decoration - holiday or otherwise - but this particular one is quite delightful:

Obviously, this is not a picture of the actual inflatable that I drive by, but you get the idea.  Also, the fact that this has been there for the past couple of mornings makes up for the giant inflatable Homer Santa that disappeared immediately after I saw it a couple of years ago.  

posted by: loosestring at 09:16 | link | comments (2) |

I hid my yo-yo in the garden

Day number one of Beth's New and Improved Zen Outlook^TM was not a smashing success. 

I did manage to let almost everything roll off my back including a conversation with a certain person who tends to make me crazy and angry.  (What was I thinking when I got involved with that one?)  I make an effort to be courteous and non-confrontational but the utter lack of a clue that this person has is a prime source of irritation to me.  But how else would you be able to measure the success of your new Zen outlook if you were not confronted with tests and obstacles?  Much like a Biblical figure, I make my way daily through the world and try to do my best with the tests that are sent my way.

I navigated my way around the angry and unproductive responses during the conversation and proceeded on my way to my classes.  I managed to get caught up in my Graphic Arts class.  I missed a class and had fallen a bit behind but I applied myself and pulled it out in the end.  Yay me!  I am calm and thoroughly professional as I teach myself Quark and Adobe Illustrator.  I design a color newspaper advertisement that is laid out quite well and eye-catching.  I am beginning to understand the Mac computers and that is the main hurdle I face.  I manage to only attempt to right-click 15 times this class period and declare a success.

Proceeding to Photography, where I will be taking a mid-term exam, I am the picture of prepared and calm.  I sit down at a desk in the quiet classroom before everyone arrives and review my notes.  I am going to do well on this test.  I am sure of the subject.  I know exactly what will be covered.  I am ready.  Sure enough, the test goes smoothly.  Things are boding well for a completely incident-free day.

After class we have some free time to use in the darkroom if we wish.  I do wish.  I have a project to get done and there is a whole hour and a half of time.  I begin to print some pictures using old negatives and a new printing technique.  Unfortunately, I have chosen some very difficult negativea to print.  Things do not go as smoothly or as quickly as I would hope.  Despite the fact that I spend the entire hour and a half trying to produce one acceptable print, I remain calm.  Slightly discouraged, but calm.  I will have to return to the dark room on Thursday to complete the work.  But at least I have one good print.  One down and two to go.

I put the prints into the wash and clean up my area.  I gather up all of my things and I am ready to go.  Only one thing left:  the prints need to come out of the wash and go through the print dryer.  I pull the prints and feed them into the dryer.  Just as I finish feeding the last print, someone calls me away with a question.  Not a problem, the dryer works itself and I can step away with no worry. 

This is the point at which the the scratchy violin and cello music begins to play.  Unheeded by our heroine.

I step away for 3 minutes and when I come back to retrieve my prints the lab tech is disassembling the dryer to retrieve some prints that have gotten jammed.  I have a split second during which I believe that the ripped bits of paper that are being pulled out of the dryer are not mine.  Just one split second of hope.  Then I see that the sodden lump of ripped paper is indeed the print I have slaved over for the last hour and a half.  It has gotten jammed because someone who should know better ran a print through that was too small.  The too small print wrapped up the rollers and caused my prints to jam and tear and become useless.

I did what anyone would do.  I did the only logical thing.  I burst into wet sloppy tears.  In front of four very astonished men who do not know me.  I let all of the frustration out and I may have even uttered a curse word or two or three.  I felt much better when I was done.

I have decided that there is room for irrational, frustrated sob fests in Beth's New and Improved Zen Oulook.^TM A lot of room.

posted by: loosestring at 13:22 | link | comments (1) |

Everybody's talking at me

I received an email yesterday from a customer of ours.  The woman who sent it is a bit of a scatterbrain but I have slowly trained her to remember our conversations.  This has been a long and fun-filled process but I felt it was worth the effort in order to preserve my sanity. 

The email was an inquiry about a "past due" part. I politely replied that there were not actually any "past due" parts.  There were a huge number of parts that had been moved up on the schedule to reflect delivery dates that were not within our production lead times.  Then I mentioned that the huge number of parts that had been moved up were excessive and made it nearly impossible for us to meet any of the incidental "rush orders".  She replied that she was only able to see 10 of this part on order and she did not have any idea what I was talking about. 

After I banged my head on my desk for about a minute, I responded to this in a concise manner using short declarative sentences and no words of more than two syllables.  I then provided for her reference a list detailing all of the different parts that had been moved up on the schedule.  I provided her with a delivery date for each of the parts.  She responded with a courteous email expressing her agreement with me that the schedule was indeed quite screwy.  Then she told me that she would make inquiries into the matter and thanked me for providing her with the information.

Today I received and email from this same woman.  The reference line indicated that it was an inquiry about the same part we had exchanged several emails about yesterday.  Upon opening it I discovered that she was indeed inquiring about the same "past due" part.  Trying to keep the sarcasm out of my typing, I responded that we did not have any past due part just parts that had been moved up, as per our conversation of the previous day.  She quickly responded with a polite email apologizing for the double inquiry.  I wrote her a quick note back saying, "Not a problem.  Have a nice day."

Just now, when I opened my email server to download the latest batch, I could not help but notice that there was yet another email from this same woman asking about the same part.  I was a little flustered.  At first I though it was a joke.  Kind of making fun of herself.  But she is fairly humorless and we do not know each other that well.  I opened it and sure enough it was a serious inquiry.

Once again, I banged my head on the desk for a minute.  I started to compose a snippy reply.  I started to cut and paste all of the previous communications.  I started to formulate the perfectly professional-sounding rehash of the whole stupid situation.

Then I hit delete and typed in, "Those parts will be shipped on October 14th."

This Zen thing rocks.

posted by: loosestring at 14:12 | link | comments |

Autumn's sweet we call it fall, I'll make it to the moon if I have to crawl

I have this vague idea in my head of what "Zen" calm should look like.  To be properly considered "Zen" calm I should have a slightly enigmatic smile on my face at all times.   I should exude an air of peaceful serenity and bliss.   I should never become flustered by anything that happens no matter what.  I should remain calm in the face of calamity, emergency, natrual disaster or rude and incompetent  sales people.  I should float approximately 1/2" off the ground at all times due to the lightness of my mind and spirit.

The more I consider this I must conclude that my "Zen" calm sounds a bit like an acid trip.  Is it possible to achieve that level of unflappability and utter flat line calm without the aid of chemicals?  Hmmm.  I think it is not in my makeup.

The truth is that my "Zen" calm seems a bit more like a really fast roller coaster ride.  Things move by so quickly and my mind is so occupied with trying not to vomit or scream that I do not have time to worry about anything except the very most immediate situation.  When I reach the top of a peak, I have a moment to look around and consider what Is happening or question why I got on the ride but only a fraction of a second and then I am plummeting and the time for questions is going to have to wait. 

Then there are moments of sun on my face and wind in my hair and the thrill of the ride.

posted by: loosestring at 08:26 | link | comments |

Must see....

I have to admit that my television has been holding me hostage.  I have been unable to make it to the computer to share my world with the Internet because the Internet can probably watch my world on Tivo just the same way I do.

For many years I worked in the restaurant and bar industry and I never watched anything with any consistency because I was never home.  I know most shows from that period of time from the syndication.  In the event that something was not syndicated, I don't know about it.  The last show I recall watching with dedicated consistency was "Northern Exposure".  That kind of dates me but that was how long ago I was truly addicted to the sweet  mindless pablum of television.  Now, what with Tivo and the comfy couch and the evenings free: I am hooked. 

This being the premiere of all of the shows ahs been especially taxing.  For my ass. 

This is the sad and rather pathetic reason for the infrequent updates and the sketchy details of late.  My name is Beth and I am a television addict.

Actually, being back at school has been challenging and the nights I have off, I am deserving of a night of mindless entertainment. 

Spoken like a true addict.

posted by: loosestring at 22:21 | link | comments (3) |

Two of my favorite things

Two very nice things happened this Saturday.

First, the mailman brought me a lovely package from my Secret Pal who may be the very best Secret Pal ever.  I have a really bad picture of the loot here:



I took this with the last exposure on a disposable camera.  Just goes to show how good those things are.  I got some lovely mohair yarn in orange and black , a cd with halloween patterns, a cute sheep measuring tape, a scrumptious chocolate crone and an issue of Aperture magazine.  This really made my day.  I don't think I had put much thought into the idea that I would be receiving gifts when I signed up for this thing.  It's strange because I love to get gifts but I was really focussed on giving gifts.  Needless to say, I am eagerly awaiting my next package.  This is cool.

The second really nice thing on Saturday was this:



My son with his lovely girlfriend, of whom I approve most highly, went to Homecoming.  Don't they look gorgeous?

posted by: loosestring at 20:31 | link | comments (11) |