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Oh, this so is awful
We are expecting a winter storm; the alert is a "warning" and not a "watch". I am so thrilled because the kids will be home from school - I'm just calling the closing right now and giving up hope. I guess I need to hurry out and buy a huge roll of duct tape to keep them in control.
East Noble has NO two-hour delay
Ack! It seems like the conditions are right for a 2-hour Big D but, no, there is not one. West Noble is delaying, but not Central and the DeKalb schools are going as usual. It is quite cold and the wind is blowing.
Oh, rats! Today is that totally awful Wednesday high school schedule which includes a built-in 30 minute delay. It throws off all schedules, especially if you have a middle schooler in your house. We do. I feel feisty about this Wednesday thing.
Mystery Science Theater 3000 at Redbox
Woo-hoo! I have rented
Invasion at Redbox. Nicole Kidman is in it but it's viewer rating is a C+. Now if I can get Tom Servo to make the popcorn and Crow to bring the soda, we'll be all set.
Website home of above picture is
HERE.
Still another ornament
This is a reindeer Cameron and I made in first grade. He's a 9th grader now.
Pepsi products for game day
From the west side, looking east
From the west side, looking east.
Ah, another Sunday, another porch sitfest
I am in the same corner of the sofa and there is still snow on the overgrown shrubs that shield the windows, making this seem like a cabin in the forest. I doubt, though, a cabin would have so many windows as this converted porch, so we will just pretend a little here.
No football today, which I don't really mind. Maybe I will find a DVD to watch - a movie I have already seen so I can let my attention wander and do other things, but not miss any of the plot and be sure to be present for my favorite scenes. Do we have 55 Days at Peking in the house?
There is a cat in North Carolina named Henry and he has a blog; we found out about him when we were posting about Tom Coughlin and frostbite and mistakenly referred to his site as "four dirty paws" instead of "four dainty paws". Actually, come to think of it, dainty seems like a feminine adjective for the most part. Well, it is of no consequence.
Henry of the dainty paws suggested that Sydney start a blog of his own. Sydney says he's going to pass on that and will rely on me to pass on anything noteworthy. It is not that he wishes to be a dog of mystery, but that with him, still water runs deep. Oh, he gets really excited and can be pretty bossy, but he holds things close to his heart - though his eyes and nuzzle are so dear tears can come to your eyes . . . and a tightness in your throat.
We love you, Sydney; please stay with us a long, long time.
Memory ornament
This is Quentin in kindergarten, I think - or maybe first grade.
And this is Quentin the last time he was here; he had been missed.
Another ornament - Jakes
I forgot to look and see what J.A.K.E.S. stands for; that is, I forgot to look again. I looked once but I can't remember. Anyway, maybe it is a secret since it involves our dear Jakey whom we dearly love, but who does have a tendency to run afoul of the law. Jake has many entrepreneurial enterprises and often does his own law work. Maybe we will post a picture of the Jakester quite soon.
Dale Coventry and Jamie Kunz - Lawyers let innocent man rot in jail
Yikes! This should get your blood boiling. Watch this
youtube video. Two attorneys knew a man, ALTON LOGAN, was innocent because their client had confessed to them. But they said because of client privilege, they could not let the court know. The other man went to jail for 26 years. Jesus Christ!
Read about it
HERE and
HERE.
What kind of code of justice is this? Would not it have been a more ethical decision to be disbarred rather then to let a man be sent to jail for a life sentence?
Here's a question: What else do Dale Coventry and Jamie Kunz know? What do all the lawyers in the US know about innocent people?
So what dork is doing this? O(h)
Some things I skim over and Dorko was one of them; that's the last name of the new head guy at Lutheran Hospital. Then I saw it again . . . and it registered. Now, I feel for this man, I really do. I know he is a very successful man, and no doubt quite well off financially. I don't know how old he is or when the term "dork" entered the vernacular, but it is probably not something is is happy about.
Excuse me, I am going to do a Google search. Ah, here it is - a reference to the word:
DORK, and here is part of that entry verbatim:
Dork is a term used to describe someone who has unusual interests and is, at times, silly or stupid. A dork can also refer to someone who acts on his own motives without caring about his peers' opinions. The term occasionally implies stupidity, though perhaps less often than it once did, and it can paradoxically imply an unadmirable (bookish, academic) intelligence, much like the terms "nerd" and "geek."
. . . The adjectival form of dork is dorky, a word that was mainstream enough by 1971 to appear in a Peanuts comic strip
Oh, that 1971 mainstream reference means he has been dealing with it for some time; maybe it is the reason for his success. I know, I know, it probably represents a proud family - quite possibly of Dutch descent. There is nothing wrong with Dorko as a last name, not really. But, gee, it does kind of take you by surprise in a headline. He could have taken a French bent and changed the spelling to Dorkeaux and moved to Louisiana; heck, that kind of sounds like a name in a novel:
The dew lingered on the vines growing along the edge of the veranda where the morning shade kept the sun's heat at bay. Mr. Dorkeaux always took his coffee there when weather allowed, often gazing across the lawn that rolled down to the river where Suzanna had first climbed in the boat that eventually spirited her away.
Ever so polite detectives had come and asked questions, left, returned and finally disappeared into the the same river mist that had closed in on the scene all those years ago. Suzanna Dorkeaux had become one of the wisps of Southern family history who every now a then appear in shadowy form on the outskirts of a evening lawn party. It was whispered that her travels - as Mr. Dorkeaux referred to them - had taken her to places where she could find no rest, no peace. And so, she was drawn back to her marriage home - Dorky Park.
Oh, no, no, no, no, nix that idea.
Of course, as I said, Joe Dorko has done well for himself.
Maybe my last name should have been Bozo.
Charley
This is Charley, the trolley. He got the name Charley when Quentin was little; he misheard the trolley word and so Charley was initiated into our world. Charley used to run around a little tiny railroad, but over the years lost his track . . . or we lost track of it. He stayed for a long time in the china cabinet and on my bookcase, and then I took it into my head to put him on the tree in the sitting room.
He has the job of taking the elves back and forth between the beach and cliffside resort where they spend the off-season.
I'm hot on his trail . . . following the crumbs
Yes, it is I, Maxwoo, seeking the elusive Tasty Boy. Anyone having any information on his whereabouts can contact me at maxwoo@chomp.com.
I seek him there; I seek him here . . . I seek him everywhere.
Another ornament - Tasty Boy, er gingerbread man
Hi there,
I'm the Gingerbread Man. Jody was going to write about me and how sweet I look hanging on the tree. Then she saw the way the camera captured my facial expression and she is backing away slowly. By the way, it only appears as if I am carrying a bat; that is the side view of a flat ornament behind me.
Do I look a wee bit bent out of shape to you? I am. I am tired of Maxwoo and her insatiable appetite for my kind, as she calls us - Tasty Boys.
Jody was going to say how much she enjoys putting me on the tree and watching the lights reflect on my copper. She tucked me away for the year all comfy in a folder paper towel, gave me a little kiss even, but now she is considering resting something heavy on the lid.
Foolish old lady, I have already escaped.
Tom Coughlin and his secret frostbite
What is going on here? I have had tons of unexpected hits all because of Tom
Coughlin and frostbite and my post yesterday. I saw that statistic and, thought, "Oh, wow, there is going to be a lot of stuff out - pictures and articles.
But no. One article mentioned the number of Google searches for information on Tom
Coughlin and his frostbitten or red face; no article (that I can find) is satisfying my mind that wants to know. Am I going to have to go to the grocery store and wait for the tabloids at the check-out to show me pictures of "the face"?
I looked at images on Google - nothing, except
Coughlin yelling in other games. I looked lots of places - nothing.
For Heaven's sake, was the increasing redness a code indicating the time and place of the Invasion? No, wait, that was something about Normandy and radio and monotonous languor - and it was 64 years ago.
Was there an image of the Virgin Mary appearing on his face? Probably not, that would have garnered news coverage. Image a group of nuns gathering at the sidelines.
Is Tom
Coughlin a medical experiment gone awry . . . and now it's cover-up time?
He should have taken
Aikman's advice and covered up early in the game.
Ah, well, nothing to do but wait for the face-off in Arizona.
Taking down my favorite tree
This is the tree in my sitting room; it is artificial, so sometimes I forget to take it down. It is my favorite tree because it has the traditional lights and my favorite ornaments . . . because most of them have a special place in my heart. Usually I have to tie it to the window latches so it won't fall over; this year I used red ribbon because I forget to bring up twine and the ribbon was there.
The one below is the little blue-sequined angel; I'm fairly certain she came from a rummage sale. She reminds me of my good friend Andrea (aka Feisty) although Andy has long pig tails and carries a bunch of seashells with her. It is comforting for me to know part of the Feisty spirit is on the tree, doing her little dance and being festive.
Cub Factor: Will it predict SuperBowl winner?
Let's see, to find the future winner, you add up the number of former Cub's players on each team. Oh, wait, this is football. Easy mistake, both words have ball in them. Okay, how many players on each team have mothers who rooted for the Cubs? Yeah, that should do it.
Tom Coughlin's face - frostbite?
Last night during the game when the Green Bay Packers were playing "those other people", I noticed that Tom Coughlin, coach of "those other people", had a really red, chapped-looking face. Actually, one of the announcers even commented on it during the first quarter.
This morning I got up and Googled Tom Coughlin and frostbite face and saw that two other bloggers were thinking the same thing.
Blades of Blue and
Henry's Travels. Henry, by the way, must be a cat because the address of the blog contains the phrase "four dainty paws" and there is a picture of a cat in the profile box.
UPDATE: For some reason, I read "dainty" but typed "dirty." Henry left a message about my error and Oh, Henry, I am so sorry . . .
On the porch, sitting on the sofa . . . and with chilled feet
On my butt - that’s where I am. Sitting here typing because otherwise I would just be sitting here. Not that there is so much wrong with that, but I am unhappy with it tonight. However, I am not getting up, which should tell me something about my character.
Watching Green Bay and the Giants; it’s halftime and the four sports guys with different strategies on keeping their heads warm. One guy has no hat and closely cropped hair - not smart; Bradshaw has a stocking cap on which looks a lot better than the beret he was wearing pre-game; Howie has the bomber hat on he wore some years ago at another super cold game and Jimmy Johnson has a band that goes around his forehead and neck, covering his ears. Well, you know how he likes to have his hair just so.
There is a new show coming on - they’re advertising it now, To Tell the Truth. A new show to humiliate people. It follows American Idol. I see a trend of yuckiness here.
Halftime is over; Giants at their own 31.
I wonder if the team I root for is doomed to lose. Poor Packers, then.
Never mind about my chilled feet.
I turned the game off
I'll bet you just thought I only saying I was going to turn the TV; well, I did it - Tom Brady is not on my screen. I think I can feel my blood pressure going down. I hope so. Well, that's it. Sydney is eating his supper and I can hear the crunches as he gobbles down the actual dogfood as well as the ground chicken, ground beef and rice.
Oops. Crisis . . . the bowl is empty.
Sydney, stop wolfing your food.
Why am I watching this?
The Patriots and the Chargers. The latter has been in a position to score two touchdowns and has come away with two field goals. And the Brady bunch, they have two touchdowns. I have noticed the Patriots are really hitting Rivers' leg - you know, the one that was injured.
That's it - the Patriots intercepted a Rivers' pass. Arggggghhhhh, I am turning this off.
So the folks in Georgia thinks it's cold
This is what happened in the back vestibule; I guess we'll just lick our sparkling water.
This
Cold and cold and lots of cold . . . oh, so much cold
-2°F
Feels Like
-20°F
That's from weather.com; no wonder the little green car started and then stopped - the old diesel fuel is probably like jello-0. Ha! Let's see anyone try to siphon that.
Oh, yeah, it's cold out there.
The dog will only eat on the porch
That doesn't include begging for human food - he will do that anywhere, pretty much. Hey, come to think of it his "dog food" is mostly human food: browned ground chuck, browned buffalo burger, chicken and rice. Oh, and the meat are throughly drained and patted after being browned. There is a small bit of Purina One for sensitive digestive systems added in for vitamins; he actually chows down food sold in the store for table food.
He won't eat it in the kitchen. I stood there today washing glasses and cookie sheets and whatnot and his dish was close by and no one else was in the house, but he would not eat - even though I had warmed his food in the microwave. So, when I was done, I warmed it again and carried it out to the porch where he has become accustomed to eating while I sit on the sofa, laptop on lap. He ate it. Well everyone needs a place where they feel comfortable, where they have a regular spot and everyone knows his name.
Hey, Norm . . . wait, I mean Sydney.
Well, this is a great note
My grandmother, Jessie Shimp, nee Wisler, used to say this when something out of the ordinary happened, usually something that would cause a complication or outright trouble. She was born in 1881 and I don’t think she ever said, “Well, this is a Hell of a note.” I think I first said the great note phrase when I pretty little; I remember my mother remarking, “She heard that from Mom.”
A lot of things are “a great note” around here these days, from Hillary Clinton to routine family things.
At least the dog is a nice guy.
Cold . . . but can it be? The sun?
The sign at the bank at the turn to the hospital on Sawyer said it was 14˚ this morning sometime between 6:15 and 6:30. It was cold enough that frost formed inside the little green car and on the rearview mirror. (When I was a little girl, my ears heard "review" mirror, as in review where you have been. Made sense then. Heck, it makes sense now . . . unless you are backing up - so never mind.) Back home, I decided it as time to have a fire because it was . . . yes, cold. Wood outside on a pile is very cold, too, especially if you are not wearing gloves.
Now, at 8:21 am, I am sitting in front of said fire, but with shoes on. I think shoes, especially heavy ones that have been out in the cold, can get in the way of fully enjoying a fire. Actually, it's a bit like having cement "L's" on your feet.
CLUNK ....... CLUNK. That would be the sound of my shoes dropping to the floor if it were not carpeted. As it is, the sound is more of a THUNK. Freed from being encased in what felt like solid blocks of concrete, my toes stretch out toward the heat. Ahhhhh. Yes.
Oh, we need more wood . . . Should have thought of that before "thunking". *
* to thunk: to let one's shoes fall from feet to a carpeted floor; past tense of to think in some circles.
WAIT!! The word sun* was in the title of this post, so, yes, sun is predicted for a good part of the day.
* sun: object in sky rarely seen this winter in Northern Indiana.
Come on, big guy, mosey on out
There is a video
here of a moose being rescued from a lightly frozen lake. He makes it, and you've probably seen it because it has been in the headlines of internet news, but I just wanted to keep a reference to it here.
I am not on the porch, but if I were
When I'm out on the porch and look down at the floor in front of where I am sitting, I see this needlepoint footstool. Gotta love the cow. I picked this up at a Goodwill store; it was a real nice fine - made my day.
In fact, I hate to put my feet on it , but in the end, I do; the cow doesn't mind and it makes balancing my laptop much easier.
Oh, speaking of laptops, Apple just introduced the Airbook . . . for about $1,800. ACK!!!
Well, folks, it's a cold day and I'm in the den
Yes, I am. I am sitting here looking at the fire I built. Can't you just feel the warmth! Oh, five inch penalty for taunting - I have to move back five inches. Damn refs.
When I do see more of the fireplace area, I notice clutter:
Well, I suppose that's all right since they say a neatly kept house is the sign of convention-bound, dull person. Or is it a lazy one. Hmmm . . .
Monday morning and it is cold and January
This is not a surprise; it is happened before - several times in my life, actually. It was cold out in the diesel at 6 am, getting it started and defrosted for a trip to take Alison to work. But I didn't mind it so much - the little glow plug light was orange and then went out and when I turned the key, the engine responded with a healthy chug, chug, chug. There was no doubt about it, no thought of deciding, "Oh, heck, Jody, it's too cold for me to do this . . . I'm just going to stop all this foolishness and let my parts rest." But it was steadfast, doing its job. Oh, Little Green Car, I love you.
oh rats
So, the Colts lost and since I don't know anything about football, I am not going to say anything. Does that say volumes?
The Decoy from Illinois on the Mississippi
This is a decoy that my father-in-law, William A. Vance jr. gave me one year because he knew I liked rustic things with a history. He found it in a shed or barn or basement or whatever located on his property on the Mississippi River, just south of
Nauvoo, the place from which the Mormons left to go to Salt Lake City. Joseph Smith, the religion's founder, was hung there, mob-fashion, and the rest decided it was best to head out.
Football today? Probably not for me.
People have been planning on watching the games; people have asked me about watching the games. This year I am just not interested in sitting there rooting for a team that will lose. I have a feeling that no matter which team I root for, they will lose. Right now, it's easier to just skip the Cubs-like heartbreak.
For some reason, this reminds me of what has come to be known as
"The Heidi Game". One little tidbit is that irate fans mailed NBC Heidi dolls with "injuries".
I'm Saying Dam Again
After checking out some information on the South Fork Dam that gave way and flooded Johnstown, Pa. in 1889, I started thinking about the St. Francis Dam - although I couldn't remember it's name and had to look it up by referencing Mulholland. It
collapsed in a spectacular and deadly fashion two years after the 1926 dedication and released a 2.8 mile long lake which roared toward the ocean. At this site, pdf files can be opened to look at the reports about and impact of the dam collapse. One pdf discusses reassessment of the dam failure and includes this photograph:
At the
St. Francis Dam Disaster site you can access quite a bit of additional information, including this paragraph:
Built by the Los Angeles Bureau of Water Works and Supply, the St. Francis Dam Disaster was the greatest American Civil Engineering failure of the 20th century when it collapsed on its first filling. As a result of the dam's failure 1,200 homes were damaged, 909 were totally destroyed, 10 bridges were washed out, power was knocked out over a wide area and the communities of Castaic, Piru, Fillmore, Bardsdale, Santa Paula and Saticoy were paralyzed. An exact death toll is impossible because the bodies of many victims were washed out to sea with the floodwaters, but more than 450 people perished that night. It is California's second largest disaster; only the San Francisco Earthquake and Fire of 1906 claimed more lives.
Dupont's CEO has blog
Well, you start something and it's kind of fun and then you think, "Oh, I don't know, do I really want to do this? Can I really say what I want to say . . . remember, it has to be in my corporate voice."
Mike Schatzlein, CEO of Dupont Hospital down on, yes, Dupont Road in Fort Wayne began to
blog recently. I stumbled across his first couple of entries when I was researching CarePages at Dupont and left a comment that I thought it was great he was blogging, or something along that line. I interviewed Dr. Schatzlein way back before Dupont opened and even got a nice tour of the building, which explains why I actually took notice of his blog in the first place.
I can still remember sitting in his temporary office talking about the hospital and I remember the PR people hurrying over to sit in on the interview. (Say, he was supposed to invite me to the opening, but I never received an invitation. Shoot! Think he forgot? Maybe he didn't like the finished article. Hey, I thought it was pretty good and complimentary. Okay, let me step back from the emotion.) I enjoyed learning about Dupont's aims and talking to Dr. Schatzlein about his career and change of focus from the practice of medicine to administration.
He first used the Jarvik 7 in Fort Wayne. (I THINK that is what he said.) Now he has written a post about Robert Jarvik and his commercial endorsement of Lipitor, which Mike and I both take - he says rather than cholesterol his primary reason is more because of "its mystical life-prolonging and mood-enhancing effects". I started taking it for my cholesterol, learned about the possible connection with overall lifespan benefits, but did not realize it was supposed to help my mood. If it does, maybe I have a really, really grumpy baseline. Or, perhaps, he means for it to be interpreted to mean a heightening of moods, i.e. better rages, funkier tantrums, more powerful pouting?
On with it. So I saw the Jarvik post today - but it was written/published on December 6, 2007; it was his 8th post. The next two posts were on the 16th of that month and the next and last post was on January 6, 2008. I read through all his posts and, my gosh, Evan Bayh's wife got $700,000 for serving on Anthem's Board? Ack! that is a lot of money. Sorry for that little diversion, my comment was going to be that he refers to having basically two readers in his second December 16 post, which talks about the frequency of his posting. He said he thought it would be weekly; daily wouldn't work. He figured it would be like a Sunday column and he told a nice little story about playing church basketball in 5th & 6th grade. I liked that. He didn't post again until January 6th. Of course, I hadn't checked in during this entire time, although I had thought about it. The thing was I had gotten caught up in a few of theCarePage stories.
I wonder . . . He writes very well and is, of course, very intelligent - did you know he fools around with computer innards, kind of like a surgeon? - so does he feel that he can't be himself in the blog, has to watch what he says. Heck, that would be a burden. Maybe he didn't think the blog thing through; I don't know.
What I do know is I would like to hear more of his opinions - because he's no dim bulb - and more of his personal stories - because I just plain out like that type of thing.
Remember the Johnstown Flood of 1889?
More accurately, I should ask: Remember hearing about the Johnstown Flood of 1889? I have always thought it a compelling story, but over the years, I have come to be most fascinated not by the mass of water that barreled down the valley, but by the dry lake left behind. This morning while doing a little history researching type of thing, I found a
site where an apparent railroad buff had posted pictures of trains in Pennsylvania. Down at the bottom of the page was this picture.
Photographer: Tony Kimmel
Location: South Fork, PA
Date: October 21, 2007
Description: Three blue 80MACs bring a train northbound through the former lake Conemaugh.
So, the resort homes would have been along the treeline and that low-lying grizzled area is the original lake bed, which, of course, was previously an original low-lying grizzled area.
Go
HERE to see information on David McCullough's book about the flood. Some photos from the Library of Congress are
HERE.
Saturday movies
While a lot of people will be watching football today; maybe I will watch later. I don't know. I just looked at the TV guide on Yahoo and see that The Far Country is on now, followed by Bend of the River. So, I am watching.
I like it out here on this porch with windows on three sides and overgrown shrubs outside them; it feels a little like a cabin, although I'd like a fireplace. I have a nice DVD fire and a little heater) but only one TV out here; maybe I should set up another one in a fake with some bricks around it and play the fire DVD on it. Hey, you laugh and sure it may be tacky but I'm not so sure it wouldn't be soothing. Something to think about.
The Far Country is set in the Yukon Territory - gold prospecting with Jimmy Stewart and Walter Brennan. It looks rough and damp and not all that comfortable and probably is smelly - wet wool and all that, especially sweat. I don't hanker to climb in the screen and be part of it. Now if they were filming inside a cozy warm cabin with lots of firewood and lots of food and some books to read. Jody, think this through . . . how long can you look at the fire, listen to the wind and be satisfied with feeling cozy? Really to get the most of it, you have to go outside and be cold to the bone and tired. I think this is beginning to sound like the old hit yourself over the head with rocks because it feels so good when you stop.
Still, I don't know about this Indiana gig . . . Still, there is something about the sound of "The Far Country" and "Bend of the River." Maybe it has a twang of tomorrow to it, a feeling of daily ruts all behind.
42 Degrees
I don't know about this. Do you know what 42˚ is going to do here? Melt the snow and show the grungy yard around the house, not to mention the vestibule will no longer be the the Great Cooler between refrigerator cool and freezer solid. This may be a day for pictures that could inspire (shame) me into venturing out in little periods of time to actually pick up stuff. What I need is a snow melt, then a dry super cold windy spell where the dry leaves before the hurricane will fly . . . out of the yard.
I am not counting on this.
Snowy morning
JANUARY 1, 2008 - Ron's tracks in the snow from leaving for Georgia.
This is a reindeer Cameron and I made in first grade. He's a 9th grader now.
From the west side, looking east
From the west side, looking east.
This is Quentin in kindergarten, I think - or maybe first grade.
And this is Quentin the last time he was here; he had been missed.
This is Charley, the trolley. He got the name Charley when Quentin was little; he misheard the trolley word and so Charley was initiated into our world. Charley used to run around a little tiny railroad, but over the years lost his track . . . or we lost track of it. He stayed for a long time in the china cabinet and on my bookcase, and then I took it into my head to put him on the tree in the sitting room.
Yes, it is I, Maxwoo, seeking the elusive Tasty Boy. Anyone having any information on his whereabouts can contact me at maxwoo@chomp.com.
Hi there,
This is the tree in my sitting room; it is artificial, so sometimes I forget to take it down. It is my favorite tree because it has the traditional lights and my favorite ornaments . . . because most of them have a special place in my heart. Usually I have to tie it to the window latches so it won't fall over; this year I used red ribbon because I forget to bring up twine and the ribbon was there.
Oh, speaking of laptops, Apple just introduced the Airbook . . . for about $1,800. ACK!!!
Photographer: Tony Kimmel
