Oh, no, she's not going to mention her Ereader again!!

My Kobo e-reader is broken.

I should have known it would happen because I deliberately took the longest, slowest bus route to Emily's so I could finish reading " Clara and  Mr Tiffany".  Imagine my horror when I opened the lovely, now useless, purple faux-leather envelope, took out the reader, pressed the ON button and watched as the book jacket picture faded, returned, faded then became a mosaic of vertical and horizontal lines and I knew I would have to be on the bus for 40 minutes with nothing to read!

And of course, I'm annoyed that the reader is broken.  I can't get it to respond to any of the various buttons which means I can't even reset it to factory settings, which I've had to do twice already for other reasons.  Anyway, here is my advice to you:

Don't get on the milk-run busses unless you know for sure your reader is going to work.

On how TV can expand the mind

It is 11:41 as I write this.  I have been trying to go to bed since about 8:00 p.m., and besides having cruised past my own deadline, I have missed all opportunities to put my feet up, eat snacky things with Dave and let TV wash over me.  That means I didn't get to see Fringe tonight.  I hate it when that happens.

I did however, earlier in the day, get to catch up on Big Love.  Ironically, I spent all afternoon sitting in my reading nook watching TV and relishing the two seasons I'd missed.

Not only have I been a fan since the (belated in Canada) beginning of this series, I've found it to be as strong every season, as star-studded, as well-acted, as full of surprises and as beautifully mounted as I could have hoped for.

And even better, it's been both a source for varied hairdos and a source of self-discovery. 

At first, I watched it because friends in the US had raved about it---even though I wasn't sure about the morality of watching a series about polygamy.  But I watch Dexter, so that debate ended rather quickly.

I admired the way the sister-wives treated each other: their generosity, their seeming lack of jealousy, their care of the family children and especially the way they seemed to complement each other. 

I liked that no one got to be best-loved because they all had quirks and some of the characters were downright evil.  I liked the slightly raffish feeling of seeing another culture through a keyhole; I kept wondering at every show if this was the one where everything fell apart.  Did I mention I love Big Love?

Back to the thing about self-discovery:  after a while, I started to challenge myself about why I was finding polygamy so acceptable, so easy to empathize with when it was such an obvious fact when I was younger that polygamy was wrong.  Just plain wrong.   I was actually getting to like Bill Henrickson---he was just a man who did his best and sometimes failed, but he did it in the context of a businessman/politician/community leader with three or four wives.  He had depth, he worked hard for his family, he was fair but he was deep into The Principle and I didn't know how I felt about that.  I  remember feeling the same way about Communism.  It seemed such a good idea from which people could profit spiritually and intellectually, but it was reviled by most people.

I started to make niggly comparisons with other faiths and other believers, and surprised myself by coming back to the old saw about bad apples in a basket didn't mean that apples in themselves were bad, or that the basket was at fault.

Somewhere along the line, I had an epiphany of sorts about tolerance and acceptance and one-size-fits-allness.  I didn't expect polygamy to be the driver.  Thanks, Big Love.

What she learned....

Last weekend, we celebrated Robyn's first birthday, and although the cake that Dave made was lovely, and the music and games were fun, we missed Chris and Phoebe

Phoebe at 14

This is one of my favourite photos from the party---I know I'm possibly prejudiced but it really makes me smile.

Dave and Robyn dance to BareNaked Ladies

although this is not a picture of the birthday girl, it's a lovely photo of the proud parents looking at very cute photos Morgan had taken during the cake ceremony

Mmmmmmmm donuts!! I mean cake!!

Seeing Robyn being so proficient with both hands left me with a sense of having done well with the introduction of chocolate.  When I mentioned this, Emily gave the eye and reminded me that a couple of months ago, I had dipped my fingers in my chocolate milk at a food court and encouraged Robyn to taste it.  About 40 times.

What did she expect?  Sarah had a marshmallow, not willingly, but she did enjoy it, when she was 3 months old and Emily had had white wine spilled on her jammies before she was a week old.  Chris, who didn't get exposed to my eating habits till he was 18 months old, has  only a moderate need for decadence.

Development of a Warmfashionista

When I was in my forties, I was rather pleased to be able to say that I had never worn a sweatshirt, always had been able to find winter boots that looked totally smashing, went barefoot in the house because it felt so good, wore scarves that made a statement, got over, in an instant, the frozen feeling earrings gave you from November to April and had borne with occasional weeping but immense stoicism the toll being fashionable carries in a Canadian winter.

Somewhere between the forties and the present, I accidentally bought a pair of boots that I loved and which actually kept my feet warm.  It opened up a whole new world!

That sad but true autobiographical moment led to the purchase last week of a couple of warm-as-toast, soft-as-kittens, colourful-as-all-getout tops with hoods, and amazingly, little thumbholes 2 inches from the end of the sleeve, so that I can cover my hands up to my knuckles if I want to.  And I do want to.

Let me tell you some of the perils.  Keyboarding is fine except for the keys you usually hit with the two fingers furthest from your thumb.  Dishwashing, counter-cleaning, safe coffee-drinking and brushing your hair are all out.  Applying makeup is doable but hazardous, but that doesn't seem to make as big a difference as it once did.  Coffee-making is also out, but if you have my handy-dandy husband, that doesn't seem to matter very much.

I'm waiting now for Joe Fresh, the fashion-forward Loblaw's line, to make sweatpants I can hook my big toe through to make up for the way I don't like slippers.

Ottawa

-25°C Current: Sunny Wind: NW at 24 km/h Humidity: 52%

Sun -30° | -21° Mon -19° | -17° Tue -14° | -8° Wed

Self-righteousness kicks in, with a vengeance

Today was the first day of our living without a car experiment.  We've decided to take advantage of our ability to walk lots of places and bus to lots more, thereby enhancing our green living, which had led us to buy this particular (green) condo.  We're not going to use our car for 6 months and see if it makes any difference to our quality of life.

We didn't need to buy anything today, which in the wintertime could be difficult for us, as there isn't a full grocery store nearby, only 7/11-type shops.  However, not needing to buy anything didn't keep me from going out to the Byward Market.  I have always loved the Byward Market for its colour and character, and I was glad about the specialty stores there as I was looking for a particular kind of pear which I understood to be very sweet and juicy.

I had no trouble finding the pear---but the Market seemed so far away today.  The traffic seemed so weird; the other pedestrians so thoughtless.

When I had a car available but chose to walk, the righteousness of it made the walk seem pleasant---I would window-shop and stop for coffee if I felt like it.  I'd always spend time in one or the other of the book stores on the way; sometimes I'd choose to walk by the Parliament buildings instead of along the Mall in case I could see parliamentarians about their business, or help tourists standing a block away from the particularly majestic Parliament buildings to actually find them.

Today, I took shortcuts, made no wonder-filled stops, got annoyed because one of my accustomed pedestrian crossings was being dug up and I had to walk over 3 crosswalks instead of one.  I walked with my eyes glazed over, my head down so that I wouldn't be distracted by the big 75%OFF signs in the store windows or the guy with the drum outside the book store.  I got my damned pear and headed straight home.

It's time for a self-directed lecture on remembering that being virtuously carless does not mean being super-efficient, does not mean that the fun should go out of life, and certainly doesn't mean avoiding the drum guy, who was probably counting on my twonie for a coffee.

Whatever happened to that...?

Two and a half years into our condo-life, and I still feel like a new bride.  I fuss around and move the tables an inch or two in each direction; I open the blinds and the curtains so I can get a good luck at the way the colours do or don't complement each other; I spend time gazing at the cups that came with our new set of dishes, loving the soft squareness and the blue vaguely oriental design; I wish every day that my parents could have come here to see the way Dave and I live together---the warm moments, the dull ones, the ohmigod!we'reactuallyaloneheretogether ones.

I wonder if I should have opted for brushed silvery-looking appliances instead of white ones, and I agonize over the various scratches and scuffs.  That doesn't last long, the agonizing, as I realize it's kind of comfortable to have a less-than-pristine look to the place.

Strangely, now that we're four or five years away from the trauma of downsizing, I still miss some things, and catch myself touching, with both sadness and pleasure, pieces of pottery and cushions and chairs that have ended up in my kids' places.

And I still leave the shower door open for the cat that has been gone for over a year.

No longer a twin

I heard that because of a wobble, the zodiacal signs have changed their timeframes. 

Here's the explanation:

A Minnesota astronomer confirms what many have suspected: Your horoscope is quite possibly wrong.

Earth's shifts on its axis over the past 3,000 years have changed the 12 zodiac signs. For example, think your sign is Aquarius? You may be a Pisces. (There's also a 13th sign, Ophiuchus, that's based on a constellation the ancient Babylonians threw out for symmetry thousands of years ago.)

So who's to blame for this scam on zodiac devotees?

The ancient Babylonians based the zodiac on which constellation the sun appeared to be in when a person was born. Since then, the moon's has exerted a gravitation pull on Earth, causing a "wobble" on its axis that has shifted the stars' alignment by about a month, the Minneapolis Star-Tribune reports.

"Because of this change in the tilt, the Earth is over here and the sun is in a different constellation than it was 3,000 years ago when this study of the stars began," astronomer Parke Kunkle told the Twin Cities' KARE-TV.

The shift isn't new, Kunkle says -- the zodiac world just hasn't taken the wobble into account.

Here's the new signs below:
Capricorn: Jan. 20-Feb. 16
Aquarius: Feb. 16-March 11
Pisces: March 11-April 18
Aries: April 18-May 13
Taurus: May 13-June 21
Gemini: June 21-July 20
Cancer: July 20-Aug. 10
Leo: Aug. 10-Sept. 16
Virgo: Sept. 16-Oct. 30
Libra: Oct. 30-Nov. 23
Scorpio: Nov. 23-Nov. 29
Ophiuchus: Nov. 29-Dec. 17
Sagittarius: Dec. 17-Jan. 20

When I checked my sign, I found that I am wrongly-aligned and instead of being a Gemini, I am now a Taurus.

First of all I would prefer to have a sign rooted in classical languages rather than one that sounds like a German car.

Secondly, I think that because I was a Gemini for 68 years, I should be grand-fathered as a Gemini.

Don't take my word for it though.  Look at the traits for Geminis and those for Taurusses.  I'm sure you'll see that I'm entirely unsuited to the Taurus family:

Traditional
Gemini traits

Adaptable and versatile
Communicative and witty
Intellectual and eloquent
Youthful and lively


On the dark side....

Nervous and tense
Superficial and inconsistent
Cunning and inquisitive
_____________________________

Traditional
Taurus Traits

Patient and reliable (ha!  I don't think so!! damn it!)
Warmhearted and loving (blah! where's the passion?)
Persistent and determined  (I don't know.  what do you think?)
Placid and security loving (I'll take my chances with that one, Bozo)

On the dark side....
Jealous and possessive (not in a million years)
Resentful and inflexible (I just knew you'd think that was me!!)
Self-indulgent and greedy (say it isn't so....well, maybe self-indulgent)

So, Astrology-Dude!  I want to register a customer complaint.  Don't change my astrological domain; consider me for a grandfathering clause, or so help me, I will adopt the Dark Side of Taurusness and seek you out.

Rough Waters

If I were ever to be a marriage counsellor, which seems unlikely given both my past and my future, I would include a mandatory lecture on the importance of having common understanding of important words.

Some of the words which we would presume would be easily and commonly understood can cause havoc in otherwise solid marriages.  And for the record, I'd like it understood that this is not a confession, or a description of the travails of any one living or dead, or whatever it is they say on Law and Order so that no one gets sued.


For example, take the word "basic"---a descriptor used to define the essential in a given product, like, say, life.  In a marriage, it can be horribly misunderstood.   Like the husband thinks "basics" means things like food, water, transportation and the wife thinks it means books, chocolate and wine.  That, in a purely hypothetical situation, could cause problems.

 Or, how about the word "frivolities", which to one unnamed party means wasteful things, and to another means pleasant treats.  Are you following here?

These issues need not break a marriage---they can be talked through, but one of the parties may need some self-identified basics to manage the negotiations.

Such self-indulgence !

The other day, I saw this offering from"Word of the Day" and wrote myself a mental note to work a post around it.  Writing mental notes isn't always that successful but I think the word carries its own destiny.

Word of the Day January 11

glabrous\GLAY-brus\

adjective

:	smooth; especially : having a surface without hairs or projections

Unlike the fuzzy peach, the nectarine has a glabrous skin.

"Wounds that involve the glabrous surface of the hand ideally are replaced with skin that possesses the same characteristics as the adjacent skin."
I imagine you can see the possibilities.  Here's a list of glabrous things that have come my way lately:

• not my chin
• my glabrous grandchildren, although I can't be too sure about Phoebe, now that she's a teenager
• not my legs
• a wonderful apple I'd never tasted before but can't remember the name of
• not the screen on my laptop
• every e-book on my eReader
• not any part of Dave (except that lovely smooth bit that looks like a tonsure)
• the granite counter-top on which I just spilled my hot chocolate
• not my cat, of fond memory, which is easy because her non-gabrous hair still lingers in corners
• the woman who sold us this condo

Customer Saaaaaatisfaction!

Dear Makers of Kobo eReaders:

First, allow me to thank you for the 100 pre-programmed books included with my reader---although I swear I love the classics, I was surprised to find that there are many, including Mein Kampf which I have not yet read.

Secondly, let me congratulate you on your eReader User Guide.  As soon as I finish my online course at MIT, I'll start to profit from it.  In the interim, I'll get one of my grandchildren to help me.

I am ecstatic at the opportunity to borrow e-books from my local public library to read on my eReader, as I feel obliged to get the most for my absolutely free library card.  Some of your books are free also, for which I thank you, although I do wish there weren't so many Harlequin Romances.  Don't you think that might make me feel as though you're underestimating me?


Your customer service was a delight, even though it took two calls to get my problem solved---it's just that being asked to reset my Reader to its factory condition seemed WAY extreme to me, especially since the agent told me I'd lose all my books, but forgot to mention that they'd stay safely on my desktop.

I would have liked it better if you had devised a not-clunky keyboard, but if you did I'd be tempted to go to your lovely Store more often than I am when I have to find my way around a keyboard using up, down, left and right arrows on the keypad.  However, your lovely quilted back and lightness of being almost make up for that.

Most of all though, I want to thank you for the sophisticated cachet you give me when I open my purple faux-leather Roots case and take the eReader out at a bar.  It never fails to attract inquiries from both inebriated and sober folk.  Actually, it does the same thing on the bus, but it's not quite so pleasant then, and it's hard to feel sophisticated when you only have 18 inches of seat space.  And of course there's no wine.

Clean and Sparkly---a contradiction in terms?

Yesterday, we took down our Christmas decorations, and reverted to normal Spindillyrushingtonness. 

What I learned in the process was that until at least July, I am going to be sweeping up silver, gold and bronze glitter.  I've got it in my hair, under my fingernails and if I were a baby I'd have it in some of those darling little baby-crinkles.  Try and get that picture out of your mind.

It always makes me feel a little sad that we've gone back to mundane condo so January/February is a tricky time when I contemplate painting the ceiling blue and stencilling stars on it.  The last time I was tempted and gave in, Emily and I stamped silver moons and stars all over the bathroom wall.  It was very invigorating.  When we were trying to sell the house, that was the first thing the agent recommended we cover up.  I still think it was her mistake.

Must go.  Must look up ceiling paints.  Must buy sponges for stamping. No!   Must wake up Dave and ask for help.

Snow:1, Lorna:0

We have such a lovely blanket of real, white snow.  It's taken two days, but there it is.  I've looked out the window and seen the kind of thing many people can only see on Christmas cards:  parents pulling their kids on toboggans, a rabbit being brainless yet calm, the footprints of two people walking closely together, an abandoned mitten, cars all seemingly white, except where the windshield wipers are working.  I know I sometimes moan about the cold, but this pristine snowfall has cured me.  At least for today.

Dave went out cross-country skiing, which he loves to do and came back tired and hungry and elated.  When he's been out, he always seems so boyish when he comes back, until he falls asleep after eating dinner.  It's kind of frustrating tonight that he's sleeping because I was hoping he'd watch me try to synchronize my Digital Library with my Kobo e-reader and show me where I went wrong.  That's just thoughtless on his part, and he's going to be sorry when he sees that even though I was charmed by the snow, I tried to throw my e-reader out the window.

And now for something completely....heavier

I was chastised, mildly but accurately, for the lightness of my last post, so this one will have some gravitas.

"Gravitas", as defined by Merriam-Webster:

Definition of GRAVITAS

: high seriousness (as in a person's bearing or in the treatment of a subject)

Examples of GRAVITAS

1. The new leader has an air of gravitas that commands respect.
2. a comic actress who lacks the gravitas for dramatic roles
3. The new leader has a certain gravitas

According to the esteemed M-W, "gravitas" does not appear in the Thesaurus.

I am afraid that given the lack of similar words for "gravitas", I would have to write a fairly boring post, chock-full of the word "gravitas", thus alienating me from those who might, from time to time, find this blog enlightening or amusing.

I esteem myself well enough not to do that.  While it might not have a deleterious effect on you, as a reader, I myself would find it egregious.

In sincere sincerity, Lorna

The Dregs of January

Things are starting to wind down here.  This is the first day in quite a few that I haven't had a ToDo list.  I could have had one I guess.  It would have said:
* Get up.  I mean it.
*Make coffee.  Drink it.  Repeat.
*Stop reading long enough to acknowledge Dave and breakfast.
*Do nothing you don't feel like doing.
*Blog, if you can think of anything.

Dialogue on a Rainy New Year's Day

Lorna:  Let's go out to a movie---it's New Years Day; people won't be out at the movies


Dave:  OK, your choice


Lorna:  I'd love to see Black Swan, and we could walk there, and have pizza later


Dave:  It's raining


Lorna:  We'll have to get used to that if we give up the car....


Dave:  That's what I've been telling you...


Lorna:  Holy shit!  Where did all these people come from?


Dave:  What if we can't get in to Black Swan?  Want to try The Tourist?


Lorna:  I checked and the woman at the desk says Black Swan is OK but The King's Speech is getting pretty full


Theatre employee:  THE KING'S SPEECH IS SOLD OUT!  SOLD OUT---THE KING'S SPEECH


Dave:  Shall we get tickets or come back later?

Lorna:  Yay! They say there's lots of seats for the Black Swan----I'll go grab us a place---you get popcorn


Dave:  Damn!  I hate sitting this close---I thought there were lots of seats for this


Lorna:  Ohmigod Dave, this is The King's Speech

Time passes, Dave and Lorna are totally enthralled, emotionally wrung-out and delighted that Lorna can't find her way out of a paper bag.

Lorna and Dave are slightly off-balance from sitting with spines strained and neck muscles cramped, but it was so worth it.