“Rachel, that was the second psychologist you’ve scared away.” Stan hung up the phone and looked at her. “He just gave his demission. You wouldn’t happen to know why?”
“No idea,” said Rachel, sitting on his lap and looping her arms around his neck. “Give me a kiss, Agent Wheeler.”
“Is that how you ask for a raise?” Omar ducked through the door, briefcase swinging from his hand.
“Can’t you knock?” Rachel asked.
“It’s my office too.” Omar folded his tall frame into his chair and beamed. “Welcome back! So, how was the honeymoon?”
The door opened and Jessica Brami and Chris Winter came in. Chris stopped at Stan’s desk and dropped a folder on it.
“A new one?” Stan asked, pushing Rachel off his lap.
“No, an old one.” Chris sighed. “Remember Severina Kite?”
“The teenage prostitute from Atlanta. Any leads on her murder?” Stan flipped the dossier open and looked through it. “There is nothing new here.”
“We have nothing new. We know where she was killed, how she was killed, and where her body was dumped afterward, other than that, it’s a blank.” Chris sighed and then grinned at Rachel. “It’s good to have you two back. How was the honeymoon? Any pictures?”
“I want to see pictures!” Jessica chimed.
“I posted them all on my blog.” Rachel looked up at the silence and frowned. “I was joking,” she said.
“The honeymoon was great,” Stan said. “Quiet, peaceful, restful.”
“He couldn’t wait to get back.” Rachel grinned.
“So what are we doing with this case?” Stan asked Chris. “We’re missing persons, and this person is already found. It’s a case for the criminal now, for the local police.”
“Another girl’s gone missing,” Chris said.
“Is there a link?” Stan closed the folder and pushed it over the desk toward Chris.
“They had the same pimp. He’s the one who called me, actually.”
“Her pimp called you?” Rachel had thought she’d heard everything. “Who is he?”
“His name is Jesus,” said Chris. “He called me because I was the one who found Severina. He thinks someone is after his girls. He wants us to help him.”
Omar let out a low whistle. “It’s still a case for criminal, not us,” he said.
Chris shook his head. “Unless there’s someone missing. And another girl is missing. Jesus is worried.”
“Jesus is worried?” Rachel grabbed her purse from her desk. “Well, what are we waiting for, Chris? Take me to Jesus.”
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Chapter One / Part II
There was nothing. Just an immense void. She’d fallen into a black hole. She was about to pull back, to try and extricate herself, when a pale light appeared. It was the dawn, and as she watched, the light grew brighter and slowly lit up the room. She was lying in a hammock, and the light shined into her face. She was weak, so weak she could hardly breathe. Her stomach, arms, and legs ached as if someone had flogged her. As she watched, incapable of moving, a sparrow flitted into the room. It flew around her, its wings thrumming, then it landed on her face. She couldn’t move, couldn’t push it off. And then it pecked at her eyes.
She yanked her hand away and stared at the psychologist. He looked back at her, and she saw the scar pattern went from his cheek to the corner of one eye. “The bird drank your tears?”
He jumped as if she’d kicked him under the table. After a minute, he said, “They drink blood.”
“But, why? What were you doing imprisoned in that room?”
“It’s a ritual. A coming-of-age rite for our tribe. We spend up to a month fasting in the mountains in a locked room with only one window. On the last day, a sparrow found me. I barely had the strength to cry out. It would have blinded me. My father came and chased it away. Then he carried me home. I was a man.”
“You were nearly dead.” She shivered.
With a brusque gesture, he signed her test paper and put it in her file. “It’s been an interesting experience meeting you, Mrs. Wheeler.” He stood up and nodded toward the door. His hands, she saw, were trembling.
“Usually, I don’t see anything unless the person has suffered a trauma,” Rachel said, choosing her words with care. She didn’t stand up. He went perfectly still. “Who was in the room with you?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. For a minute, she thought he wouldn’t answer. “My twin brother. He didn’t make it.” he said, finally. Then he opened the door, and gave her an icy smile. “All that is in my records, of course.”
“I’m sorry about your brother.” Rachel put out her hand to shake, then felt her cheeks heat up when he pointedly ignored it.
“I see now what you mean about keeping friends,” he said.
“Actually, it’s a good way to find out who my real friends are,” she snapped.
“You didn’t have to say anything.”
She heard the anger in his voice, but knew it came from fear. “Look,” she said, putting her finger out and deliberately poking him hard in the chest. “You spent an entire morning giving me my evaluation, and when you finished, because you still didn’t believe me, you put me to a test. I accepted that test, even though I knew I would probably fail. Most of the time, I don’t see anything. Most people don’t walk around with a dead twin hanging around their necks.” She poked him again, just for good measure.
He breathed through his nose, his mouth so tight she couldn’t push a pin into it. “Get out,” he seethed.
“I bet all your years of training are coming in very handy right now,” Rachel said.
“Just. Get. Out.”
She yanked her hand away and stared at the psychologist. He looked back at her, and she saw the scar pattern went from his cheek to the corner of one eye. “The bird drank your tears?”
He jumped as if she’d kicked him under the table. After a minute, he said, “They drink blood.”
“But, why? What were you doing imprisoned in that room?”
“It’s a ritual. A coming-of-age rite for our tribe. We spend up to a month fasting in the mountains in a locked room with only one window. On the last day, a sparrow found me. I barely had the strength to cry out. It would have blinded me. My father came and chased it away. Then he carried me home. I was a man.”
“You were nearly dead.” She shivered.
With a brusque gesture, he signed her test paper and put it in her file. “It’s been an interesting experience meeting you, Mrs. Wheeler.” He stood up and nodded toward the door. His hands, she saw, were trembling.
“Usually, I don’t see anything unless the person has suffered a trauma,” Rachel said, choosing her words with care. She didn’t stand up. He went perfectly still. “Who was in the room with you?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. For a minute, she thought he wouldn’t answer. “My twin brother. He didn’t make it.” he said, finally. Then he opened the door, and gave her an icy smile. “All that is in my records, of course.”
“I’m sorry about your brother.” Rachel put out her hand to shake, then felt her cheeks heat up when he pointedly ignored it.
“I see now what you mean about keeping friends,” he said.
“Actually, it’s a good way to find out who my real friends are,” she snapped.
“You didn’t have to say anything.”
She heard the anger in his voice, but knew it came from fear. “Look,” she said, putting her finger out and deliberately poking him hard in the chest. “You spent an entire morning giving me my evaluation, and when you finished, because you still didn’t believe me, you put me to a test. I accepted that test, even though I knew I would probably fail. Most of the time, I don’t see anything. Most people don’t walk around with a dead twin hanging around their necks.” She poked him again, just for good measure.
He breathed through his nose, his mouth so tight she couldn’t push a pin into it. “Get out,” he seethed.
“I bet all your years of training are coming in very handy right now,” Rachel said.
“Just. Get. Out.”
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Chapter One/Part I
Chapter One
“In my dreams, the dead don’t speak to me. I am the dead person—what happens, happens to me. It makes it harder, because most of the time the dead are in such a state of shock when they died that their vision is colored by their emotions. Nobody wants to hear that the woman who was stabbed to death in the chest never got a good look at her killer, but it’s the truth. The rare times the vision is clear, is when the killer was someone familiar, intimate even. So even when the visions do come, it doesn’t always mean I’m able to identify the killer.
“Sometimes ghosts come back to talk to me in dreams. But they’re never helpful, showing me glimpses of everyday life that has nothing to do with their death, as if they cling only to insignificant moments devoid of passion or joy.
“But it all usually starts with a dream,” said Rachel, feeling self conscious as she spoke into the tape recorder.
“All right. Thank you Miss Martin. Excuse me, I mean Mrs. Wheeler.” The psychologist for the FBI reached across the table and switched off the tape. He had been meeting with her for a week now, but it was all part of her job. As a bona fide psychic detective, she went through tests every six months or so. Tax payers’ money had to be accounted for. Rachel was always explaining herself, explaining her talent, explaining her method of work, although, to tell the truth, she had no idea how it worked.
Her ex-husband, Daniel, had theorized that her subconscious put together puzzles. ‘An imagination with no limits coupled with an almost pathological need to decipher events’, was how he put it one day. As Daniel had been a scientist, and a doctor, his theory, so far, was the one she trusted the most. She spouted it off whenever she had a psychological exam, and the shrink would nod over it, as if it made sense.
“It must have been hard to make friends.” The FBI psychologist looked up from his papers.
She thought about that. “No. I made friends easily. What was hard was keeping them.” She looked closer at the man. None of the other shrinks had said that to her. He was younger than last one, with the requisite hooded stare, thin mouth, and long, nervous fingers that laced and unlaced as he listened to her. He had delicate bone structure and dark skin, with a faint pattern of scars on one cheek, as if a bird had pecked him in a circle…
She blinked. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“What made it hard to keep friends?”
“I think I scared them.”
“Did you predict things about them that happened? Is that it?”
“No, never. I can’t predict the future. I can’t touch someone and see what will happen to them or do any fancy hocus pocus.” She couldn’t keep the acid out of her voice.
“Yes, but you can touch someone and see what has happened.”
“Sometimes.” She waited.
“Would you touch me and tell me what you see?” He sounded genuinely curious, not skeptical.
She shrugged, and when he reached his hand out to her, she grasped it firmly.
“In my dreams, the dead don’t speak to me. I am the dead person—what happens, happens to me. It makes it harder, because most of the time the dead are in such a state of shock when they died that their vision is colored by their emotions. Nobody wants to hear that the woman who was stabbed to death in the chest never got a good look at her killer, but it’s the truth. The rare times the vision is clear, is when the killer was someone familiar, intimate even. So even when the visions do come, it doesn’t always mean I’m able to identify the killer.
“Sometimes ghosts come back to talk to me in dreams. But they’re never helpful, showing me glimpses of everyday life that has nothing to do with their death, as if they cling only to insignificant moments devoid of passion or joy.
“But it all usually starts with a dream,” said Rachel, feeling self conscious as she spoke into the tape recorder.
“All right. Thank you Miss Martin. Excuse me, I mean Mrs. Wheeler.” The psychologist for the FBI reached across the table and switched off the tape. He had been meeting with her for a week now, but it was all part of her job. As a bona fide psychic detective, she went through tests every six months or so. Tax payers’ money had to be accounted for. Rachel was always explaining herself, explaining her talent, explaining her method of work, although, to tell the truth, she had no idea how it worked.
Her ex-husband, Daniel, had theorized that her subconscious put together puzzles. ‘An imagination with no limits coupled with an almost pathological need to decipher events’, was how he put it one day. As Daniel had been a scientist, and a doctor, his theory, so far, was the one she trusted the most. She spouted it off whenever she had a psychological exam, and the shrink would nod over it, as if it made sense.
“It must have been hard to make friends.” The FBI psychologist looked up from his papers.
She thought about that. “No. I made friends easily. What was hard was keeping them.” She looked closer at the man. None of the other shrinks had said that to her. He was younger than last one, with the requisite hooded stare, thin mouth, and long, nervous fingers that laced and unlaced as he listened to her. He had delicate bone structure and dark skin, with a faint pattern of scars on one cheek, as if a bird had pecked him in a circle…
She blinked. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“What made it hard to keep friends?”
“I think I scared them.”
“Did you predict things about them that happened? Is that it?”
“No, never. I can’t predict the future. I can’t touch someone and see what will happen to them or do any fancy hocus pocus.” She couldn’t keep the acid out of her voice.
“Yes, but you can touch someone and see what has happened.”
“Sometimes.” She waited.
“Would you touch me and tell me what you see?” He sounded genuinely curious, not skeptical.
She shrugged, and when he reached his hand out to her, she grasped it firmly.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Prologue
It looked higher from above. When she'd been on the boat, looking up to the rock, it hadn't seemed that far a jump. Now, perched on the outcropping, her toes curling over the edge for balance, she thought she must be crazy.
“Jump Rachel!” Jason hollered. “We’re not staying here all day!”
She didn't jump. She dove. She wanted to show off for Jason, her new boyfriend. A show-off, her friends often called her. But she knew she was a good diver and so she sprang off the rock, clenched her eyes closed, and locked her fingers together so the force of hitting the water didn't break one. Even so, the shock nearly made her gasp. A mistake when you were underwater.
Her body knifed under the surface of the lake. She could hear the throb of the boat engine far above her. She opened her eyes, peered into the murk. They said the water here was over sixty feet deep. There was nothing but darkness beneath her. Her heartbeat was returning to normal, she still had a few seconds left. She was so deep the water was icy. She turned and scanned the base of the cliff, wondering if there was an outcropping.
The child surged out of nowhere as if she'd bloomed like a sea anemone out of the rock. Blond hair floating in an aureole, one pale hand outstretched.
Have to rescue her! she thought frantically. Then she saw the white eyes. Dead eyes. And the swollen face. Too late! Her heart started hammering and she looked up to the surface. It was so far away, just pinpricks of light. Kicking frantically, she headed for air. Blackness filled her vision and she struggled the last couple feet. Someone reached down and hauled her in the boat.
"Did you have to scare me like that?" Jason tossed her a towel. "Don’t you know it’s dangerous here? I almost jumped in to get you." He must have noticed her expression then, because he stopped and knelt in front of her. "What is it? What happened?"
"She's down there," chattered Rachel, her nerves coming undone. "We have to c-c-call the police!"
"Who? Who's down there?"
"I don't know! Some kid!" She pulled the towel tighter around her shoulders, trying to keep herself together by force. "Just call the police, will you?"
He didn’t argue. And then they waited. He wanted to dive down and look, but she held him back. When the police divers arrived, she pointed to the spot where she’d seen the girl.
They were down a long time. More than an hour. When they resurfaced, she was relieved to see them carrying a black plastic bag. The body was out of sight, hidden. She felt her chest muscles relax. And then the police officer was in their boat, asking questions.
“Describe exactly what you saw,” he said, and she did, right down to the floating blond hair.
The police officer looked upset. “I know how you feel,” Rachel told him. “It was an awful sight.”
“No, it’s not that.” He hesitated, then said, “come over here.”
She climbed onto the police boat and waited while they unzipped the bag. She looked in. There were just bones. A skull. A jawbone. Long bones, short bones, and all greenish and pocked with age.
“I don’t understand,” Rachel said. “Didn’t you see the child? Where is the child?”
“This is all we found. The bones were at the very bottom, in the sediment, mostly buried. We never would have found them, except we were looking for a body so we kept digging around. These bones have been here a long time.”
There was no little girl. Just a wet bones. “I don’t understand,” she said again. She reached out and touched the skull with the tip of her finger, and the vision that hit her made her reel back. “No! No Daddy! Don’t! No! Please!” She dragged air into her lungs and screamed again, lunging for the side of the boat.
Hands caught her and held her back.
“What is it? What happened?” The police diver asked.
“Her father killed her. He pushed her off the cliff. And he made sure she never came up again.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he put a chain on her ankle.” The memory of the vision made her shudder.
The police diver looked over to Jason, still in his boat. “It’s all right. We’ll take care of her if you want to go back.”
“I better take her back. I promised her grandmother,” said Jason in a voice that Rachel recognized. It was the last time he’d take her on a date.
“You don’t have any lights, and it’s nearly sun set.” The police diver pointed to the sky. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure she gets home all right.”
Jason threw Rachel’s backpack over, and told her to bring his towel back or his mom would kill him. He revved up his boat and drove off. Rachel was left with the police diver and the police officer.
“Why did you want me to stay?” Rachel asked.
“We found a chain on the bottom too.” The diver said. He looked at her with a mixture of pity and fear. But that look too, she was used to.
Quiet weekend
It's not raining today (this photo is from last year) but it's quiet here, and the sky is gray.Number one son is at the fire station doing his guard duty. Daughter is at a friend's house. The dogs are asleep. Hubby is at work. The only sound is the washing machine as I wash the dog's bed and a few throw rugs.
A lazy, sleepy Saturday.
I finished up my project for Red Sage and sent it off. I hope the editor likes it. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I'm already plotting out another book for the same series. (Ever the optimist!)
I'm working on finishing my YA fantasy, but since I have no idea what market to send it to, my heart isn't really in it. I even started another urban fantasy, since I love writing those so much. So now I have three projects again, and no idea when they will be done or what to do with them! I suppose this is not the best business plan.
Calderwood Books is taking a lot of time now as well, as we work toward putting all the books in print. If you are interested, there is a new 'Print Book' page at the Calderwood Books website.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
A New Word!
weal :
n.
1. Prosperity; happiness: in weal and woe.
2. The welfare of the community; the general good: the public weal.
It's not often I come across a new word. I love vocabulary, but outside of a dictionary or the Rice game, I don't often meet one while reading. That is, until I stumbled across John Scalzi's blog. A new favorite. Start with the Creation Museum Report. It's stupendous.
Oh, and if you do read the blog, don't miss John's photo tour (complete with captions) of the museum. My brain exploded several times, but mostly I laughed so hard I got coffee up my nose.
Thanks John.
:-)
Off to the hammam tonight for a nice steam, scrub, massage, and delicious couscous dinner with the gals.
n.
1. Prosperity; happiness: in weal and woe.
2. The welfare of the community; the general good: the public weal.
It's not often I come across a new word. I love vocabulary, but outside of a dictionary or the Rice game, I don't often meet one while reading. That is, until I stumbled across John Scalzi's blog. A new favorite. Start with the Creation Museum Report. It's stupendous.
Oh, and if you do read the blog, don't miss John's photo tour (complete with captions) of the museum. My brain exploded several times, but mostly I laughed so hard I got coffee up my nose.
Thanks John.
:-)
Off to the hammam tonight for a nice steam, scrub, massage, and delicious couscous dinner with the gals.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
The End
I love writing 'The End' when I finish a manuscript. I'm not one of those obsessive authors who gets so attached to her characters she can't bear to leave them.
(This is Such a lie - I wrote Seven volumes in the Iskander series because I just couldn't bear to leave Ashley and Alexander!)
I think I've grown out of that now.
I've been playing this game a lot:
http://www.travelpod.com/traveler-iq/
It takes a while to load, and the map is tiny, but it's a fun challenge. I haven't made it past stage 10. I'm learning a LOT of geography.
Thanks for the well wishes about my cold. It's still there! I'm still all stuffy. But it's just a cold (annoying, that's all). Tuesday night I'm heading to the hammam where I intend to steam it out of me.
(This is Such a lie - I wrote Seven volumes in the Iskander series because I just couldn't bear to leave Ashley and Alexander!)
I think I've grown out of that now.
I've been playing this game a lot:
http://www.travelpod.com/traveler-iq/
It takes a while to load, and the map is tiny, but it's a fun challenge. I haven't made it past stage 10. I'm learning a LOT of geography.
Thanks for the well wishes about my cold. It's still there! I'm still all stuffy. But it's just a cold (annoying, that's all). Tuesday night I'm heading to the hammam where I intend to steam it out of me.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
A cold...
It's foggy outside this morning. I can't see the end of the garden. Everything is wrapped in white.
I have a terrible cold. My daughter gave it to me. I will now go get some hot tea and go back to bed.
Favorite cold remedies:
Hot chicken broth with lemon juice.
Hot beef broth with a dash of red wine.
Tea with lots of lemon and honey.
A good book, a big fluffy pillow, and a thick flannel blanket.
Music
My husband making me a cup of coffee and bringing it to me in bed this morning.
Happy Valentine's Day!!!
I have a terrible cold. My daughter gave it to me. I will now go get some hot tea and go back to bed.
Favorite cold remedies:
Hot chicken broth with lemon juice.
Hot beef broth with a dash of red wine.
Tea with lots of lemon and honey.
A good book, a big fluffy pillow, and a thick flannel blanket.
Music
My husband making me a cup of coffee and bringing it to me in bed this morning.
Happy Valentine's Day!!!
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Spring?
For the past few days, it's been awful to sit down at the computer and write. Why? Because it's spring here! The sun is shining, the weather is balmy. Spring breezes bend new grass, and the forsythia is budding, while primroses and crocus add colorful dots to the muddy soil beneath the bare trees.
I'm pretty sure we'll pay the piper again this summer (last year, it was so hot in April we had barbecues nearly every evening and ate outdoors. Then May came - not with flowers but with icy showers, and June, July, and August were dismal.) So, whenever the sun shines, I take advantage of it and rush out to play. Or walk. Or garden. (Gardening - the never-ending chore...)
This weekend my daughter had a horse show. Here is a picture of my daughter on her horse (well, teh club's horse - a very nice mare called 'Quit ou Double'), me sitting in the back of the car, taking in the sun. And here is a picture of the riding ring. Notice the lovely sunshine. 
So I've been remiss with the blog - sorry.
Funny thing that happened to me this week:
I went to the bank for my loan. (Societe Generale - ring a bell? Jerome Kervial somehow loses 5 billion dollars in rogue trading.) Anyhow, I ask for my measly loan. The director looks at my income, my outflow, and my demand, then says "I don't think the machine is going to OK this."
I said, "Well, I want the same machine Jerome used."
He did have the presence of mind to laugh. I was about a hairsbreadth from getting up and telling him in a frosty voice that I was changing banks. (taking my debt elsewhere...) But the director came through and put a few little white lies in the calculator, and voila. Easy as Jerome Kervial.
Makes me wonder.
Anyhow, it's too nice to blog today. I'm off to take a walk!
Saturday, February 09, 2008
The end of an error....
1) (On an infant's shirt): Already smarter than Bush
2) 1/20/09: End of an Error
3) That's OK, I Wasn't Using My Civil Liberties Anyway
4) Let's Fix Democracy in THIS Country First
5) If You Want a Nation Ruled By Religion, Move to Saudi Arabia
6) Bush. Like a Rock. Only Dumber.
7) You Can't Be Pro-War And Pro-Life At The Same Time
8) If You Can Read This, You're Not Our President
9) Of Course It Hurts: You're Getting Screwed by an Elephant
10) Hey, Bush Supporters: Embarrassed Yet?
11) George Bush: Creating the Terrorists Our Kids Will Have to Fight
12) America: One Nation, Under Surveillance
13), Bush - no billionaire left behind
14) Bush, Al Qaeda Recruiter of the Year
15) They Call Him "W" So He Can Spell It
16) Which God Do You Kill For?17) Cheney/Satan '08
18) Jail to the Chief
19) Who Would Jesus Torture?
20) No, Seriously, Why Did We Invade
21) Bush: God's Way of Proving Intelligent Design is Full Of Crap
23) Bad president! No Banana.
24) We Need a President Who's Fluent In At Least One Language
25) We're Making Enemies Faster Than We Can Kill Them
27) Rich Man's War, Poor Man's Blood
28) Is It Vietnam Yet?
29) Bush Doesn't Care About White People, Either
30) Where Are We Going? And Why Are We In This Hand Basket?
31) You Elected Him. You Deserve Him.
32) Frodo Failed. Bush Has the Ring.
33) Impeach Cheney First
34) Dubya, Your Dad Shoulda Pulled Out, Too!
35) When Bush Took Office, Gas Was $1.46
36) The Republican Party: Our Bridge to the 11th Century
2) 1/20/09: End of an Error
3) That's OK, I Wasn't Using My Civil Liberties Anyway
4) Let's Fix Democracy in THIS Country First
5) If You Want a Nation Ruled By Religion, Move to Saudi Arabia
6) Bush. Like a Rock. Only Dumber.
7) You Can't Be Pro-War And Pro-Life At The Same Time
8) If You Can Read This, You're Not Our President
9) Of Course It Hurts: You're Getting Screwed by an Elephant
10) Hey, Bush Supporters: Embarrassed Yet?
11) George Bush: Creating the Terrorists Our Kids Will Have to Fight
12) America: One Nation, Under Surveillance
13), Bush - no billionaire left behind
14) Bush, Al Qaeda Recruiter of the Year
15) They Call Him "W" So He Can Spell It
16) Which God Do You Kill For?17) Cheney/Satan '08
18) Jail to the Chief
19) Who Would Jesus Torture?
20) No, Seriously, Why Did We Invade
21) Bush: God's Way of Proving Intelligent Design is Full Of Crap
23) Bad president! No Banana.
24) We Need a President Who's Fluent In At Least One Language
25) We're Making Enemies Faster Than We Can Kill Them
27) Rich Man's War, Poor Man's Blood
28) Is It Vietnam Yet?
29) Bush Doesn't Care About White People, Either
30) Where Are We Going? And Why Are We In This Hand Basket?
31) You Elected Him. You Deserve Him.
32) Frodo Failed. Bush Has the Ring.
33) Impeach Cheney First
34) Dubya, Your Dad Shoulda Pulled Out, Too!
35) When Bush Took Office, Gas Was $1.46
36) The Republican Party: Our Bridge to the 11th Century
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Let's Lent!
Lifted from the Guardian - (this is a religion that works for me:)
"The Church of England is urging people to cut down on carbon, rather than chocolate, for Lent this year.
Two senior bishops within the church are joining with development agency Tearfund in calling for a cut in personal carbon use for each of the 40 days of Lent, which begins tomorrow.
The Bishop of Liverpool, James Jones, who is also vice-president of Tearfund, and the Bishop of London, Richard Chartres, have launched the "carbon fast" in response to what they say is an "urgent need" to reduce carbon emissions, and to protect poor communities around the world that are "already suffering from the ravages of climate change".
The 40-day plan lists simple energy-saving actions that can lead towards a lighter carbon footprint, including snubbing plastic bags, giving the dishwasher a day off, insulating the hot-water tank and checking the house for drafts.
Participants are asked to begin the carbon fast by removing one light bulb from a prominent place in the home and live without it for 40 days, as a constant visual reminder during Lent of the need to cut energy. On the final day of the fast, people are encouraged to replace the missing bulb with an energy-saving bulb.
Jones said: "Traditionally people have given up things for Lent. This year we are inviting people to join us in a carbon fast. It is the poor who are already suffering the effects of climate change. To carry on regardless of their plight is to fly in the face of Christian teaching.
"The tragedy is that those with the power to do something about it are least affected, whilst those who are most affected are powerless to bring about change," he added. "There's a moral imperative on those of us who emit more than our fair share of carbon to rein in our consumption."
Figures from Tearfund, which is helping communities cope with the impacts of climate change around the world, highlight the contrast between carbon emissions in the developed and developing world. A total of 9.5 tonnes of carbon dioxide is emitted per person each year in the UK, compared with in 0.067 tons in Ethiopia and 0.24 in Bangladesh.
Tadesse Dadi, a Tearfund worker in Ethiopia, said millions were already being affected: "Climate change may not yet be a problem for people in Europe, but here in Ethiopia its effects are being felt today by millions of ordinary men and women farmers. These poor communities, who have contributed least to climate change, are suffering the most from its effects."
There has been a rising chorus on climate change from churches in recent years. The Church of England has already committed itself to reducing carbon emissions by 60% by 2050 through its Shrinking the Footprint initiative.
The full list of pledges for the carbon fast:
Day one (Ash Wednesday.) Remove one light bulb and live without it for the next 40 days.
Day two Check your house for draughts with a ribbon or feather. If it flutters, buy a draught excluder.
Day three Tread lightly – whether that's by foot, by bike, on to a bus or on the gas as you drive. Find a way to reduce carbon dioxide emissions when you travel today.
Day four Are you recycling everything possible? Really – everything? Look into it today.
Day five Can you talk about your Carbon Fast at church today? Encourage others to join in.
Day six Turn your central heating thermostat down by one degree.
Day seven Say au revoir to standby. Check that all electrical equipment is switched off when not in use. The TV alone will save a hefty 20kg of carbon dioxide per year.
Day eight Unplug your mobile phone charger: it uses electricity even when it's not charging.
Day nine Climate change isn't a distant threat – it's affecting poor communities now. Pray for Tearfund's work to help vulnerable communities adapt to the changing weather.
Day 10 Give your dishwasher a day off or promote it to a Grade A energy efficient appliance.
Day 11 Use local shops or farmers' markets (farmersmarkets.net) instead of driving to out-of-town shopping parks. They will thank you; supermarkets won't notice your absence.
Day 12 Tell politicians to take action on climate change today. Check out Tearfund's campaign work at tearfund.org/climate.
Day 13 Put the heat on your electricity or gas suppliers and ask them if they have a green plan. Make the switch and feel cosy.
Day 14 Take a shower instead of a bath: you'll heat less water.
Day 15 Snub plastic bags. Get into the habit of taking your rucksack to the supermarket or go retro with a trolley. Ask your supermarket to remove unnecessary packaging.
Day 16 Switch off lights as you leave the room.
Day 17 Only fill your kettle with as much water as you need.
Day 18 Cut the air miles. Don't consume any food that you know has been imported by plane (apart from Fairtrade products).
Day 19 Grace Maglasey and her husband Andrew struggle to grow enough food because their village in Malawi is caught in a cycle of floods and droughts. Join in with Grace's prayer today: "We pray that those of us who farm should harvest a lot of food so that this year we will not have hunger. In the name of Jesus, Amen."
Day 20 Compost. Put the nutrients from food waste back into the soil – not into a methane-emitting landfill.
Day 21 Only run your washing machine when you have a full load.
Day 22 Find one way to save paper today: re-use an old envelope or print double-sided.
Day 23 Turn the taps off. In one day a hot, dripping tap could fill a bath.
Day 24 Counsel your local council. Thank them for their recycling facilities but ask them if they could provide any more.
Day 25 Who works hardest in the house? Mum? Dad? No, the fridge. It's churning away 24/7. Treat it to a good de-icing to make sure it's running efficiently.
Day 26 "Love does no harm to its neighbour" Romans 13:10. But while our lifestyles consume more and more energy, our poorer neighbours are suffering. Reflect on ways to love our neighbours in our increasingly connected world.
Day 27 Pressure a car owner to check their tyre pressures. Low tyre pressure means high fuel consumption.
Day 28 Do a home energy check at energysavingtrust.org.uk or call 0800 512 012 for a paper copy. You could save up to £250 a year on bills.
Day 29 Run your washing machine at 30 degrees. This uses 40% less electricity than running at 40 degrees.
Day 30 Find out a new fact about the impact of climate change today. Amaze your friends.
Day 31 Fit aluminium foil behind your radiator – allowing you to turn the radiator down and save £10 a year per radiator.
Day 32 Any old iron? If they're on their last legs replace old electrical appliances with energy-efficient models. They could save a third of the energy.
Day 33 Have an embrace-the-silence Sunday. Turn off everything. No TV, no radio, no ringtones, no cars. It'll be good for the soul.
Day 34 Tell the Mailing Preference Service that you want to stop junk mail. Call 0845 7034599 or visit mpsonline.org.uk. Sign up to Tearfund's e-newsletter Twelve at tearfund.org/twelve
Day 35 Put an insulation jacket on your hot-water tank. If everyone does, we'll cut enough carbon dioxide to fill 148,000 hot-air balloons.
Day 36 Re-use an item you would have thrown away – such as a jam jar, an envelope or an ice-cream container.
Day 37 Put a lid on it. That's pans when cooking; and use a kettle to boil water.
Day 38 Draw the curtains to keep the heat in.
Day 39 Could your church be greener? Talk to your church leaders. Tearfund can help – visit the site.
Day 40 Replace your missing bulb with an energy-saving lightbulb. Over its lifetime, you will save 60kg of carbon dioxide per year and up to £60. Make a personal pledge to serve others by pursuing a more sustainable way of life.
"The Church of England is urging people to cut down on carbon, rather than chocolate, for Lent this year.
Two senior bishops within the church are joining with development agency Tearfund in calling for a cut in personal carbon use for each of the 40 days of Lent, which begins tomorrow.
The Bishop of Liverpool, James Jones, who is also vice-president of Tearfund, and the Bishop of London, Richard Chartres, have launched the "carbon fast" in response to what they say is an "urgent need" to reduce carbon emissions, and to protect poor communities around the world that are "already suffering from the ravages of climate change".
The 40-day plan lists simple energy-saving actions that can lead towards a lighter carbon footprint, including snubbing plastic bags, giving the dishwasher a day off, insulating the hot-water tank and checking the house for drafts.
Participants are asked to begin the carbon fast by removing one light bulb from a prominent place in the home and live without it for 40 days, as a constant visual reminder during Lent of the need to cut energy. On the final day of the fast, people are encouraged to replace the missing bulb with an energy-saving bulb.
Jones said: "Traditionally people have given up things for Lent. This year we are inviting people to join us in a carbon fast. It is the poor who are already suffering the effects of climate change. To carry on regardless of their plight is to fly in the face of Christian teaching.
"The tragedy is that those with the power to do something about it are least affected, whilst those who are most affected are powerless to bring about change," he added. "There's a moral imperative on those of us who emit more than our fair share of carbon to rein in our consumption."
Figures from Tearfund, which is helping communities cope with the impacts of climate change around the world, highlight the contrast between carbon emissions in the developed and developing world. A total of 9.5 tonnes of carbon dioxide is emitted per person each year in the UK, compared with in 0.067 tons in Ethiopia and 0.24 in Bangladesh.
Tadesse Dadi, a Tearfund worker in Ethiopia, said millions were already being affected: "Climate change may not yet be a problem for people in Europe, but here in Ethiopia its effects are being felt today by millions of ordinary men and women farmers. These poor communities, who have contributed least to climate change, are suffering the most from its effects."
There has been a rising chorus on climate change from churches in recent years. The Church of England has already committed itself to reducing carbon emissions by 60% by 2050 through its Shrinking the Footprint initiative.
The full list of pledges for the carbon fast:
Day one (Ash Wednesday.) Remove one light bulb and live without it for the next 40 days.
Day two Check your house for draughts with a ribbon or feather. If it flutters, buy a draught excluder.
Day three Tread lightly – whether that's by foot, by bike, on to a bus or on the gas as you drive. Find a way to reduce carbon dioxide emissions when you travel today.
Day four Are you recycling everything possible? Really – everything? Look into it today.
Day five Can you talk about your Carbon Fast at church today? Encourage others to join in.
Day six Turn your central heating thermostat down by one degree.
Day seven Say au revoir to standby. Check that all electrical equipment is switched off when not in use. The TV alone will save a hefty 20kg of carbon dioxide per year.
Day eight Unplug your mobile phone charger: it uses electricity even when it's not charging.
Day nine Climate change isn't a distant threat – it's affecting poor communities now. Pray for Tearfund's work to help vulnerable communities adapt to the changing weather.
Day 10 Give your dishwasher a day off or promote it to a Grade A energy efficient appliance.
Day 11 Use local shops or farmers' markets (farmersmarkets.net) instead of driving to out-of-town shopping parks. They will thank you; supermarkets won't notice your absence.
Day 12 Tell politicians to take action on climate change today. Check out Tearfund's campaign work at tearfund.org/climate.
Day 13 Put the heat on your electricity or gas suppliers and ask them if they have a green plan. Make the switch and feel cosy.
Day 14 Take a shower instead of a bath: you'll heat less water.
Day 15 Snub plastic bags. Get into the habit of taking your rucksack to the supermarket or go retro with a trolley. Ask your supermarket to remove unnecessary packaging.
Day 16 Switch off lights as you leave the room.
Day 17 Only fill your kettle with as much water as you need.
Day 18 Cut the air miles. Don't consume any food that you know has been imported by plane (apart from Fairtrade products).
Day 19 Grace Maglasey and her husband Andrew struggle to grow enough food because their village in Malawi is caught in a cycle of floods and droughts. Join in with Grace's prayer today: "We pray that those of us who farm should harvest a lot of food so that this year we will not have hunger. In the name of Jesus, Amen."
Day 20 Compost. Put the nutrients from food waste back into the soil – not into a methane-emitting landfill.
Day 21 Only run your washing machine when you have a full load.
Day 22 Find one way to save paper today: re-use an old envelope or print double-sided.
Day 23 Turn the taps off. In one day a hot, dripping tap could fill a bath.
Day 24 Counsel your local council. Thank them for their recycling facilities but ask them if they could provide any more.
Day 25 Who works hardest in the house? Mum? Dad? No, the fridge. It's churning away 24/7. Treat it to a good de-icing to make sure it's running efficiently.
Day 26 "Love does no harm to its neighbour" Romans 13:10. But while our lifestyles consume more and more energy, our poorer neighbours are suffering. Reflect on ways to love our neighbours in our increasingly connected world.
Day 27 Pressure a car owner to check their tyre pressures. Low tyre pressure means high fuel consumption.
Day 28 Do a home energy check at energysavingtrust.org.uk or call 0800 512 012 for a paper copy. You could save up to £250 a year on bills.
Day 29 Run your washing machine at 30 degrees. This uses 40% less electricity than running at 40 degrees.
Day 30 Find out a new fact about the impact of climate change today. Amaze your friends.
Day 31 Fit aluminium foil behind your radiator – allowing you to turn the radiator down and save £10 a year per radiator.
Day 32 Any old iron? If they're on their last legs replace old electrical appliances with energy-efficient models. They could save a third of the energy.
Day 33 Have an embrace-the-silence Sunday. Turn off everything. No TV, no radio, no ringtones, no cars. It'll be good for the soul.
Day 34 Tell the Mailing Preference Service that you want to stop junk mail. Call 0845 7034599 or visit mpsonline.org.uk. Sign up to Tearfund's e-newsletter Twelve at tearfund.org/twelve
Day 35 Put an insulation jacket on your hot-water tank. If everyone does, we'll cut enough carbon dioxide to fill 148,000 hot-air balloons.
Day 36 Re-use an item you would have thrown away – such as a jam jar, an envelope or an ice-cream container.
Day 37 Put a lid on it. That's pans when cooking; and use a kettle to boil water.
Day 38 Draw the curtains to keep the heat in.
Day 39 Could your church be greener? Talk to your church leaders. Tearfund can help – visit the site.
Day 40 Replace your missing bulb with an energy-saving lightbulb. Over its lifetime, you will save 60kg of carbon dioxide per year and up to £60. Make a personal pledge to serve others by pursuing a more sustainable way of life.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Angels on Crusade
I was lucky to have Margaret Marr of 'Nights and Weekends.com' as a reviewer for Angels on Crusade, and yesterday she put me up as featured author!Here is the link to the interview and review
Here is the blurb:
A condemned criminal in the far future is sent to the past to try to save the crown of France. Isobel was a carefree student one day, and in prison the next for the accidental murder of a child. Her fate, life in prison. But she's offered a way out—through time. The crown of France is in peril. A young boy, who never should have left Paris, has gone to join the ill-fated 8th Crusade. Isobel's task is to talk young Jean de Bourbon-Dampierre out of joining the Crusade so that he can sire a dynasty. Isobel chooses to go back to the twelfth century, although she knows she will be left to spend the rest of her life there. At least it will give her a chance to redeem herself, she believes. If she fails…it's erasure and certain death, and someone else will be sent. In any case, she will never see her own time again.
And an excerpt:
The nurse in charge of freezing my molecules inserted a glowing needle into my arm and had me count backwards from ten. I got to zero and stared at her, perplexed. “Now what?”
“Again.”
I obeyed without question. Ten years of prison had left their mark.
Then a cold wave washed through me. I felt my blood freeze. No one had told me it would be so painful. My teeth chattered and the place where the needle was inserted into my arm ached and ached. The pain grew. Frost bloomed in silver flowers on my hands and face.
The pain was so intense I passed out. My last thought before I fainted was wry. The program was going to lose their corrector. I was dying.
* * * * *
I didn’t die. I woke up lying on my back in the middle of a large mud puddle. Rain pelted my face, and my body convulsed with painful tremors. For several minutes, I felt so awful I wished I had died.
Groaning, I rolled over and propped myself up on my forearms. My clothes were drenched and filthy. I tried to stand up, but my legs wouldn’t hold me. I crawled off the road and collapsed behind a large bush. I had no idea why I’d been beamed into the middle of a road. I could have been killed. I looked closer at the road and sighed. If anything were going to come down it, it would probably be an ox plodding before a heavy farm cart. The farmer would have been able to stop in time.
Unlike me. I hadn’t been able to stop my car in time. I’d killed a child, and I’d been punished with life in a reproduction prison where I spawned one hundred and twenty possible children. Every month an ovule was taken from my body and fertilized and the egg was implanted into an artificial womb. For ten years, I reproduced. I lay on a metal table once a month and donated an ovule, and in between, I worked at the prison library, copying ancient paper books onto gel matrix for safekeeping.
Then I’d been given a choice. Go back in time and change a mistake, or continue to live in a prison, in solitude, where my only jobs had been to produce eggs and reproduce books.
My mission now lay before me. I closed my eyes and tried to remember exactly what it was I had to do. Unfortunately, there seemed to be an empty space in my brain where all that information was supposed to be. I couldn’t remember the first thing about it. I shivered with panic and cold. If my mission failed, the Time Correction Foundation, the omnipotent TCF, would erase this portion of time and I’d be erased along with it.
I took several deep breaths and calmed my nerves. All right. It was coming back to me. I had to convince a young boy not to join the ill-fated Eighth Crusade and therefore save the future crown of France.
I huddled in the gorse bush and wiped the mud off my dress as best I could with my hands and thought of my mission. It had all happened because of a mistake. Time travel was reserved for a select few—highly trained journalists chosen to go back in time and interview famous people. The journalist who’d caused the error I’d been sent to correct had spoken of the crusade in front of a boy who should never have heard about it.
The careless man had taken holograms, as the regulations instructed, but he hadn’t checked to make sure nobody else listened to his interview with Queen Marguerite. Jean de Bourbon-Dampierre had been near enough to hear. On the hologram, he looked up from his reading as the journalist began to speak. Because of what he’d overheard, the boy had slipped out of his bedroom one night and run away to join a ragtag gaggle of youngsters on their way to save Jerusalem.
Jean would not do anything of note during his life, but his descendants would eventually rule France. By running away, he changed the course of history dramatically. I was supposed to find him and bring him back. If I succeeded, I’d be allowed to live the rest of my life in the thirteenth century. If not, I’d be erased, along with all the mistakes the journalist had wrought in only two sentences.
Just two little sentences which had been approved for the interview, for the queen, but not for Jean de Bourbon-Dampierre, visiting with his mother and sister at the court. “My Queen Marguerite, what have you heard of the crusade your husband, the king of France, has embarked upon? What about the group of youths calling themselves crusaders who have nearly reached the sacred Cathedral?”
The words had echoed weirdly around the room, and that evening Jean packed his meager belongings in a leather bag and clambered nimbly down a castle wall in search of adventure and a way to get out of his Latin studies.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Samsara
Last night I went to the ballet. Andrea invited me, (thank you Andrea!!) and it was superbe. We saw Samsara, a modern dance ballet performed by a Spanish ballet company under the direction of Victor Ullate. The setting was stark, but the costumes and music incredibly rich.
Samsara, in Buddhist terms, means the opposite of Nirvana. It's the cylce of life, death, and rebirth. The dance and music followed this cycle, with fourteen different 'sketches', illustrating philosophy of love, hate, death, and acceptance. It celebrated. At the end, white roses were placed in the front of the stage by the dancers. I'm not sure what this was supposed to mean (I'm a symbols retard) but the eye in the back, which had been closed, opened. Andrea, who is better than me at interpreting things, said it meant it was time to look around and Live. I'm sure she's right.
Most of the time, the dancers looked as if they were flying.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Been Busy
Happy Groundhog Day!
Lately life has accelerated. I have a new English student to tutor, Calderwood Books is getting ready to move into POD, and there are so many Dr. Who series to watch...
I'm also thinking of putting my daughter into private school, although my sons did fine in public school. It's not because she's not doing well - on the contrary, she's doing brilliantly. I just think she might be happier in another school. Her two best friends have left her school, and she has friends in the private school I'm considering. It (the private school) is classed as the best school in the district, which is good. It's a Catholic school, which will make my grandfather happy. :-)
I went to the new public pool the other evening. It was great. The water slide was the fastest I've Ever been on. I got water All up my nose. The pool is heated and you can swim outside as well, which is very cool. I think I'll get a swim card and go once a week. I will have to squeeze the pool into my schedule. I've decided to pamper myself a bit.
My tendonitis has cleared up beautifully, so I'm going to finally finish the book I started last year. And then I will concentrate on getting the Calderwood Books uploaded into the Lulu store so they are available as paperbacks, even though I really think that (for the planet) e-books are better. I do understand how hard it is to read on the computer.
I'm reading 2 of Kate R.'s books (Summer Devon) and I am having a great time with them. I also read a YA book called 'Spook's Apprentice', it was interesting. It was translated into French and my neighbor's son gave it to me to read, with the promise that 'I wouldn't be able to put it down'. When I kid says that I pay attention. Verdict - good solid adventure with interesting characters and a more complex storyline than you'd expect. The translation was easy to read, so I am guessing the English version must be very well written. I liked the take on witches, spooks, and goblins!
Lately life has accelerated. I have a new English student to tutor, Calderwood Books is getting ready to move into POD, and there are so many Dr. Who series to watch...
I'm also thinking of putting my daughter into private school, although my sons did fine in public school. It's not because she's not doing well - on the contrary, she's doing brilliantly. I just think she might be happier in another school. Her two best friends have left her school, and she has friends in the private school I'm considering. It (the private school) is classed as the best school in the district, which is good. It's a Catholic school, which will make my grandfather happy. :-)
I went to the new public pool the other evening. It was great. The water slide was the fastest I've Ever been on. I got water All up my nose. The pool is heated and you can swim outside as well, which is very cool. I think I'll get a swim card and go once a week. I will have to squeeze the pool into my schedule. I've decided to pamper myself a bit.
My tendonitis has cleared up beautifully, so I'm going to finally finish the book I started last year. And then I will concentrate on getting the Calderwood Books uploaded into the Lulu store so they are available as paperbacks, even though I really think that (for the planet) e-books are better. I do understand how hard it is to read on the computer.
I'm reading 2 of Kate R.'s books (Summer Devon) and I am having a great time with them. I also read a YA book called 'Spook's Apprentice', it was interesting. It was translated into French and my neighbor's son gave it to me to read, with the promise that 'I wouldn't be able to put it down'. When I kid says that I pay attention. Verdict - good solid adventure with interesting characters and a more complex storyline than you'd expect. The translation was easy to read, so I am guessing the English version must be very well written. I liked the take on witches, spooks, and goblins!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Dr. Who
I'm hooked. It only took one edisode, and now I'm completely hooked on the adventures of a time travelling alien who looks like you'd imagine Ichabod Crane would, and who travels the galaxy in a blue police call box.
It's whacky and scary and smart - and the decor reminds me of the old Star Trek episodes (before they started taking themselves too seriously).
It's a terrifying look at human nature, and yet it's uplifting too. It's got great actors and great scripts.
In short, you have to see Dr. Who.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Financial Scandal News
(For those who wanted to see if the French rogue trader was suave - I think so, although a bit serious. He's described as quite handsome in nearly all the reports I've read. The directors at the Societe Generale must be rolling their eyes at that...lol and there is already talk of a film!)
So I went to the bank today to see if I could get a better interest rate for my debt, and I couldn't help needling the director a bit. I mean, the biggest financial scandal in history happens in my bank, and I'm supposed to ignore it?
Moi: I see you're busy this morning (phone ringing off the hook, people rushing everywhere with big files.)
Director: Yes, it's a bit of a...er...
Moi: Shock?
D: Er...yes. A bit of a shock.
Moi: Did you know the guy?
D: Of course not!
Moi: He did it on purpose, is that it? To sink the ship so to speak, right? Was he mad at someone in the bank do you think? Was he on his own?
D: He must have really hated someone in the bank to do such a thing. (wipes his forehead with a tissue)
Moi: So, are interest rates going down?
D: No, actually, president Trichet of the European bank has announced they'll probably go up to fight inflation.
Moi: Oh, that's stupid. When the price of oil, corn and wheat shoot up, you're going to have inflation anyway. So, what are your fixed rates like?
D: They're low now.
Moi: Do you know the guy's name? Have they released a photo of him yet?
D: They released his name, I haven't seen a photo yet.
Moi: I just can't believe he did it by himself.
D: Er...That seems to be the case though.
Moi: I mean, how could such a thing happen? And no one saw it coming? It sort of shakes your confidence in the banking system.
D: We have lower interest rates over here. Look at this chart.
(notice how he changed the subject...)
Anyhow, I was wondering if I shouldn't change banks, just to be contrary, but it's quite the pain to change everything.
I did find out that:
The bank knew about it DAYS before it was announced.
The trader probably did NOT act alone.
SOMEONE made a HELL of a lot of money. I wonder if they will ever trace it.
President Sarkozy has ordered the bank to give a FULL report to the minister of finance before the week is out.
I kindof would like to be a rogue trader. It's the idea that's cool. But Who would trust their money with Moi?
:-)
Moi: I see you're busy this morning (phone ringing off the hook, people rushing everywhere with big files.)
Director: Yes, it's a bit of a...er...
Moi: Shock?
D: Er...yes. A bit of a shock.
Moi: Did you know the guy?
D: Of course not!
Moi: He did it on purpose, is that it? To sink the ship so to speak, right? Was he mad at someone in the bank do you think? Was he on his own?
D: He must have really hated someone in the bank to do such a thing. (wipes his forehead with a tissue)
Moi: So, are interest rates going down?
D: No, actually, president Trichet of the European bank has announced they'll probably go up to fight inflation.
Moi: Oh, that's stupid. When the price of oil, corn and wheat shoot up, you're going to have inflation anyway. So, what are your fixed rates like?
D: They're low now.
Moi: Do you know the guy's name? Have they released a photo of him yet?
D: They released his name, I haven't seen a photo yet.
Moi: I just can't believe he did it by himself.
D: Er...That seems to be the case though.
Moi: I mean, how could such a thing happen? And no one saw it coming? It sort of shakes your confidence in the banking system.
D: We have lower interest rates over here. Look at this chart.
(notice how he changed the subject...)
Anyhow, I was wondering if I shouldn't change banks, just to be contrary, but it's quite the pain to change everything.
I did find out that:
The bank knew about it DAYS before it was announced.
The trader probably did NOT act alone.
SOMEONE made a HELL of a lot of money. I wonder if they will ever trace it.
President Sarkozy has ordered the bank to give a FULL report to the minister of finance before the week is out.
I kindof would like to be a rogue trader. It's the idea that's cool. But Who would trust their money with Moi?
:-)
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
The car down the hill
Someone abandoned their old, useless car at the bottom of the hill leading out of the village. The person simply parked the car on a spot of grass and left it there. The problem is, it's on private property, and therefor is the responsibility of the person who owns the land, even though he had nothing to do with the vagrant car.
The police were called and noted that the car wazs not listed as stolen. They also noted that they could not seem to locate the owner.
The farmer who owns the land (being a stubborn fellow) declared that he wasn't about to pay for having the car towed away and junked, as the police suggested he do. So, he left the car where it was. On his property, about twenty feet from the road.
Today, some kids sacked the car - wrecked it, broke it, and scattered the pieces far and wide. So now it's going to be a real pain to pick up.
Before, it would have been easy to tow. Now it's going to be necessary to put the car on the back of a truck.
What the farmer should have done:
(This I learned today after talking to the mayor about the problem)
He should have pushed the car onto the road. The car, once on public property, becomes a municipal problem. The police would have come and towed it away.
Set fire to it. (Strange but true - burnt out cars are immediatly towed away.)
So, if someone leaves a junked car on your property, the thing to do it get it Off your property (preferrably when no one is looking...)
And voila.
The police were called and noted that the car wazs not listed as stolen. They also noted that they could not seem to locate the owner.
The farmer who owns the land (being a stubborn fellow) declared that he wasn't about to pay for having the car towed away and junked, as the police suggested he do. So, he left the car where it was. On his property, about twenty feet from the road.
Today, some kids sacked the car - wrecked it, broke it, and scattered the pieces far and wide. So now it's going to be a real pain to pick up.
Before, it would have been easy to tow. Now it's going to be necessary to put the car on the back of a truck.
What the farmer should have done:
(This I learned today after talking to the mayor about the problem)
He should have pushed the car onto the road. The car, once on public property, becomes a municipal problem. The police would have come and towed it away.
Set fire to it. (Strange but true - burnt out cars are immediatly towed away.)
So, if someone leaves a junked car on your property, the thing to do it get it Off your property (preferrably when no one is looking...)
And voila.
Friday, January 18, 2008
I've been Pimped!
Kate R. has pimped me over at her blog.
Thank you Kate!
I am officially a Thursday Thirteen.
:-)
And I'm still promoting my Zombie Jack book, so if you haven't read it, trot over to Loose Id and grab a copy!
Some clarification:
A reader has expressed doubt about my eating habits. I honestly think I was one of the most difficult children to feed (if you ran out of peanut butter) in the state of NY. Just ask my mother how long I had to sit at the table, staring at cold green beans. (I cannot, to this day, enjoy eating green beans, hot or cold.) I became a master at hiding food in my napkin. When I saw the Mr. Bean sketch of Mr. Bean and the steak tartare, I instantly recognized myself.
Kate says my house is elegant. It is not at all elegant. The garden is interesting, the village is spectacular, but the house is old, drafty, and, well, run down. It's a nice little house, and I love it, but it has one bathroom, only three closets, and the outbuildings are bigger than the house itself. It also only has two bedrooms; we've squeezed our daughter into what would qualify as a walk-in closet in most houses.
She doesn't mind. I let her paper the walls with posters of horses.
Thank you Kate!
I am officially a Thursday Thirteen.
:-)
And I'm still promoting my Zombie Jack book, so if you haven't read it, trot over to Loose Id and grab a copy!
Some clarification:
A reader has expressed doubt about my eating habits. I honestly think I was one of the most difficult children to feed (if you ran out of peanut butter) in the state of NY. Just ask my mother how long I had to sit at the table, staring at cold green beans. (I cannot, to this day, enjoy eating green beans, hot or cold.) I became a master at hiding food in my napkin. When I saw the Mr. Bean sketch of Mr. Bean and the steak tartare, I instantly recognized myself.
Kate says my house is elegant. It is not at all elegant. The garden is interesting, the village is spectacular, but the house is old, drafty, and, well, run down. It's a nice little house, and I love it, but it has one bathroom, only three closets, and the outbuildings are bigger than the house itself. It also only has two bedrooms; we've squeezed our daughter into what would qualify as a walk-in closet in most houses.
She doesn't mind. I let her paper the walls with posters of horses.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
A broken frame
It's not a big deal. My daughter broke the frame that held a photo of her great-grandfather on a polo pony. But because it was broken, I decided to take the photo out and scan it.Here is Great-Grandfather Jules Macaire on a bob-tail polo pony around 1930.
I never met him. He died at a relatively young age. A polo accident when he was only 35 left him paralysed on one side, and it affected his health.
He ran a riding academy out of a small stables in Neuilly. During the war, the academy and horses were confiscated. When the war finished, he went back to teaching riding and polo. His son took over when his health failed, but never really made a success of the riding school. When Jules died, his son (my husband's father) moved the ponies to the Bagatelle club in Paris, then sold the stables for a pittance to a developer for apartment buildings.
Family fortunes move up and down. I can follow my husband's family fortune as it slowly sank. War, health problems, and financial mismanagement depleted the fortune, and today, of the riding stables and farm they once owned, there is nothing left. It's sad. Only a few pieces of furniture remain that speak of bygone days. A bronze statue of two horses, an ebony table inlaid with ivory, a few knick-knacks. And a photgraph with a broken frame.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Rainy Winter, and where I nearly get squashed
It's still rainy out. After the one weeks of cold, sunny, frosty weather, the rain came back and has drenched the countryside. I go for walks in my slicker and boots, and the dogs are perpectually muddy. (Let's not talk about my floors...) I am off to a lunch with friends today, so that will brighten up the day a bit.
We went for a lovely walk in a nearby woods. We saw deer bounding through the trees, and Auguste and Rusty were tied together so Auguste wouldn't go running after the deer. We were in a public domain forest, which means the paths and sandy roads through it are kept up, and the trees are constantly being pruned and checked. As we rounded a corner, we saw a lumberjack's truck, heard the whine of a chainsaw, and saw a lumberjack crouched at the base of a huge tree. We were about to go forward, but prudence held us back. Which way was the tree going to fall? We called out, but the lumberjack was wearing ear-muffs and couldn't hear us.
We decided the best thing would be to wait near the truck. He wouldn't make the tree fall and crush his truck, would he? Just as we reached the truck, the tree gave a huge crack and fell - right across the path we'd been standing upon.
I'd never seen a tree that size fall. It fell in slow motion at first, then suddenly swooshed down. The sound was incredible, and the ground shook as it hit, or perhaps it was just my imagination. But it seemed as that giant fell, the forest held its breath and then let it out with a rush of whipping branches and crackling wood.
The lumberjack looked up, saw us, and gave a start. He turned a bit pale, poor guy. I don't think he expected to see anyone that day. He told us it was a good thing we had our dogs on the leads, as there was a family of wild boar with small babies nearby. He'd seen them as he'd driven up. If the dogs had chased them, the mother would have attacked the dogs.
We clambored over the fallen tree on our way back home. It was dead - pocked with holes, and soggy with the rain.
We went for a lovely walk in a nearby woods. We saw deer bounding through the trees, and Auguste and Rusty were tied together so Auguste wouldn't go running after the deer. We were in a public domain forest, which means the paths and sandy roads through it are kept up, and the trees are constantly being pruned and checked. As we rounded a corner, we saw a lumberjack's truck, heard the whine of a chainsaw, and saw a lumberjack crouched at the base of a huge tree. We were about to go forward, but prudence held us back. Which way was the tree going to fall? We called out, but the lumberjack was wearing ear-muffs and couldn't hear us.
We decided the best thing would be to wait near the truck. He wouldn't make the tree fall and crush his truck, would he? Just as we reached the truck, the tree gave a huge crack and fell - right across the path we'd been standing upon.
I'd never seen a tree that size fall. It fell in slow motion at first, then suddenly swooshed down. The sound was incredible, and the ground shook as it hit, or perhaps it was just my imagination. But it seemed as that giant fell, the forest held its breath and then let it out with a rush of whipping branches and crackling wood.
The lumberjack looked up, saw us, and gave a start. He turned a bit pale, poor guy. I don't think he expected to see anyone that day. He told us it was a good thing we had our dogs on the leads, as there was a family of wild boar with small babies nearby. He'd seen them as he'd driven up. If the dogs had chased them, the mother would have attacked the dogs.
We clambored over the fallen tree on our way back home. It was dead - pocked with holes, and soggy with the rain.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Why religion?
I just read a very interesting article by a socialogist on the rise of extremist religious groups in the world. His theory is that as people lose control of their lives (the economy, war, healthcare...) they inevitably try to control some part by turning to morality.Taking control of their personal morals helps them feel more secure in a world where their savings are dwindling, their jobs are on the line, and their prospects are getting bleaker. If that control stayed in their own home, it wouldn't be such a bad thing, but controlling morality means controlling others, starting with women.
It's an interesting theory, which explains a lot, really. It explains the way women are treated in places where religion has become a theocracy. Women are punished for acting in an amoral way - the punishments ranging from flogging to death - for simply making love with the wrong person. The control extends to dictating what a woman can wear and how she must act. In the most extreme societies, she is a prisoner of her own family, unable to even be in a room with a television set. (Recently in Saudi Arabia a man asked for divorce on the grounds that his wife had been in a room alone while a male newscaster read the news on TV.)
I'm cool with most religions as long as they don't try to make me believe in what they do or conform to their moral standards. I'm a woman. I think women are great. I write about sex, and I love it. I am comfortable (most of the time) with my own body. Nudity doesn't bother or shock me. I think that whatever consenting adults do together is their business. Two poeple in love should be able to get married and celebrate their marriage. A woman should be able to decide what to do with her own body.
Children should be able to choose their own religions and not be brain washed into a religion at an early age. I'd say educate children in all the religions of the world and let them choose when they want to, and if they want to. (Wouldn't that be nice?) I think most poeple would eventually choose their parents' religion, but imagine not having any pressure and just being able to choose? What religion, if any, would you choose? I haven't actually decided yet which one I want to choose. I think I'd like to try them all and see which one, if any, fits me.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Three Kings Day
Today is Three Kings Day. In France, it's traditional to buy (or bake) a 'galette des rois', which is a puff pastry tart with a fragipane (almond cream) and a 'fève' inside. The féve is a small ceramic figurine placed in the tart, and whoever gets the part with the fève inside, is the king (or queen).So today my neighbor Patricia invited my daughter and I to her house for the galette. We were 7, so cutting the tart was tricky. You have to give out all the pieces, because you don't want the fève to be left in the last piece! The youngest child hides under the table and says who each piece is for as it's cut.
And you can't peek to see if you have the fève, it brings bad luck.
Once you find the fève, you choose someone to be your king or queen, and give them a gold crown (cardboard - very silly looking) to wear. You also get to keep the fève. Today Patricia got the fève, so she gave the crown to her husband to wear.
Afterwards we sat around talking politics (the French Love talking politics) and I tried to explain the primaries and why Obama wasn't president yet. Explaining politics is hard. Explaining the US voting system is nearly impossible.
Side note: In France, Huckabee is pronounced 'Yuck-abee' and Obama 'Ho-bama'.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Argh argh!
First of all, a publicity announcement from our sponsor (me):
If you have read Zombie Jack and loved it, would you go vote for it here? http://www.critters.org/predpoll/novelsf.shtml
It's just for fun, but if you liked Zombie Jack, you might want to cast your vote for it at Preditors and Editors.
You can also vote for Calderwood Books as a publisher, http://www.critters.org/predpoll/ebookpublisher.shtml
and Joy Calderwood gets my vote as editor! http://www.critters.org/predpoll/bookeditor.shtml
(Again, it's just for fun - no prizes - but it's good publicity!)
Thanks!
I'm making monster noises because my son has gotten bad grades in his first semester and I don't know if he can keep his financial aid. It's a big ARGH because college in the US is so expensive and it's not reimbursed like when you pay for the doctor here in France you get reimbursed by social security. It's not like that. You pay, and I guess what you get is a college degree.
The US system is beyond me, actually. I've grasped the French system - you want to study law, for example, you go to law school and you study law. It's free (you have to pay for books, and if you live on campus, you have to pay room and board, but it's fairly cheap) so most people can send their kids to college. You have to get good grades to stay in though (you have to get very good grades, actually.) But in the US, if you get bad grades, you get put on probation and lose your perks. My son was tutoring French, but he's probably lost that job, and he will have to get his grades Way Way up in order to get a degree now (if I've understood anything).
In the US, you go to college and you study...everything. It's a mass of choices and required classes. If you want to study law, for example, you have to pass history, and to study biology you are required to take English classes. In France, all the basics: French, science, philosophy, math, etc. are taken care of before the baccalaureate. Afterwards, they study only law, or psychology, or science. Some colleges are hard to get into (there is an entrance exam for medicine that requires 2 years of prep studies.) But mostly, you just enroll in the closest college to your home, and that's it. Why did my son decide to study in the US? I think he was afraid he wouldn't be able to pass the vet school exam here. But if his grades this semester are anything to go by, he won't be able to pass any exam anywhere.
What he says is that he couldn't concentrate. This from the kid who would sit for 5 hours without moving or making noise watching an ant's nest. I think he just got distracted by too many things to do. Another thing I noticed was that college was like a social club, like Club Med, and there was tons of stuff going on that has nothing to do with studies. (If I'd have gone to college in the US, I think I would have been distracted too...) I'm hoping he can change his room mate (an aspiring opera singer) and get someone quiet to share a room with.
I am hoping he studies hard and gets good grades.
But ultimately, what I know is this: he's a young man who has to make his own decisions and own mistakes. What he'll do now, and how he will react to this set-back, will tell volumes about the man he will become. I wish him well.
And I wish he can keep his financial aid.
Anyone want to put a kid through college?
If you have read Zombie Jack and loved it, would you go vote for it here? http://www.critters.org/predpoll/novelsf.shtml
It's just for fun, but if you liked Zombie Jack, you might want to cast your vote for it at Preditors and Editors.
You can also vote for Calderwood Books as a publisher, http://www.critters.org/predpoll/ebookpublisher.shtml
and Joy Calderwood gets my vote as editor! http://www.critters.org/predpoll/bookeditor.shtml
(Again, it's just for fun - no prizes - but it's good publicity!)
Thanks!
I'm making monster noises because my son has gotten bad grades in his first semester and I don't know if he can keep his financial aid. It's a big ARGH because college in the US is so expensive and it's not reimbursed like when you pay for the doctor here in France you get reimbursed by social security. It's not like that. You pay, and I guess what you get is a college degree.
The US system is beyond me, actually. I've grasped the French system - you want to study law, for example, you go to law school and you study law. It's free (you have to pay for books, and if you live on campus, you have to pay room and board, but it's fairly cheap) so most people can send their kids to college. You have to get good grades to stay in though (you have to get very good grades, actually.) But in the US, if you get bad grades, you get put on probation and lose your perks. My son was tutoring French, but he's probably lost that job, and he will have to get his grades Way Way up in order to get a degree now (if I've understood anything).
In the US, you go to college and you study...everything. It's a mass of choices and required classes. If you want to study law, for example, you have to pass history, and to study biology you are required to take English classes. In France, all the basics: French, science, philosophy, math, etc. are taken care of before the baccalaureate. Afterwards, they study only law, or psychology, or science. Some colleges are hard to get into (there is an entrance exam for medicine that requires 2 years of prep studies.) But mostly, you just enroll in the closest college to your home, and that's it. Why did my son decide to study in the US? I think he was afraid he wouldn't be able to pass the vet school exam here. But if his grades this semester are anything to go by, he won't be able to pass any exam anywhere.
What he says is that he couldn't concentrate. This from the kid who would sit for 5 hours without moving or making noise watching an ant's nest. I think he just got distracted by too many things to do. Another thing I noticed was that college was like a social club, like Club Med, and there was tons of stuff going on that has nothing to do with studies. (If I'd have gone to college in the US, I think I would have been distracted too...) I'm hoping he can change his room mate (an aspiring opera singer) and get someone quiet to share a room with.
I am hoping he studies hard and gets good grades.
But ultimately, what I know is this: he's a young man who has to make his own decisions and own mistakes. What he'll do now, and how he will react to this set-back, will tell volumes about the man he will become. I wish him well.
And I wish he can keep his financial aid.
Anyone want to put a kid through college?
Monday, December 31, 2007
Welcome 2008!
It's the New Year, and we're all full of resolutions.
As usual, mine will start with 'eat less sugar and chocolate'. This is usually because I've OD'd on sugar and chocolate over the holidays.
Carrot sticks next year, not chocolate and candy!
Stop smoking. (I don't smoke, but it's a darn good resolution to have.) In France, there is No more smoking at all in public places. No more smoke-filled nightclubs, bars, or cafés. It will be odd stepping into the local café to fill out my Lotto ticket, and not find myself in a cloud of smoke.
More exercise! I have the gym schedule next to my computer. No more excuses. Off to the gym! Off with the flab!
Finish the 4 books I started in 2007 and start the series I've been dying to work on.
Work with Calderwood Books getting our titles into Fictionwise and in POD.
Get rid of my tendinitis. (I've been resting my elbow and it feels much better! The house, however, is rawther dusty, and my work is Way, Way falling behind.)
Perfect my golf. (One of my favorite resolutions, after 'Get More Sleep', and 'Relax with a Book more Often'.)
Find more ways to protect the planet.
Take down my Christmas tree.
Happy New Year! May it be filled with Peace and Prosperity for all!
As usual, mine will start with 'eat less sugar and chocolate'. This is usually because I've OD'd on sugar and chocolate over the holidays.
Carrot sticks next year, not chocolate and candy!
Stop smoking. (I don't smoke, but it's a darn good resolution to have.) In France, there is No more smoking at all in public places. No more smoke-filled nightclubs, bars, or cafés. It will be odd stepping into the local café to fill out my Lotto ticket, and not find myself in a cloud of smoke.
More exercise! I have the gym schedule next to my computer. No more excuses. Off to the gym! Off with the flab!
Finish the 4 books I started in 2007 and start the series I've been dying to work on.
Work with Calderwood Books getting our titles into Fictionwise and in POD.
Get rid of my tendinitis. (I've been resting my elbow and it feels much better! The house, however, is rawther dusty, and my work is Way, Way falling behind.)
Perfect my golf. (One of my favorite resolutions, after 'Get More Sleep', and 'Relax with a Book more Often'.)
Find more ways to protect the planet.
Take down my Christmas tree.
Happy New Year! May it be filled with Peace and Prosperity for all!
Thursday, December 27, 2007
13 things to do with an unwanted gift
After the holidays, we're all faced with a huge problem. What to do with the unwanted gift?
Here are some solutions:
1) The hand-knit sweater. The sleeves are unequal length, the color a sort of 'vomitus green', and the buttons came from the 70's, and haven't aged well at all. It's 100% pure wool. It feels like 100% steel wool. You grit your teeth and smile. "Thank you SO much," you say.
What keeps your smile in place is the knowledge that wool is the best material for buffing wood wax. Woolen sweaters can buff floor wax to a mirror-bright shine.
2) The bracelet. It's plastic. How modern! With large, blue squares held together with black plastic string. The bracelet fits the cat. It hides the flea collar, and makes the mangy cat look almost like a prize feline.
Ugly jewelry can almost always be used for something.
3) The hideous writing paper.
That's a no brainer. Everyone knows paper is fine for starting chimney fires. For those with no chimneys, paper can be used to start the barb-b-cue.
4) The perfume that knocks you out. This is a hard one. Pour it down the drain, and you get whiffs of it for days. Dump it in the toilet, and you feel guilty. There is an answer:
Horrible perfume can be used to freshen the kitchen garbage. Soak a little into a paper towel, and place beneath the plastic bin liner.
5) The book you'll never read.
Put it in your bookcase. It can always be used in a pinch to swat a spider when you don't want to ruin any of your keepers.
6) Chocolates.
After a few days, the sight of the box of chocolates, little nibbles taken out of most of them, is too much to bear. My advice is to never unwrap chocolate boxes. Keep them until your next bridge party and give them to the host/hostess. The round, coconut balls make interesting golf balls after a few years in the back of the closet.
7) The dreadful jacket.
Your mother thinks you're cold and gives you a huge, fireman-red down jacket. It's puffy. It's flashy. It's...just not you.
If you're not allergic to feathers, I suggest taking a pillow case and stuffing it with the jacket. You can also try dying it a different color. Experiment. Tie-dying a down jacket is an excellent rainy day activity. Have fun.
8) The gadget. You have no idea what it is. You read the directions twice, and it still makes no sense. It might be a clock - or a barometer. Check to see if there are batteries you can recuperate. If it's heavy enough, use it as a paperweight until you can't stand the sight of it. Whatever you do, don't put it in a drawer and forget about it.
9) Health-food. Have you ever gotten a bag/box/crate of health food as a gift? A bag of sawdust, you thought at first. Turns out to be the 'Power Drink' of the stars. Tastes like saw dust. Your borders will appreciate it. Also can be used to supplement plant food. Do not feed to the dog.
10) The arts and krafts kit. Oh joy. Oh delight. An arts and krafts kit to make a ____ (fill in the blank). You have to sew (can't sew) or paint (can't paint) or glue together pieces of wood to make something wonderful. But these kits CAN be useful.
A car pulls up, and someone you don't want to see comes to the front door.
Quick! Open the arts and kraft box and strew everything over the table.
"I'm so sorry. I can't talk right now, I'm SO busy," you say, pointing to the pile of ribbons, wood, nails and paint. Saved by the arts and kraft kit.
11) The really ugly shirt. Wear it once and have someone take your picture, as proof you wore it. Then glad rags and more glad rags.
12) The awful music. A CD of some sort of ear-splitting cacophony. If you have a cherry tree, tie it in the branches with sting to scare the birds away. Or use it as a frisbee. Put it under your coffee cup so you don't stain your desk. CD's can be very useful. The thank you note is heartfelt.
13) The tie you'll never wear. It's a given that at some point in your life you'll get a hideous tie. They can be used in a pinch to tie up the dog, to close the trunk, or to wipe up a spill. Keep it in the glove compartment in your car. You never klnow when you might need a garrotte.
Here are some solutions:
1) The hand-knit sweater. The sleeves are unequal length, the color a sort of 'vomitus green', and the buttons came from the 70's, and haven't aged well at all. It's 100% pure wool. It feels like 100% steel wool. You grit your teeth and smile. "Thank you SO much," you say.
What keeps your smile in place is the knowledge that wool is the best material for buffing wood wax. Woolen sweaters can buff floor wax to a mirror-bright shine.
2) The bracelet. It's plastic. How modern! With large, blue squares held together with black plastic string. The bracelet fits the cat. It hides the flea collar, and makes the mangy cat look almost like a prize feline.
Ugly jewelry can almost always be used for something.
3) The hideous writing paper.
That's a no brainer. Everyone knows paper is fine for starting chimney fires. For those with no chimneys, paper can be used to start the barb-b-cue.
4) The perfume that knocks you out. This is a hard one. Pour it down the drain, and you get whiffs of it for days. Dump it in the toilet, and you feel guilty. There is an answer:
Horrible perfume can be used to freshen the kitchen garbage. Soak a little into a paper towel, and place beneath the plastic bin liner.
5) The book you'll never read.
Put it in your bookcase. It can always be used in a pinch to swat a spider when you don't want to ruin any of your keepers.
6) Chocolates.
After a few days, the sight of the box of chocolates, little nibbles taken out of most of them, is too much to bear. My advice is to never unwrap chocolate boxes. Keep them until your next bridge party and give them to the host/hostess. The round, coconut balls make interesting golf balls after a few years in the back of the closet.
7) The dreadful jacket.
Your mother thinks you're cold and gives you a huge, fireman-red down jacket. It's puffy. It's flashy. It's...just not you.
If you're not allergic to feathers, I suggest taking a pillow case and stuffing it with the jacket. You can also try dying it a different color. Experiment. Tie-dying a down jacket is an excellent rainy day activity. Have fun.
8) The gadget. You have no idea what it is. You read the directions twice, and it still makes no sense. It might be a clock - or a barometer. Check to see if there are batteries you can recuperate. If it's heavy enough, use it as a paperweight until you can't stand the sight of it. Whatever you do, don't put it in a drawer and forget about it.
9) Health-food. Have you ever gotten a bag/box/crate of health food as a gift? A bag of sawdust, you thought at first. Turns out to be the 'Power Drink' of the stars. Tastes like saw dust. Your borders will appreciate it. Also can be used to supplement plant food. Do not feed to the dog.
10) The arts and krafts kit. Oh joy. Oh delight. An arts and krafts kit to make a ____ (fill in the blank). You have to sew (can't sew) or paint (can't paint) or glue together pieces of wood to make something wonderful. But these kits CAN be useful.
A car pulls up, and someone you don't want to see comes to the front door.
Quick! Open the arts and kraft box and strew everything over the table.
"I'm so sorry. I can't talk right now, I'm SO busy," you say, pointing to the pile of ribbons, wood, nails and paint. Saved by the arts and kraft kit.
11) The really ugly shirt. Wear it once and have someone take your picture, as proof you wore it. Then glad rags and more glad rags.
12) The awful music. A CD of some sort of ear-splitting cacophony. If you have a cherry tree, tie it in the branches with sting to scare the birds away. Or use it as a frisbee. Put it under your coffee cup so you don't stain your desk. CD's can be very useful. The thank you note is heartfelt.
13) The tie you'll never wear. It's a given that at some point in your life you'll get a hideous tie. They can be used in a pinch to tie up the dog, to close the trunk, or to wipe up a spill. Keep it in the glove compartment in your car. You never klnow when you might need a garrotte.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
There's a story in my head...
I have this story in my head, but I can't let it out until I finish the two projects I'm already working on. A legacy from my childhood - I was taught to finish what I started, be it homework, a drawing, or a fight.
:-)
We had a lazy Christmas, but we were all so tired it felt good to spend the day not doing anything at all. My daughter was recuperating from the flu, my son is getting ready for his mid term exams, (in France they are called 'partials', and they count for half of the student's final grades) and my husband was glad to just sit back and relax. I bought an already made couscous for Christmas dinner, and we had that and oranges. (And ice cream for dessert!)
Today son is studying, daughter is going to the pony club, and I will be working on my writing projects so I can finally get to that story that has been inside my head!
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Merry Christmas!
Here are some photos from the fields and forest yesterday -
it was all frosty and lovely out.
Here is August in the field!
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Smug
Well, I suppose I'm just looking for good news after reading that Texas is considering offering scientific degrees in Creationism - so does this count?
Germany’s interior minister called the Church of Scientology "an unconstitutional organization" and said the nation is seeking to ban the group.
Let's dig around the web and see iwhat we can find...
"...To explain the furious hostility between Germany and the Church of Scientology, German officials might point to the story of a young man from Braunschweig named Juergen Behrndt.
Shortly before his graduation from technical school in 1989, Behrndt received an offer of free career counseling in a brochure from an employment agent in Hamburg. But the man turned out to be a Scientologist recruiter, and instead of employment advice, he gave Behrndt a copy of the Scientologists' Bible, Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health. Then a woman from the Scientologists' Hamburg office began calling, Behrndt said, and pressuring him to take a 200-question personality test.
He did, beginning a six-year membership with the group, an endless series of "audits" of his mental health and classes to "stabilize" his mind. "When things went well, I paid ever-more money out of my pocket," Behrndt recalled. "When things went poorly, I was insulted and rebuked." In Behrndt's first year of membership, Scientology officials visited his parents with him seeking a DM 75,000 ($50,250) loan toward his activities. By the time he broke from the group in 1995, Behrndt had spent some DM 200,000 ($134,000), was unemployed and emotionally ravaged: "Many days I saw no reason to even get up."
This article from German Life goes on to explain that:
"Scientology sprouted in America in the 1950s. L. Ron Hubbard, a moderately successful science fiction author, founded the group and wrote Dianetics and other books that outline his principles. Scientologists believe that an intergalactic holocaust 75 million years ago caused mankind's spiritual problems. They perform "audits" of their members' mental states and offer expensive remedies in the form of counseling and self-improvement courses."
To me, Scientology has always been a scam sect featuring movie stars like Tom Cruise and John Travolta. Of course, to me, Mormanism is also a sect featuring Donny Osmond and the Morman Tabernacle Choir. A choice between bad movies and even worse music.
And even more interesting is this:
"There are three notable American court cases involving Scientology that illustrate why Germany's concerns about this organization are justified. In the early 1980s, American courts convicted 11 top Scientologists for plotting to plant spies in federal agencies, break into government offices and bug at least one IRS meeting. In 1994, in a case involving Lawrence Wollersheim, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld a California court's finding of substantial evidence that Scientology practices took place in a coercive environment and rejected Scientology's claims that the practices were protected under religious freedom guaranties. In September 1997, the Illinois Supreme Court found there was evidence enough to allege that Scientology had driven the Cult Awareness Network into bankruptcy by filing 21 lawsuits in a 17-month period. The court stated that "such a sustained onslaught of litigation can hardly be deemed 'ordinary', if [the Network] can prove that the actions were brought without probable cause and with malice."
In addition, a New York Times article on March 9, 1997, outlined "an extraordinary campaign orchestrated by Scientology against the [IRS] and people who work there. Among the findings were these: Scientology's lawyers hired private investigators to dig into the private lives of IRS officials and to conduct surveillance operations to uncover potential vulnerabilities." A related New York Times article on December 1, 1997, added that earlier IRS refusals to grant tax exemption "had been upheld by every court." (On December 30, 1997, a Wall Street Journal article outlined details of the $12.5 million tax settlement between the IRS and Scientology, including the Scientology agreement to drop thousands of lawsuits against the IRS.)
On December 1, 1997, a New York Times article described Scientology records seized in an FBI raid on church offices that prove "that Scientology had come to Clearwater with a written plan to take control of the city. Government and community organizations were infiltrated by Scientology members. Plans were undertaken to discredit and silence critics. A fake hit-and-run accident was staged in 1976 to try to ruin the political career of the mayor. A Scientologist infiltrated the local newspaper and reported on the paper's plans to her handlers." A related Times article also on Dec. 1, 1997, reported on a criminal investigation into Scientology's role in a member's death in Clearwater, Florida. In November 1998, the responsible State Attorney charged Scientology's Flag Service Organization with abuse or neglect of a disabled adult and practicing medicine without a license.
Given this background, Germany, as well as Belgium, France, Great Britain, Ireland, Italy, Luxembourg, Spain, Israel and Mexico, remain unconvinced that Scientology is a religion. "
(The above lifted from here)
Now, ever since a Hari Krishna stuck a pin in my back because I kicked her out of the store where I was working, I've been against any sort of sect. I also chased the Hari Krishna down the street and would have pounded her if I hadn't been hampered by my sarong falling down.
Germany’s interior minister called the Church of Scientology "an unconstitutional organization" and said the nation is seeking to ban the group.
Let's dig around the web and see iwhat we can find...
"...To explain the furious hostility between Germany and the Church of Scientology, German officials might point to the story of a young man from Braunschweig named Juergen Behrndt.
Shortly before his graduation from technical school in 1989, Behrndt received an offer of free career counseling in a brochure from an employment agent in Hamburg. But the man turned out to be a Scientologist recruiter, and instead of employment advice, he gave Behrndt a copy of the Scientologists' Bible, Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health. Then a woman from the Scientologists' Hamburg office began calling, Behrndt said, and pressuring him to take a 200-question personality test.
He did, beginning a six-year membership with the group, an endless series of "audits" of his mental health and classes to "stabilize" his mind. "When things went well, I paid ever-more money out of my pocket," Behrndt recalled. "When things went poorly, I was insulted and rebuked." In Behrndt's first year of membership, Scientology officials visited his parents with him seeking a DM 75,000 ($50,250) loan toward his activities. By the time he broke from the group in 1995, Behrndt had spent some DM 200,000 ($134,000), was unemployed and emotionally ravaged: "Many days I saw no reason to even get up."
This article from German Life goes on to explain that:
"Scientology sprouted in America in the 1950s. L. Ron Hubbard, a moderately successful science fiction author, founded the group and wrote Dianetics and other books that outline his principles. Scientologists believe that an intergalactic holocaust 75 million years ago caused mankind's spiritual problems. They perform "audits" of their members' mental states and offer expensive remedies in the form of counseling and self-improvement courses."
To me, Scientology has always been a scam sect featuring movie stars like Tom Cruise and John Travolta. Of course, to me, Mormanism is also a sect featuring Donny Osmond and the Morman Tabernacle Choir. A choice between bad movies and even worse music.
And even more interesting is this:
"There are three notable American court cases involving Scientology that illustrate why Germany's concerns about this organization are justified. In the early 1980s, American courts convicted 11 top Scientologists for plotting to plant spies in federal agencies, break into government offices and bug at least one IRS meeting. In 1994, in a case involving Lawrence Wollersheim, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld a California court's finding of substantial evidence that Scientology practices took place in a coercive environment and rejected Scientology's claims that the practices were protected under religious freedom guaranties. In September 1997, the Illinois Supreme Court found there was evidence enough to allege that Scientology had driven the Cult Awareness Network into bankruptcy by filing 21 lawsuits in a 17-month period. The court stated that "such a sustained onslaught of litigation can hardly be deemed 'ordinary', if [the Network] can prove that the actions were brought without probable cause and with malice."
In addition, a New York Times article on March 9, 1997, outlined "an extraordinary campaign orchestrated by Scientology against the [IRS] and people who work there. Among the findings were these: Scientology's lawyers hired private investigators to dig into the private lives of IRS officials and to conduct surveillance operations to uncover potential vulnerabilities." A related New York Times article on December 1, 1997, added that earlier IRS refusals to grant tax exemption "had been upheld by every court." (On December 30, 1997, a Wall Street Journal article outlined details of the $12.5 million tax settlement between the IRS and Scientology, including the Scientology agreement to drop thousands of lawsuits against the IRS.)
On December 1, 1997, a New York Times article described Scientology records seized in an FBI raid on church offices that prove "that Scientology had come to Clearwater with a written plan to take control of the city. Government and community organizations were infiltrated by Scientology members. Plans were undertaken to discredit and silence critics. A fake hit-and-run accident was staged in 1976 to try to ruin the political career of the mayor. A Scientologist infiltrated the local newspaper and reported on the paper's plans to her handlers." A related Times article also on Dec. 1, 1997, reported on a criminal investigation into Scientology's role in a member's death in Clearwater, Florida. In November 1998, the responsible State Attorney charged Scientology's Flag Service Organization with abuse or neglect of a disabled adult and practicing medicine without a license.
Given this background, Germany, as well as Belgium, France, Great Britain, Ireland, Italy, Luxembourg, Spain, Israel and Mexico, remain unconvinced that Scientology is a religion. "
(The above lifted from here)
Now, ever since a Hari Krishna stuck a pin in my back because I kicked her out of the store where I was working, I've been against any sort of sect. I also chased the Hari Krishna down the street and would have pounded her if I hadn't been hampered by my sarong falling down.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Deck the Halls!
The tree glitters, the house is decked with boughs of pine and swaths of ribbon, and there are oranges in the bowl on the table.
My daughter is feeling much better today - - thanks so much for the well wishes.
I have finished the shopping, the cards are sent, the house is fairly clean, the stockings are hung, and it's still icy, cold, and clear outside. White frost is sparkling on the trees and ground, beckoning Auguste to escape and go for a dash through the woods.
A couple days ago I got a letter from someone who read my book 'Time for Alexander'. He was quite indignant at the liberties I took with the historical part of the story. I wondered how to reply. (And if I should reply) Finally I sent a note saying that it was a fiction book, and should be taken as thus. (After all, there's a modern woman zipping through time to interview Alexander the Great and getting mistaken for Persephone - I'd have thought that the fiction part was pretty well established...) I wonder if I did the right thing though. I suppose this means he won't be reading the rest of the series.
:-)
But I did get great news - Zombie Jack was chosen by one of JERR's reviewers as her 'read of the year'! Hurrah for Zombie Jack!
Friday, December 21, 2007
My daughter just looked at me and said, "John Lennon is the only member of the Beatles that's still alive, right mom?"
So far, my holidays have been surreal.
Today we woke up and the water pipes were frozen. I went into the shed and sure enough, the workers had forgotten to put the insulation back on the pipes. So, several hot towels and newspaper and a hair dryer later, we have water again. I have to go find where the workers put the insulation and tuck it all back in, but it's cold out there.
The temperatures will rise a little this week, but will plunge again next week. I love the cold when it's sunny out, and so far we've had glorious weather - bright, sunny, and cold.
My daughter is sick - the school called yesterday and sent us into a panic. The school nurse thought she might have menigitis.
So yesterday I'm in church listening to the children's choir for the private school in Montfort (Gorgeous church, Unesco site) and the cell phone rings, and it's my husband with the news about my daughter. I leave right in the middle of 'Angels We Have Heard on High' and sprint for the car. I was with my friend Andrea, so she had to drop me off. We rushed her to the doctor, who reassured me. It's just a gastirc flu. Causes headaches, muscle aches, and nausea. Poor kid is once again in bed (well, with the TV on, big fluffy pillows, and room service...) I do hate getting scared like that though.
Auguste is escaping again. (he goes through stages) Now he's learned to climb the stone wall on the right side of our garden. (Strange sight, a dachshund taking a flying leap at the wall, then gripping and scrabbling over it.) It would be funnier if I weren't so worried he'd get hit by a car once outside the garden. Silly dog.
Gabriele, I got the French version of the Deryni series, I didn't even check to see if it was in English. It's by Pocket books, so maybe they have a series in German? I know most of my German friends prefer to read books that are written in English in English. I'm always amazed at how well my German friends speak English.
I wish I came from a country with an educational system that thought learning a foreign language was important...
So far, my holidays have been surreal.
Today we woke up and the water pipes were frozen. I went into the shed and sure enough, the workers had forgotten to put the insulation back on the pipes. So, several hot towels and newspaper and a hair dryer later, we have water again. I have to go find where the workers put the insulation and tuck it all back in, but it's cold out there.
The temperatures will rise a little this week, but will plunge again next week. I love the cold when it's sunny out, and so far we've had glorious weather - bright, sunny, and cold.
My daughter is sick - the school called yesterday and sent us into a panic. The school nurse thought she might have menigitis.
So yesterday I'm in church listening to the children's choir for the private school in Montfort (Gorgeous church, Unesco site) and the cell phone rings, and it's my husband with the news about my daughter. I leave right in the middle of 'Angels We Have Heard on High' and sprint for the car. I was with my friend Andrea, so she had to drop me off. We rushed her to the doctor, who reassured me. It's just a gastirc flu. Causes headaches, muscle aches, and nausea. Poor kid is once again in bed (well, with the TV on, big fluffy pillows, and room service...) I do hate getting scared like that though.
Auguste is escaping again. (he goes through stages) Now he's learned to climb the stone wall on the right side of our garden. (Strange sight, a dachshund taking a flying leap at the wall, then gripping and scrabbling over it.) It would be funnier if I weren't so worried he'd get hit by a car once outside the garden. Silly dog.
Gabriele, I got the French version of the Deryni series, I didn't even check to see if it was in English. It's by Pocket books, so maybe they have a series in German? I know most of my German friends prefer to read books that are written in English in English. I'm always amazed at how well my German friends speak English.
I wish I came from a country with an educational system that thought learning a foreign language was important...
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Twilight of the Books
According to the New Yorker - it is the "Twilight of the Books" time, supported by statistics from the National Endowment for the Arts.
"...In 1982, 56.9 per cent of Americans had read a work of creative literature in the previous twelve months. The proportion fell to fifty-four per cent in 1992, and to 46.7 per cent in 2002. Last month, the N.E.A. released a follow-up report, “To Read or Not to Read,” which showed correlations between the decline of reading and social phenomena as diverse as income disparity, exercise, and voting. In his introduction, the N.E.A. chairman, Dana Gioia, wrote, “Poor reading skills correlate heavily with lack of employment, lower wages, and fewer opportunities for advancement.”"
Book sales have stagnated, even fallen, in the past few years, dropping from "8.27 books per person in 2001 to 7.93 in 2006."
As a reader, I'm stunned to learn that only 46.7 per cent of Americans have read a work of creative literature (poem, short story, novel) in 2002. (N.E.A. statistics). But the average American's household budget for books was 126$ in 2005, and the price of books as well as the cost of living having risen, I imagine that the number is even lower today.
What can be done about the death of reading? It's true that TV and computer games have pushed books aside, but we shouldn't let this happen without a struggle. What good can come of letting reading be phased out? The army general in me has already made up plans to ban televisision after 8pm, and install reading time instead "Unless there's a really good film or documentary on," says the hedonist in me. The army general huffs but usually looses to the hedonist. :-)
Last week I finished reading the Pullman trilogy (I'd only read the first book - seeing the film made me want to finish the series, and I really enjoyed it.)
Now I'm back in Katherine Kurtz' Deryni books, because I bought them for my neice, and I thought I'd quick read them before I wrapped them up. (Is this a Christmas faux pas, I wonder? It is, however, a family tradiction...) I am very careful not to fold the pages or crease the spine...lol.
My daughter is actually looking forward to reading Moliere's "Le Malade Imaginaire" over the holidays. I'm going to read two new mystery books I bought, plus the book I won from Linda Winfree and that I'm looking forward to reading as well.
Back to the article, it says that "Taking the long view, it’s not the neglect of reading that has to be explained but the fact that we read at all. “The act of reading is not natural,” Maryanne Wolf writes in “Proust and the Squid”" Which is interesting.
It also states that, "There’s no reason to think that reading and writing are about to become extinct, but some sociologists speculate that reading books for pleasure will one day be the province of a special “reading class,” much as it was before the arrival of mass literacy, in the second half of the nineteenth century."
Anyhow, reading the article in the New Yorker was interesting, here's a link if you'd like to take a look. I especially liked the replies of the illiterate peasants in a 1930's study.
"...In 1982, 56.9 per cent of Americans had read a work of creative literature in the previous twelve months. The proportion fell to fifty-four per cent in 1992, and to 46.7 per cent in 2002. Last month, the N.E.A. released a follow-up report, “To Read or Not to Read,” which showed correlations between the decline of reading and social phenomena as diverse as income disparity, exercise, and voting. In his introduction, the N.E.A. chairman, Dana Gioia, wrote, “Poor reading skills correlate heavily with lack of employment, lower wages, and fewer opportunities for advancement.”"
Book sales have stagnated, even fallen, in the past few years, dropping from "8.27 books per person in 2001 to 7.93 in 2006."
As a reader, I'm stunned to learn that only 46.7 per cent of Americans have read a work of creative literature (poem, short story, novel) in 2002. (N.E.A. statistics). But the average American's household budget for books was 126$ in 2005, and the price of books as well as the cost of living having risen, I imagine that the number is even lower today.
What can be done about the death of reading? It's true that TV and computer games have pushed books aside, but we shouldn't let this happen without a struggle. What good can come of letting reading be phased out? The army general in me has already made up plans to ban televisision after 8pm, and install reading time instead "Unless there's a really good film or documentary on," says the hedonist in me. The army general huffs but usually looses to the hedonist. :-)
Last week I finished reading the Pullman trilogy (I'd only read the first book - seeing the film made me want to finish the series, and I really enjoyed it.)
Now I'm back in Katherine Kurtz' Deryni books, because I bought them for my neice, and I thought I'd quick read them before I wrapped them up. (Is this a Christmas faux pas, I wonder? It is, however, a family tradiction...) I am very careful not to fold the pages or crease the spine...lol.
My daughter is actually looking forward to reading Moliere's "Le Malade Imaginaire" over the holidays. I'm going to read two new mystery books I bought, plus the book I won from Linda Winfree and that I'm looking forward to reading as well.
Back to the article, it says that "Taking the long view, it’s not the neglect of reading that has to be explained but the fact that we read at all. “The act of reading is not natural,” Maryanne Wolf writes in “Proust and the Squid”" Which is interesting.
It also states that, "There’s no reason to think that reading and writing are about to become extinct, but some sociologists speculate that reading books for pleasure will one day be the province of a special “reading class,” much as it was before the arrival of mass literacy, in the second half of the nineteenth century."
Anyhow, reading the article in the New Yorker was interesting, here's a link if you'd like to take a look. I especially liked the replies of the illiterate peasants in a 1930's study.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Still begging for a pony
My daughter (despite being told that NO she cannot have a horse) is still begging me.
Here are 3 things my kids have asked me for Christmas that they never got:
A flying carpet.
"But Mom, it does so exist! We saw it in that film - Aladin! Don't you remember?"
Sebastian, 7 yrs. old. Absolutely convinced that there were magic carpets, and that I didn't want to give him one because I was afraid he'd fall off.
"I promise, I'll hold on tight! I won't go too far!"
He kept this up for THREE weeks. I finally gave him the prayer rug my uncle had brought me back from the first Gulf war from Kuwait. Sebi sat on the rug and tried to make it fly for hours. Anyone catching sight of him would have been amazed at how devout this little boy was, kneeling on his prayer rug, facing the open window.
An equine.
A little shetland pony.
A pony.
A donkey.
A small horse.
A horse.
My daughter has grown from pony to horse, but she still begs. The answer is still
No,
No,
No.
NO!
A cell phone.
"But Mom, I can't keep using the pay phone at the school. There's always a long line of kids there, and I have to wait to call you. If I don't have to wait, I can call you sooner, and you won't have to spend as much time in the car." (Yes Alex, this was you, darling. You're in college now, so you can probably catch the mistake.)
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Calderwood's EPPIE Finalists!
I'm so proud of Calderwood Books' EPPIE finalists!!
There is even a mention of us in this industry blog:
"...Hundreds of e-writers must have been cheering or groaning as the news filtered into the inboxes of their PCs throughout the world. E-mails Thursday were telling them whether they were finalists in the e-bookdom’s high-stakes contest, the Eppie awards. Just who among the six-hundred contestants–anyone can enter–had survived the first cut?
As I scanned down the finalist lists, I saw a lot of heavy hitters in the e-biz (Ellora’s Cave, Samhain Publishing, Loose Id), but also smaller new houses, like Calderwood Books–which, strengthened by gifted new authors, had made strong showings. I also saw big New York houses in the ranks, such as Harlequin and Silhouette. Sylvia Day at Kensington Books made the finals last year. "
Congratulations to:
Attack of the Killer Prom Dresses (YA)
North Star (Fantasy)
The Falling Down Man (Mystery)
If you haven't read them, go grab a copy from Calderwood Books!
There is even a mention of us in this industry blog:
"...Hundreds of e-writers must have been cheering or groaning as the news filtered into the inboxes of their PCs throughout the world. E-mails Thursday were telling them whether they were finalists in the e-bookdom’s high-stakes contest, the Eppie awards. Just who among the six-hundred contestants–anyone can enter–had survived the first cut?
As I scanned down the finalist lists, I saw a lot of heavy hitters in the e-biz (Ellora’s Cave, Samhain Publishing, Loose Id), but also smaller new houses, like Calderwood Books–which, strengthened by gifted new authors, had made strong showings. I also saw big New York houses in the ranks, such as Harlequin and Silhouette. Sylvia Day at Kensington Books made the finals last year. "
Congratulations to:
Attack of the Killer Prom Dresses (YA)
North Star (Fantasy)
The Falling Down Man (Mystery)
If you haven't read them, go grab a copy from Calderwood Books!
Friday, December 14, 2007
I have to stop...
...Reading the news in the morning. It ruins my entire day sometimes.
Decided to clean house and finish wrapping presents. My daughter counted the presents under the tree. Wanted to know why she only had 1.
(I've hidden the rest. This is called torturing your child.)
"Because we're only giving you one present this year. But don't worry. You'll love the book..I mean present."
"One book?" (Outraged tone of voice.)
"Did I say book? Ignore it. Forget what I said. Christmas is all about the birth of Christ, not presents. In order to become more Christian this year, I've decided to forego presents. Too commercial."
"What?! What about the presents the three kings gave to Jesus. Shouldn't I get at least three presents?"
"Well, if you insist. I don't know where I'll get the myrhh though. Insense is easy, and I suppose I have an old gold ring somewhere I can wrap up."
Daughter narrows eyes. "I was thinking more along the lines of a pony, and a new saddle blanket."
"Forget it. Gold, insense, and mryhh."
"I've decided to become Jewish. That way I get eight presents."
"You have to know how to speak Hebrew. Can you speak Hebrew? No? Well, no Hannukka presents. Sorry."
"How about we become Muslims and celebrate Eid ul-Adha? OK?"
"You know that calls for sacrificing the family's best domestic animal. Do you want us to have to kill Auguste?"
"That's not for dogs! It's for sheep, goats, or cows!"
"Or ponies. Maybe you can get a pony for Christmas and we can sacrifice it for Eid ul-Adha?"
"Stop teasing me!" (howls)
(Kids have no sense of humor.)
Actually, neither do religeous fanatics so I'd better stop here. Never fear, we won't sacrifice Auguste - he's too young and too small, for one thing. Hannukka is already over (I hope my Jewish friends had a happy Hannukka) and so we'll just have to stick with celebrating Christmas. Somehow I have to convince my daughter that the poor and meek will inherit the earth, and when that happens, we'll have all the ponies and horses she'll need.
:-)
And for all my friends for this holiday season:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Fe11OlMiz8
Decided to clean house and finish wrapping presents. My daughter counted the presents under the tree. Wanted to know why she only had 1.
(I've hidden the rest. This is called torturing your child.)
"Because we're only giving you one present this year. But don't worry. You'll love the book..I mean present."
"One book?" (Outraged tone of voice.)
"Did I say book? Ignore it. Forget what I said. Christmas is all about the birth of Christ, not presents. In order to become more Christian this year, I've decided to forego presents. Too commercial."
"What?! What about the presents the three kings gave to Jesus. Shouldn't I get at least three presents?"
"Well, if you insist. I don't know where I'll get the myrhh though. Insense is easy, and I suppose I have an old gold ring somewhere I can wrap up."
Daughter narrows eyes. "I was thinking more along the lines of a pony, and a new saddle blanket."
"Forget it. Gold, insense, and mryhh."
"I've decided to become Jewish. That way I get eight presents."
"You have to know how to speak Hebrew. Can you speak Hebrew? No? Well, no Hannukka presents. Sorry."
"How about we become Muslims and celebrate Eid ul-Adha? OK?"
"You know that calls for sacrificing the family's best domestic animal. Do you want us to have to kill Auguste?"
"That's not for dogs! It's for sheep, goats, or cows!"
"Or ponies. Maybe you can get a pony for Christmas and we can sacrifice it for Eid ul-Adha?"
"Stop teasing me!" (howls)
(Kids have no sense of humor.)
Actually, neither do religeous fanatics so I'd better stop here. Never fear, we won't sacrifice Auguste - he's too young and too small, for one thing. Hannukka is already over (I hope my Jewish friends had a happy Hannukka) and so we'll just have to stick with celebrating Christmas. Somehow I have to convince my daughter that the poor and meek will inherit the earth, and when that happens, we'll have all the ponies and horses she'll need.
:-)
And for all my friends for this holiday season:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Fe11OlMiz8
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Staying in touch
I love the progress we've made in communication. When I first moved to France, the fax was the BIG THING. You could send a letter and it arrived Instantly! Everyone had to have a fax!
Well, we've made progress since then. Now I keep in touch with e-mail, Skype, IMS, yahoo chat, and there are films to send, notes, little 'hello's' that you couldn't send before. Notes with pictures. I just got pictures from my cousin's wedding. Everyone can stay in touch.
And that's part of the reason I have my blog. Being the only Berroyer/Betrus over here in France, it's nice to keep in touch with family. So I use my blog as a sort of stepping stone. My family can pop over and see what I'm up to - what the weather is like, and how my Christmas tree looks!
:-)
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
My son, the Fireman!
The fireman's calendar has arrived! I got a preview copy - but I plan to get a bunch more.
:-)
Here's the cover picture. Son Sebi is in the front row, second from the left looking at the photo.
My husband and I were looking at the picture today, and he said, "Kids can really surprise you, don't they?"
And it's true. I never imagined Sebi as a fireman (he's also a full time psychology student!) but it's nice when kids surprise you (most of the time, lol.) We never pushed our kids in any particular direction, except to get their diplomas. Maybe I pushed my other son, Alex, towards veterinary medicine, but right now he's studying microbiology and loving it, so maybe he'll change direction as well. My daughter has announced she wants to be a mounted policewoman. I love when kids look toward the future and see wonderful, intersting choices ahead of them. That's when I think that I've done a good job as a mother.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Bernita's Contest!
Kate R. is not the only one holding contests.
There is one over on the incomparable Bernita's blog as well - and the prize is a paperback copy of "Weirdly: A Collection of Strange Tales". So sharpen your pens and write a story in less than 250 words. Get your inspiration from a hauntingly lovely picture.
Here is my entry - read it, then go to Bernita's blog and see if you imagined the picture!
They say there is a place where lightning doesn't strike twice - but three times, four time, over and over.They say the trees can't grow there. When one gets too tall, it's struck down.They say there's a place where the air vibrates with electrons, calling the bolts of lightning down flicker-quick and hot fingered, singing the trees that dare raise their heads too high so they grow sideways to defeat the electric enemy.
There are places like that where I have lived. Don't raise your head too high. Don't act too proud. Don't show off. Don't show at all. Hide your body and your mind. Hide behind mediocraty. Because if you don't, then someone will be quick to knock you down - make sure you realize that you better toe the line, stay in line, keep your head down. And if, by some quirk of talent or fate you stand out, you're the lightning rod.
There is one over on the incomparable Bernita's blog as well - and the prize is a paperback copy of "Weirdly: A Collection of Strange Tales". So sharpen your pens and write a story in less than 250 words. Get your inspiration from a hauntingly lovely picture.
Here is my entry - read it, then go to Bernita's blog and see if you imagined the picture!
The Lightning Rod
They say there is a place where lightning doesn't strike twice - but three times, four time, over and over.They say the trees can't grow there. When one gets too tall, it's struck down.They say there's a place where the air vibrates with electrons, calling the bolts of lightning down flicker-quick and hot fingered, singing the trees that dare raise their heads too high so they grow sideways to defeat the electric enemy.
There are places like that where I have lived. Don't raise your head too high. Don't act too proud. Don't show off. Don't show at all. Hide your body and your mind. Hide behind mediocraty. Because if you don't, then someone will be quick to knock you down - make sure you realize that you better toe the line, stay in line, keep your head down. And if, by some quirk of talent or fate you stand out, you're the lightning rod.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Golf in the Pouring Rain
I was out playing golf today. I called up the club to make sure the golf competition was still on, and it was, so off I went because I'd signed up, and I didn't want to be a wuss.
So there I was - wearing my daughter's waterproof winter coat, my husband's Australian cowboy hat, and my yellow rubber boots...in the pouring rain. Hands wet, clubs wet - sloshing through puddles with my two partners in the scramble. We had a wonderful time. Laughed our heads off - and won the tournament by six strokes; yes folks, I am definitely not a fair weather friend, but a foul weather golfer.
We nearly lost a club (slipped out of the guy's hands at the tee and flew into a huge puddle in a sand trap) we lost an umbrella -( turned inside out in the wind and broke) We had wind, rain, sleet and hail. We arrived soaked. My jeans were dripping into my boots and my feet were soaked. My hair was tangled and sopping wet.. But we won!!!
And I got a new pink woman's golf glove as first prize.
:-)
So there I was - wearing my daughter's waterproof winter coat, my husband's Australian cowboy hat, and my yellow rubber boots...in the pouring rain. Hands wet, clubs wet - sloshing through puddles with my two partners in the scramble. We had a wonderful time. Laughed our heads off - and won the tournament by six strokes; yes folks, I am definitely not a fair weather friend, but a foul weather golfer.
We nearly lost a club (slipped out of the guy's hands at the tee and flew into a huge puddle in a sand trap) we lost an umbrella -( turned inside out in the wind and broke) We had wind, rain, sleet and hail. We arrived soaked. My jeans were dripping into my boots and my feet were soaked. My hair was tangled and sopping wet.. But we won!!!
And I got a new pink woman's golf glove as first prize.
:-)
Friday, December 07, 2007
My camera is better
I had been having problems with my camera. I thought it was broken, but it turned out to be a problem with the batteries. Nothing serious. Easily fixed. So I thought I'd start my photo journal again.
Here's one of the first pics I took after my camera got better. It's of the church in front of our house. You can see the war monument and the old chestnut tree (planted during Napoleon's reign) that shades the village square.
You can also see the original front door, (restored last year) which dates from the 9th century, and the original body of the church which also dates from that period. The transept and apse is all that is left. The nave and the rest of the curch was destroyed a hundred years ago after a huge storm knocked over a bell tower opposite the one standing, and the French army decided to use dynamite to take it down. They over estimated the amount they needed and blew up most of the church. Funnily enough, only the added-on parts were destroyed. The original door and old apse were intact.
They've made the transept into the nave now, so the chairs are arranged in a coptic cross shape facing the altar. Here is another picture looking through the ruined nave towards the new doorway (it used to be that the arches were not walled up - that and the doors were added after the explosion.
Yes, I know it's a tippy picture. But I had to stick my hands in through the gate to get a shot without iron bars, and I guess I didn't hold the camera very straight! (The church does have some slanted walls, but you can't tell until you're inside, actually.)
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