Stuff Around The House #14

This is number 14 in my never ending series of stuff around the house. These are some objects placed on a shelf behind where I sit when working on the computer. Some of the stuff was put there on purpose, other things just ended up there. The Russian on the box means "bird" - it had a metal windup bird in it.

I received an award

I received an award from Heather the other day.  Its the first award anyone's given me and I was caught off guard.  I appreciate it, but still I stared at it for awhile.  And thought about it for awhile longer. This is what I do, even if it does not come out in whatever I write.  I tend to think about things.  Not important things so much, just things.

So anyway, if I understand correctly (a big if), I'm supposed to list 7 things about myself and pass it on.  I don't know about passing it on - I mean who am I to give someone an award?  Most blogs I read are a lot more involved & require a lot more work & insight than mine does.   I don't feel qualified, so I may pass on that part of it.   (Pass on passing it on.  I was reading this over and that struck me as humorous).

But anyway - here's 7 things about me anyone who reads this may or may not know.

1)  I am 6 feet 2 1/2 inches tall, more or less.  For the rest of the world that's 1.88 meters, give or take, I reckon.  I'm going on what a conversion program tells me, I'm not fluent in metric.  I have basic conversational abilities in metric, I could go into a metric restaurant & get something to eat, find my way around a metric town without too much problem, buy some metric groceries perhaps, but I'd have problems with metric dialects or regionalisms.  I know miles per gallon pretty well, but kilometers per liter just freaks me out.   At any rate,  I'm  taller than average, but not freakishly so....1.88 meters sounds small to me, but I'm sure that's just my provincialism showing through.

2) I spent 7 interesting years in the US Army.  Looking back on it, I had a complete disconnect between what my job was, and the extreme amount of danger the tactical portion of it could have placed me in, given the right conditions.  Being young & inexperienced probably had something to do with that.

3) I'm conflicted about whether I'm a dog person or a cat person.  I have one of each.  And even though Pickles the Dog gets more words in this blog than does Snowchief the Cat, Snowchief has been around for about 17 years now, and is much more affectionate than Pickles.   Pickles is more "needy" than Snowchief, but that's only because Snowchief couldn't give a flying you know what about what you think about anything.  He's a cat.

4) In 1990 I bought an entry level Saab 900 3-door hatchback, and proceeded to put over 250,000 miles on it during the next ten years.   I miss that ol' Saab.

5)  I have a sense of humor, sometimes it shows.

6)  My favorite book is "Life: A User's Manual" by Georges Perec.  Its translated from French into English, and I feel a bit lesser for the fact that I cannot speak or read French.  I hate depending on translators, 'cause you have to depend on them for all the nuances & cultural references and stuff.   I have tons of trouble with Kafka, more than any other author on earth just about.  I just have trouble following his stories and logic, and I've always blamed myself, my own limitations.  But what if its the translator, not me?  Yeah, that's the ticket.   Dumb ol' translators.

7)  I'm married to Patti Anne, sometimes referred to as Miss Patti.    

Pickles & Me Walking Home

Just a lazy Sunday afternoon in Valdese.

It's A Recipe - But For What?

I came across this old postcard that had a recipe on back, but since both the sender & receiver knew what it was for, the sender did not think to enliven later generations.   It's postmarked Boston, Mass., Sep 7, 1934, and the front is a picture of Jamaica Pond in Brookline, MA.   It was sent to an address is Belmont, MA.  Click on the picture to make it larger (at least that works for me).  

I'll transcribe it here so maybe someone can figure out what it means.   It'd be cool to try to reproduce it.  Perhaps.  

Here goes:

You forgot the recipe on Thursday evening & I am writing it along.

half cup of butter; one cup of sugar, two cups flour sifted twice, two teaspoons baking powder, two teaspoons vanilla, half cup milk scant(?), salt, three eggs, the whites beaten stiff and added last.  Bake in 350 F. for one hour.

I think it's a cake of some kind, but I'm not positive.  And if it is, I'm not sure what flavor it would end up being, but most likely some form of vanilla.  I'm also not sure what the word after "milk" is. 

I liked the interesting turn of phrases in it - "I am writing it along", instead of I am sending it along.   And "Bake in" instead of bake at.

Anyway, this is a 75 year old recipe for something, with no need to mention how much salt was required.  In I think a lot of stuff in this recipe is "assumed".  No need to explain something that everybody would know.  

Chalk up another one for postcards.  

Cigarette Smoke

I've bought 2 semi-large lots of items this month, from two different sellers,  one about 15 CDVs and another 52 Cabinet Cards. I paid more than I really wanted to for these items, but they looked like good quality items, and I felt that I could probably make a profit on them.

They both came saturated with cigarette smoke.   I cannot resell these items when they smell this way.  There are ways to get the cigarette smell out of paper items, but it takes awhile, and I'm not sure that it's ever 100%.  In the mean time I've got some really nice inventory that I dont feel I can sell for awhile.

Add two sellers to the list of sellers I will not buy from again.  I think my list is up to 4 now.

Flu Shot

Got my seasonal flu shot today - at the lovely Food Lion Supermarket - a place where at least 1/4 of the people are insane 1/2 the time.   I don't really like going in there, but at least I wasn't buying groceries.   In the aisles, between the shelves, amongst the rows of food is where most of the insane things in Food Lion happen & I avoided that.

So anyway, this is the seasonal shot, and as far as I know there is very little if any seasonal flu going around right now.  Swine flu is another story, there's quite a bit of that about, but there's no vaccine available for it yet, at least not in these parts.  

When I was standing in line, I noticed that almost everybody else in line was older than I am. That made me feel good.  And when I got to the table, they didn't even ask if I had medicare, which made me feel better, since I'm nowhere near old enough to qualify for medicare.   Not even close. Closer than I was last year I guess, but still, not close.  

So, I'm protected against something, for awhile at least. 

I need a haircut

I looked at myself in the mirror today. It's unusual for me to look at myself in a mirror - I tend to avoid mirrors, and not because of any supernatural reason, like being a vampire. I'm not. I just prefer not to look at my reflection if I can help it. So I may be standing in front of a mirror for some reason, but make no assumption that I'm looking at myself.

But yesterday (or the day before, I can't remember) I shaved, and I looked in the mirror then. I looked and I thought, goodness, my hair's getting long. I need a haircut. Society demands it.

I personally have nothing against haircuts. In fact I've been mulling over the possibility of getting one for almost a month now - don't want to rush into things. When I do get a haircut, I'm usually satisfied with, or at the very least ambivalent about the results. I never ask for my hair back, even if it doesnt turn out the way I like it.

But I don't like getting haircuts. I despise the act, in fact. Its all the socialization involved, sometimes the people cutting your hair want to talk, and normally I'd prefer not to. I'm also not that happy with strange people so close to my face, especially with sharp objects. I feel the awkwardness of leaving tips, never really knowing if I'm leaving too much or not enough. And there are other intangibles involved - the biggest one being that once you get a haircut, everybody knows it. I'd prefer not to give people a reason to notice me too much - and a fresh haircut gives people a perfect excuse to start talking to you about things.

"Oh you look so much better with a haircut"

Hmmmm. What did I look like before? Anyway, I need a haircut. And before too much longer, I'll take a deep breath and go get one.