Oh yes, telling names before the child is hatched is a great way to have a name you loved turned into a name you can't bear. When my youngest was still a bump, I thought to call him Jane, if he was a girl. It's a name I like a lot, has some nice diminutives if you like that sort of thing, isn't too fashionable, has good associations for me. Until we told my then mil, who would ask me, every single time we spoke or saw eachother, "And how's Jaaaaaaane?". Blah. Name removed from list.
When my oldest was born I wanted to name him Thomas Aurelius. His father wasn't so into it, but I must admit I still mentally think of him as Thomas Aurelius.
I think those are wonderful names, I only wish my parents had put as much love and thought into my own name (instead of naming me outright after my great-grandmother, and scoring a sort of evil name givers trifecta: doesn't suit, no-one can spell, first name rhymes with 'pees').
I note that young Poesy's first two given names are perfectly delightful, while her other given names, which are beautiful and inspired, will fly right under the radar of any idiot name-calling peers.
I think it's a beautiful name for a beautiful baby. Much happiness to the whole family.
I'm a clutterer too: my worst habit is "parking" things on horizontal surfaces, any and all horizontal surfaces.
On the other hand, I don't have a lot of junk, I'm not too bad at not bringing in stuff I don't care for, just lazy and low on nice storage.
I too can locate anything, and enjoy being able to find a thing for an expected need. On the other hand, I find the feeling that I don't have the whatsit and will have to wait until a trip to town (up to a week away), or that the book I want is in storage outside pretty frustrating and cranky making. I like having my stuff (books, toys, craft things) right where I can see it and use it. Rats like to touch things too.
I just finished re-reading 1984 this morning!
I have little birds in my attic, or at least in the roof. I see them very often dragging bits and pieces up there (spiderwebs, other feathers, lengths of yarn I leave out for them; today, a sprig of wormwood) and when we lie in bed, we can hear their babies squawking to be fed.
Merry Christmas everyone. The sour cream icecream is a-churning, my oldest son is playing with his permitted one early present, and of course it is cold today, and we have all hot weather food made and waiting. Happiness to all!
Four jobs you've had in your life: nurse, propagandist, embroiderer, scientific research slave.
Four movies you could watch over and over: Tampopo, The Village, A Knight's Tale, Marie Antoinette.
Four places you've lived: Sydney, Port Moresby, Canberra, Johannesburg.
Four TV shows you love to watch: Battlestar Galactica, Stargate SG-1, Gossip Girl, River Cottage.
Four websites you visit daily: ML, Google, Yarnstorm, Mollygood.
Four of your favorite foods: bacon, pumpkin soup, potato chips, nougat.
Four places you'd rather be: Earthsea, Antarctica, Tilba Tilba, Uppsala.
Four Books I love: Wilderness Tips, The Birthday of the World, Home Comfort, Freezeframes (Hmm, guess I really really prefer short stories to novels).
dcb @ 187:
I know, I read that part and groaned.
I really dislike the sort of behaviour inequality in those interactions, ie the cop/authority figure can be rude, aggressive, unreasonable, and the citizen must be polite and passive or be vulnerable to arrest or entasering.
ethan @ 183:
Goodness, I remember that happening in Sydney regarding shooting deaths. Seemed like they never happened, and when it did it was wildly newsworthy - gangland killings, or inexplicable drivebys, or crimes of passion, and then over time it got worse until just before I left Sydney and it didn't really impact anyone that there had been five or six people died within a few kms of where I lived. Yikes.
(And this is entirely unrelated, but I always smile when I see your name. My best friend in high school's little brother was named Ethan and he was gorgeous, so funny and smart [and he taught me how to pick filing cabinet locks with a paperclip]. Now he's a bushland regenerator and pulls out his mother's roses whenever he visits her.)
I hadn't thought of that, and it makes perfect sense. Thanks!
Paul A @ 168:
Goodness, I got those letters in entirely the wrong place. No wonder it didn't look right.
In other news, I just read about this: Unco-operative shopper, tasered by police.
Didn't someone die after being tasered just the other week? What's with all the tasering that's going on?
But I should mention that that much ground cloves, imo, is really way too much (and for the record, that I made a cake this afternoon, substituting 1/2 tsp ground allspice for the cloves, and I think that was too much, too).
I have a spice cake recipe here, from an ancient (not actually ancient, just old. '50s?) cookbook belonging to my mother, called something like Cooking the Scandinavian Way which is a testament to the indestructible nature of some recipes. This is the recipe:
Parson's Ginger Cake
2 eggs
6 1/2 oz sugar
1/4 pint sour cream
3 oz butter, melted.
5 oz SR flour
2 tsps cinnamon
1 1/2 tsps ground ginger
1 1/2 tsps ground cloves
Beat together the eggs and sugar until light and fluffy, and then add the butter and the cream. Fold in the dry ingredients. Bake in a buttered and lined or breadcrumbed pan for about 45mins at 375F. Allow to cool in pan, before turning out.
I have mis-made this recipe any number of times, misremembering the proportions of everything, using different spices, mis-converting the quantities, and every time, the cake is delicious. Different every time (that I mess it up), but still delicious.
Flying to Canada via Hawaii a year or two ago, I was subjected to some power mad petty beaurocracy (now that's a terrible word - looks wrong no matter what I do with it) at the hands of Homeland Security. I was travelling on an e-ticket, so didn't carry printouts with me (because everywhere [both in Aus and in Canada] else, having my passport and booking numbers was sufficient) and ran up against the wall of implacable unreasonable authority. How, I asked, did he think I got on the plane at Sydney, if I didn't have a ticket? He shrugs, doesn't care, pulls me out of the lines and I am separated from the rest of the passengers and made to wait while someone else gets my ticket stuff from my airline. While waiting, I discover that where I've been told to wait is apparently some kind of security risk, because seconds later some dead serious security guy is all over me wanting to know why I'm sitting there and he isn't inclined to be polite or patient. It was, frankly, terrifying. I am a fat, cardigan wearing Australian citizen! Do I really seem like a potential threat? or is just fun to bully people?
Jon H @36:
Looking forward to another Republican administration?
As I am not a US citizen, merely a compulsive quiz taker, my predilections matter not one whit.
Apparently I'm voting for Al Gore.
I have a thermal mug question. Here in the high country, I like to take a mug of tea with me if I'm going to be sitting outside in the cold somewhere for longer than an hour or so. I have a few thermoses and insulated mugs, but I prefer my tea with milk, and without exception, the tea tastes nasty from the plastic lined thermal device. I also like blackcurrant flavoured tea with some sugar, which tastes fine from the thermal things, but does anyone know of a thermal mug or flask that doesn't make tea with milk taste weird?
susan @ 824:
As another person with an estranged father, I'd ask someone (probably husband) to vet the card for me too. And good luck. Hope it's something that will make you happy.
I was delighted to realise this morning, that last night I dreamed about my guinea pigs (escaping from their cage again). Maybe small rodents dream about us going to nice cafes, or whatever makes us say wheeeeee! with happiness.
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| 2007 | 69 |
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