Praying. I do not know either Scraps or Velma, but they are clearly much-beloved, and multiple strokes are no damn good. I hope, I hope for the best.
In my (unusually for Portland) well insulated house, we haven't turned the heat on yet -- although we've gotten close, and we have started looking for excuses to use the oven. We winterized the garden on Monday and now have a bucket full of green tomatoes, waiting to be fried or pickled or turned into relish.
I bike in Portland, OR, where it's fairly easy, compared to other places in the states, and while this kind of urban riding is less conducive to contemplation, I find it very satisfying to get out into the world a couple of times a day.
I also walk as much as possible -- my philosophy is that if I need to get there fast, I'll bike. But if it's 2 miles or less, and I've got the time, I can walk perfectly well. This means I often walk to my nearest "main street" about a mile away, where the shops and restaurants are, and on the weekends, my partner and I walk to the grocery store about 2 and a half miles away.
We just got our first motorized vehicle (a scooter, and a precursor to the eventual car), and it's fun, but it just doesn't beat person-powered transport.
@Joyce, #18 - give the cycling a shot sometime, if you haven't. I've seen plenty of middle-aged women in the lanes. (Being a twentysomething woman myself, I am perhaps less cautious about such things, but not as much as one might expect.) I'd be willing to provide advice, if you wanted.
It may be midsummer elsewhere in North America, but here in the Pacific Northwest the June is often more like spring, giving credence to the calendar's markings. Today was cool enough I had to dig out a wool sweater and put socks on. Spits and bursts of rain competed with sunshine all day. We're going to watch Firefly tonight and celebrate the solstice with champagne.
Joy! Croissants all 'round, and happiness & light to Verlaine and her family.
Oh, I was hoping for an open thread!
My sweetie linked me to a post on a rationalist blog about online communities and comment moderation. It struck me as having some in common with ML's theory of comment moderation, specifically, that this community supports intelligent, well-reasoned, and/or kind comments and actively discourages those that take away from the conversation (or are just plain mean). I think that contributes greatly to this being a pleasant, fun, joyful community to lurk in and sometimes participate in.
(Note: the opinions presented in that post or that blog are not necessarily reflective of my own.)
Debra @3, they're near the DFW airport -- Flower Mound, precisely.
Many years ago I was down in northern Texas on a Christmas Eve. For some reason that escapes me
Having slept very little, I initially read that as one sentence. I am currently in an airport, trying to get to northern Texas. And while I want to see my parents, there is certainly a part of me that is convinced my reason has escaped me, to be sitting (potentially futilely) in this snow-covered airport, trying to make a flight on Christmas Eve.
(I'm practicing not lurking. This is, I think, my second comment.)
For the last four years, my social circle has been coming together every Monday evening to eat a meal and read aloud. Initially the focus was on the reading, then the food was added, and slowly other rituals have accumulated, including announcements of upcoming events. About twelve people participate on any given week, although the group is more than twice that large.
This event, I firmly believe, is primarily responsible for the closeness of our community, which is remarkable. Few of my peers seem to have close, supportive friend groups of this nature, although they do have friends. Some of the people in the group have moved to Portland from elsewhere to participate in the kind of closeness and community that we've achieved.
Regardless of the bragging I could do on my friends (they really are wonderful people), the simple act of sitting down to eat with the same(ish) folks on a regular basis is an anchoring, comforting, secure act.
The combination of coffee, Colgate shaving cream and Dial soap -- my father kissing me good-bye each morning when he went off to work, when I was a kid. (Also his mildly bad breath.)
A certain smell of water on mulch brings to mind my grandmother watering her rather large garden. It doesn't happen in Portland; it rains too much here.
When I was little, both sets of grandparents owned 1970s diesel Mercedes sedans (what I wouldn't give to have one of those cars today). There is a smell in those cars that I don't experience very often, but it makes me feel very small, and recalls the feeling of slipping around in a dress and tights on the leather seats.
I made granola this morning, and pies and stuffed squash this weekend.
I'm making myself a sweater, slowly as usual.
Even more slowly, I'm making a rag rug, which is tremendously satisfying as long as it lies flat.
Oh, I've never been so happy to see a blog before, lurker that I am. Thank you for all your hard work getting this back up and running. May your rest be sweet and your backups sweeter.
| Year | Number of comments posted |
|---|---|
| 2009 | 7 |
| 2008 | 6 |
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