New word?

I'd like to introduce a new word, which I feel is necessary and useful in our modern age.

Spampage: (n.) 1) the act of forwarding copious amounts of email without regard to the receiver's level of interest (e.g. He just got a computer at home and now he's gone on a total spampage.) 2) the sending of "news" articles, chain letters, or religious propaganda via email to everyone in one's address book (e.g. Don't give grandma your email address unless you are ready for the spampage.)

This is Just to Say (Spoof)

I have eaten the plums

that were in the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

Apparently William Carlos Willams wrote this poem (This is Just to Say) and it has been spoofed ever since. This American Life contributors wrote a number of great ones: you can hear it here. (Archive: April 18 2008 show 354: Mistakes Were Made). I have been reading some clever ones (thank you, Google)-- here are my first attempts. Share yours.

This is Just to Say - #1

I have shredded the photos

that were in the back of your drawer

and which you were probably

saving

to remember your ex-girlfriend

Forgive me

they were beautiful

so flat

and so old

This is Just to Say - #2

I have jammed on the brakes

forcing you to do the same

since you were driving

two feet

behind me

Forgive me

you probably thought

you could get there faster

than I am driving

Important HK update

Heard this on the radio this morning. I can't believe I almost forgot to update you.

Koji Sasahara / AP

Kimono-clad Hello Kitty holds her certificate received from Japan's Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism Minister Tetsuzo Fuyushiba, left, at his office in Tokyo on Monday. Fuyushiba appointed the popular cartoon character as ambassador to welcome tourists from China and Hong Kong.






Had to check Hello Kitty Hell to see what his reaction was, and while I was there I couldn't resist sharing a couple more good ones. Yes, that is a sewing machine. And a nun.

A Roomba of one's own

Our vacuum cleaner has been on its last legs (literally, the second set of wheels fell off and so it didn't really move anymore, rendering it fairly useless for cleaning) for a long time now. Not that we really notice too much, since it doesn't get out of its spot in the basement as often as would be needed to keep the house clean. That would be daily, which of course is not possible, so why bother? Or so my thoughts usually go. We are a bit better with the broom, and given that most of the house is not carpeted, it is the tool most needed anyway.

Yesterday we had a gloomy weather day and had a hard time getting inspired to go anywhere or do anything. The cats were all out of food and cat litter, however, necessitating a trip to Target. Where a stroll down the home appliances aisle revealed one giant hunk of plastic after another, all of which seemed destined to be future landfill in far too short a time frame. (Though I do intend to take my broken vac to a repair/used vacuum shop I found, and give it away/pay them to take it off our hands.) These machines all talked a big game but left me feeling uninspired.

Until I spotted her:
She was different. Sleek, smart, and self-sufficient. Yes, this was my girl. Daily vacuuming? Sure, how about while you are out? Hardwood floors and carpet in the same room? No problem. It was time for Roomba to come home to Mama.



And the unexpected bonus? She babysits!
I was all set to have her clean A's room while we were at the park, but A was so entertained by her that we had to turn her off and save it for when we got home. So dinner was cooked while Adelaide and Roomba played in her room with the door closed.

I wonder what other sort of robots we could adopt. Maybe some sort of miracle device that would wash our dishes for us . . . if only such a thing were possible.

Overkill

If you read today's posts from the bottom up, they might make more sense. I was posting frequently today, hence the title of this (last?) post.

So, I realize this is potentially getting boring for the reader, who likely has more of a life than I do, but I had another go with a different picture. Got 90% female this time, so I guess it wasn't the eyebrows. Hairstyle, more likely. But a high correlation to an Olson twin is not good. And why just one twin? Do I not resemble the other twin?

http://www.myheritage.com/collage

A girl's girl

So, clearly I am out of the loop, but I haven't heard of the majority of these people. But unlike me, Adelaide only had 2 males matches, and one of them was Leonardo who apparently we are distant cousins with or something. I do see the Florence Henderson connection very clearly, especially when Adelaide is busy mothering her many babies.

I guess I have a little too much time on my hands today, but I am having fun playing with these toys.

Huh?

So, more than half of the matches for me were men. Okay, I can deal with that. And it's not the greatest picture of me or of Marcia, so I can deal with that, too. Do I get the Carl Sagan because I passed the post it to your blog IQ test? Is it my eyebrows? They are a bit overdue for some attention. At least Carl has a nice smile.

But, who is that last guy, and is this his mug shot? Do I have a mustache of which I wasn't aware?

Now I'm going to try Adelaide, see how she fares.

Potato Patch update

May 11th we went out and buried the potato plants that had come up, filling the trench to level. We can do this one more time, to increase our yield. The above photo is from before we covered the first growth.
Over the weekend, in the heat, we had about 4 times the growth we've had in the whole time we've had the potato patch. Here are the plants after they were buried and grew up again.Now all 3 rows have really filled in and I can mound over one more layer of soil. I am looking forward to watching what happens and figuring out the process of harvesting.
We are back to cold and rain but now that we've got such a good start I am not worried for the plants. Our tomatoes may be a different story!

Dunbar Look-alike Meter

Seems like, regardless of who looks like who, we all have a tendency to tilt our heads at the first appearance of a camera.

Preschoolers

King's Lutheran Preschool, circa 1974? 73?

Treat and retreat

I am spending the weekend on Orcas Island at a yoga retreat, soaking up some quality alone time and a break from the seemingly endless winter weather we have been enduring. Being alone and doing lots of yoga and soaking in the hot springs has given me time for reflection, and I am realizing that I have developed an unfortunate new habit. In my haste to make the most out of my free time, I am packing it full of stimulation to the point of sensory overload. Part of it has to do with a need for escape, immersing myself in a book or movie to shut out my busy mind or my daily grind. But part of it is some sort of feeling of desperation to have everything despite less time for it. I know this is part of why I get pretty nuts if I go too long without yoga -- I need the time on the mat to counterbalance this bad habit. When I am doing yoga I am not doing anything else, and I am consciously working to clear my mind from the internal dialog. Not always succeeding, but at least mindful that it is valuable to do so.

Here on Orcas I have been reading and I did watch a movie (and now I'm sitting with my laptop up and running), but I also have been spending some time filling my senses with the natural world. It was nice on my first day here to walk down the country road listening to music on my iPod and soaking up the sun and the picturesque surroundings, but how wonderful it was yesterday to walk and realize how much music was happening all around me. The sound of the creek that I couldn't see but knew was there under the trees and grasses. The soft whinny of the pony with a bird on its back waiting to snack on some flies. The branches and leaves whispering hello to the wind. And the birds, so many birds so busy with their springtime jobs.
On my ferry ride here I was thinking about my week and how much time I spend talking. I enjoy conversation, don't get me wrong, but lately I spend too much time talking in the absence of being listened to. It's inevitable given my jobs -- trying to get communication impaired kids to communicate and trying to raise a four year-old -- but it's exhausting. I am sick of talking. I would tell myself to shut it if that were an option for me. But being here and slowing myself down I am reminded how valuable it is to truly listen, to wait one's turn to talk, and sometimes to say nothing at all. I hope I can bring some of that home with me.

Three Wishes

Today we went to an upscale mall in my old neighborhood for Adelaide's summer haircut. Somehow she has a regular hairstylist while I still take my chances at random barber shops. But this is beside the point.

After her haircut we arranged to meet her dad for dinner at a restaurant conveniently located in the same upscale mall. Not our typical haunt, but food we can all agree on (sushi) with a gimmick to keep our younger family member entertained (conveyor belt with sushi choices zooming all around the restaurant and past your table).

Outside the restaurant there is a big fountain. Adelaide remembered it was there from another haircut trip. While we waited for our table and for Daddy to arrive, I gave her a coin to make a wish.

"Wanna know what I wished for, mom?"
"Do you want to tell me, or keep it a secret?"
"I want to tell you. I wished a really good wish. I wished that everybody's wishes will come true."

"That is a good wish, honey."
"Mom, do you have any more pennies?"
"Actually, I have the penny you gave me this morning, would you like to make a wish with it?"
"Yes."

Run to fountain. Toss in penny. Close eyes tight.

"Mom, want to know what I wished this time?"
"Sure honey."
"I wished that no one will have to die ever again."

Long discussion follows regarding death as part of life, dying being a sad but okay thing when your body is done living, etc. Most of the dialog coming from me, and most of the glazing over happening for her.

Later, after dinner, I come back from the car with her coat and find her and her dad at the fountain. He has given her a coin and she is making another wish. She tosses, I close my eyes, and wish that her wish is for a Barbie doll. Or a cupcake. Or to score a goal in soccer. Because I absolutely love her first two wishes, I really do, but I hope she saves that third wish for herself. For a little bit of joy. For a throw-away desire. For a childhood, childish, silly wish. Cause isn't that why we get three? Two for the important things for other people, and one just to keep for ourselves, for a little smile before we go home.

When I think about my wonderful child, I know that all of my wishes from all of my pennies from all of these years have been granted. And I have a smile on my face on my way home.

Hellooooo, Kitty!

The show "Wait wait, don't tell me" was particularly funny today. I was fortunate to have some time alone in the car and then even at home afterwards (hooray!) so I heard most of it. Some of the dialog was classic -- the commentators speculating about what Bush might do with a magic wand, for example. And how it might differ from what he was trying to do.

In one of their puzzles, they give three stories from the week's news, only one of which is true. They are all outrageous and oftentimes the most outrageous of the three is the truth. This week they talked about the discovery of some Hello Kitty Cocaine.
The funniest element to this story was the fact that they had a really hard time coming up with the fake news stories because they needed items that hadn't already had "Hello Kitty" on them. You would think it would be easy, right? Surely condoms would be safe. Um, nope.
Okay, how about an AK-47? That's about as
non-Hello Kitty as it comes, right? Wrong again. There are many choices of HK AK-47, in fact. Those were the 2 things they mentioned. When I started looking for images online, I found many, many frightening results. You can browse just as easily as I, I'm sure, but here are a few you don't want to miss. The HK molar (truly gross, sorry), which you might use to chomp
on the HK sausage pastry (even more disgusting).


Or pimp your ride with the HK car accesories, of which I am sure there are many. Like this exhaust pipe.

Or just go for a full-on, all HK, all the time car:http://jamiefan.com/?p=741

(this one has the most HK per cubic meter of anything I found, I believe)

How about converting your pet into an HK? HK?http://www.plasticbamboo.com/2007/07/27/hello-kitty-cat-hat/




There also seem to be many, many blogs and websites devoted to the love and hatred of HK.

I'd like to see what might happen if this guy (who describes his HK car as a "chick magnet" and needs what I call a "reality check"):http://serendipitously.wordpress.com/2007/08/08/hello-kitty-car-chic-magnet/
were to meet this guy (who seems to have devoted much time to weapons of mass HK destruction):

http://www.kittyhell.com/

His website contains an amazing array of HK: contact lenses, body art, appliances, a large variety of vehicles, the list goes on and on. I believe he may actually make a living on the HK phenomenon, and more power to him if he does. I think I might have some pretty serious nightmares if I spent too long looking at these kinds of images, though.

All in all, there appears to be a lot of talk for a kitty with no mouth.