Monday, April 18, 2011

It was the Worst of Times, it was the Best of Times....

"WRONG";  definition - bad; wonky; BIG mistake; erroneous; boo-boo; uh-oh; aw sh**; bigsigh.  And periodically you hear tell of something...something - that embodies all of those definitions, a tangible, physical, really-o truly-o thing that is the "wrong-ness".  This thing is not something I ever would have thought of, conceived of, no matter how hard I tried.  No, this thing was mentioned to me blithely on the telephone by my Lovely Daughter.  We were talking about programs on teevee;  we share an enjoyment of food shows, cooking shows.  We share a real taste (no pun intended...snerk) for the whole eating thing  So what was this mentioned item?

DISCLAIMER:  if you're not sitting down, do so -- if you have a dicey ticker, if you're prone to the vapours, go look at the pictures on Cute Overload for a few minutes....  Here goes:

Bacon-Wrapped MATZOH BALLS.

I am allowing you a few minutes to roll that around amongst your marbles.  See what I mean?  "That's just WRONG".  And you know, some things that appear wrong actually, surprisingly, wind up being quite nice.  THIS?    uh-huhn.  It ain't happenin'.

That's the worst...."evar".  Other bad stuff?  A new "reality" show about a woman who makes a hefty living as some sort of maternity counselor.  Rents herself out to pregnant, hugely-wealthy New York pregnant mothers.  One woman hired her to assemble a group of "talents"? to select a name for her baby.   The trailer showed a woman who was lining up the hair and makeup staff for when she comes out of Delivery.  SAY WOT????

That's enough of the negative.  Now for the  BEST!  The Decorah Eagle.  NOTE:  my link thingies might not be working.  If they aren't, PUNT.  You won't be sorry. 

Prepare for rant. 

This whole innerwebs thingie, the 'Net, sometimes simply called "on line".  As an entity it strikes me as the perfect "Little Girl with the Little Curl", quoted to me so often in my early childhood.  For those of you who are either   a) well-behaved little girls;  or) boys, naughty or nice, I repeat the wholeof the verse here.  Imagine it in a sort of sing-song-y voice:

"Once there was a little girl / who had a little curl / right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good she was very, very good - and she was bad, she was horrid!"  I am edified to know that I was NEVER just naughty or cross as a wee girlie - I was HORRID!

Back to the internet at hand.   We all know about the Potential Evils of the Internet;  frankly, I'm just as glad that my children grew up and moved out BEFORE the Day of the Insidious Pervasive SCREEN.  On the other hand, I believe (as I may have said before) that I think World Peace can be achieved through the Internet.  Sample conversation in home somewhere in world, April 18, 2020: 

Husband:  "pack my Fierce Weaponry, Wife, I'm going off to war.
Wife:  "where?"
Husband:  "why?"
Wife:  ""do you always answer questions with another question?"
Husband:  "do I?"

{period of quiet follows as each Ponders}

Husband:  "we're fighting with the country of EastNorth Wherewickton.  South."
Wife:  NO YOU ARE NOT!!  (she turns away from her laptop and points both eyes and a grim mouth in his direction.)  He sags a little (going off to war has been popular for some centuries.  Eons, even.)

Wife continues:  "As a matter of fact, Mr. Smartypants Warrior, I am FB friends with 300 women in EastNorth Wherewickton, South AND North.  We all chat every day,  we are trading Nifty Hints about Child-Rearing and there's an active game of "Does your husband ever........??"   Furthermore, we just started a Recipe Exchange, and if you think I'm going to let you and the guys go attacking and breaking the recipe chain YOU HAVE ANOTHER THINK COMING, MISTER!"

See?  End of war.  It's in the future.  In the meantime, however, there are other opportunities which are now commonplace, but which (another of my pet sayings) wasn't even in science fiction books when I was a girl.  Limitless free knitting patterns.  INSTANT information on almost anything that might pique the curiosity.  Pictures and films from everywhere, of everything -- including the aforementoned  Iowa Eagle cam .  Me?  I relish the opportunity to sit at the edge of the nest and watch at all hours of the day and night.    I've watched for a part of every day since first seeing the eagles on my evening news show.

So on the one hand, somewhere in this world there are bacon-wrapped matzoh balls {pfeh! ptooey!} and elsewhere in the world is the ability to sit 80 feet up in an eyrie and watch the unimposing eaglets as they grow into birds like their parents.  Not something one has access to every day.

I am pleased to observe that I seem to be crawling out from the Blarg - although I do find I have to sort of build back up.  So far so good, the medication is controlling the tremors.  I'm scheduled to seee the neurologist again next week (I'm thinking I should keep scheduing regular appointments on the off-chance I may someday need a neorologist again -- she's something like the Great and Wonderful Oz).

So hopefully I will soon be completely returned to knitting and bloggng and working --  and I have some very exciting plans coming up that are pretty assured of being a Genuine Experience!

So - I'm going to watch the end of my teevee show with the madman who calls himself "an extreme fisherman" to see if he's going to have his legs ripped off by a gargantuan fish with two-foot teeth and a cranky disposition.  All's I can say is, "better him than me."

Monday, April 4, 2011

Things I've Learned....

...from watching teevee for roughly twelve hours a day, for roughly four months.

1.  That much teevee is against the Geneva Convention.  For something intended to be "entertainment", I suggest something like thumbscrews.  Brenks' Bridle.  THE RACK!!

2.  The New York SPCA officers have full police capabilities.  Which means that they can go to rescue a dog and arrest the wretched MFers who mistreated the dog.

3.  Houston has a lot of fighting cocks (eeeewww, they clip their crops and spurs to put razor-sharp long spurs on);  they also have a problem with pit bull dog fights.  BOTH are totally illegal - the Texas animal cops don't have police powers but they DO have a very intimate (so to speak) relationship with the local constabulary.  I have a streak that takes delicious satisfaction in watching the arrests of the MFers -- they're usually arrested right after the Civil Court hearing where their animals are legally transferred to the SPCA.  (I also like it when the MFers come to court to get their animals back, I mean THAT's cheeky!  "Yes, your honor, I was starving him because I only have a pony saddle and I wanted to ride him...."  OOOOHyeah.

4.  There are a LOT of starving horses in the Houston area - also goats, pigs, various fowl, miniature horses and an unending supply of dogs and cats.

5.  Animal HOARDING is a real problem everywhere, apparently  - and I've concluded that...
I AM AN ANIMAL HOARDER!  Well, ok, so I only have two cats.  But you know, I'm sort of a Theoretical Animal Hoarder.  (The truth is, as Mr. Dearling pointed out, if I bought ANYTHING in here -- kitty, puppy, boa constrictor --  Mistress Evangeline would dine upon them.  Her tolerance of Lilliane, all these years later, has remained terse.)  ...which reminds me, I have to go open the bedroom door...Lilli was put there in time-out for attacking Evi....seems she learning BAD behavior!

NOTE:  I AM aware that all the animal cop shows are showing the bad stuff...lovely healthy animals wouldn't make very good teevee.  I know the people in Houston are not meaner to their animals than anywhere else.  Probably.

Let's see - I have diagnosed myself with everything for which there are advertised medications available.  I quit wrriting them down to "ask my doctor for" after about 40.  Not only is there medication for depression - there are adjunct pills in case the ones you're using aren't enough.  WTH???    Of course, everything advertised causes moggles and rooblets and extra hair and hair loss and thoughts of suicide and murderous wrath and an incomprehensible desire to eat human brains.  No, wait - that's zombies, only four or nine medications list that one.

I've also been watching stuff like "First 48" in which real genuine scofflaws are apprehended for a huge variety of crimes, almost 99% of which are drug-related murders.  The idea is, the first three days after a Dreadful Crime is the best time to wrap it up.  Sometimes it takes more than a couple months, but that's ok, the nefarious and unruly are ultimately caught.

Then there's "House", which is an amazing fantasy - people come in to the hospital and Dr. House and his team perform elebenty-six tests, many of which are invasive or unpleasant, but eventually the diagnosis is made, the patient healed and all's right with the world.  Of course this all takes days and days -- and do they EV ER use the "i" word?  (Yes, "insurance") -- I think my favorite was the one where a beautiful mulatto girl was brought in with dreadful symptoms by her handsome white husband.  They were TRULY in love, a match made in heaven, only it turned out the match WAS made in heaven -- for some reason a DNA test was run (I think the husband was prepared to donate ALL his organs to save his cherished wife).  AND GUESS WOT???  Yup, they were half-siblings.  Seems White Papa had been "helping out in the garden" of his Black Neighbor.  OY VEY!!

OK, enough of the crappy news and on to something better:  namely ME, I'm better.  and tomorrow will be a red-letter day.  I get to vote (and I'd get three different disguises and vote again if I could) AND...readly for this?  My Neurology appointment (made in February) is tomorrow!!!  So far, the first muscle relaxer I got helps enough but I'm hoping for something that works a little better.  But (speaking with crossed fingers) I am gradually climbing out of the Abyss of No Knitting, No Writing &c &c and so forth.

By the way, to any and all who commented, THANK YOU!  I could say "I was so warmed...." or something.  The truth?  OK, I had a decent Ugly Cry over it all.   There isn't a cure or treatment equal to that.  Consider youselves hugged by a 4'11" woman with a case of hiccup-y cryin'.