I've been caught up in Wives & Daughters (watching the miniseries AND reading the book) most of the weekend, so everything sounds British in my head. But I've been cooking quasi-Turkish, having discovered a spice blend that comes passably close the seasoning at that Turkish restaurant in Albuquerque. Baharat seasoning. Easy to make, tastes yummy. And Turkish, although it is still not to be compared to ransomedsea 's lamb. Thus continues my quest to eat my way around the world without leaving my kitchen.
Currently on facebook: an experiment in plovers, statii, and mysteriously changing friend counts.
It was 77* today but only 47* is predicted for tomorrow. But, having spent most of Friday going hither and yon (hither defined in this case as a town thirty miles away, and yon as another entirely different area, not a town but entirely in the middle of NOWHERE the same distance away but in the opposite direction) to find a car part that is outrageously expensive ordered from the dealership and outrageously cheap found in a salvage yard ... I have now forgotten completely where I was going with that sentence, or how it connected with the weather. At any rate. It is warm now, won't be tomorrow, and with any luck I should have Sir Galahad back in fully functioning form within a day or two. Also I stood up to salvage yard guys were all patronizing and trying to tell little old female me that I didn't need X, what I really needed was Z, and I was all OH NO YOU DON'T.
An acclaimed broadcaster and journalist, Jeremy Clarkson has hosted “Top Gear” since 1988. Born in the decade of the hippie, Jeremy has shunned free love and peace, preferring instead to drive around corners very fast, yelling “POWER” at the top of his lungs.
... I remember making Columbus Day decorations when I was young and hanging them about the house. I was a strange child. I seem to recall my creations as having something to do with the Niña, Pinta, and the Santa Maria. I liked to repeat those names, well, repeatedly, because I liked the way they felt in the mouth.
So hey, I spent my holiday mostly scavaging in salvage yards for car parts. Salvage yards are odd places. Random car bits scattered everywhere, no apparent rhyme or reason, but always with a mysterious and cranky old guy who somehow knows where everything is - this is a salvage yard. As I was telling my brother, during one of the interminable periods of waiting as one of the limping minions apparently walked a mile or two to see whether any of their junked Aleros had the parts I wanted, salvage yards should really hire librarians to keep track of their parts. After all, one of the main things we're good at is putting things away in an organized fashion and then being able to find them again.
I was mainly looking for a rim, which wasn't even one of the things damaged in the accident. But now that Galahad is off at the shop getting all fixed up, I felt like fixing everything, and I had a rim with a couple chunks missing. (This was Not My Fault. My dad did it!) Paying $200+ for a new rim seemed a little excessive, so I went on a scavenger hunt instead. Unfortunately for me, normal Aleros have five-spoke rims, and I'm one of the lucky elite to have a six-spoker. No, really, that's what they called it. I laughed too. That's what I get for buying the fancy version of the Alero, I guess.
So they're ordering one from some other salvage yard and I'll have to pick it up later this week. Which brings to mind a perplexing question: how do they ship auto parts, particularly large ones like that, and why did I only have to pay $7.50 in shipping?
[Edited for random adult brain-freeze moments]
Tomorrow I need to get my car tagged and licenced. I've been putting it off until the last minute, because I don't want to give up the Texas plate that's on it now. *sob* I liked driving around with 'foreign' plates! Especially from my home state.
I never did mention that I sold my other car, did I? It's gone now, and I'm a a bit richer. I didn't realize until it happened that I'd be sorry to see it go -- they drove it away while I was at work, and I felt like I'd been stabbed very gently in the heart when I realized that I didn't get to tell the Teddy Roosevelt goodbye. Silly, really, but I feel rather disloyal. It served me long and well and what did I do but up and buy a replacement and never give it a second thought. I didn't even clean my stuff out of it -- the boys did it for me! *sob sob*
I saw Pirates3. It was ... confusing. I spent much of the movie nudging Stacy and mouthing "what the heck just happened?!" It was good, though, much as I wish to quarrel with the ending. That is, it was okay. Not genius like the first, but I wasn't sorry to have seen it or anything of the sort.
Now I'm looking forward to Oceans 13. I hear rumors that it's back to the mood of Oceans 11, as opposed to the "unfortunate European interlude" that was Oceans 12. It's not that I disliked 12. But it wasn't 11.
It's been exceptionally stormy of late, and early this morning another line of storms came through. The wind woke me up at 5:30 and I knew rain wasn't far behind, so I got up and went about closing all the windows. In the process, I ran straight into the fireproof pad that our woodstove sits on, a brick-like object about an inch and a half higher than the carpet, and there, my friends, is where I broke my little toe. It hurt a LOT but I heroicly went on and closed the rest of the windows. Then I limped to my mother's room.
"Hey mom? I think I just broke my toe."
"My toe. It's broken. It hurts a LOT."
"I'm sorry, dear. Go back to sleep."
So I lay back in bed for another hour, in PAIN and AGONY, and when we get up she looks at it (swollen and black and blue) and pronounces that yep, it must be really broken. I limp dramatically as proof.
At 9:00 I picked up the soon-to-be-mine car and took it to my mechanic, who gave it rave reviews except for one vacuum hose that had slipped off. Back to the dealer, he takes it to his mechanic to fix the hose, I sit around and wait, he comes back, I sign fifty different things, he goes to the bank to fetch the title, I sign some more things, I write a check, and behold, I own the car, 100% free and clear and just barely make it to work by noon.
It's a God-thing, let me tell you. It's has insanely low miles, only one previous owner, and is absolutely beautiful. The radio tells me the title and artist of the songs that play. It's so roomy for a small car! I feel quite certain God wanted me to have this one, because the dealer bought it especially for a young girl, for her first car -- and she didn't buy it even though it was perfect because it wasn't red. Then another person tried to buy it, but their credit was bad and they couldn't get a loan. While I was sitting there in the office today, two more people called wanting to buy it, and a third couple stopped by in person. I felt so bad taking it away from all these other people who wanted it, and then again, I didn't feel the least bit bad. :)
As for the name -- My previous car was the Teddy Roosevelt, and a couple weeks ago, as I prepared to start shopping for a new one, I was thinking of good names and the very first thing that popped into my head was Sir Galahad. I couldn't figure out why; it's not like Galahad is one of my favorite characters or anything. No other names seemed to stick with me, however, and now I see why -- Galahad with his golden hair is a perfect name for this car. :)
Let's be clear -- if a broken toe is -800 points, a new car is +405,639,209,236,166,543.
My good blade carves the casques of men,
My tough lance thrusteth sure,
My strength is as the strength of ten,
Because my heart is pure.
The shattering trumpet shrilleth high,
The hard brands shiver on the steel,
The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly,
The horse and rider reel:
They reel, they roll in clanging lists,
And when the tide of combat stands,
Perfume and flowers fall in showers,
That lightly rain from ladies' hands. ...
.... So pass I hostel, hall, and grange;
By bridge and ford, by park and pale,
All-arm'd I ride, whate'er betide,
Until I find the holy Grail.
Miss ruthette, your box arrived today! Thank you ever so much! I have quite a dilemma, however, in deciding which book to start first. Thank you for including Beowulf, I'm very excited about that one! (Which reminds me, have you read The Song of Roland?) I shall take excellent care of the babies and not read them in the bath, nor carry them with me and let them bang about in my copious purses, nor drip coffee on their pages.
Fiskar was, perhaps, not a man worthy of much thought. He had never read a book. He had never written a line worth reading.
Let it be noted for the record that I do not like dickering, haggling, or otherwise negotiating prices. I'd be a lot happier if they told me a price and I said yes or no. I don't like not knowing what something might end up costing. I can't make plans that way! I don't like being told that "we're asking $15,000 but of course the manager will work with you on the price."
To everyone's great surprise, my own most of all, the front runner of what I've seen so far is a 2005 dark red Ford Focus 2-door hatchback. *gasps, etc.* Yes, me, the girl who hated the Focus. It's not what I expected to like at all. But something about it caught my eye.
AND it's fully loaded. Call me spoiled, but the car I have now, while old, was a luxury car in its day and had every feature that had already been invented. The thought of going back to manual door locks is simply unbelievable. Would you believe I even found a car with no cruise control? Yes, my friends, they apparently still exist.
Anyway, I was getting a tad discouraged that most of the cars I was being shown were the bare bones models, really quite unacceptable. This one has all the features I consider standard (power everything, etc.) , plus a sunroof (huge plus) a CD/mp3 player that holds 6 CDs, fold down rear seats, etc. I forgot to check if it had seatwarmers, though, darn it.
This is what it looks like, only in red: I don't know whether I think it's cute, or grandmotherly.
Here's one from the quote book that I love for its masterful use of the English language:
Owing to the fact that the shock had caused my tongue to get tangled up with my tonsils, inducing an unpleasant choking sensation, I found myself momentarily incapable of speech.
As a side note, I'm always nervous driving with my dad in the car. I don't know why he makes me feel inferior...except that he always thinks I drive too fast, even when though I purposely drive slowly when he's with me. I don't think he likes not being in control of the car. *grin*
The afternoon was spent making chex mix and listening to old speeches on CD -- Churchill, Truman, the Roosevelts, the Kennedys, Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret's speech to the children of England during the war. There's nothing like hearing history.
We've watched "What's Up, Doc?" twice already this weekend!
I am unsettled in my mind about some things; nothing serious, but I can't seem to shake it. In thinking about this, I decided that the reason I doubt a lot of life at the moment is because it all seems too easy. Ergo, something must be wrong.
Well, it seems logical to me.
PS: this long weekend, my main project (besides beginning to pack ohmygoshtimemovestoofasteeeeeekkkkkk) is reading. I brought seven books home with me from the library yesterday, several of them close to or exceeding the 1,000 page mark, and I know very well that there is NO WAY I can read them all, not even counting the ones I already had here, started, but I am going to give it my best shot. *deep breath* And I can't even take any with me to Boise, because they are all gigantic hardcovers, and means, oh, the horror, I must pack OTHER books to start on the plane, which will probably be the two Prachetts that I haven't read yet because I have them in paperback and maybe an obsure philosophy book I've been meaning to get to for ages.
I don't think musical comedy gets much better than that.
Today I spent more on two small items of, er, personal clothing than I did in buying a genuine leather coat AND two sweaters. Behold why I like shopping Goodwill better than department stores. =P Outrageous.
But...I bought a hat, which will hopefully not turn out to be a Mistake. I have never worn a hat before, but I've eyed this one for weeks now. It's soft (angora rabbit hair!) and see? It has a bow!
|It's useful for when I'm feeling shy.|
|Or just plain weird.|
And for the guys, who doubtless are completely uninterested in hats of any sort, this is the new Mercedes 450SLC. We call it the
Mo-car, so named because now dad can go out in the morning and go "eenie, menie, minie, mo" to pick which car he wants
to take to work. *facepalm* That doesn't even count my car. Trust me, this is not like my family. We are all astonishment
at how we have managed to collect five cars and only three licensed drivers.
I bought a pair of brown shoes during lunch, nice high heeled pumps, so now I match with my outfit. Hurray.
For the past two week I have been nagging myself to work on editing No Fear of Flying and have been putting it off and generally not feeling inspired enough to actually sit and work on it. Last night I dug it out, metaphorically speaking, and started reading...and it was something I wish I hadn't written so I could just sit down and enjoy reading it as a spectator. Some of the dialog was so...so much like something I would sit and read and re-read over and over if it were someone else's book. And probably painstakingly copy into my notebooks for future re-reading. I'm not saying it was spectacularly good. But it is something I like.
And I'm more in love than ever with Sonny, so between the two I think I'll be back to working at it with a vengence.
And finally: I have totally revamped my LJ layout, and I like what I've got although it'll take weeks to get everything perfect. But I have a question: in this style (gradient something or other) all those little boxes at the top that link to user info and archive and friends page and everything, is there any way to add text to the boxes saying what they link to? It's going to take me forever to remember which is which.
I like this new icon muchly.
Talk about a wasted hour. Some idiot in a white minivan in California, followed (very slowly) by five police cars. And I was utterly facinated even though it was 60 minutes of ariel footage of this van going...and going...and going...and commentators saying things like,
"Well, Bob, the suspect may be armed or he may not be, we just don't know."
"This chase has been going on at 70 miles an hour....and 45 miles an hour...and 20 miles and hour...and sometimes 0."
And, the best of all:
"What do you think is going on in the suspect's mind?"
Dude. Who cares? And yet I watched in case someething exciting might happen--especially after they put it on a ten second delay so that if he killed himself it wouldn't be on live television.
Edit: I finally found out how it ended. From foxnews.com:
A man suspected of attempted kidnapping was captured Tuesday after a freeway chase and standoff that ended when sheriff's deputies tossed a grenade into his van and a police dog dragged him from the smoke-filled vehicle.
Man. Why couldn't that have happened while I was watching?
It is also a good day because I am driving the new family car. Whether it becomes "my" car depends on if my mechanic-uncle thinks my car is worthy of overhauling and revamping, but as long as he has my car with him in Kansas to work on, I get to drive this beautiful metallic grey Concorde, with leather seats, a great sound system, and a SUN ROOF, which is one of the all time things I never expected to find in a car my parents bought.
I like it. Yes indeed.
*plays with the keyless entry remote*
Also, it's flag day today and I didn't even know until two minutes ago.
Anyone else have any brilliant suggestions?
*sigh* I'm going to go drink coffee now.
Wow. Freaky, freaky. I bet my dad freaked too, when I called and started the conversation by saying, "Smoke coming out of the wheel well on the car isn't a good thing, is it?" I went down to the grocery store for something, and thought something felt odd with the car on the way...but decided it was my imagination (as things like that usually are). When I started smelling something hot, and then saw SMOKE, I got pretty frightened. Thankfully the smoke didn't start until I was almost where I was going, which is good because the road down there has *no where* to pull off. I made it to the mechanics shop, where the nice man told me a...um...some car-inclined guy help me out here! Something to do with a caliper, which Chrysler very stupidly made out of plastic instead of metal, meaning that this happens a lot. Like, they get hot and melt and start little fires.
WHICH IS NOT GOOD WHEN YOU ARE A LONE WOMAN WITH LITTLE CAR EXPERIENCE!!
But, I lived. Dad came and got me and schlepped me home. The car is in the shop, and I left a notebook in it which I dearly hope the mechanics won't read. ROTFLOL. If I'm lucky, it'll be fixed by tomorrow noon, so mom and I can use it to go to Tulsa.
Luck? What am I talking about?! It's not luck. Although it was scary, it happened at the best time, actually. It didn't happen earlier in the day when mom and I would have been stuck in town. It didn't wait to happen until tomorrow when we would have been stuck in Tulsa. It didn't start to smoke until I was close enough to get to the mechanics. God is good. He protected me from a burning car. =)
After I got home the adrenaline left and I was Very Tired and Shaky. (See, it was scarier for me because I have a profound fear of fire burning up my house and car!) I did finally go play badminton with my youngest brother. He's a good player, especially for being nine...as good as I am. (Maybe that doesn't say much?) And it was a good reason to get some actual exercise. I'm pitiful at that. Sometimes I think it'd be good if I had a bit of a weight problem, so I'd be motivated to exercise. If you stay at your ideal weight no matter if you exercise or don't, eat tons of ice cream or don't....yeah. I feel badly about it, too, because I'm afraid my mother and friends who aren't like this don't think I can understand their problems. oh well.
Um, where was I? Oh. It was a fun game until one of the dogs joined in. She seemed to think it was her own personal entertainment, meaning she WANTED THOSE BIRDIES. So it became an interesting game of Badminton-Obsticle Course [Keep From Tripping Over the Dog and For Goodness Sake Don't Let Her Chew Up The Birdie!]
I was just reading through some of my old posts, and noticed how terribly often I use parentheses (sorry! Lol) and...oh my, some simply awful spelling errors. Again, my apologies. I just often don't take the time for spell check.
Another eventful day. In the evening the SSG turned out another fairly successful performance...it irritated me greatly that a number of people showed up to sing who haven't been to the practices in weeks. It showed. =P **can't stand people singing off key** All in all it wasn't too bad, though. Still, we need to do a lot better when we record our CD this summer (late June is what it looks like now.) Maybe the music teacher Ruth hired to work with us leading up to that will put the fear of God in them.
Speaking of recording, it sounds as if we'll be doing it at our church. I was hoping for the real studio experience, but he's not sure he can fit us all into his studio! Oh well. It's just that I've worked on the side of the glass with all the amazingly dials and switches, and I hoped for the chance to be on the singing side. =)
Someone came back to visit who'd been gone nine months. I was so glad to see him again...he helped introduce me to Tolkien and is, in fact, one of the few fantasy admirers that I knew in person. Of course, to cement the bond, he's the one who gave me the baking stone as a graduation present last year. So when I found out he was coming back, I baked up some of my best "French bread Marie style" (um, sort of like an Italian peasant version) to give to him. Yummy.
Oh, I got called a mystic today. (Um!?) And was told I was really pale...again. Sorry, I can't help it. At least he added that I didn't look ill, since I have such ruby colored lips (which amazingly are naturally that way.) And I sang the word "repine" three times during the evening, which amuses me. Also amusing was the effect we had on the audience: some were, apparently, very touched and cried through most of the service. What seemed like an equal number were asleep. The rest were either indifferent or hiding their emotions very well. Including, unfortunately, one person whose thoughts I would have loved to know...
Mom's surgery is tomorrow. Um...I'm not sure how I feel. Lots of my worries have been relieved by my meeting with her doctor; still surgery is surgery. I guess I won't know how neurotic I will be about it until tomorrow.
I have too much to do. I can't decide what should take priority so I end up only doing what's necessary. It's discouraging. Part of it must be my mixed up mental state. I can't wait until things get back to normal.