Drive-By Thinking.

i resolve…

… to do better in updating this here corner of the innerwebz. I hadn't truly thought that it had been as long as it has since I'd last posted. Sorry about that. So how about some updates?

• I hadn't knit jack-all in the better part of six months. The mojo hath deserted me. However, I'd made a pledge to turn the fine skein of wool sent to me by my mother-in-law into something useful, and so I did. Behold the Haruni shawl:

Pattern crafted by Emily Ross. Mine is knit from a single skein of Cherryfield Farm Natural Romney Wool. (Of which I still have a fair-sized ball left.) Mother-in-law was thrilled with the gift and the sentiment, since it had been a rather trying year for her. I'm glad I could help.

Next up…

• I have noticed that when someone attempts to re-enter your life, it is more often an indication of why they had been pushed to the background in the first place than an affirmation of their place in your future.

Those of you who follow me on the big blue Eff site might just recognize this statement. Now that I've had the better part of a month to stew contemplate the whys and wherefores behind it, I'll explain it.

I received a comment to the previous posting that I have yet to make public. (And I likely won't, as the writer gave far too much personal information in it for me to feel comfortable doing so.) What it boiled down to was a "wow, I can't believe I found you after so long/when did you become so bitter/how can I persuade you of your inherent wrongness?" I offer you this quote:

I guess I'm glad I saw this first or talking to you would have broken my heart. You are far too young and too smart to be this angry and this bitter.

She then proceeded to tell me her life story and all her assorted woes, complete with a narrative about how wonderful government was and how much it had given her, and why should I be so against everything she believed in?

To this I indeed offered a reply, citing surprise at having been "lost" in the first place, assuring her that I had no need of her concern nor her censure, and ending with the sentiment that I was sorry she had wasted her time, since I was apparently such a stranger to her.

Really, you live barely twenty miles away and know full how to get in touch, yet you haven't bothered to lift a finger to call or email me once in the last ten years. Now you want me to take your advice? Now you want me to believe you're such a good friend? Now I'm supposed to drop everything I know and believe and say, "Oh my… you're absolutely right and how did I ever get through my day without your wisdom?"

Spare me. And I'll do you the service of a true friend and not uncover your foolishness by putting a public face on it. Then I'll hit "delete."

So we move on.

• HSH is taking her duties as a Junior Girl Scout seriously, and has been working hard on badges. After spending a frigid weekend camping outside (in NOVEMBER, fer cripes sake), she decided to turn her attentions to the Simple Meals badge. She made mac-n-cheese from scratch, turned a simple salad into a meal with the addition of protein (ham and egg) and carbs (croutons), and baked cupcakes for the troop. She tackled a simple dinner (french toast and sausages) and learned something a little more complex: fresh bread.

It was very good. So good, in fact, that it disappeared before I could get a picture. Kid's got promise. She's also made honor roll. More through threats and persuasion than true desire on her part, but a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.

• We have acquired another living critter in the house.

This is Thomas. He's a fine wee cheetie, and full of piss and vinegar. The shelter said he was a year old. I don't think so. This isn't a kitten – he's too large for that – but he's got some growing to do and is far too speedy and frisky to be a full adult. We figure about 7-8 months old.

We picked him because he was laid back and cuddly, and so he remains. Just about anyone can pick this cat up and pet him. Including the dog.

Which was the other reason we picked him. Freckles needed something to light a fire under her butt, and this was just the ticket. Cat likes dogs. Dog is tolerant of cat. In fact, we're pretty sure that Freckles thinks it's HER cat. They play together, race each other, attack each other, and share just about everything. Except the food bowl. Freckles kind of draws the line on that one. And while they'll cuddle like this occasionally, 

Thomas will just pretty much curl up with anyone. He's particularly fond of Hizzoner. Freckles has learned to share her humans, as well.

So here we are, at the beginning of a new year. 2012 had its ups and downs. I hope for better in 2013, but knowing what's looming over the horizon, I refuse to hold my breath.

Instead, I will tend to this, my own little corner, and not lose too much sleep over that which I can't control. I won't hesitate to point out the absurdities, and I will continue with the "I told you sos" as scheduled, but I think I'll try to add in more of the fun stuff as well. I think we'll all need a little more fun stuff.

So have fun tonight, be safe, PLEASE for the love of God don't drink and drive, and I'll see you next year.

K out.

arbitrary bits and bobs.

Some nonspecific thoughts running through the ol' noggin this week:

• Unsurprisingly, I approve wholeheartedly of the selection of Paul Ryan for veep. I like him for many of the reasons that I liked Herman Cain. Mainly because they both recognize the need for fiscal responsibility and restraint. AND they both have put forward viable plans that accomplish – or certainly have the potential to – real goals.

I also like that Mr. Ryan doesn't speak like a slickster über politician. It doesn't matter whether it's an interview, a hearing, or a town-hall meeting. He's not one of those who spits out focus-group-approved rhetoric designed to appease and cover up.

So that, I suppose, makes him a real threat to the other side. At least, if you're judging by the amount of hysteria out there. One of my Facebook "friends" has even perpetuated the "Ryan's anti-women/birthcontrol/freedom to kill babies" meme. Which I called her out on. I mean, really -- the country's on a steep slide to falling into the shitter and all you're worried about is sex? You really think that that's going to be high on the legislative priority ladder with the mess the next administration's going to have to clean up and repair? Please. Get your priorities straight.

But I don't get it. I mean, why the hysteria? When in history has a vice-president really wielded power? (I'm not counting when they've had to step up into the Number One position.) They're usually picked for balance, or to pull in a certain constituency to vote. Sure, they're supposed to have the POTUS' ear and be the theoretical right-hand man. But do they?

• Of course, if Biden has any real influence up there inside the Beltway, it explains a great deal. Especially the way he runs his mouth.

No wonder people don't want him around. Hey, if I'm ever in Danville, I plan to go get me some cookies. Maybe a cupcake or two. Why? The same reason I ate Chick-Fil-A most of this month.

I support businesses that aren't afraid to take a stand for what they believe in. In this case, freedom to speak; freedom to trade and conduct business in the way they see fit; and … well, truth in general.

Plus, I like cookies. A lot.

• So the Lightbringer's campaign is trying to cut a deal with Romney. Release your tax records and … we won't ask you for anything else. …nudgenudgewinkwinkknowwhatimean…

What the… is this some sort of schoolyard game they think they're playing? A "I'll give you my Nolan Ryan rookie card if you'll give me…" little kids' thing? This is the future of the damn country that is at play here. I realize that for the last four years The Anointed One has been secure in his arrogance, surrounded as he is by toe-sucking sycophants, but what he's playing with is bigger than him -- bigger than any one person in this country, and it's about time he started acting that way. This locker-room bully playing his Chicago politics game and trying to cut deals instead of dealing with the issues does NOT play well outside Illinois, and is starting to piss people off. People who would have otherwise voted for him.

Fortunately, Mr. Romney is willing to address what's truly important:

"I just have to say, given the challenges that America faces – 23 million people out of work, Iran about to become nuclear, one out of six Americans in poverty – the fascination with taxes I've paid I find to be very small-mnded compared to the broad issues that we face."

Mmm mmm mmm.

No, he's still not my first choice. But I'm feeling better about it as time goes by.

• Yes, for those of you who haven't heard, I had to get my first pair of bifocals. Or more properly, progressive lenses. My eyes aren't that bad, but this job has proven to be very hard on them, and I'm not focusing like I used to.

Apparently, the weak prescriptions aren't easy to get right. Since I'm now on my fifth pair (one original and four remakes; two from an online vendor with most excellent customer service and three from a nationwide eyewear retailer), this is the only conclusion I can draw. We'll see if I ever actually get to wear them for more than an afternoon sometime next week.

So my nerves and confidence aren't the only thing to be destroyed since taking this job! Yay me! Three for three!

• Her Serene Highness starts school in two weeks. It can't be soon enough for me. She seems to have the typical tweenie asshat thing going a lot earlier than I expected. Girl Scouts starts back up soon after. I should have about 18 girls this year. Shoot me now. I am fortunate to have a most capable Number Two to help and that will be what helps me make it through this year.

• Freckles isn't moving around as easily as she used to. I don't know exactly why. I blamed the heat, but she's lying around a lot and walks stiffly when she does move. She's only five. I suppose a trip to the vet is in order.

And now, me for bed. Hasta luego.

whoa.

Haven't been here so long that TypePad's changed their interface. That'll show me.

For those of you worried about my long absence, fear not. All is well. Really. I've simply been extraordinarily busy, and the last thing I've wanted to do is spend another hour or so staring at the screen.

(For those of you not worried, well… good. There wasn't a need.)

A lot of things have contributed to my disappearing act: working at the store; freelance clients who've stretched out their original deadline by four months needing more edits and needing them NOW; Girl Scout activities; getting a new full-time job; and general malaise.

what?

Yeah. All that stress kind of works on a person after a while.

stress schmess. what about the job?

Oh. That. Yeah. Well, I interviewed for something, was offered something and had to turn it down because it was night hours. Then they shifted their plans and re-offered me the job. So I took it.

that's good, right?

Ostensibly. I mean, yes. I'm very glad I have this job. I'm not particularly happy with the all-around situation, but I would be the most ungrateful wretch in the world to bitch about it too much. Beggars can't be choosers and all that whatnot.

it's always something with you.

I'm sorry. It's just not putting me into a happy place. Regardless of the fact that my ever-worsening financial situation was casting a very real cloud over the hacienda, I was in fact in a much better head space when in my previous employment situation. Now I once again have money to pay the bills and recushion the nest, and I'm miserable. 

And I haven't knit but a handful of stitches in the last month. Honestly, I haven't felt like it. But this too shall pass.

And since it's summer, Scouts is over until September, I've billed the client and might actually have some time to myself come evening, you may actually hear from me on a regular basis again.

reflecting.

There comes a time in every parent's life when you sit down with your child and have The Talk. My time was yesterday.

I didn't know it was coming. I thought we were just sitting there, cuddling and watching America's Next Top Model reruns. She asked the question, I offered the answers, and all of a sudden we'd crossed some invisible barrier. Quick and painless.

Changes are coming; I can see them hovering on the horizon. Or, if I'm to be completely honest, when I look at her. I'm not sure I like that. I don't much think she does, either. She's already said, "I don't want to grow up yet."

I don't want her to. I want her to stay childlike and innocent. I want her to stay small and huggable. I don't get that choice and neither does she.

At least she knows she can talk to me, and that I'm not going to BS her with some flowery, beat-around-the-bush answer. At least I know she still trusts me, and that I haven't yet become the enemy.

For now.

(sigh)

perhaps I shouldn't say anything…

…because I'm not fully informed on the subject. What subject? This whole thing with George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin. 

I've purposely stayed uninformed on the subject, for multiple reasons. For one, it's quickly escalated from a campfire to an out of control, Santa Ana-driven conflagration; and two, the facts have been lost in the media flurry with everyone from the lawyers to the politicians to the race-baiters getting into the spotlight.

The most unbiased, cut-to-the-chase reporting I could find was via Wikipedia. (Yeah, I know.) So taking that with the proverbial pinch of kosher salt (larger flakes/better flavor), I get that Zimmerman thought he was Matt Dillon (the character, not the actor), took on more than he could chew or was advised to bite into, and when the kid fought back (or fought him off, depending on the source you choose to believe), Marshal Dillon shot and killed the kid. Add to that the bumbled handling of this case by the relevant law enforcement agencies (the real ones) and you have a community up in arms. 

In the end, a kid is dead and a guy with a hero complex (and a history of domestic … er … issues) is being browbeaten from all sides (including having a bounty on his head from the New Black Panthers). The cops seem to have mishandled it from the start, and only now under intense pressure from all sides are they truly mounting a more in-depth investigation.

In my state, regardless of how clear-cut the situation is, or how many dozens of eye-witnesses were present, if I discharged my weapon and claimed self-defense in killing someone else, I would be arrested. I would be taken into custody, have to call a lawyer, and potentially post bond. It would be up to the Commonwealth's Attorney to determine whether or not charges should be dismissed, not for the individual police officer to say "aw, gettowtahere."

I don't know what Florida law is. According to Wiki (again), the police don't arrest unless they determine at the time that the use of force in self-defense was unlawful. The police in this case made a judgement call at the time, and so it's pretty much case closed. So he's (for now) off scot-free and people are pissed about it. And I think they're justified in their indignation. If it were my kid and I was essentially told "too bad, so sad" by the cops, you bet your bippie I'd be all over the media about it.

And because the kid was black and Zimmerman is white, we have the added element of (gasp) racism involved. Whether or not that was the case, that's all the media needs to get its grip into this story and sure as bob's your uncle we have the Sharptons and the Jacksons and the Panthers and all that involved. Rallies nationwide. Add in the anti-gun lobbyists and the fact that this is threatening to become a Department of Justice case as a "hate crime" – despite any real evidence to indicate the necessity – and this is playing right into politics as we know it.

So I would personally like to thank George Zimmerman for 

• making the rest of us law-abiding gun owners look like paranoid zealots waiting for a chance to play hero
• giving the anti-gun lobby a poster boy for their cause
• giving the race-baiters more press.

What does irk me more than anything else though, is the DOJ playing for the spotlight here. This isn't a "hate crime." The only reason I can think of for their involvement is to give them some traction for their boss in a crucial election cycle.

You want to know what a real hate-crime looks like? Tell me why this report out of Kansas City hasn't gotten more attention, then. It happened at the end of February, according to KMBC, and yet I get very few hits about it, and no national attention via the … traditional… media sources.

But because it happened to a white kid who was attacked by black kids… naw. That couldn't be the case.

The Daily Mail article had a commenter who very succinctly made an important point:

As far as the victim is concerned, what is the difference between a "racially-motivated" physical assault and a "normal, violence-motivated" one, and why on earth does the justice system make a distinction? An injured or dead victim is just as injured or dead, whatever the motivation. The law should punish the act, not the thought behind it.

Well said, I think. The law should punish the act. So too should the investigation focus on the act, not the supposed motivation.

But there's no spotlight to be found in that, I suppose.

quick shots.

Only 'cause I've got a crapton of stuff to look up for other purposes today. I may make another rant later.

For the record, I didn't watch the SOTU address last night. I preferred to exercise my right to tell him to STFU instead. I read some of what was written about it, and I'm convinced I made the right decision. There'll be enough commercials running for the Anointed One between now and November and I don't need to give him dedicated air time in this house.

I'm likely to throw something heavy at the teevee by accident, and I can't afford to replace the set right now. Economy, don't you know. (That and I haven't seen a flat-screen that's really convinced me it's worth the money yet. I'll lose the traditional sets when they die, and not before.)

But to the headlines:

Mr. Blatt points out that it's not the Republican-controlled side of the legislature we should be bent about. He's right, as usual. While I'm not entirely pleased with what the House has done, (but when am I truly satisfied with anything?) the Senate has rested itself firmly on an excuse of gridlock and neglected its duty. They should be fired. I expect they'll be re-elected instead.

 

Kudos to one helluva goalie. Sure, it'll cost him some fans, but he's staying true to what he believes. 

What? It only counts when it's some left-wing actor or singer mouthing off on an approved main-stream network about something they know nothing about? Pfah. Go Timmy.

I've got opinions on military cuts (what? me? opinions?) but I don't have much save for gut instinct about it. I don't know whether Mr. Caruba has all the facts either, but neither of us think that what's being planned and done passes the smell test.

And finally, I kind of wish I still lived a little further north. At least when it comes to things like this. I ask my northern peeps: did you see it? Was it really fabulous?

Now I'm off to get some real work done. K out.

you need a fix, don't you?

Yes, you do.

It's that time of year again, y'all – the hills are alive with little girls wearing blue, green, brown and beige, covered with pins and colorful patches, hounding you about your preference for once-a-year special treats.

Allow me to add to your pile in this respect. Exhibit A: HSH.

She's primed and ready to sell Girl Scout Cookies. Thanks to your generosity (and complete lack of willpower), she not only met her own goal, but the troop as a whole set a sales record. They sent cookies to a Navy air wing, and are using their hard-earned money to fund various activities this year, both fun and educational.

Enter Exhibit B:

Yessssss… you know you want some. Eight varieties available, from the new Savannah Smiles (lemony wedge-shaped cookies) and Do-Si-Dos (peanutbuttersammichygoodness), to Thank You Berry Munch (which I swear taste just like Crunch Berries) and Thin Mints (order 'em by the case and have enough for your freezer).

If you don't have a Brownie of your own, you may borrow mine. She's fairly low maintenance. And she wholly appreciates y'all purchasing cookies. If you do have a Brownie of your own, thank you for supporting Girl Scouts.

Contact me if you would like a box or two. I'll cover the shipping.

 

best wishes

… for a wonderful, merry Christmas.

"For behold: I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people."

May you all find your own great joy today and always.

for your entertainment.

Tonight HSH participated in her very first school concert. (I'm not counting the preschool graduation show, which showed 4-year olds in total confusion over why they were onstage in the first place.) I was very proud. Firstly, she looked stunning.

too good for america's next top model, i think.

She picked it out herself. Sparkles are very "in," I guess. I blame Hizzoner for the gene pool, because I was never that pretty.

This photo bothered me in a way only a mother can be bothered.

look, ma -- earrings are back!*

I don't know if it's the fact that she's lost that baby roundness, or that she just appears to be way older than eight, or that she's showing signs of having definitely inherited my nose. In any case, it bothers me.

The concert itself featured this very small school's very small music program: the 3rd graders, the upper school choir (all 23 of them), and the mass band (5th graders, middle school, and upper school). I won't say it wasn't painful to listen to at times, but they all did their best.

The band played a lot of non-holiday fare, including some Herbie Hancock, and of all things, Freebird. I don't know if that was a special request from the Claus or not, but it wasn't half bad. The music teacher has to direct and play trombone at the same time (there's some holes in the band that need filling), but I suppose it's not that hard to keep time with a trombone slide.

the third grade. hsh is top row, extreme house right.

The choirs sang a lot of decidedly religious music. (The privilege of a private school, I imagine. I think that's great.) The 3rd graders got their own slot, singing four different (and unfamiliar) songs. They did a really good job. I'm being totally honest here. The upper school choir sounded sick by comparison, despite learning a lot of nice pieces, though, including a comical medley from O Brother, Where Art Thou? featuring the only six guys in the school with the cojones to sing in public. Then they brought the little kids back on stage and all sang together.

our heroine is center front, paying attention to the conductor just as she should.

Again, I didn't know the song, but the kids did very well. HSH sang her little heart out. One of the ladies from the bus stop remarked on it, with a smile so big you'd think it was her own grandkid on the stage.

I look at these kids, most of whom I've known for at least four years now, and it's kind of scary. I feel like I can tell you who the troublemakers are going to be; who the cheerleaders and the jocks are; who's going to be on the fringe. Yeah, they're only 8 and 9 year olds now, but how quickly they grow up.

I don't think I like that.

_____

*Oh yeah. Earrings are back in after the great Lost Back Fiasco; had to essentially repierce one ear but so far the sterling wires are being tolerated, and I didn't have to consult a professional.

things get a little dusty

…when you're busy. So I'll just highlight some things that have been rattling around here at Casa DBT:

• Rumors of my demise are highly suspect. I have considered taking down my shingle, just because in two months I've not had the time nor the desire to write anything. Political posts require me to get pissed off and other posts require me to be either witty or verbose, and both take energy I don't have right now. So there. However, the radio silence is deafening in its own way, and I'll do my best to be a little better at updating this space.

• I have been working on stuff. Eight of 20 wee snowmen are knit, and I'm going to finish the other 12 if it petrifies the muscles in my hands. Yes, I'm well aware that I'm crazy, but I've committed myself, and so it will be done.

I finished this before the great snowman invasion:

Yes, that's the famed Alan Dart jultomten. I used all manner of odds and ends, and he's quite content to hang about the house. I accidentally attached his nose off center. It adds to his personality.

• I don't know who are giving me the bigger headache: the talky tweenies in the troop, or their parents. The girls – who are mostly very good – are most bearable when they're very busy. The parents can't be trusted to follow simple instructions, don't check their email, and think they can monopolize valuable – and limited – meeting time with questions that could be easily answered if they followed instructions and read their damn email. I sent home a nastygram with the girls this week that, if read, should minimize future issues.

Oh, calm down. It wasn't "nasty" nasty. It was just … firmly worded.

• The suspension of Mr. Cain's campaign was disappointing. I don't put a lot of credence into the allegations against him. But it doesn't matter what I believe; it matters what the mainstream media can get the average, miseducated American to believe. And apparently the average Jane and Joe swallowed the bait. Thus, the MSM and their leftist allies successfully put down a black man who dared publicly step off the plantation. Note how they've also cleverly put forth into public notice the least conservative members the pack to lead the race for the GOP nomination.

Aaaand the RNC does nothing but stick to the tired old formula of shuffle up the heir apparent while not fighting back. Fabulous.

I'm reserving further analysis until after primary season actually starts. 

• The holiday season has been going well. I drove around the neighborhood to check out the lights, and yes, my whacktastic neighbor has his full show going. He's broadcasting a variety of carols on his own little loop (107.3, if you're driving about), complete with elf voices reminding you not to block the other driveways. Apparently the penguins have developed a notoriety. He's billing them as the [neighborhood name] Penguins.

• I was a bit disappointed with The Sing Off this season. Not that I didn't watch; not that I didn't sense real moments of brilliance. The problem lies in refusing to let a'cappella music shine as its own genre. The producers have evidently decided that it needs to be pushed into existing drawers of the musical card catalog, and the artists should follow suit. Also, allowing groups that have formed for the sole purpose of this teevee show to compete, without a track record or history proceeding them, has dragged down the level of artistry. 

The audio mix isn't helping. It's impossible to tell if what the teevee viewer is hearing bears any resemblance to what the judges are hearing. I have to believe there's either a marked difference, or the judges have suffered marked hearing losses since last season.

That having been said, the winning group was head and shoulders above a lot of its competition and I wish them well. I want the album when it's released.

• And that's about it for this post. I will do my best to not let cobwebs collect in this corner of the innerwebs from now on.