magic t-shirt folding kit

oh yeah. I have GOT to make me one of these!

Complete with a little music chip that will play that song.

Who knew?

After a lifetime of using Reynolds wrap - and wrestling with the roll that inevitably falls out of the box as you're pulling out a length, I got a very interesting email from my mother, who had also spent a life time wresting with the roll and the box and etc.It turns out that there's a little tab on the ends of the box that you can push in, to prevent just such a happening. Check it out.
Ditto on the plastic wrap. They even have instructions: PRESS TAB TO HOLD ROLL.

Right.
NOT so on the wax paper, but this wax paper box is SO OLD (I never use the stuff) that maybe it was PRE-tab days. . . . And just when were those, pray tell? I had no idea they had these little tab-ey thingees. . . . Like I said: Who knew?

Well, now we do.

It's so embarrassing not to see what's right in front of you. I wonder what else I've been missing?

strange thought-fellows

Lately, my days have been taken with thoughts of design, decor, and money. Time factors in there as well, insofar as having to keep up with the construction process, and trying to balance outlay of money, ordering stuff, and considering replacement of money - i.e., namely by engaging in work-for-pay. What a concept!

It has effectively silenced much of my reflective thought, not to mention creativity. The bulk of my creativeness seems channeled these days into daydreaming about my garden and compulsive knitting. I have quite a stack of new neckwear, a gorgeous turquoise vest, and a growing pi shawl in a lace-weight Malabrigo in "Bobby Blue" [pictured].


I would have called it turquoise.

I've slowly started adding some colour back into my wardrobe. Notably, I see it still largely takes the shape of things that go about my neck or shoulders. For years, traveling as I did, I had restricted myself largely to black - adding only a silk scarf in colour - as the easiest to travel with and as calling the least amount of attention to itself. I wanted a basic well-done "uniform" that always looked nice, but didn't need to be fussed with. Black pants are black pants, after all, and occasion little comment.

Ditto: the black skirt.

The one place where style entered into the equation was in the matter of the jacket. There, you could have the short jacket, the fitted jacket, the boxy blazer, the peplum, double-breasted/single-breasted, the military cut, hacking jacket, or even a long coat. . . . Lots of choices! Not to mention textures.

Now that I'm a bit more settled, I find myself a bit more adventurous, colour-wise. Old habits die hard, though, so I still find myself edging to the black where pants, skirts and jackets are concerned. But in knitting, black is so hard to see! So I've allowed myself the luxury - there - of colour. Currently, it's turquoise. I think that looks nice with black - especially with a bit of silver.

As you see, I'm all flighty these days. Not at all what one would expect of a 'doctor of philosophy'. I expect it's reactionary. I'm feathering my nest and collecting shiny things, like any other self-respecting corvid.

I expect I'll resume my croakings soon enough.

and no, I don't do valentine's day

Amusingly, the refusal to honor valentine's day is probably viewed as more curmudgeonly than just about any other 'public holiday' opt-out.

I had a hard time finding an appropriate anti-valentine's day symbol online! (and didn't want to take the time to make my own).

Not that I don't think that love is a grand thing. It is! I just don't value 'love on demand' or, rather, the production of a physical proof of "love" on demand in the form of flowers, chocolate, cards, stuffed animals and/or jewelry. Oh - and lingerie. . . .

There's something about the combination of the timed spending of money and sexuality that I find a bit distressing. And I certainly don't want anyone to "be mine"!

I've often been told I think too much.

Luckily, the king is of a similar disposition, and so we have a pact not to mention this particular 'holiday'. It is not "holy" for us. . . .

Tuesday already

I don't know where the time goes. I really don't.

I couldn't tell you what I did yesterday. . . . well now, I guess I can, now that I stop to think about it. We started early. The king's chariot is troubled and had to go to the chariot-fixer. A new fixer of chariots, since the chariot dealer has been found wanting. Wanting way too much money and apparently incapable of fixing the problem.

The problem? The mysterious disappearance of coolant liquid.

The solution? According to the new fixer of chariots: a new radiator cap.

So that was the morning. Well, the car drop off and back home, where the king worked out of his home office.

You know what that means.

Upstairs to where I'm trying to get things done every half hour, at least.

What'cha doing?

I was trying to write. . . .

Ah. . . . well, um, when you get a minute. . . .

And so it would go. One rabbit trail involved the search for the ruler I admittedly took from his desk drawer and which then apparently fell down a rabbit hole, never to be seen again. I have looked everywhere for it, to no avail. The king decided to look in my studio for it.

You don't mind, do you?

No. Of course not.

Whereupon all mental work ceased while he stood in the middle of the room and made periodic forays to lift things up and look underneath.

What you should know to properly understand this picture is the utter futility of his hoping to find his ruler in my studio, given the current disarray of that space. There are stacks of books, papers, and Christmas wrapping paraphernalia everywhere. In the near corner you may find kitchen counter samples, supply catalogs and ripped-out pages from magazines of pictures I like of kitchens, baths, brick walls, castles, gardens - you name it!

In the far corner lives the art supplies and sewing boxes (two) and assorted to-go bags I've assembled for various projects in assorted ziplock baggies of varying sizes.

Knitting is [mostly] in the armoir, but a couple of projects have taken up residence in an overstuffed chair (along with the knitting needle case - a very cool orange Veuve Cliquot zipped carryall we got with the champagne we bought to replace the broken bottle of Dom Perignon the king brought along for our first trip to Puerto Rico together, but that's another story. Still, you can see a picture of where we went, here).

As you can see, just walking into this room is a very dangerous thing for a "creative" like me, not to mention an "excursive" like me! I get caught up by things that reach out and grab me, and get lost in knitting, or remembering, or imagining possibilities, or - like I did yesterday - in sorting through, discarding, filing, and organizing. (and trying to picture what our house-under-construction might actually look like. . .)

Then there was the try-to-get-an-actual-number out of two different kitchen suppliers - meaning an actual number for each thing, rather than one very large number for the whole project and then spend months trying to figure out just what it is that costs so much so that I can choose another option. Whenever I volunteer to give up something, though, it's always met with "Well, that's really not all that much."

Today, for example, after months of hearing how expensive the finishing package I had chosen was, I finally got the additional cost for the "distressing" I like. It is negligible. Seeded glass - on the other hand - I discovered is responsible for something like an extra $100 per pane! Clear glass they practically give away. I guess I'll learn to live without the little bubbles. . . .

But that's my job for today. An already it's after 11, and I've talked to my actual best friend who leaves tomorrow for St. Maartens (she usually comes with us to Puerto Rico, but I'm not in Puerto Rico, remember? sigh. . . .

But there's good news. I put in the application for a further research and teaching fellowship and I have been overwhelmed with the letters of recommendation I've gotten. You should see what Magda wrote! Man. I wrote her back to thank her and said that I would hire me, and I know better!

Then there's my buddy who I've known since he went to the Basic School at Quantico. He's a Lt. Colonel now and who (unbeknownst to me) is in the middle of some special operation in the middle East and took the time to do this for me. From the copy of the acknowledgment email I got, that alone spoke volumes to the person in charge of making the selection. . . .

You know what? If I don't even get an interview - I don't care. Not at this point.

it's sunny in Dublin

Don't blink!

Here's proof:


I keep a webcam widget on my Google desktop so that I can track the weather changes. I find it particularly unfair when it's sunny there, but overcast here. As it is today.

But I'll tell you what, there's nothing that will make you appreciate the sun more than living in Ireland! You don't take it for granted. I could go check the webcam in another 5 or 10 minutes and find it gray and pouring rain. Here, when the sun is out, you can usually count on it staying out for a good several hours. Not so, in Ireland!

This accounts for much of their approach to life, I think, which can be summed up twofold: (1) Expect rain, but (2) enjoy the sun now, while you can! It also accounts for the incredible diversity - and interesting - conversation about the weather, a favorite topic over there. You just can't help it.

m.i.a.

Thursday was a concert over an hour's drive away.

Friday, the king's cold started catching up with me. I spent the day holed up on on the bed with books and my computer. Back to dissertation reading. The good news: I already have one of the 'new' books that Magda has recommended that I read.

Fun get-together Saturday with some of the people who were with us in Florida for the wedding - for which I paid today. . . .

Early to bed tonight, I think, and a fresh start tomorrow!

"America's Most Smartest Model"

Who thinks of this stuff?!

"Most Smartest", eh?

Right.

serendipity

. . . . or is it 'synchronicity'?

Ah - I haven't thought of that song in ages. Nor have I posted any music in a while!

OK - let's go see what I can find on YouTube.

Here 'tis! Police's Synchronicity (looking pretty dated these days. . . .)



But no. . . . actually the word I was looking for IS 'serendipity': the occurrence and development of events by chance, in a happy and beneficial way,

whereas 'synchronicity' is: the simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related, but have no discernible causal connection.

Well now. . . . but there are elements of synchronicity as well: significantly related, but no clear causal connection. . . .

What am I talking about? How just the right things - people, thoughts, information, opportunities - seem to come out of nowhere at just the right time.

Or maybe it's just my corvid-tendency to pick up bright shiny things and take them home, where they all then live together in a way that makes a (to me) surprisingly coherent pattern. And maybe it's just the superficial shininess that has dazzled my eyes and deceived me into thinking there's a greater unity underlying the whole?

Today, one Grim posted an article about military post-traumatic stress, here, at a site called Black-Five.

It opened my eyes to a whole new field of connection that is not only "happy and beneficial", but also significantly related, albeit with no clear causal connection.

A story about a supposed "non-practicing" pedophile in California some months ago led me to an article about the impotence of law, which introduced me to a whole new world of incredibly thoughtful, intelligent, encouraging and plain old fun people associated (often by marriage) with the military. I won't bore you with the complicated connections, but I'll tell you that they're quite astonishing. I've been so enriched by their thoughts!

Just today, I learned that Adorable Device is reading a book about Alice Williams - sister to William James - for her dissertation in English lit.

William James had a sister?! William James' thought appears in my dissertation, on law, ethics, and theology - for the proposition of religious experience as the connector between an individual and values/convictions. I'm ordering the book on the sister.

And it's indirectly through Lemon Stand that I found my way (by way of a path I no longer recall. . . .) to Grim's posting on post-traumatic stress. I think this might be really important with respect to the connection between the soldier and an ethics that makes sense - namely one that is more than just a series of rules written by know-nots in the no-danger-zone.

Grim has also posted on a surfer dude's amazing physics theory of just about everything which, like the last theories to catch my attention: John Nash's equilibrium in game theory and "fuzzy logic" - by whoever is responsible for that - strikes me as "related" to how we view the world, our role in it, and what we can, should, or will do.

Here's a picture of E8 - which forms the basis for surfer dude's theory - "the most elegant and intricate shape known to mathematics - a complex, eight-dimensional mathematical pattern with 248 points first found in 1887, but only fully understood by mathematicians this year after workings, that, if written out in tiny print, would cover an area the size of Manhattan."

Wierd, huh?

It reminds me of the yoke of a fair isle knitted sweater. . . .

Who'da thunk it! The Meaning of Life preserved in a traditional knit pattern. . . . I'm not at all surprised.

Meanwhile, Non-essential Equipment reports that some parents are boycotting Shrek 3 because it is supposedly pro-life - if you can imagine. Mustn't have that around the children!

Not to worry, though. Nee reports that she's seen the movie often enough* to repeat the "dialogue" verbatim, together with the various sounds of scatological bodily functions, and she has seen no hint of an overt "pro-life" agenda hidden therein. So there you have it: There is no cause for alarm!

*I believe the actual number of viewing times was, at the time of publication, 3654. Give or take a few. . . .

"seven, eight - lay 'em straight. . . ."

Thought for the day:

Fall down seven times, get up eight.

Dōgen

minus 9 - single digits (yikes!)

Well this picture will wake you up in the mornin', eh?

I feel good today.

Pretty good, anyway. Good before I think about it. . . . Here's hoping that thinking about it doesn't change the feeling good! grin.

OK. It's a gorgeous day: so that's good. And it's on the cooler side: check, good. (at least as far as I'm concerned and - as I've had occasion to say several times this last month, anyway, right now it is "all about me - all the time", and when you're writing your dissertation and you're in the last weeks of turmoil, then it can be all about you! Deal? Deal. . . .)

But back to the "good" checklist:

Citations done through Chapter 4 - check, and good. This also enabled me to spend some time with the king, as the work was conducive to couch sitting and football monitoring at the same time. Very fun!

I like football. American football. With the funny-shaped ball. It's splendid background to wonderful foods, and friendly banter and comaraderie and working on a quilt or knitting something. . . . and it's chilly out and maybe we could start a fire in the fireplace. Love those days! So I was glad to get a little football in this week.

And I also got a bit home-made soup in: threw some together as comfort food for myself, as it looked ike the king was going to have to do a bit of the social-scene-mandatories on his own yesterday: kind of a command performance, but he decided to bail and stay at home with me. There are so many people who think we're slugs these days! Oh well. . . . . So we dined on our favorite artisanal baguettes, chipotle cheddar cheese, and a hearty steak, potato, mushroom, and assorted veggie stew, I guess I should call it. And that's what was missing! Garlic. I can't believe I forgot the garlic! Ach. . . . Well, it was still delicious. (and I knew I liked Nee when I read her comfort food recipe, here, which features - features? nay! stars - garlic! How could I forget the garlic?! sigh. . . .)

Some other 'good' stuff: A4 paper arrived from Ireland, I have been able to format my docs for the said paper, and the king has determined that the printer not only will admit to taking A4, but will cheerfully improve its printing quality to more than what's required for submission. So this first round I can print myself, looks like, rather than worry about internet file transmissions, trying to get everything onto/into one doc file for the printer in Ireland, and then actually trusting them to print and bind, sight unseen.

So I think this is very good.

Well, it's just after 10 and really time to be moving on the work at hand. Life has changed a bit the last week. I'm finding that it's easiest to work late at night. I don't worry about where the king is or when he's coming home, as he's upstairs in bed. So I don't keep looking out the window whenever I hear a car (and yeah-yeah, not too many cars late at night, either).

I've been trying to get at least 5 or 6 hours sleep (and you're talking to the sleep queen, here, so you need to read that with new eyes, to see the UTTER DEPRIVATION that ONLY 5 or 6 hours of sleep means to me!), and the king has not been waking me for our usual time in the mornings even when I ask him to. I feel a little bad about that. But we do get our time in the evenings over dinner and a glass of wine, so I imagine this might have to do for the next 9 days.

Because the fact of the matter is that I don't get that much done when he's home and rambling about. Or rather I should say that it's easier when he's not rambling about, but instead all tucked into bed. . . .

But this is much better than being off on my own, which actually is an option for me: lucky me! My parents have a little townhouse about a half mile from the beach which - now that it's cooled off - they won't go to quite as much. I had been trying to hole up there this summer, but what with weekend comings and goings, and my back-and-forthing's, it really got to be more of a hassle than a help. And these last few days have shown me how much I've come to depend on my husband, if only to run up to him for a hug and nuzzle.

This is new, you need to understand. I've only been married a little over 2 years and I was single for a good long time. . . . Really used to being on my own. I was actually worried that this 'togetherness' thing would wear on me!

Anyway: I just know how much harder this would have been all alone. I really don't know that I could have done it. The king, of course, just keeps saying: "Of course you would have. You're the queen!" in that very confident way he has.

All I can say is that I'm happy I didn't have to test this. It's been hard enough as it is.

So! I'm expecting an email from Magda at some point, re: the last chapter. Yes, that was bit of adrenaline fear I experienced, just saying it. At some point I think I still expect her to say that I might have a better future in parking enforcement. . . . (yes, I think I've mentioned that before. sorry. but it's true.)

And at some point I really must write the introduction and the conclusion. Talk about doing things backwards! Everyone says you write the conclusion first, then you write the papers, then you write the intro.

Not me. I wrote the paper. Now I'm trying to figure out what it says - and means, big-picture-wise - so I can set up an intro leading to the conclusion. Foolishness? Or faith? I guess the jury's out.

Don't tell anyone.

minus 12

and counting. . . .

I begin to fixate on the physical impossibility of the task at hand. Hundreds of citations to review and put into Chicago style. Bibliography to prepare. REWRITES of chapters 1 through 4, and Magda says she'll have chapter 5 comments hopefully early next week. And today?

Well, I really SHOULD get a handle on the final vision of what this thing is about! And write the top and the tail. . . . so that I know what other guts need to go in, in between, as I turn then to do the re-writes.

Actual conversation this morning:

king:

"Were you serious when you said you didn't know what the point of your dissertation is?"

yours truly:

"Well, uh. . . . ah. . . Hmmm. Yeah. I think I was."

For the life of me, I couldn't think what the point was. I had all sorts of interim "knowledge" and clever comments and insights and critiques, but the point? Ah. . . right. The point. . . . There was a point to this. At some point. Once upon a time.

I just couldn't think of it anymore.

The king hopped in the shower and I snuggled under the covers for another 10 minute snooze. The weather has finally broken, and the 90 degree record-setting heat/drought finally gave way to a thunderous display of really fierce rain clouds annoyed to have been kept waiting so long. They dropped their several inches of rain overnight and have departed leaving the sky forever-blue and the temperature 30 degrees colder. I'm liking it!

When the king got out of the shower, he toweled off and told me the point of my dissertation. Bless his heart. He's been listening. And he remembered. And he was able to remind me.

Right! There is a point. And it is . . . . ah. . . . well, I'm just about to go off and write it. I'll let you know how it turns out. Otherwise, I may have to take dictation from the king. He seems to have a better handle on this just now.

fourteen recap

OK. Found a photo.

Update: books returned. check. Plus the nice libarary lady let me check out the one on Judge Posner again, even though I had reached my renewal limit.

Gown shopping: check. Found gown. Purchased, along with 2 other dresses on sale for $39 each - if you can imagine!? I couldn't. . . . The king likes it. I'm trying to figure out what kind of undergear is appropriate insofar as the back is kind of bare and I don't want panty lines but. . . man! I'm not sure how to handle this. This dress doesn't seem to be compatible with underwear-wear.

College library run to get page numbers on Ricoeur article: check. Plus found two more articles & copied them.

"One more fun thing" - nada. Didn't stop for Wintergreen Altoids. My teeth won't take much more. But now I'm yawnin' and I thought I was going to finish the 'hope and meaning' section tonight. Right. Maybe if I'd gotten Wintergreens, which perk me up - but no. . . . Tonight I got treated to a treatment of how Kant differs from Hegel and how - in order properly to appreciate the "philosophy of hope" one must proceed in order from Kant's first critique (of pure reason), to his second critique (practical reason), before coming to his "Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone", because otherwise "we shold have been tempted to oppose to the Hegelian concept of absolute knowledge an empty concpet of belief or of hope." ["Hope & the Structure of Philosophical Systems" 215].

Yep. He really talks like that.

The scarey thing? I actually think I understand him now. Ricoeur likes Kant because Kant acknowledges that there are limits. Limits to what we can know about where we've come from (creation) and limits about where we're heading (eschatology - now there's a word for you! Means 'study of final things' - best as I can make it out.) Hegel has a concept that we can actually know everything - which he puts in a category he calls "absolute knowledge".

Anyway - I won't bore you with how we know what we know - but it was kind of cool to read Ricoeur talking about what he thought about Hegel and Kant. And the broad brush stroke is that Ricoeur buys Kant's 'philosophy of limits' - that we can't know everything - and so he doesn't want to get pulled into the Hegelian game that says we can, by trying to set up an empty hope chest to try and carry the weight.

And I like what he says about hope:

Hope is not a theme that comes after other themes, an idea that closes the system, but an impulse that opens the system, that breaks the closure of the system; it is a way of reopening what was unduly closed.

This comes in after we have reached our limit, and breaks a way free to see new possibilities. In religious symbolism, this is where resurrection comes in; and salvation.

Oh yeah! I can just see me advancing that as a legal argument in our local circuit court. . . .

sigh

OK. It's midnight. A coupla hours sleep and write up all this I've ingested today. . . . please God to have made sense of it for me while I sleep! (why does this have to be so complicated?!

[ok. . . . and I SAW that typo. . . . but now I can't find it. And my eyes are closing. And if you have any sympathy for me at all, you'll tell me where it is. Ah - sure - I'll find it tomorrow.] [subsequent note: nope. . . . I'm letting ALL the typos stand, just to remember how out of it I was!]

chapter 5 due

OK - enough with the distractions. Bikinis and whatever you could call the get-up from yesterday. . . .

What I finally thought was: "This is what these people chose to put on, knowing they would be photographed." It's not like someone snuck into their backyard and caught them watering their flowers before they changed out of their loungewear.

I think that is what is amazing to me.

What else is amazing to me are the lengths to which I will go to avoid finishing this dissertation. As I mentioned in this is dangerous, I have a horrible tendency to need the pressure cooker of time constraints to squeeze required words out. Never has this been more the case than this week. I have dillied. I have dallied. I have squandered words on Britney, Courtney, and you just barely missed Paris.

OK - I can't resist - here's the description of Paris' latest fragrance, Heiress:

Paris Hilton Heiress is a fruity floral — no surprise there — and the notes include passion fruit, orange, peach granita, champagne mimosa, star jasmine, tiare flower, ylang ylang, honeysuckle, dewberry blossom, grenadine, violet leaf, vetiver, tonka bean and blonde woods.

Amazing.

What - the quote? The fragrance?

No. . . . my ability not to get down to writing. (although the descriptive list of that 'parfum' concoction is rather astonishing. blonde woods?! tonka beans. . . .)

Well, since most of my writers seem silent these last few days, I think I might try and take some time off too, and knock out chapter 5. It's due Monday.

Ha!

later. . . .

. . . and can somebody tell me

what logical connection there might be between "Patchouli" and the songs "Incense Peppermint" and "Crimson & Clover"?

Cause they're linked indelibly in my mind.

There are other songs I know that feature growing things that don't come to mind. . . . and clover isn't aromatic, altho I guess incense & peppermint are.

Maybe it's just a 60's/70's thing.

travel tricks

A couple of weeks ago I stayed overnight at the Ritz Carlton: legitimate business meeting, corporate rates (I'm sure), thankfully paid for by said corporation - not me. But I'm the one who got to enjoy the upgrade to executive suite, thank you very much, with TWO bathrooms!

Nice. (even though I felt vaguely uncomfortable with the sheer excess of having two - which I solved by shutting the door to one and mostly ignoring it)

This brought on a moral dilemma, however. It's one thing to clear out all the nice smelling toiletries to take home with you when you're talking just one bath. After all, they were put there for me to use, and I might have used them all up, if I hadn't wanted to take them home because I like the little bottles. But this is two baths - one person - one night. No way I could legitimately use up all the toiletries. . . . Is it legit to take them, anyway?

Right. I took 'em.

I'm glad I did, too, because once I got them home I really got to liking the smell (Bvlgari - Au The Blanc - and that would be 'The' as in 'tea' and not as in 'the' - so 'tea, white' and not 'the white'. . . . Ah, the French. Took me a while, too, so don't feel bad. Oh, and I still can't figure the 'v' instead of the 'u' - or at least I assume you pronounce 'Bvlgari' as 'Bulgari'? but what do I know) ANYway - once I got home and started liking the smell, I discovered that it's available really only at Nordstrom's, and the 'guest collection' (which is essentially what the hotel put out in each bath - minus the "oshibori", and what the hell is that, anyway!?) is $85.00!

Eighty-five bucks! Man.

I also found out later that the corporate room rate was only something like $120.00. I figure I'm ahead of the game. WAY ahead.

And yes, there is a tidy little resale market of 'travel sized' Bvlgari products on Ebay. . . . But you won't see any of mine there. You see, I REALLY like the smell. I'm thinking of going back to the Ritz for more. It's cheaper than going to Nordstrom's.