Monday, March 6, 2017

Monday Musical Offering Post-flu edition

Coming off of a bout of the 'flu.  Could go with "poi a poi di nuovo vivente," which is descriptive but does not adequately convey the sentiment.  Having spent almost two days pretty much abed, and another day where I was able to be up and about for a half an hour followed by an hour of recovering,  I was just grateful to be able to do stuff for an entire afternoon (to say nothing of being able to eat).  So, a heiliger dankgesang is appropriate.  

Friday, February 24, 2017

Friday Flicks, dreamy edition

This from a hundred and ten years ago was unfortunately appropriate last night:
So, there I was living the bachelor life last night while the Real Doctor was away, and because I wanted some comfort food I made Welsh rarebit and broccoli.  And, because I'm used to cooking for two, I made slightly too much.  And, because it was a long day, I ate it late, and went right to bed.

Ugh.  Such dreams...such awful dreams.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Wednesday Wordage Euphemistic & Epistolary Edition

I have not been able to write the name of our current president along with his title.  I just can't.  I don't like even referring to him.  It's not like Voldemort in the Harry Potter books, with everyone referring to him as "he who shall not be named."  It's not fear.  It's just disgust.

There have been many, many epithets proposed for the twerp (the Scots have been particularly creative in this regard).  Some have seized on one and made it their preferred usage--such as President* or Cheetoh Benito.  But I haven't really liked any of them to make them my preferred usage.  I think, though, I may have found something I can get along with.  It carries a title, is sufficiently insulting, belittling, and is made from the clown's own name, by anagramming.  You can even say it with a mocking intonation, sarcastically aggrandizing him like Voldemort:

LORD DAMP NUT.  

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In other news, I have written my first angry letter to the editor, about which more later.  An unusual, and public step for me, as it is my habit not to make known my politics to strangers.  But, it is today, and I am going to have to do more.  Thirty years from now, when I am asked "what did you do during the coup d'etat?" I will have to have a better answer than "I wrote a sternly worded letter to the editor."

Circle of life and all that

Farming throws life, all of it, all at you all at once.  So you find yourself taking a phone call to set up mortuary arrangements for your mom, who is on hospice, while you are hanging on to a doe is not totally enthusiastic about the buck that you're breeding her to.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Frustrations

Scrambled all my plans and spent all morning dealing with a 3x1 dichtring and a 0.52 d├╝senscheibe.

(Partial explanation)

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Tuesday Tool Primitive Pete edition


Today's tool is probably either the first, or the second, tool an anthropoid ever used.  It's a stick.

I guess it's four years now that we've been heating our house with wood.  Got our nice, efficient fireplace insert, got cords and cords of wood from the trees that were crowding the house, and we had piles of kindling from the remodeling and upgrading that we've done--lots of lath and pulled-up floorboards and subflooring.  What we did not have was a fireplace set: a nice poker, an ash shovel, maybe some tongs.  But, you make do with what's at hand, and what was at hand was a one-foot-long section of rough-cut subflooring that had been busted up to make a piece of kindling.  And, because it did, we kept making do--it got more and more charred (or perhaps fire-hardened), the "handle" end became more and more polished, and at one point last year a chunk split off of it.  Still worked, though.

Well, we finally got ourselves a fireplace set.  It's nice, and it actually works significantly better than the stick.  But I haven't had the heart to burn it yet.  It's just sitting by the fireplace, behind the "real" set, and occasionally, when I'm building the fire, I grab it instead of the iron poker, without thinking.  Some primitive, atavistic streak, I guess, "Mmmggggg, Thag poke fire with stick!"