There are a lot of words beating each other up in my brain right now, trying to be the first to escape through my mouth. So I'll keep things as controlled as I can. Some of the words will just have to stay in my brain where they won't do any damage, but I'll let these incongruous and innocent ones out:
1) Seattle Symphony is amazing, and so is Bugs Bunny.
2) I am happy that summer has finally deigned to show its face around these parts. I actually got *gasp* SWEATY today!
3) I bought a new tinwhistle. Stop rolling your eyes at me, I had a credit at my favorite folk music store. Why are you still rolling your eyes?
4)It's hard not to say things you really want to say, but you know it either won't make a difference or won't make a GOOD difference...or both.
Yep, that's it.
Oh wait...one more...
5) Someday I want to attend a performance of Wagner. The whole nine yards. Lohengrin, perhaps? Let's work on that.
-The GLS
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Brightly Lit Corners.
Go and get yourself some Emmylou Harris to listen to. Now. I'll wait.
...
Okay, here's the thing: my desk is currently aglow between three candles and one Little Red Kerosene Lamp That Could, so I'm pretty much in my version of earthly heaven.
(For the record...that red thing is not the kerosene lamp. It's a glassybaby.)
I took the day off of work, today. I also got a lot done, between marking up stuff for our impending garage sale (a several-hour process) and shopping for new jeans (highly important). But I also had time to pick up some new essentials.
I stopped by the bookstore today and made a beeline for the cookbooks, and picked up one that is entirely devoted to grilled cheese sandwiches. No joke. 50 recipes for different kinds of grilled cheese sandwiches, plus a few soups, salads, and toppings to go with. The pictures are making me drool all over the keyboard. Please excuse. I also picked up a Vegetarian cookbook out of mere curiosity at the range of things possible without meat, and also because the amount of curry recipes within make me want to cry. In a good way.
Besides, I have an uncanny ability to befriend vegetarians, usually without my immediate knowledge, and I'm sure I'll meet many more over the course of the rest of my life. Best to be prepared as a cook for whatever life throws your way, right? Right.
The mixture of smells in my room right now is making me dizzy. Kerosene and two scented candles, plus the Eucalyptus-Spearmint room spray I may or may not have over-sprayed in an effort to fully enjoy the scent. So sue me, it's nice.
Yep, this is a little corner of my world. In this picture alone you can see three hurricane lamps, if you look hard enough. And lots of candles. And the giraffes that my dad brought back from Kenya for me. And one of the set of six drinking glasses I may or may not have stolen from my married friends. But they didn't want them, as I recall, so I think we're good. That teacup and that fan were both my Nana's. I'll let you decide which of the two is actually authentically old. That purple feather is the top of my quill pen, and ring is my Claddagh. And that pitcher full of stuff? It has a bouquet of daisies and cornflowers (fake) in it, as well as knitting needles (not fake). Then there's the flowerpot full of pens and pencils, and the wall covered in photos. And my (not quite exact) quote from Rabbi Heschel: "I asked for wonder, and He gave it to me."
I think everyone needs a corner like this one. Well, not exactly like it. But something similar. Where everything just seems right. And good.
Anyway. About to pass out from the fumes. G'night.
-The GLS
...
Okay, here's the thing: my desk is currently aglow between three candles and one Little Red Kerosene Lamp That Could, so I'm pretty much in my version of earthly heaven.
(For the record...that red thing is not the kerosene lamp. It's a glassybaby.)
I took the day off of work, today. I also got a lot done, between marking up stuff for our impending garage sale (a several-hour process) and shopping for new jeans (highly important). But I also had time to pick up some new essentials.
I stopped by the bookstore today and made a beeline for the cookbooks, and picked up one that is entirely devoted to grilled cheese sandwiches. No joke. 50 recipes for different kinds of grilled cheese sandwiches, plus a few soups, salads, and toppings to go with. The pictures are making me drool all over the keyboard. Please excuse. I also picked up a Vegetarian cookbook out of mere curiosity at the range of things possible without meat, and also because the amount of curry recipes within make me want to cry. In a good way.
Besides, I have an uncanny ability to befriend vegetarians, usually without my immediate knowledge, and I'm sure I'll meet many more over the course of the rest of my life. Best to be prepared as a cook for whatever life throws your way, right? Right.
The mixture of smells in my room right now is making me dizzy. Kerosene and two scented candles, plus the Eucalyptus-Spearmint room spray I may or may not have over-sprayed in an effort to fully enjoy the scent. So sue me, it's nice.
Yep, this is a little corner of my world. In this picture alone you can see three hurricane lamps, if you look hard enough. And lots of candles. And the giraffes that my dad brought back from Kenya for me. And one of the set of six drinking glasses I may or may not have stolen from my married friends. But they didn't want them, as I recall, so I think we're good. That teacup and that fan were both my Nana's. I'll let you decide which of the two is actually authentically old. That purple feather is the top of my quill pen, and ring is my Claddagh. And that pitcher full of stuff? It has a bouquet of daisies and cornflowers (fake) in it, as well as knitting needles (not fake). Then there's the flowerpot full of pens and pencils, and the wall covered in photos. And my (not quite exact) quote from Rabbi Heschel: "I asked for wonder, and He gave it to me."
I think everyone needs a corner like this one. Well, not exactly like it. But something similar. Where everything just seems right. And good.
Anyway. About to pass out from the fumes. G'night.
-The GLS
Monday, July 5, 2010
I Have Met the Enemy and It Is Plastic.
I'm sitting here in a striped cardigan, with Paul & Art (yep, we're tight) spinning on the phonograph and a room that has spent all day under seige. Bags of recycling old schoolwork, bags of trash, bags of things to sell, bags of clothes that didn't fit me even when I bought them. Bags and bags and boxes and boxes.
Out of curiosity, since when did plastic become the height of aesthetic? Yeah, okay since never. I know. It merely became the height of convenience, didn't it? It's cheaper, and easier, and simpler.
And uglier.
Let's just be honest. Plastic is pretty ugly. Sure, pretty things can be DONE with it, but usually the things that surround us made of plastic were not designed with beauty in mind. Utility, maybe. Ease of cleaning, sure. But style? Not necessarily.
I know I'm a sap, but I have a Luddite depreciation for plastic. I use it, of course, when necessary. Where would I be without my vinyl records? Or my electric kettle, which is sturdy white plastic? Or the pens and mechanical pencils I use every day? Plastic is here to stay, of course, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
So I flew in the face of plastic today. Three times! First, I replaced a garish yellow plastic tub that had housed my nail polish since...what...fourth grade (?)...with a tiny wooden crate purchased secondhand from Value Village. Looks nicer, and now the yellow tub can go into the garage sale pile and be purchased by someone who actually likes it and will use it for the eons it will last. Thanks for lasting forever, plastic.
Second...well, and third...I bought two glass bottles. You know the ones. With the skinny necks and little pour spouts on them for oil and vinegar. But they're not FOR oil and vinegar. Not in my room, heck no. The small one is for liquid hand soap, yessir. And the bigger one with a cork in the top is for the honey I pour in my tea. Now the one is sitting next to my bathroom sink, and the other is very demurely waiting beside my electric kettle. And oh, don't they look so much better than plastic!
Now, to be truly eco-friendly I have to find a way of buying both honey and soap in bulk and refilling the bottles dutifully. We'll see how that goes.
However, plastic always wins, in the end.
I used my (quite plastic) debit card to buy the stuff.
D'oh!
-The GLS
Out of curiosity, since when did plastic become the height of aesthetic? Yeah, okay since never. I know. It merely became the height of convenience, didn't it? It's cheaper, and easier, and simpler.
And uglier.
Let's just be honest. Plastic is pretty ugly. Sure, pretty things can be DONE with it, but usually the things that surround us made of plastic were not designed with beauty in mind. Utility, maybe. Ease of cleaning, sure. But style? Not necessarily.
I know I'm a sap, but I have a Luddite depreciation for plastic. I use it, of course, when necessary. Where would I be without my vinyl records? Or my electric kettle, which is sturdy white plastic? Or the pens and mechanical pencils I use every day? Plastic is here to stay, of course, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
So I flew in the face of plastic today. Three times! First, I replaced a garish yellow plastic tub that had housed my nail polish since...what...fourth grade (?)...with a tiny wooden crate purchased secondhand from Value Village. Looks nicer, and now the yellow tub can go into the garage sale pile and be purchased by someone who actually likes it and will use it for the eons it will last. Thanks for lasting forever, plastic.
Second...well, and third...I bought two glass bottles. You know the ones. With the skinny necks and little pour spouts on them for oil and vinegar. But they're not FOR oil and vinegar. Not in my room, heck no. The small one is for liquid hand soap, yessir. And the bigger one with a cork in the top is for the honey I pour in my tea. Now the one is sitting next to my bathroom sink, and the other is very demurely waiting beside my electric kettle. And oh, don't they look so much better than plastic!
Now, to be truly eco-friendly I have to find a way of buying both honey and soap in bulk and refilling the bottles dutifully. We'll see how that goes.
However, plastic always wins, in the end.
I used my (quite plastic) debit card to buy the stuff.
D'oh!
-The GLS
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Hip Hooray for the Plaid, White and Blue!
(That's...what I was wearing today. Don't judge me.)
There's something about the Fourth of July that brings out the giddy little kid in me. I didn't realize it until this year, either. Something fun about the idea of barbecue, wearing the national colors, and watching the fireworks surrounded by friends and family. I get all excited, and a little choked up, and I'm not even sure why.
Granted, this year was pretty staid, as far as celebrations go. We had an ENORMOUS meal at my grandpa's house, and I even made peach cobbler (which was REALLY good...I blame the cast iron for that...). But it was raining at my grandpa's house, and it didn't feel like July, and it was easy to be ho-hum and irritated about the whole thing.
But...you know what? I love this country. Sure, I don't always agree with the direction it's going. And sure, I don't think we're always right. And sure, I feel stupid by default sometimes in foreign countries when I tell them where I'm from.
But I'm also related to several veterans, and friends with several more. And I can still appreciate the image of the flag waving in the breeze. And I'm not so jaded that I can't get down on my knees and thank God for a country where we're free enough to complain without fear of arrest. And I can still get a little choked up when I sit on the roof, wearing several layers in July, and listen to the explosions all up and down the coast and hear the cheering and KNOW that all across the nation there are millions more voices cheering, too.
I can still appreciate what has been done for me, and is CONTINUING to be done for me every day by people braver than I am. I may be a prospective hobbit wife, but I can still appreciate all that.
And for the record? Someday, my Fourth of July celebrations are going to be epic. There will be an enormous and thoroughly casual barbecue with free-flowing drinks and more peach cobbler than you could ever imagine. And when the darkness sets in, there will be a campfire for roasting homemade marshmallows and laughing and chatting and telling stories. Churning ice cream, checkered tablecloths, and most of all: good friends. Watching the fireworks blasting overhead and thanking God for who we are, what we are, and how we are free to live.
God bless America.
-The GLS
There's something about the Fourth of July that brings out the giddy little kid in me. I didn't realize it until this year, either. Something fun about the idea of barbecue, wearing the national colors, and watching the fireworks surrounded by friends and family. I get all excited, and a little choked up, and I'm not even sure why.
Granted, this year was pretty staid, as far as celebrations go. We had an ENORMOUS meal at my grandpa's house, and I even made peach cobbler (which was REALLY good...I blame the cast iron for that...). But it was raining at my grandpa's house, and it didn't feel like July, and it was easy to be ho-hum and irritated about the whole thing.
But...you know what? I love this country. Sure, I don't always agree with the direction it's going. And sure, I don't think we're always right. And sure, I feel stupid by default sometimes in foreign countries when I tell them where I'm from.
But I'm also related to several veterans, and friends with several more. And I can still appreciate the image of the flag waving in the breeze. And I'm not so jaded that I can't get down on my knees and thank God for a country where we're free enough to complain without fear of arrest. And I can still get a little choked up when I sit on the roof, wearing several layers in July, and listen to the explosions all up and down the coast and hear the cheering and KNOW that all across the nation there are millions more voices cheering, too.
I can still appreciate what has been done for me, and is CONTINUING to be done for me every day by people braver than I am. I may be a prospective hobbit wife, but I can still appreciate all that.
And for the record? Someday, my Fourth of July celebrations are going to be epic. There will be an enormous and thoroughly casual barbecue with free-flowing drinks and more peach cobbler than you could ever imagine. And when the darkness sets in, there will be a campfire for roasting homemade marshmallows and laughing and chatting and telling stories. Churning ice cream, checkered tablecloths, and most of all: good friends. Watching the fireworks blasting overhead and thanking God for who we are, what we are, and how we are free to live.
God bless America.
-The GLS
Saturday, July 3, 2010
The Stupid Purple Scarf.
So, awhile back, I started knitting a Stupid Purple Scarf. To be fair, when I started it, it wasn't stupid yet.
It came directly on the heels of my first (inadvertent) shawl experience, the shawl which was SUPPOSED to be a scarf.
After I finished the Big Green Shawl, I still wanted to use the pattern to make a scarf, so I started a new one. Although this time, in shades of purple.
Well, I got a few stripes into it and then lost interest.
The stupid part started growing as I left the scarf un-knitted in the bottom of the basket I keep my mugs in. It took up room (being that it involved three skeins of purple yarn), it was teasing me to finish it, but I got so irritated with those darn STRIPES.
So I left it alone. For months.
Until a few nights ago, when I picked it back up and completed the pattern WITHOUT the stripes. It looked a little gawky, but at least it was DONE.
Then, I spent all of this evening putting tassles on the dumb thing. The tassles were to serve two purposes. One, to satisfy my need to put tassles on things. And two, to hide the ends of the striped section so I wouldn't have to weave them in. Because I'm lazy like that.
The result? REALLY THICK TASSLES.
And when I say THICK, I mean THICK. Cushy, even.
But it's still wrapped around my neck, and it's quite warm and cozy, and it's even slightly big enough to drape around my shoulders as a shawlette.
The part you CAN'T see in these photos is that my brand new white tank top is covered in purple fuzz. But, you know, that's why this scarf is stupid.
-The GLS
It came directly on the heels of my first (inadvertent) shawl experience, the shawl which was SUPPOSED to be a scarf.
After I finished the Big Green Shawl, I still wanted to use the pattern to make a scarf, so I started a new one. Although this time, in shades of purple.
Well, I got a few stripes into it and then lost interest.
The stupid part started growing as I left the scarf un-knitted in the bottom of the basket I keep my mugs in. It took up room (being that it involved three skeins of purple yarn), it was teasing me to finish it, but I got so irritated with those darn STRIPES.
So I left it alone. For months.
Until a few nights ago, when I picked it back up and completed the pattern WITHOUT the stripes. It looked a little gawky, but at least it was DONE.
Then, I spent all of this evening putting tassles on the dumb thing. The tassles were to serve two purposes. One, to satisfy my need to put tassles on things. And two, to hide the ends of the striped section so I wouldn't have to weave them in. Because I'm lazy like that.
The result? REALLY THICK TASSLES.
And when I say THICK, I mean THICK. Cushy, even.
But it's still wrapped around my neck, and it's quite warm and cozy, and it's even slightly big enough to drape around my shoulders as a shawlette.
The part you CAN'T see in these photos is that my brand new white tank top is covered in purple fuzz. But, you know, that's why this scarf is stupid.
-The GLS
Friday, July 2, 2010
Pledges and Purple and Peach Tea.
I just started on the second part of my exciting, summertime top-secret knitting project. More information as it comes, but it will certainly be fun. I think knitting in the summer is a strange, but perfectly acceptable form of entertainment. After all...knitting in the winter actually seems sort of weird. Don't you want the knitting DONE by winter so you can actually use it? Of course you do.
I'm also going to make a pledge to either frog or finish some of the projects that have been sitting around for months, like the Stupid Purple Scarf I started in, like, January. Finish the dang sucker, you!! So I will.
This holiday weekend is going to be very busy, very fun, and very full. Celebrations, cookery, knitting, books to read, music to listen to, baby showers to attend. So much hobbitness! Yikes! I can hardly wait to get started!
But for now, this week has completely mowed me over and I feel a cold coming on. So, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you now so I can go sip some peach black tea and finish the Stupid Purple Scarf.
-The GLS
I'm also going to make a pledge to either frog or finish some of the projects that have been sitting around for months, like the Stupid Purple Scarf I started in, like, January. Finish the dang sucker, you!! So I will.
This holiday weekend is going to be very busy, very fun, and very full. Celebrations, cookery, knitting, books to read, music to listen to, baby showers to attend. So much hobbitness! Yikes! I can hardly wait to get started!
But for now, this week has completely mowed me over and I feel a cold coming on. So, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you now so I can go sip some peach black tea and finish the Stupid Purple Scarf.
-The GLS
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Gutsy Little Novel...
Hobbies and passions are funny things. One day, you can be minding your own business, dabbling happily in a little knitting, a little cooking, ho-humming your way through life. Here a little singing, there a little picking at the piano. Nothing crushing. Nothing particularly inspiring. Just a bit of a muddle of things to do.
And then...suddenly...an old novel idea that has troughed and crested its way through your psyche for five years suddenly shows up, smacks you upside the head, and DEMANDS to be made front and center once again.
So now, I'm dragging out old inspiring songs on the iPod, looking for the best and most portable (but still thick enough/correctly-ruled) notebooks, and quivering with the excitement that only writing gives me.
Understand, I've been happily writing short stories here and there for a little while, so I don't think I'm going to leap into writing this stupid thing again full-tilt. This idea has a sign on it that reads CAUTION: VEHICLE MAKES FREQUENT STOPS.
But it's worth dragging out, dusting off, and trying again. Here a little sketching, there a few notes, character motivations, maps of unfamiliar landscapes, research of cultures and references, all that stuff that I get really excited just THINKING about! After all, if it's stuck with me this long and gone through this many adaptations, there must be SOMETHING to it, right?
Now, where do you suppose I could find a Moleskine at 11:00pm?
-The GLS
And then...suddenly...an old novel idea that has troughed and crested its way through your psyche for five years suddenly shows up, smacks you upside the head, and DEMANDS to be made front and center once again.
So now, I'm dragging out old inspiring songs on the iPod, looking for the best and most portable (but still thick enough/correctly-ruled) notebooks, and quivering with the excitement that only writing gives me.
Understand, I've been happily writing short stories here and there for a little while, so I don't think I'm going to leap into writing this stupid thing again full-tilt. This idea has a sign on it that reads CAUTION: VEHICLE MAKES FREQUENT STOPS.
But it's worth dragging out, dusting off, and trying again. Here a little sketching, there a few notes, character motivations, maps of unfamiliar landscapes, research of cultures and references, all that stuff that I get really excited just THINKING about! After all, if it's stuck with me this long and gone through this many adaptations, there must be SOMETHING to it, right?
Now, where do you suppose I could find a Moleskine at 11:00pm?
-The GLS
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