When I was eleven, we lived on Brown Street in Tucson and I was in Mrs. Carson's 6th grade class. Mrs. Carson was a gorgeous blonde, tall and slender, and I was -- hands down -- the worst part about her first year at her first job. She hated me with intensity and was new enough she didn't know to hide it. I was super smart, but I was a big liar and full of bravado and I acted like hellspawn to everyone. It was some weird combination of hormones and not having friends (it was the only year we spent in Tucson), but, gawd, if she could have strangled me she would have. And I totally deserved it because I was an incredible brat.
One morning, we were having our physical education period and we were practicing high jump under her uncharacteristically disinterested supervision and I trashed my ankle. I twisted it so badly that it practically exploded. It got so swollen so fast that I can't even imagine the number of tendons and muscles and ligaments I must have torn. I remember she looked at it and kind of went "Eh, I guess you can go see the nurse."
In her defense, this was way back before they had P.E. specialists for middle-schoolers, and way back before teachers and schools really took responsibility for kids. And it was her first job. But damn, my ankle was trashed. I didn't break anything, but I ended up spending eight weeks in a cast.
I think that Mrs. Carson became one of those teachers who learned to really look out for kids like me, and save us from ourselves, but she wasn't at the time.
Anyway, I bring all of that up because on Friday night I twisted the shrieking crap out of the same ankle.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Hostas
My mom visited in early April (for Keeneland) and we sat in the yard one afternoon drinking wine and she tsked, "What's that?" gesturing vaguely at a stumpy part of my yard. "Those are hostas," I said.
She had never heard of them so, mom, if you're checking your Google Reader, these are hostas. I admit they do seem like a bit of a blight in the winter, but they're nice now.
I'll post another picture when they bloom.
Click for a better look.
She had never heard of them so, mom, if you're checking your Google Reader, these are hostas. I admit they do seem like a bit of a blight in the winter, but they're nice now.
I'll post another picture when they bloom.
Click for a better look.
I Can See My House From Here!
It started with a link I got from my fellow conspiracy theorists about what the Google cameras look like:
http://sfcitizen.com/blog/2008/06/16/the-united-states-park-police-vs-the-google-maps-car-san-francsicos-presidio/
And then we started talking about it -- and it is pretty fabulous to see a place so easily -- and were looking at everyone's houses and commenting things like, "Oh, yeah, that's when so and so was adding the new sunroom. Look, you can see the construction." Since I live in a fairly new, gated community I didn't think I'd see much, but, heh, I would be surprised.
Look! They came on trash day!
To try this for your own house, go to maps.google.com, enter a street address, select "Search maps," select "Street view." They're often not exactly on the address, but click the white runner to move backward and forward. Also, not all addresses are available yet.
http://sfcitizen.com/blog/2008/06/16/the-united-states-park-police-vs-the-google-maps-car-san-francsicos-presidio/
And then we started talking about it -- and it is pretty fabulous to see a place so easily -- and were looking at everyone's houses and commenting things like, "Oh, yeah, that's when so and so was adding the new sunroom. Look, you can see the construction." Since I live in a fairly new, gated community I didn't think I'd see much, but, heh, I would be surprised.
Look! They came on trash day!
To try this for your own house, go to maps.google.com, enter a street address, select "Search maps," select "Street view." They're often not exactly on the address, but click the white runner to move backward and forward. Also, not all addresses are available yet.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Master Pumpkin Carver
For example...
If we'd been doing this last fall, I would have shared with you that my friend Farmer's Wife and I won a pumpkin carving contest. I think the key to our success was the footnote in the rules that you could accessorize the pumpkin.
I give you NASCAR Cindy.
p.s. This picture does absolutely no justice to the magnificence of the piece -- it was fabu. Click on the image to see it in its full glory!
And yes, that is spray on glitter.
Keeping Up With the Joneses
To my brother and sisters (I mean that literally, I'm sorry, but this isn't an open invite to the blogosphere):
I'm terrible about keeping up with everyone so I'm hoping you'd be interested in starting our own network of blogs. I'm too old for myspace and too cranky and impatient to actually write letters.
For my part, I can share my travel pictures and silly art projects, and you can share news of whatever interests you:
Come on! Try it! I'll go first!
I'm terrible about keeping up with everyone so I'm hoping you'd be interested in starting our own network of blogs. I'm too old for myspace and too cranky and impatient to actually write letters.
For my part, I can share my travel pictures and silly art projects, and you can share news of whatever interests you:
- Children
- Pets
- Causes
- Recipes
- Golf scores
- Photographs
- Home decor
- Upcoming events
Come on! Try it! I'll go first!
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