BurningbirdLike it says, just stuff.
Another story in the news is two new Hubble images released by NASA to celebrate the telescope’s 15 year anniversary.
The Eagle Nebula:
And the Whirlpool Galaxy:
It’s good to be reminded that life is full of moments of infinite beauty, if we only choose to see them. Even when you spill a large container of straight pens all over the bedroom carpet — see how pretty they sparkle in the light?
(Be sure to check out the Hubble Minute video on the anniversary.)
I don’t know whether it is the sudden hot weather, or the fact that I’ve been having problems sleeping, but today I’ve been feeling somewhat lethargic and very tired. I expect that it shows in my writing, much less the delay in getting the second release out of Wordform. I wish I could be inspired to finish one of the half-dozen writings I’ve started; but after checking with each one today, they all let me know that they weren’t in the mood to be done, so there you go.
Seeing no hope for productivity in writing or code, I cleaned house this afternoon and made potato salad and fried chicken; I also cleaned up my TiBook by burning close to 10G of photo CDs and removing most of the pictures from my hard drive.
Now all I want to do is sit in my chair and watch old, old movies and sleep. But I’ll be good and try to get out for at least a little walk, and do a little code and post a few more photos out at flickr. Maybe by that time one of my drafts will be ready to ‘come over’ to the light and stop resisting my efforts to finish.
So easy to start, but so hard to finish at times. I’m talking abour writing, of course. All it takes to start a post is to get (enraged, inspired) and write a sentence or two or five; then the intial enthusiasm begins to stall and all of a sudden you wonder if the writing is really any good, or the topic of interest, and why are you writing this, anyway? So you click the ‘Draft’ button and add it to the other pile of good intentions that sit there in your weblogging tool. They don’t even have the decency to be hidden or out of the way with WordPress and Wordform. No they’re all there, at the top of all admin edit pages–like dead fish hanging off a fishing line. Dead fish eyes looking at you every time you start a new post rather than finish one of them.
I think I’ll change Wordform to only allow two drafts at most, and if you try to add a third it brings up a message saying, “Why don’t you finish one of your drafts, first, before starting another work?” Or, “Are you sure you want to start another writing? You don’t have the best record of finishing, you know.” Or even, “Too many unfinished weblog posts is the leading cause of deviant behavior in men and women over 40.”
After all, we’re talking about Web 2.0 here; what better start than to build in a nag mode? Think about the possibilities of a nag mode. If you don’t post at least once every few days, it automatically sends you an email crying out, “Feed me!” Connect it with a telephony backend and it could be programmed to call you, too.
“Hi dear, this is your weblog. I’ve missed you! How come you never write to me any more?”
You know, if I didn’t warn people about this, it could be worth a giggle. In fact, you know what else would be funny? If I were to add….
No, no, no. Never mind.
Hey, how about that. I just finished a post. Miss Energy USA, that’s me.
Yesterday was a gray day with mixed rain and snow and slushy grounds and the threat of ice on the road. However, I’ve made a pact with myself to get out and walk everyday, regardless of the weather–around the neighborhood if I absolutely must, though I hate walking through city streets, and on cement.
Walking lately has gone beyond being just something I enjoy to be become both my medicine and my salvation. There is an invisible barrier on my front door that reads, “In case of assholes, stress, or malaise, break”, and I break it daily. If the weather is good and it’s been dry for a couple of days, I head for a real hike, or to find another mill or other bit of old stuff to photograph. However, if the weather isn’t so great, I just head to one of the usual places–Shaw, Powder, the Botanical Gardens, Tower, or others close in and familiar. On these close in hikes in bad weather, I don’t take my camera, but I sometimes take my radio headset, which is a rather quaint thing that fits over my hears, has a radio tuner and a little antenna that sticks up, making me look like a Martian. It isn’t sexy, and doesn’t have white ear buds, but I’m partial to the old thing and wouldn’t think of replacing it.
Not long ago Dave Rogers wrote about how we define our own worlds, sinking further into ourselves rather than paying attention to our surroundings and each other. I thought about this yesterday when listening to my favorite oldies station as I walked along the road at Shaw. It’s a rare event indeed when there is no one at this park and with the paths so mucky, I decided to walk the road that circles the lake. I was really enjoying having the place to myself and the music, as the station plays really great music on Saturdays with hardly any commercial interruptions. In fact, after a while I was walking less and dancing more, and it was when I was listening to Dusty Springfield’s Son of a Preacher Man that I decided to get off the road and into the snowy/slushy fields and do a little dancing among the geese. Though they seemed a bit confused by my actions, they eventually went back to their eating, ignoring this odd human gyrating in their midst.
Now, while I was prancing about, using my hiking stick to pretend to hit sloppy ice balls into the lake, folks may have driven by, pausing to view the crazy woman before moving, most likely hurridly, along, but I didn’t know because I wouldn’t be able to hear them over Preacher Man, Wild Thing, or the other tunes that followed. Which I guess goes to show that sometimes being in our own worlds can be marvelously liberating.
I’ve also been thinking of getting a hand held digital voice recorder to take with me on my trips to record experiences on days such as this, when I’m full of the intoxication of living the life of the village idiot. Especially after listening to Chris aka Stavros the Wonderchicken’s recording of one of his posts this week. Who would have known that the man has such as wonderful, smoky, sexy voice as that? What made it even more special was the Canadian accent. Sort of Hemingway and Nanook of the North, collapsed into one irresistable package. Seriously, if more people podcast in this manner, I may have to consider getting one of this plastic white things with the silly ear buds.
One song I had hoped they would play yesterday is Melanie’s Brand New Key. Remember that? If you do, then you’re most likely older than dirt, as I tested out to be at Ken Camp’s History Quiz. I had a terrific time with this quiz, but the reference in it to roller skate key reminded me when skates were off foot rather than inline, which led to this great, great song.
I rode my bicycle past your window last night
I roller skated to your door at daylight
It almost seems like you’re avoiding me
I’m okay alone, but you got something I needWell, I got a brand new pair of roller skates
You got a brand new key
I think that we should get together and try them out you see
I been looking around awhile
You got something for me
Oh! I got a brand new pair of roller skates
You got a brand new keyI ride my bike, I roller skate, don’t drive no car
Don’t go too fast, but I go pretty far
For somebody who don’t drive
I been all around the world
Some people say, I done all right for a girlWell, I got a brand new pair of roller skates
You got a brand new key
I think that we should get together and try them out you see
I been looking around awhile
You got something for me
Oh! I got a brand new pair of roller skates
You got a brand new keyI asked your mother if you were at home
She said, yes .. but you weren’t alone
Oh, sometimes I think that you’re avoiding me
I’m okay alone, but you’ve got something I needWell, I got a brand new pair of roller skates
You got a brand new key
I think that we should get together and try them out to see
La la la la la la la la, la la la la la la
Oh! I got a brand new pair of roller skates
You got a brand new key.
Today’s lyrics with their explicit references to sex and swearing are so dull compared to the playful metaphors and lyrical winking embedded in songs such as this. Yeah, I got a pair of roller skates, boy, and you got a new key. I looked for this song at iTunes, but of course it didn’t have it. None of the online music stores had it, either in digital form or on CD. However, I did find a wav of the song online in a page with other old classics that tried to install spyware, but I grabbed the song and ran. I am so bad.
With music like that rolling around you, how can you not dance in the fields with the geese? What think, Jeneane? Would you go to a conference that played Brand New Key as anthem? Seems a good song for folks in the tail. And it sure beats looking at monkey bottoms or dreaming about RSS. Though come to think on it, I did dream about a pancreas last night. A great big, 3 story tall bright orange-pink pancreas that was standing on end in an art warehouse.
I guess that’s what you get from dancing with geese. Speaking of which, welcome home, Loren! The trail is calling, but watch out for the geese.
(BTW, if anyone has recommendations for a good but inexpensive hand held digital voice recorder that can be used to create podcasts, please drop me a note.)
If you access my front page you’ll see that I’ve made a temporary modification to include random photos. This doesn’t signal a redesign as much as a need to add a little bright color to my page. I was inspired to this move, as I sit inside and watch yet another thunderstorm roll past.
These thunderstorms shouldn’t be here. It is supposed to be in the 30’s, with cold, clear days just perfect for hiking. It’s not supposed to be in the 60’s one day, and then less than 48 hours later, in the 20’s, and then 48 hours later, back into the 60’s again. And no sunshine at all. I feel as if I’ve been transported back to the Northwest.
Luckily the orchid show is coming up so I can count on some color there. And I think I’ll visit the gardens this week and see the camilias in bloom. Anything to get out of the house and into something resembling the Great Outdoors.
Of course, I could add a little more color if I was in the mood to spend money, and buy one of those new mini Macs that just came out today. Cute little buggers, though color might not be the right word to use for them; they only come in Apple basic white. Still, for being an affordable Mac, adding bluetooth and Airport shoots the price up to $628.00 and that’s with going with the basic setup. I would, of course, want to cram it full of memory and with the biggest hard drive I could. And then I’d have to add a monitor and get a mouse and…frankly, a trip to Florida or Arizona would be cheaper.
But it is cute. And I’m surrounded by people with new toys. I want a new toy.
Maybe I should get the iShuttle instead. Then, by adding a new headset with noise cancelling microphone, I would have the beginnings of my own podcasting setup. Better yet! Some kind of digital recording device I could take on my hikes, and then be able to share with you every warble, buzz, mumble, stumble, and branch snapping aspect of my trips into the deep, vast wilderness.
But these are wants. Fun wants, but wants. I have everything I need.
Still, when you compare things for size, that mini Mac is awfully tempting.
Recovered from the Wayback Machine.
I was at the pharmacy today and stopped by the mint and gum section to pick up some cinnamon Altoids. I like all the mint flavors, but cinnamon is my favorite.
They were out of cinnamon, but did have some new flavors I hadn’t seen before, including a line of sour fruit such as Sour Tangerine and Sour Apple. What the hey, the tin is nice. I grabbed the apple.
If you’ve had Altoids you know that when the company says something is ’strong’ it’s strong. Well, the same could be said of ’sour’. I tried one of the new mints after dinner, and had to spit it out after just a few seconds. It was the most awful, sour thing I’ve had in my life. Perhaps it needs vodka to make it palatable.
I’ve never understood the interest in food that is so strong, it burns, makes us grimace, wince, or sweat.
Tin’s pretty at least.
