November 18, 2008

Top 10: Strange comments edition

Top_10_tuesday
It's back! Not that anyone noticed it was gone.

Top Ten odd phrases I've uttered in the pursuit of my profession.

1. The goat is ready for his close-up.
2. Cue the seagulls!
3. Can someone fluff the curds again?
4. Just don't let Tom Skerritt fall through the floor this time.
5. Trim his hair another inch and we're good.
6. You can't use the fake scoop for the hero shot.
7. Can you lick the Twinkie a little less suggestively?
8. Let's wipe off the cow snot and do it again.
9. Can we dub in the fart later?
10. I think we've got to cut the Chihuahua.

Chihuahua_figurine_fawn_ms200

Shout out to RayO!

November 17, 2008

Chicken sweaters

I forgot: the other very popular search that brings up my site is about knitting sweaters for chickens. This is what they're searching for:

From the BBC: 

In from the cold: chilly chickens given a winter warmer

Chicken How would you feel? One minute you're in a warm battery shed [laying shed] squashed up alongside someone who's pecking out your feathers - the next you're out in an open field with nothing to protect you from the elements. Thank the Lord for chicken jumpers...

Queenie and her three friends are feeling the cold a little more than most this winter.

Recovered from a battery farm in November last year, they were largely without feathers and - away from the artificial heat of the chicken sheds - have been feeling the winter weather.

But owner Brigitte Hawley from Benenden has come up with a clever way of allowing her hens to enjoy the outside world, while being as snug as their more feathered friends. (BBC video clip)

A knitted chicken jumper - or 'Chux Tux' as Brigitte calls it - is the latest must-have item for feather-challenged chickens exploring the brave new world outside of the battery.

Poultry pullies

The 'Tux' can come in different designs depending on which parts of the bird are in need of insulation. Brigitte can also create poultry pullies in a variety of colours.

These hens have all been re-housed by the Battery Hen Welfare Trust, a charity that works with farmers to give a new lease of life to 'spent' battery hens when their egg productivity starts to take a slide.

The good news is that once out in the open - and with the help of a Chux Tux - the hens soon start to re-grow their feathers. Great news for Queenie and for the next reformed battery hen to inherit her winter coat.

How's that for a sneaky way to repeat a post?  Um, Kathi, time to learn to knit . . .

November 16, 2008

I'll be watching you

I'll let you in on a little secret bloggers share: we know where you live. And how you got here.

There are website traffic counters that, depending on how much you pay, can tell you all kinds of things about your readers. I like to maintain a little mystery in my life, so I don't pay for the Big Brother version. However, I can tell readers' general ISP geographic location and the referring site,  search engine or other webpage.

For some reason (my scintillating, stimulating thoughts?) Google has a little thing for me, and I seem to pop up on a lot of searches. The most popular searches that bring up my blog are:

1. six words to describe your life
2. entrelac felted knitting
3. taming a wild kitten
4. stone soup lessons

These searches constitute about 30% of the traffic to my blog. Obviously I'm not what they're looking for, as they click and move on.

I also get a lot of visitors from Bend Blogs (hi there, Jake!). About half my readers are from the Bend area, though I've gotten visits from the UK, Canada, Ukraine, Nairobi, South Africa, Japan, Australia, Finland, etc.  Boy, I bet they were surprised!

Anyway, don't worry, your identity is hidden for the most part. But it does give you pause about how and where you're being tracked. Someone knows you visit that Kenny Rogers fan club site.

Kennyrogers

November 15, 2008

Shooting

One of the favorite parts of my job is shooting. Commercials, that is. I've been involved in tons of commercial productions and they're always challenging, fun, creative and fascinating. And frequently silly and often ridiculous. From brushing blusher on peaches to cueing seagulls with crackers to finessing the curds for a cottage cheese spot, it's always something.

Today I wrangled a goat. That was fun.

The classic line is "never work with animals or children" so of course all my shoots these days include both. Here's a shot of Hans shooting another Melissa with a red-tailed hawk.

Hawk shoot

Stay tuned to your favorite (Bend) station to see the spot.

November 14, 2008

A big ol' Central Oregon howdy

A shout-out to a blog-reading newbie friend who took me out for a great birthday lunch today. Yo, Dan! Warning - blog-surfing is addictive. It might even lure you to write your own...

Little tiny pill

OK, this is going to sound pathetic, but really it's not. Imitrex

I did go out with a friend for a birthday drink and food at my favorite local wine bar. Henry went with us and behaved beautifully, taking care of us and entertaining himself (and many others, as usual). I was kind of reluctant to go as I felt a headache coming on at work, but took an Imitrex on the way there and soldiered through.

By the time we got home, it was clearly a migraine lurking behind the pill that mildly suppressed it. I took another one and lay down "for a little bit" until the pill did its work. Henry again was lovely, making me tea and bringing me his blankie (yes, he still has one - she's now a member of the family).

Three hours later, I woke up to find him watching cartoons and eating cereal at 11 pm. This morning promises to be fun...

I don't know how many of you experience migraines. Imitrex works, slower than you'd like, and pretty much always knocks you out. The key is to take it AS SOON AS YOU FEEL THE MIGRAINE, not like me, who pretty much ignores the signals until it demands full attention and acquiescence. You really need to get out of denial and act immediately if you don't want to end up in the emergency room, painfully reciting all your medications, doctors, insurance info and medical history over and over while an ice pick is being hammered into your temple, waiting around while a meth addict trashes the place, eventually getting a shot that makes you throw up and knocks out the headache while a nurse's assistant feeds your child doughnuts and Pepsi at three in the morning. Not that that's ever happened or anything.

Just saying.

November 12, 2008

On the brink of the next number

Candles

Hmm. I'm writing this on the eve of my fif-somethingthorother birthday, and I can't say I'm feeling that happy about things. It isn't about the aging part, though certainly that isn't tons of fun. I'm finding the wisdom and self-acceptance is worth the wrinkles and bumps. You just have to laugh at it all, really. The cosmic joke.

But anyway, as I've mentioned, I tend to use these (arbitrary) milestones as markers in my life to stop and look back, assess and reflect. This one finds me in a not-so-great mindset tonight.

I'm employed at a job I excel at and love, but my salary has plunged to a 20-year low and I'm not sure I can swing it.
I'm (barely) out of a hurtful dead-end relationship, but I miss his spirit and passion and love terribly.
I'm surrounded by happy busy friends, yet feel more isolated and alone than ever.
My dog is lame and in pain and can't understand why I won't play frisbee.
My pond leaks, my brakes squeal and my son still wets the bed.

(Should I go on?)

But yet. 

Every day I'm thankful for the experiences and luck I've had. Every day I'm grateful for my son, my home, my friends, my family. I take responsibility for the choices I've made and where they've led me.

Non, je ne regrette rien. Me and Edith Piaf.

Wed. cop-out

How's this for a lazy post? Just re-read this one - it says it all for me today.

Almost Blue

Do you ever get in one of those moods?  Sad, nostalgic, moody, adrift?  Anomie, malaise; I could go on...

mountain balm

This post title refers to a great version of a song by Elvis Costello (no, not the album Almost Blue), but nobody says it better (or more) than Van Morrison:

In the afternoon, baby in my room
When the lights are dim way beyond the hill
In the afternoon, baby in my room
When I'm really down get me off the ground
Melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

In the morning time when I go outside
In the morning time it's like that all the while
In the afternoon when I'm in my room
Every single day, it won't go away
Melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

And it's in my heart, when we're apart
And it stops and starts, and it's in my heart
Every single day it's always in my way
When I'm making hay, all I've got to say
Melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

Well it's in my blood and it's in my veins
Here it comes again, when I'm in the rain
In the wind and rain, well the sun don't shine
Well it's always mine, all of the time
Melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

And it's in my life and it's all the time
It doesn't go away when the church bells chime
In the evening time when I drink my wine
In the evening time when it's on my mind
Melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

It's only melancholia
Oh melancholia, oh melancholia, oh melancholia, oh melancholia
Melancholia, melancholia
They call it, call it melancholia, call it melancholia, call it melancholia, call it melancholia
Call it melancholia, melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

OK, we get it, Van! You're seriously bumming!

I'm feeling the same way today.

November 11, 2008

Working from home

Mel_bulletin_06_2

Photo from an old Bulletin article: see the busy ad exec!

I love working from home. I have an efficient, comfortable office, a big-screen monitor and all the latest equipment, a nice view out the window, and my kitchen nearby. I'm pretty disciplined at settling down and working steadily, though with a few little forays on the web now and then. And very so often I get up and put in a load of laundry or sit in the sun for a break. It's cozy and quiet and very pleasant.

Unfortunately, most of my current work is managing others, which you can't really do remotely. Or at least I can't. Henry describes my work as sitting in front of a computer and talking all day, which is pretty accurate. I spend my time meeting with folks, brainstorming ideas, solving problems, answering questions and providing "constructive" advice.  I shuffle a lot of papers too. All of which works best when I'm physically, not just virtually, on site.

So mostly my days of working from home are over, except when Henry is sick or school is closed (like today). Then I can happily settle in and blog be a SOHO* again.

*biz jargon for small office/home office

November 10, 2008

Putting the beds to bed


Fall arrangement, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

Spent the weekend doing yardwork, chopping down irises, raking the garden and feeling virtuous. Most years I look out in December at the soggy plants and messy beds and wish I'd gotten to it all. So this year I did. Amazing what you can accomplish when you're not in a time-consuming relationship.

This arrangement is completely from the garden. Yet to be added are two Casablanca lilies who inexplicably decided to bloom in mid-November. Flower arranging is a fleeting art form, kind of like ice sculpture. Since I don't yet have a chainsaw (unlike my friend Suzanne who bought herself one when her husband was out of town), I arrange flowers.

November 08, 2008

A frenzied fit of finishing

At last!! They're off the needles! Img_0610
Damn, these took forever. I kind of felt nostalgic finishing them - I've been working on them ALL YEAR. They've been with me through a lot. Well, good riddance. Affectionately of course.

Also, this: Img_0613_2

This was started years ago as a pullover for toddler Henry. It was a knitted albatross around my neck, always a little niggling guilt in the back of my head when I started a new project. I'm satisfied with it in its final metamorphosis and it will be a fine Christmas present. I just need to get rid of the rest of the hateful yarn and it will all be behind me.

Those of you who don't knit probably don't understand the intensity of emotion I'm dealing with here, but believe me, the relief at finishing these is exquisite.

Time to cast on something new!  Maybe some more socks...

But first:

Christmas project list. I've decided I will give only knitted objects to my family, though Susan gets extra, of course, because she demands it. Just kidding. Maybe. I can't divulge everything, but here's the tally so far.

Funky niece: Noro mitts - done.

Sibling: Mystery Noro project - 35% there. Kind of boring knitting. Good for TV time.

Mom: Bag above: DONE!  Ditto those socks for another sibling.

Henry's Big Brother: Whippet sweater. Started. 2x2 ribbing forever. Boring.

Hip niece: Fetching mitts: don't like the last two tries. Need to do over.

Dad: he has plenty of hats and vests, courtesy of Mom. Hmmm. He may get nut brittle, if I can get it done before my sister does. (I call it, Susan!!)

Henry: expensive plastic electronic junk. What every boy craves.

Nephews get gift cards; a polite way to give cash, which is what they really want.

I'm exceedingly proud that I actually started all this in October. Just possibly I won't be sewing up the last seam Christmas Eve, which I've done too many times to be funny anymore. Really, if I don't do laundry, cooking, cleaning or work out, I have plenty of time. I'm not worried.

November 06, 2008

Race, curtain fabric and the Campbell's Kids

Since Tuesday night, many people have been asking me what Henry thinks of it all; i.e. a black man winning the presidency. The answer is "not much."

We watched the returns together -- I figured it was more important than his grammar homework that night. They declared Obama the winner and started panning the faces of the huge crowd gathered at the park in Chicago. Just like Kathi D and so many others, I just burst into sobs and couldn't stop. Henry mistook my tears for sadness and sat patting my back, saying "It's OK, mom." I told him that I was crying with joy, and tried to explain the significance of the event. While I talked, Henry's eyes welled up and tears started rolling down his face. I asked him why he was crying, and he answered through his sobs, "I don't know!" When mom cries, kids cry.

The fact that Obama's win holds little meaning for Henry is understandable and certainly positive in many ways. He's only nine, and has no reason to believe it's out of the ordinary. In our little city, we have less than 1% black residents, many of which are, like Henry, adopted kids of white parents. He's had no significant exposure to black cultural or racial issues. But is that good? Or should I make him aware of the racial context he's certain to face?

I think it's naive to say his color doesn't matter and won't affect him throughout his life, and wonder how to best prepare him. Many experts say to wait until he asks about it, but so far he's never brought it up; it's always been me. From when he was a baby, I made a point of having black and African music, art and books in our home. I colored in the all-white faces in his books with a brown pencil, and scrutinized birthday cards, posters, curtain fabric, cartoons and decorations for multi-culti scenes. I wonder if I'm over-emphasizing the issue, and certainly it seems he couldn't care less. But you never know what messages are sent and received.

What are your thoughts? I'd love to hear.

Campbellssoupkids

Where's my brown pencil?


November 05, 2008

A new day

For the first time in a long long time, I'm proud to be an American.
Flag_10
I might even buy a flag!

November 03, 2008

Or you could stick pins in them

From Lion Brand Yarns:

Hold Your Own Debate
With Presidential Finger Puppets

"These are serious times and we have a serious choice to make, but that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun! Who do yarn lovers choose for president? Tell us who your presidential pick is and we'll publish the results! Click here to vote!

 

Make one or both of the candidates and make someone smile!"

November 01, 2008

A Poly Sci perspective

I normally stay away from politics in this blog to avoid flaming spammers, and anyway, it's probably pretty obvious where my political philosophy lies, but I did want to share this editorial from the Harvard Crimson. (Note the author's name, hint, hint.)

Looking Backward and Forward from Election Day, 2008
PUBLISHED ON 10/31/2008 3:09:03 AM

Most American voters appear to support Barack Obama for the presidency. The fact that the presumed winner is a young man with little national governing experience, a middle name shared with a notorious villain, and a last name only one letter away from that of the United States’ public enemy number one is extraordinary. Add to that, of course, that his mother is white and his father African, so our presumed next president will be nonwhite, or even “black.”

Unsurprising as these observations are, it still seems worthwhile to underscore just how astonishing this outcome will be if it occurs. Here are a few facts that might help those under age 25 understand better why those of us over age 50 are walking around with dropped jaws.

In my lifetime, blacks in some southern communities were in grave physical danger if they did not step off the sidewalk when a white person approached them. During my childhood, Virginia’s governor and many educators closed entire public school systems for years so that schools could not be desegregated. When I was in my teens, black and white activists were murdered for trying to ensure the franchise for black citizens. As recently as my young adulthood, three-fourths of whites agreed in a national survey that “blacks shouldn’t push themselves where they’re not wanted.”

The idea that a black man would within a few decades be elected president with strong white support would have seemed ludicrous to the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. just as much as to Malcolm X or George Wallace.

Almost as astonishing to people of a certain age is the fact that Obama’s main rival in the Democratic primaries was a woman. Here too it is worth recalling a few facts to remind those under 25 how much the world has changed since their faculty were young.

In my teens, a best-selling book, “The Feminine Mystique,” amazed and shocked readers by asserting that women were not fully satisfied by submerging their identities completely in the wishes and actions of their husbands and children. When I entered college, women’s dormitories had housemothers, midnight curfews, open-door requirements for dorm rooms, and sign-in sheets for male guests. When I entered graduate school, the female students held their annual meeting to inform newcomers which male faculty could be trusted always, sometimes, or never (we took careful notes). Just a few years later, a prominent professor wondered in a faculty meeting if female graduate students were like the wolf children of Avignon, and never would overcome their unsatisfactory childhood socialization. Over a third of both men and women agreed in the General Social Survey as late as 1974 that “women should take care of running their homes and leave running the country up to men”

No wonder that we cannot stop reading political blogs, obsessing about the newest poll, and struggling to find something in the political science literature to explain this election.

Questions remain, of course, about the long-term impact of Obama’s presumed election. Here are a few that will keep me busy in research and teaching:

How much of Obama’s ability to obtain whites’ support was due to his unusual racial heritage—the grandparents from Kansas, the father in the United States on a student visa, the visible and unembarrassed biraciality? Is it now possible that white voters will be equally enthusiastic about an African American candidate descended from slaves?

Will Obama be constrained to maintain a race-neutral political and policy persona in order to keep other minorities’ and whites’ support? After being elected, if he is, can he discuss illegal immigration, the achievement gap, black male incarceration, or affirmative action without alienating too many voters? More generally, can he talk openly about racism, nativism, and structural impediments to nonwhites’ success, along with talking about parental responsibility and personal excellence?

Might an Obama presidency “push the prospect of a Latino Democrat getting elected further into the future than it would have been otherwise,” as one scholar has observed in an e-mail listserv? More generally, how will political coalitions or, conversely, electoral competition among people of color be affected by an Obama presidency?

How will daily interactions between whites and nonwhites change? Will there be less discriminatory treatment in jobs, health care, education, or the criminal justice system? Conversely, will people of color see racial consciousness as more optional and less necessary, so that their identity as an economic conservative or stamp collector can come to the fore?

Might the worst-off blacks (say, young men in inner cities) be just as badly off, or even worse off in relative terms, under a Democratic administration that “spreads the wealth around?” That is, even if the top four economic quintiles, say, are made better off over the next few years, can those gains reach down into the few American communities that are deeply poor, dangerous, ill-educated, jobless, and isolated?

Even Barack Obama will not solve all of America’s problems of race, class, and gender in the United States over the next few years. Nevertheless, we can pause to savor how far our nation has come in recent decades, before tackling the huge and fascinating questions that lie before us as students, scholars, and citizens.

Jennifer Hochschild is the Henry LaBarre Jayne Professor of Government , Professor of African and African American Studies, and Harvard College Professor.

October 31, 2008

Pumpkin/Muffin

Pumpkin_2

© 2004 Melissa Hochschild

October 30, 2008

Old Dog Blues

Sounds like a song title, and it probably is.

Flash dog turned twelve this summer. He's still crazy and obsessed, just not as long. Still loves to charge around for the frisbee and ball and do his tricks like a frisky young pup, but come nighttime, he's a stiff old boy. He's had an intermittent limp for the last six months or so, and it's getting worse. So I hauled him into the vet's again this morning to examine his leg further.

So today he's consulting with an orthopedic specialist and getting x-rays. Of course, $400 just for that - no diagnosis or treatment yet. Ah well. What can you do?

He's been my faithful companion since he was seven weeks old. There was a time when he understood more words than Henry, then it was like having two toddlers, one of whom barked. There were some very trying days during that period and I went so far as to investigate another family for him (Flash, not Henry), but we learned to get along as a pack. My dream was to one day sit on the front porch and watch them play together, and that's now a reality. Flash is happy and snappy and wimpy and limpy and lovey and shovy all at the same time, to which I definitely relate. He's a good dog.

big nose Flashclassic Flash shot

Leaving the vet's, I had to tear myself away from a flyer that read: "Want to raise and show a pig?"  I would dearly love to raise a pig -- thank god for suburban CC&R's.

October 29, 2008

A pensee about birthdays

Today is Neighbor X's 36th birthday. We've been hanging out since just before his 32nd. (Yes, he's very young. And your point is?)

I realized tonight, while missing his party, that we never actually spent his birthday together. Hmmm. Tells you something, I guess, especially in hindsight.

His 32nd happened when we were in the flirting stage. I bought him a latte and muffin and left it by his front door in the morning. The next year when we were finally a couple, he was in Spain for six months. His birthday consisted of an elaborately bungled mail-order sweater and a loving phone call on my part, some sort of debauchery in Barcelona on his. Two years ago, we broke up a week or two before the date. I remember throwing him his present, a racquetball bag, during the scene. He still uses the bag.

Last year, we were once again on the outs, and he had a party at his place without me. That day I left him a bag of homemade marinara sauce, pasta, Italian wine and Parmesan. We got back together two weeks later on my birthday and made it through Christmas, not quite making it to the New Year's finish line.

This year, we talked about being together and an invitation was floated, but I couldn't ignore the reality that nothing had changed and that it was an empty offer.

I like key recurring dates and holidays. I use them to look back, to try to make some sense of my chaotic life. What was I doing and feeling two years ago, ten years ago, twenty? I like to identify some ways I've changed, and use that to affirm that I'm learning and growing. I hate to think that I'm knowingly repeating the same mistakes.

So tonight, I can say that I've broken out of the pain cycle of the last four years, and, sadder but wiser, am moving on. I trust that that knowledge will be enough to keep me moving forward to a better, healthier place. I may never experience those highs again, but I now understand that they're truly not worth the lows that came with.

Get pumped up!

Lots of sports action tonight! The Phillies and Rays resume their battle to the death, and even more exciting, Henry has a flag football game under the lights! Go Rams!

(What were they thinking, scheduling a mid-week end-of-October game at 6:30 at night for third and fourth graders? Just don't be sniffing my travel mug beverage . . . )

Team_2

October 28, 2008

Worthless post alert

Top_10_tuesday

Top 10 reasons I have nothing to blog about today:

1. I'm too busy doing 4th grade homework.
2. My life is boring.
3. Everybody's hungry: cats, dog, Henry, me.
4. I have just enough time tonight to knit, not blog.
5. I'm kind of down today.
6. No baseball.
7. My knitting projects are a secret til Dec. 26.
8. Dishes and laundry, both dirty.
9. You deserve better.
10. I've run out of things to list.

Badger Cam!

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