Text under Turtle on Puzzle Stack:
“How did you get all the way to the top of these puzzle pieces?” asked the bird.
“The ladder,”replied the turtle.
“That doesn’t explain much. How could a turtle climb a ladder?” asked the bird.
“Because,” said the turtle, “I am wearing socks.”
Text under Turtle on Puzzle Stack:
This isn’t much of a post; I’m just saying. Politics aside, the healthcare website has been such a mess.
There was Julie London. We had a record of hers in our home that I used to play. Just a cello (maybe it was a bass) and her singing. It was quite beautiful. I sometimes play this on Sunday mornings:
I am preparing to fast for several hours before I go in to the hospital tomorrow and have a test done. Apparently, my lungs have decided not to participate in life, and in response I will be having a gigantic robot arm of death shoved up my nose and into my lungs, where it will tear a chunk of my lung-flesh out so the hospital folks can do lab stuff to it, leaving me a tattered, bleeding stump of humanity, but probably better off for the procedure. I’m being pretty brave about it, considering how badly the torment will surely be, but the fasting part really doesn’t appeal to me. It’s going to be like seven hours between meals. I decided to fortify myself with a batch of lemon bars and some bacon.
So, bacon bowls with a baked egg. You take three strips of bacon, cut them in half, weave them into square, and place them in the freezer on a small piece of tinfoil. Leave them for like half an hour so they are not frozen, but firm enough to mold into a bowl shape inside the tinfoil. (I like to wrap a second piece of tinfoil around them after that so the bacon grease doesn’t slosh out into the oven.) Bake them at 375 for about thirty minutes, then carefully pour the grease out, put an egg into the bowl and return it to the oven for another thirty minutes. Sprinkle a little oregano on top and eat. I should make a set of images to go with this. Maybe a post for later.
When I was a little girl, my family had a poetry anthology with this little number in it:
The rain it raineth on the just
And also on the unjust fella;
But chiefly on the just, because
The unjust steals the just’s umbrella.
-Charles Synge Christopher Bowen
We kids used to laugh about it because it sounded so funny. As an adult, I can see a little more of the point the writer was making.
It is so often that the person who’s just doing his job, living his life, has to carry the person who is not. Isn’t it funny (or not funny) how often the unjust then wastes the resources someone else produced and then turns around to demand more?
So now Facebook is being called out, yet again, for (allegedly) violating people’s privacy by scanning messages marked private and selling user demographics from them. It bothers me when companies do things like that- the rule of law is a valuable principle, and should be cared for and respected. When people abuse the legal system like this, the end result to the rest of us is new legislation. Laws piled on top of laws to clarify the mountain of laws we’re all already buried under. When this is finally brought to that point, the corporate fatcats at Facebook will have no new opinion about my privacy, nor will they decide that they now have enough money. They will find a new loophole, and continue on. We will all have some new legislation, whether it will directly affect us or not.
Here’s a song by Django Django with an intriguing video of the Indian Death Well riders. I think the song works well with the video footage and the notion of facing death simpy because it is your job. The men have such an interesting perspective on risk, don’t they? I’m not a hero, there is an element of danger in everything…
Happy Monday! Go do something risky and big today.
Amybites concocted this wonderful recipe for Butterbeer cupcakes. For those of you not familiar with the term “butterbeer,” it is a fictitious (nonalcohloic) beverage in the Harry Potter stories. The cupcakes are really delicious; this is now my third batch, and I’ve probably gained two dress sizes because of them, but oh well.
You can click here to view the recipe, if you want some butterbeer cupcakes of your own (which, believe me, you really do). Without completely reproducing the recipe, I will tell you a few things.
- At each spot where she says to beat the ingredients, whip the batter real good. The fluffier, the better.
- You can shortcut the double boiler with store bought butterscotch ganache, but I like to make my own from scratch.
- If you don’t have a squeeze bottle, you just need to get one- you can buy it for a buck, but it’s too important to skip. When you go to put the butterscotch ganache into the cupcakes, wait for them to cool a little. When it sinks into the cupcake, put more in until the cake stops absorbing the ganache. This usually takes several passes for me, but it’s worth it.
- Do not skimp on special ingredients. I cheated on the immitation butter flavoring and they turned out mediocre and weren’t worth the effort.
- Put a block of cream cheese in the frosting. It gives it less of a sugary confectioners’ sugar sweetness and brings more of a salty contrast to the cupcakes.
They make 18 cupcakes, and take about an hour from start to finish.
My brother and I were talking about the background of the area where he lives, and he mentioned a phenomenon about the language. There are certain words that his neighbors do not have, which is nothing noteworthy, as no two languages are going to have identical vocabularies, except that some of the words he listed frankly amazed me. Logic, mindset, proportion, eternity, infinite, science… the two that were most surprising to me were right and wrong.
Imagine a society with no word for “wrong.” How does that even happen? There is a right way to put shoes on, and a wrong way to hold a baby, and so on. It seems only natural that sooner or later, a person will encounter someone else who is doing something in way that is just clearly not correct:
My brother said there are words for “beautiful” and “ugly,” which lead me to wonder if those are the go-to labels people would apply to correctness and incorrectness.
If they do that, maybe judgey people who go around telling others how to raise their kids look like they’re calling each other’s children ugly.
Anyhow, if they don’t have words for the phrase “You are doing that all wrong!” one has to think that they don’t need that phrase very much. Does their vocabulary indicate that their culture is less judgmental or discerning? A possible contributing factor to this is the tendency for people to borrow words from surrounding languages until their native vocabulary has thinned, but I can’t help thinking that the personality of the individuals using the words has a stronger hand in defining the common vocabulary.
The title of this post is a line from Sondheim’s Into the Woods, which I probably talk about too much. The woods are a metaphor for people’s struggles, often surfacing their true character as they journey in and out of them throughout the story. I embedded a clip below of the baker’s wife and Cinderella’s prince meeting in the woods, because of that phrase: “Right and Wrong don’t matter in the woods, only feelings…”
If I were taking my sociology from Stephen Sondheim, I would say that he has an explanation for people allowing those words to go by the wayside, and it’s a matter of not considering them a big enough priority when trouble arises.
Another part of me is thinking it must have something to do with blended languages or something, though. I just can’t wrap my mind around a society that simply has no term for “wrong.” How different would our culture have to be if we never made or used such words?
Maybe we would have been better without some of them. I can think of a few words now that I would like to trim out of our collective use: money, schedule… What do you think?
This past year, two guys named Dan Pearce and Jack de Quidt, who have formed The Tall Trees, released a game called Castles in the Sky. It’s so simple that I hardly want to describe it, because I would hate for you to think it is plain. It’s really the opposite; simple, but lovely and special. It’s like an 8-bit haiku.
The play is simple, with the game lasting about fifteen minutes from start to finish. In between the leaping and steering tasks are the lines of a poem about finding the uncomplicated joys in life and lost balloons and going to sleep at night. I considered reproducing the poem here for you to read, but it might diminish some of the enjoyment of the game.
I don’t get paid to write posts for people or endorse products, but I really like this one. For roughly the cost of a cup of coffee (or less, depending on how you drink it), you can download it here. For me, it was definitely worth fifteen minutes and a buck and a half.
Vogue Magazine tweeted this:
and at first sight, I laughed quietly and kept moving on, which, no offense to the writer, is probably what it deserves. In whose reality could a manicure possibly be important, let alone “all-important”? Even a manicurist or a hand model could skip getting one without anyone really noticing. Of course a fashion magazine would talk like that, but that line doesn’t even deserve the respect of an eye-roll, right?
“Important” is just one of those words that morphs along with us; we redefine it based on our surroundings. Just like someone who considers a manicure important while planning a New Year’s party might easily ignore it if they were planning for a week long hike in the woods, and the mere thought of recreation might go out the window if they were struggling for the necessities of life, “important things” slip in and out of relevance as easily as our changing circumstances.
It’s easy enough to dismiss people who attribute a high priority to their nails, but reading that tweet made me kind of aware of where I am right now. You may have noticed I said that was an email- meaning, I follow Vogue on Twitter. I actually really like fashion, and I even started fashion blogging a little (You can see it here, if you’re interested.) I like that blog, and every now and then I want to go work on it. I just can’t though- I just absolutely cannot.
I started blogging because having a creative outlet is “important” to me, and it seemed like a fun thing to do. I wanted an outlet and a new medium. As it got going, though, since I occasionally illustrate for people, having an online presence meant that I had a brief and personal sort of informal portfolio for potential clients to look over. That’s important to me, but it got shouldered out of the way big time about ten months ago.
Meet Scratchy. He’s the mascot of MIT’s fabulous free online educational programming software for kids. He’s also the current redefinition of “important” for me, as I have had my nose on the grindstone working him into a set of lesson plans. Pretty much all of my other “important”s have gone to the wayside, and I just realized that I haven’t posted since October. A small handful of patient friends and family are waiting on me to get something done for them, and to each of you, may I say thank so much.
This all went through my mind as I pondered the immediacy of priorities, and how badly I often juggle my own. I hope you all know how much I appreciate your patience and graciousness toward me. I also probably shouldn’t tell you this, but you’re kind of my new year’s resolution- to juggle the many things that matter better and finish what I’ve started…
Happy new year, everyone.