Lots of writing this week and last. The fish story, still incomplete but getting there, and now I've had to cudgel Festival Madness into a even better shape. Nothing like real feedback to help a writer. A nice agent gave me some feedback which actually agreed with something an editor said, so I'm making the umpteenth pass through the novel, cutting out more words and attempting to give one of the characters a bit more gravitas, as it were.
Next month I have to write a speech, and whatever happened to the long cold wintry days when there wasn't much to do?
We applied to work on the 2010 Census and took the test today. The sample questions were easy but not all the test questions were slam dunks by any means. I tried to remember the last time I took a test and couldn't. Even the classes I've taken, both writing and technical have not had actual tests. I believe test-taking is a skill like many others, a skill that can become rusty from disuse. We did just fine on the test. Now comes the background check and that sort of thing.
On Tuesday, I was glued to the TV all day and all night. Yowsa! What a great historic event. Saved all the newspapers. By now I have a huge Obama collection and a gazillion emails, too.
All by way of excuse for not doing much blogging. Busy. Busy. How doth the busy little bee?
Some house finches and exotic looking sparrows at the feeder today. Feeding birds, cows, cats, it never ends.
The herd of eight cows is suddenly down to four. Mary Ann's baby was shipped off and now Mary Ann is gone, too. The only "regulars" are Iris and Maggie. So sad. The problem is, I bond with the cows. A little weird to be sure, but true.
Back to my novel.
Grapeshot
Showing posts with label Barack Obama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barack Obama. Show all posts
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Make Mine Mascara
If you read the newspapers with due diligence, (you do read newspapers, don't you?) you noticed the ads last week announcing a big class action settlement of a suit against some high-end cosmetics companies. Apparently they had been found guilty of price-fixing or some other dastardly deed.
The upshot was, that unless you excused yourself from the lawsuit, yeah, sure, you were entitled to a free cosmetic, "while supplies last." Kids, this was Lancome and Clarins and Estee Lauder, brands that I've spent hundred and hundred of dollars on in the past years.
So today, armed with the newsclipping and a list of products from the Web, I hied myself out to Macy's to be there when the door's opened. If isn't everyday someone hands you $25.00. When we pulled into the parking lot at 9:45, there were already a few cars waiting, all with women, nicely put together women from the look of them, cosmetics users all.
At 9:58 I went through the door, providentially at the cosmetics department, and was directed to the store entrance where the goodies were handed out. Sign your name, say what you want and voila! I got a cool Clarins morning moisturizing cream. Two minutes later we were back in the car. There wasn't a screaming jostling mob as I had feared, but maybe no one reads the paper anymore. It was like a little discount for trying to stay lovely.
We hustled home to get settled for the inaugural activities. How inspiring. It's like a dream come true.
Grapeshot
The upshot was, that unless you excused yourself from the lawsuit, yeah, sure, you were entitled to a free cosmetic, "while supplies last." Kids, this was Lancome and Clarins and Estee Lauder, brands that I've spent hundred and hundred of dollars on in the past years.
So today, armed with the newsclipping and a list of products from the Web, I hied myself out to Macy's to be there when the door's opened. If isn't everyday someone hands you $25.00. When we pulled into the parking lot at 9:45, there were already a few cars waiting, all with women, nicely put together women from the look of them, cosmetics users all.
At 9:58 I went through the door, providentially at the cosmetics department, and was directed to the store entrance where the goodies were handed out. Sign your name, say what you want and voila! I got a cool Clarins morning moisturizing cream. Two minutes later we were back in the car. There wasn't a screaming jostling mob as I had feared, but maybe no one reads the paper anymore. It was like a little discount for trying to stay lovely.
We hustled home to get settled for the inaugural activities. How inspiring. It's like a dream come true.
Grapeshot
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Let's Hear It For All Us Mutts
Obama is in hot water already for a couple off-the-cuff remarks, the first about seances, a reference to Nancy Reagan and the White House astrology business, and the second for referring to himself as a 'Mutt.'
Ye gods, by now anyone whose family has been here for a few generations is a mutt. I claim the British Isles, France, Germany and Austria and two American Indian tribes as ancestors. My sons can add the (always) disputed border of Eastern Germany and Poland to the heritage, adding a bit of Slav. My granddaughter gets all that and I do believe that some extra Cherokee entered the mix.
And isn't it a good thing to be a mutt? No inbreeding, for one thing. Jeez, you wouldn't want that godawful Hapsburg jaw or non-clotting blood would you? All those bad genes combining with all those bad genes. Gimme new blood. Make it red.
Aren't those shelter dogs the best of the best? My great grandfather was half-Indian, a so-called half-breed that the family kept quiet about. It was shameful then. Now we celebrate our mixed heritage. After all, it's a melting pot.
Put a tablespoon of butter and one of olive oil into the skillet and they will run together? Butter for flavor and olive oil for higher heat tolerance. The yin and the yang. Combining the best of most products.
If you're a mutt, be proud. Celebrate your variety. Red blood is better than blue any day.
Grapeshot
Ye gods, by now anyone whose family has been here for a few generations is a mutt. I claim the British Isles, France, Germany and Austria and two American Indian tribes as ancestors. My sons can add the (always) disputed border of Eastern Germany and Poland to the heritage, adding a bit of Slav. My granddaughter gets all that and I do believe that some extra Cherokee entered the mix.
And isn't it a good thing to be a mutt? No inbreeding, for one thing. Jeez, you wouldn't want that godawful Hapsburg jaw or non-clotting blood would you? All those bad genes combining with all those bad genes. Gimme new blood. Make it red.
Aren't those shelter dogs the best of the best? My great grandfather was half-Indian, a so-called half-breed that the family kept quiet about. It was shameful then. Now we celebrate our mixed heritage. After all, it's a melting pot.
Put a tablespoon of butter and one of olive oil into the skillet and they will run together? Butter for flavor and olive oil for higher heat tolerance. The yin and the yang. Combining the best of most products.
If you're a mutt, be proud. Celebrate your variety. Red blood is better than blue any day.
Grapeshot
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
An Historic Moment
Photo from BBC News.Yesterday, I had ants in my pants. The day had finally arrived, and we voted early, but not often, and then I had to hang out until my class met at 7:00. Hard to concentrate on anything.
Significant Other picked me up a little before 9:00 with the news that New Hampshire had gone for Obama. Yes. The time, the work, the sore feet, windburn, being the butt of condescension (sometimes) and the effort had paid. Yes.
Then Ohio was safe, and finally even Pennsylvania, and the clock ticked on. For a while, nothing more, then New Mexico and finally, California, and victory. It was sweet. We broke out the cognac, effete Eastern elitsts that we are.
McCain's speech was very gracious, and again we saw the old McCain who had been usurped by the mad old man and now the real McCain was back again, offering cooperation and congratulations. A class act.
Obama did not gloat, and seemed very inclusive, very, well, presidential. The "yes we can!" being the only rejoicing. Seeing Jesse Jackson with tears in his eyes, well, who would have thunk it? A long time coming, and everyone thinking of Dr. King's dream, and some of us old farts remembering another night in Chicago, in 1968 where things were very different and the Mayor was Daley then, too, and that was another war and the "whole world was watching" then, as last night and isn't it almost too unbelievable for words that last night when the world watched, all of us could be proud.
So I will not gloat but am working on another poem about you-know-who, and then I'll shut up about politics.
Last night in class, listening to people read, I realized that I employ mostly simple words, now, and big academic words have left my vocabulary because you can't write crime fiction using words like that and now I don't use them at all. Sort of sad, and yet interesting. Intriguing. Thought-provoking. Where did the big words go?
Onward. How sweet it is.
Grapeshot
Significant Other picked me up a little before 9:00 with the news that New Hampshire had gone for Obama. Yes. The time, the work, the sore feet, windburn, being the butt of condescension (sometimes) and the effort had paid. Yes.
Then Ohio was safe, and finally even Pennsylvania, and the clock ticked on. For a while, nothing more, then New Mexico and finally, California, and victory. It was sweet. We broke out the cognac, effete Eastern elitsts that we are.
McCain's speech was very gracious, and again we saw the old McCain who had been usurped by the mad old man and now the real McCain was back again, offering cooperation and congratulations. A class act.
Obama did not gloat, and seemed very inclusive, very, well, presidential. The "yes we can!" being the only rejoicing. Seeing Jesse Jackson with tears in his eyes, well, who would have thunk it? A long time coming, and everyone thinking of Dr. King's dream, and some of us old farts remembering another night in Chicago, in 1968 where things were very different and the Mayor was Daley then, too, and that was another war and the "whole world was watching" then, as last night and isn't it almost too unbelievable for words that last night when the world watched, all of us could be proud.
So I will not gloat but am working on another poem about you-know-who, and then I'll shut up about politics.
Last night in class, listening to people read, I realized that I employ mostly simple words, now, and big academic words have left my vocabulary because you can't write crime fiction using words like that and now I don't use them at all. Sort of sad, and yet interesting. Intriguing. Thought-provoking. Where did the big words go?
Onward. How sweet it is.
Grapeshot
Monday, November 03, 2008
Why I Am For Obama
Once upon a time I was a Republican. My mom was a committeewoman for the party in Denver and my dad was only slightly to the left of John Birch. I shook hands with the Nixons. We went to Republican picnics. I voted for Nixon. When I began wavering in the more liberal direction, I registered as an Independent and voted for John Anderson. Does anyone remember John Anderson?
After that I voted mostly for Democrats, while still registered as an Independent. Of course, I voted for Governor Weld in Massachusetts, but the so-called Wellesley Republicans are a dying breed, usurped by the Southern right wing bloc of the party. . The older I get, the more liberal I become. It’s supposed to work the other way. I like to think with age comes wisdom.
On the cover of the New York Times (elitist Eastern rag) this morning, two photos ran side by side. One was of two old farts in Florida, McCain supporters, and they were fat and well, they didn't look like intellectual giants. Next to them were two young Obama supporters. They are the future, and we are looking at the future now, and I'm a not very young white woman and I like the look of the future. Obama is the future.
Obama is a good person. You can see his goodness shining through. He doesn’t have McCain’s naked ambition, win at any cost, damn the torpedoes, damn the ethics, full speed ahead. Power will not corrupt Obama. Obama is tough, but in a good way.
He’s smart. He’s thoughtful. He’s steady. He believes in getting good advice. He’ll even put some honest Republicans in responsible positions. He won’t be afraid to say ‘no,’ and he won’t be the kind of person to whom people are afraid to deliver bad news.
He’s respected globally. Think what that means to this country. This campaign has tested him, and he has not been found wanting. He grows before our eyes, commanding respect and even love.
It’s time. Time for a change, time for Obama. People who think, those who can reason, understand this. It’s the most important election in our lifetime. Obama won’t be perfect, but he’ll do all right. Experience isn’t everything. Look at the mess those with “experience” got us into. That kind of “experience” we can eschew.
Obama is the future. Look into the future. Cast your vote. Change is always scary, but change is good.
Vote for Obama! Vote for the future.
After that I voted mostly for Democrats, while still registered as an Independent. Of course, I voted for Governor Weld in Massachusetts, but the so-called Wellesley Republicans are a dying breed, usurped by the Southern right wing bloc of the party. . The older I get, the more liberal I become. It’s supposed to work the other way. I like to think with age comes wisdom.
On the cover of the New York Times (elitist Eastern rag) this morning, two photos ran side by side. One was of two old farts in Florida, McCain supporters, and they were fat and well, they didn't look like intellectual giants. Next to them were two young Obama supporters. They are the future, and we are looking at the future now, and I'm a not very young white woman and I like the look of the future. Obama is the future.
Obama is a good person. You can see his goodness shining through. He doesn’t have McCain’s naked ambition, win at any cost, damn the torpedoes, damn the ethics, full speed ahead. Power will not corrupt Obama. Obama is tough, but in a good way.
He’s smart. He’s thoughtful. He’s steady. He believes in getting good advice. He’ll even put some honest Republicans in responsible positions. He won’t be afraid to say ‘no,’ and he won’t be the kind of person to whom people are afraid to deliver bad news.
He’s respected globally. Think what that means to this country. This campaign has tested him, and he has not been found wanting. He grows before our eyes, commanding respect and even love.
It’s time. Time for a change, time for Obama. People who think, those who can reason, understand this. It’s the most important election in our lifetime. Obama won’t be perfect, but he’ll do all right. Experience isn’t everything. Look at the mess those with “experience” got us into. That kind of “experience” we can eschew.
Obama is the future. Look into the future. Cast your vote. Change is always scary, but change is good.
Vote for Obama! Vote for the future.
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