Yes, once again it.... Hibiscus Time

7/11/07b

OK, I just have to ask... who in the hell still carries around a flask?
http://aagro.blogspot.com/2007/07/flask-etiquette-for-dummies.html

7/11/07

Our neighbors to the east are just damned unfriendly. Now you must realize that I'm not particularly friendly either but I don't consider myself *UN*friendly. It took a full three greetings this evening to get even the merest acknowledgment from them. I did the neighborly wave. Nothing. I did the nod and smile. Nothing. I finally calmed it down to just a simple nod and got back half a nod. Heck, it could have been nothing more than an involuntary spasm. Point is, why are we so damn keen as a society to isolate ourselves. I'd very happily make acquaintances with the rather grim-looking people next door but my repeated attempts to approach them have resulted in nothing but sour milk.

I started another couple of holes today. One for the huge tree that is to come over from the in-laws yard when their pool goes in and a smaller for the happy $10 twigs I keep dragging home from the home improvement store. For some reason, there's nothing quite so satisfying as digging a hole. Sure there's the sweat and the grit; it's no easy task to dig a big hole but somehow the thought of pounding through layers of soil and clay that no human has touched in hundreds or thousands of years (if ever) has a certain romance. Not to mention the fact that a hole is one of those few things that you can create no a whim from nothing but is in fact completely immovable.

The new word to work into my vocabulary for the day is 'bijou.' Rob was amused today to learn that one of the people in his company was leaving to pursue a new job. The fact that is combined this person's primary interests in live made it a great bijou. In fact, I'm at least completely jealous but it made me try to determine what my 'bijou' job would be. Botanist? I'm not trained for such a thing. Landscaper? Doesn't pay enough. I don't know but it'd clearly have to be something that actually used both halves of my brain. I can pump out code all day but the creative part of my job takes about 30 seconds a day on average and the part that requires me to think only about 12. Clearly computer programming is the new 'blue collar' job of the 21st century. I think more when I'm laying tile in the bathroom than when I'm doing my real job. So perhaps that's the optimal job... the one that changes so much and so often that it requires constant adjustment and personal evolution. Much better than one that exercises only your patience over your intellect.

I've been thinking for some time that having everyone home for the summer (and therefore as good as in my office 24/7) is starting to drive me a bit nuts. Problem was that I couldn't quite put my finger on WHY this was the case. I have a separate office so I can work away from people when needed. It's a constant source of amusement that I can always find a child to pester on a moments notice. It's nice to have more organized lunches and with someone here to do the laundry I needn't worry about as many household chores. On the surface this should be really beneficial. Then it struck me what was missing. I need some level of solitude, a time during the day when I can walk down the hall and scream at the top of my lungs for no reason whatsoever. I need to be able to talk to myself for 40 minutes about how appallingly the Oxford Rugby team is doing this year despite the fact I know nothing of the topic. Working at home has inflicted such a level of utter solitude on me that I now find I NEED it. When my family is home they're constantly underfoot, utterly inescapable. If our toddler isn't our running around or threatening to run up the stairs then she's asleep and you have to watch every sound you make. It's quite maddening and I think my wife is ready to go back to school as well. She's falling under the spell of cabin fever as she looks for any excuse to go to the mall and see over human faces.

Hrm. Annual in-person company meeting about a month away. This is where the at-home worker begins to ask, "Keep the mohawk or let it start to grow out?"

7/10/07

Today, like most days was miraculously uneventful. Well, not exactly miraculously perhaps.

I discovered today to my surprise that one of my work colleagues has horticultural aspirations. Since this falls in line with my current urge to propagate things from my garden I told him I would provide the odd infant sprout or two.

In place of my lunch I put in the second $10 tree in the back yard only to have my wife refer to them as hopelessly small. Clearly she's not overly endowed with patience. For $10 I'll happily accept quite a bit of 'twigginess' in my trees thank you very much.

The entry tile finally approaches completion. It has been sealed and partially trimmed and, in my opinion at least, looks quite tidy. The wife says simply that it looks 'fake'. My offers to rip it all up and start over are still being rejected.

My real job has become even more ponderous than usual. I find my mind wandering throughout ever-growing days punctuated only by heavy sighs like the smoke that rises from a slowly burning human soul. I can't help but get the impression that my boss is himself steaming under the usually calm facade and is ready to boil over any minute. I'll brace myself for an explosion in my direction.

On a more positive note, Little Women continues to be a joy. I'm thinking of publishing a family newspaper as the March's do but I'm uncertain the wife would participate.

Further on the topic of wives, I seem to be getting along with mine astonishingly well lately. I can't say why exactly but it seems indisputably to be the truth. I can imagine several factors that might contribute to this. Is she comparing me to her New York friend's husband in some favorable way? Is she finally just adjusting to being home for the summer? Perhaps her high school friends stories about her deadbeat ex-husband are finding their mark? Or is it is just that she's happy to be seeing her plans for the house come together? Hard to say but I've surely analyzed it enough now that any excessive connubial joy has been completely jinxed into oblivion.

7/9/2007

After months of neglect, it occurs to me that it may be beneficial to just randomly write some crap. Though I'll admit that it may be meaningless to any reader but the writer himself that matters little.

I was reminded today of the funniest thing I've ever said. Well, the funniest thing I'm currently aware of having said. Sadly, out of its proper context it's not really funny at all. "That elephant is stealing those cigarettes!" See. Completely not funny.

Today my brother-in-law after long neglecting his health has been admitted to the hospital. It remains to be seen where this long story will lead.

I'm currently on a plod-and-enjoy reading schedule. My plod is "The Education of Henry Adams". The assumed audience for this little tome knows a hell of a lot more about 19th century history than I do so it makes for a lot of question marks in my mind. At 10 pages a day, I can almost stay awake. The enjoy is a re-read of 'Little Women'. I'm trying to defeat the 'A's on my list so Alcott has come up again since it's been 6 years since I read this last. I have to say this is a devilishly enjoyable book despite the fact that I'm the wrong gender to fully appreciate it. Or, perhaps it's enjoyable simply as a counterpoint to the other things I've been reading lately. At any rate, I think I'll have to work the phrase "She's a real Mrs. March" into my speech patterns. Not, of course, that anybody will know what the hell I mean.

In the interest of expanding my horizons a bit I've subscribed to a few Magazines. For a weekly I subscribed to 'The New Yorker'. It's content seems promising and the amazon.com review that said, "If you want to be a snob, this magazine is a must-have" made this a sure thing. If anyone's a snob it's me. For a monthly I went with 'Harpers' and for a Quarterly 'The Strand'. On a similar streak I picked up a copy of 'The American Scholar' at Borders for investigative purposes. I'll admit that it covers a crazily eclectic range of topics but in at least a couple articles it makes my Bullshit Meter buzz crazily. Sadly it's hard to know how seriously to take these people.

Oh, before I forget to mention it at all, we forgave the Mike's Car Wash people. Long story short, my wife went through the car wash and heard a horrendous POP. Turns out, the blowers had dented the roof of the car. After much hassle Mike's agreed to pay for the repairs but when we got the estimates it amounted to over $1000 to replace the roof and windshield for a barely discernible dent. That seemed an extravagant amount to fix a barely discernible dent so we told Mike's to forget the whole thing and instead just give us a written guarantee that they'd follow through with their original offer to pay the $1000 if we went through again and something really awful happened. Needless to say, they were shocked into bewilderment but agreed to pay nothing and provide the paperwork. Anyway, one hopes that turns our karma wheel in a favorable direction.

Finally, with any luck the slate in the entryway should be done. I'll take a picture tomorrow for fun. Also need to take my garden photos for July.

Puttering around in the Yard

I always chide myself because I completely fail to take pictures of the thing I spend so much time on in the summer. Then I ask myself stupid questions in the fall like, "Hmm... did those Peonies ever bloom this year or not?" So, for once this year...

The whole set of photos appears here but a random assortment can be found below.

From the front... I'm always amazed at how good my camera is at completely washing out anything that's not green...



There's nothing sadder than an empty hand-made trellis...



I don't think I've ever mentioned how much I hate these Juniper bushes...



The motley collection of random plants along the in-law side of the house...



Isn't this just like watching your uncle's vacation slide show?



Yeah, that honeysuckle in the corner... really needs something a bit bigger than that bench to climb on. What bench you say? Exactly.





I probably haven't mentioned that it's almost Hibiscus time!



This is the corner where I started all this crap. As a note to my future self, "yes, dumbass, the peonies did bloom this year."



Odd-shaped island in the corner of the property. I'm guessing the neighbors are somehow not amused by these considering all my leftover bulbs go in here.

Real Spells. Real Fun. Boss Fix Powder

Here it is, today’s spell from "The Element Encyclopedia of 5000 Spells. The Ultimate Reference Book for the Magical Arts." Why the hell do I have a spell book you might ask? See the previous posts on this topic for the back story.

[My comments in green and with square brackets; the balance of the text is straight from the book.]

** Spell Begins:
Boss Fix Powder

Is going to work a less than satisfying experience? Perhaps it’s not the job that’s the problem; maybe you have a supervisor or boss who persecutes you, picks on you, is never satisfied with your and generally makes going to work the equivalent of going to hell? You don’t want to leave your job; you’d just like your boss to leave you alone.

The Hoodoo solution is Boss Fix Powder.

According to its most extravagant promises, this spell allegedly causes supervisors to consider you with love and favor. At its more realistic, [it makes them fire you for screwing around with their personal property and stealing their cigarettes] it offers a boundary line so that at least you’ll be left alone to perform your job in peace. [until they can hire your replacement]

1. Empty the tobacco from one cigarette. (In order of preference: a cigarette that actually belonged to your boss, his or her favorite brand, any cigarette, [dry grass clippings from your front lawn])

2. Combine it with some shredded newspaper. (In order of preference: your boss’s actual newspaper, a copy of a newspaper he or she favors, any newspaper, [a sheet of paper on which you’ve written the word NEWSPAPER neatly across the top in crayon])

3. Add some chili powder and grind all the ingredients together into a fine powder. [add salt to taste]

4. Make sure the powder is fine: this is intended to be a very discreet spell. Your boss already doesn’t like you! [because you’ve stolen his paper and cigarettes]

5. When the opportunity arises, sprinkle just a tiny bit of powder on or around your boss’s chair. If that’s too much of a risk, drop a little over the threshold of the office, so that he or she will inevitably step over it. [Or even better, offer your boss a pinch of it; refer to it as ‘the finest Chinese beetle snuff’ available]

This is a highly individual spell, tailored toward one target. [unless you went the generic route and just ground up any old newspaper]. If more than one person persecutes you, make fresh Boss Fix for each person.

** Spell Ends

Alternatively, just sit down and talk to your boss and stop getting your employment advice from the Stigeon Witches.

Real Spells. Real Fun. Ochossi’s Employment Spell

Here it is, today’s spell from "The Element Encyclopedia of 5000 Spells. The Ultimate Reference Book for the Magical Arts." Why the hell do I have a spell book you might ask? See the previous posts on this topic for the back story.

[My comments in green and with square brackets, the balance of the text is straight from the book.]

** Spell Begins:
Ochossi’s Employment Spell

Ochossi, the divine hunter, may be petitioned for assistance with locating and bagging employment. [After a long tradition as a mighty hunter, Ochossi has apparently been downgraded to working as an employment counselor. How very disappointed his divine parents must be.] Traditionally an altar is created for him within a forest. An offering laid before a tree in a park is the best alternative. [Because Ochossi often hunts for children in the park, he can stop by and get schnockered up on your offering.] If neither is possible, recreate Ochossi’s home in your own. Arrange woodland images around an altar. Bring Ochossi offerings. [Be sure to leave your front door unlocked as Ochossi is not a locksmith.]

1. Fill a small terracotta bowl with honey.
2. Place seven silver-colored coins around it (they do not have to be real silver).
[Okay, I’ve never heard of anyone who would do ANYTHING worthwhile for 35 cents so you might want to go with real silver here.]
3. Ochossi prefers rum or cachaca. Offer him an entire bottle, [now you’re talkin’!] although it can be a small airline-sized one. [bullshit. Find your own job.] Open it for him. [This may not be his first offering of the night so best to play it safe.] (Some take a mouthful of liquor and without swallowing any, blow it onto the altar.) [Right, just what Ochossi wants, a sticky altar with your backwash in it.]

4. Add some honey-roasted peanuts. [Is this a spell or instructions for opening your own bar?]

5. Speak with the orisha; tell him what you need. [Probably something like: “I swear officer, I’m not drunk, I’m trying to find a job… no, I know I smell like rum but… wait, can I at least get my seven nickels back?”]

** Spell Ends

Alright, this is almost as stupid as the beef tongue spell. I’d suggest as an alternative that you use your seven nickels to have a couple nice résumés printed at the drugstore and perhaps take the bottle of rum to help ‘lubricate’ the job interview. I’m sure that’ll be much more effective and less likely to get you taken off to the drunk tank.

The Time of Darkness

Wow… we’ve been on the ole’ pickle barrel for two weeks now with all my most annoying and hate-inspiring thoughts right there for everyone to see. Luckily though, today, I think, ends a period of ‘darkness’ in my life. Well, let’s just say it had damn well better mark the end of it.

I’ve been walking around this house all week in a huge funk related to … well, stuff. Today, on the hebdomadal break from the ‘stuff’ I was in an especially big funk until somebody brought me out of it and injected new life into my exhausted existence by disagreeing with me. Have I mentioned before the visceral appeal of being disagreed with, particularly by someone who knows what they’re talking about? Anyway, you can read the whole disagreement in the comments to this post I wrote almost 3 years ago: Hard Truths and Obvious Facts I.

My response to his criticism basically boils down to: “Yeah, I know.”

His pointed commentary to my post is exactly the reason people SHOULD talk about difficult topics. My opinion of religion three years ago was a shallow one based on the merest surface knowledge of what religion is and what it’s about. It’s like judging the taste of a loaf of bread based on a one-sentence description of its construction (Grind some grain into dust, add water and fungus spores and bake it.) After talking to people about their religion and reading a few books on the topic I’d say my stand on the topic has changed considerably.

Frankly, I’m jealous of the purpose and camaraderie that religion seems to bring to the lives of many people. I’m sure it must feel great to belong to something bigger and more purposeful than yourself. It is still my considered opinion that this great feeling is a major motivation for the formation of these groups but the fact remains they do a lot of good that would remain undone without them. Not long ago I described religion as “the magnum opus” of mankind in On Religion and so I still believe it to be. If there’s one thing you cannot say about religion, it’s that it’s poorly thought out. We’ve put a lot of effort in making people belong to something.

After three years of exploring this topic, I can no longer say ANYTHING about what’s really true and frankly, neither can anyone else. Personally, I don’t believe in God; the existence of God as defined by Christian theology makes absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. That belief though, as logical as it may seem to me, has absolutely no bearing on real truth. What I perceive as ‘good sense’ is another person’s ‘blatant illogic and ignorance of perceived facts.’ The only real fact seems to be that we HAVE no facts. What we do have is a collection of belief systems founded on personal experience as individual as the people believe them. Could there be a single omnipotent God who controls all we see and do like a puppeteer? I certainly can’t prove otherwise; there could be 50 Gods with names like ‘Pickleface’ and ‘Hammerhead’ for all I, you, or anyone else knows. The real point here is that you should do what you have to in order to be fulfilled and happy in life. If that means going to church and sitting with 3,000 other people and singing songs, then do it. If that means going into the woods and dancing around a fir tree, then do that. Just make sure that while you’re doing that you don’t break any of your own rules. Don’t stone the Wicca when you find them in the forest unless you want them to burn down your church. Don’t go ‘convert the heathens’ in the other parts of the world unless you are ready to accept their proselytizing in your hometown when you get back. Regardless of what you believe, we DO all have to get along.

Pickles from the Bottom of the Barrel

As you may have noticed, I’ve been doing a bit of blogging lately. I’ve blogged about this that and the other thing and when I’m not blogging I’m telling people how much they should blog or at the least write down what’s going on in their lives. I’m a big believer in the amusement that can be derived from looking back on one’s life. If I had a blog or diary stretching back the entire 33 years of my life I’d guard it more closely than anything else I own. There’s a lot I’d like to remember about my life that I can’t because I foolishly failed to write it down.

As motivation, I like to occasionally take a trip back through my previous entries and look for the highlights. It’s been over three years since I started this thing with an idiotic post about a donut but only about a year and a half since I posted with any degree of regularity. In any case, let’s take a look at some of the pickles from the bottom of the barrel…

In which we find out that Grandpa's Dead but Mother's Not

From three years ago it’s the story from the day my grandfather died. I’m REALLY glad I bothered to write this down or I’d never remember it with such clarity.

What makes a good Husband?

My only foray into the deep secrets of marriage.

The Eye that sees itself - 2005

I’m still amused by this even after two years. Yes, it’s my actual answers to the self-evaluation form for my company’s HR yearly review process. More work-related fun was to be had in Missin’ the Christmas Party

Little White Lies with Black Black Hearts

The first post where I really went after… well, almost everyone. Anyone else not already offended probably got it here The One True Gift

Orwell's Echoes

The favorite of my political posts.

Who owns who?

The first post where I started to depart from my materialistic tendencies. I’d long realized the purposelessness of ‘owning’ things but hadn’t quite said it out loud yet. In the same vein The Poverty of Plenty several months later and this blog’s first use of the word ‘cocaine.’ Later I tried to give away thousands of dollars in crap in All that Glitters and then dissed on Christmas in Merry Chri$tma$!

Hard Truths and Obvious Facts I

This is the first post where I really went after religion. Wow. I can imagine why I didn’t make any friends with this one. But in a way maybe I did as the eventual response was very Christ-like. You can read about that in The Gift of the Co-Worker Guy. I finally summed up all the religious rot in On Religion but since that summing wasn’t apparently quite enough summing we hit it again here The Many Faces of God (or not). Later I actually went to church and wrote about it in Goin’ to Church

On Evolution & Abortion

This post marks the last time I can remember being REALLY irritated about something online

The Lost Art of Conversation

April of 2005 was a good year. Here’s the one that caused the VP of my department to take me out to lunch to have a conversation.

A Special Place in Hell

Here’s the one where I stood up for homosexuals.

Schrödinger's Blog

The first blog post about blogging in which I relate quantum mechanics to writing a blog. Later we had the never-popular Survey of the Blogsphere.

You and Your Penis

Yes, sometimes we even read a biology book here on the Tattered Thread. This of course had a few follow-ups in If you must go out, go out with a bang and Machine Gun versus Bazooka.