Just call me Ms. Science

Just spent an hour and a half identifying a weed while watching Voyage of the Mimi on youtube. There are several of these plants in my porch box and I wanted to know what they are, so I picked one (carefully, having discovered the other day that they have spines). I jumped on google and hunted up a weed identification site. After taking my best guess at some of the options, and viewing the pictures, it seemed to be a pigweed variety. A bit more image searching and spiny amaranth seems to be the most likely. I have no idea how it got in the box, and I hunted around the yard for a plant that looked just the same, to no avail, but that's what it is.
This genius moment came at the same time that the Mimi's crew, shipwrecked, set up a plastic sheet as a still to turn sea water to drinking water.

AMERICA, RIGHT?

I haven't made much of a fuss about July 4 since I've been in BG, and only rarely have I spent time with people for the holiday. Last year I did go to the fireworks, sitting on the lawn of the rec center and peaceably appreciating both solitude and being part of a crowd. This year looked to be much of the same, but then Carrie texted me and I ended up donning some red, white, and blue and heading over to a gathering complete with friends, sangria, grilling, firepit, and a mad dash up the street to see what fireworks we could over the trees. And pink marshmallows.
Standing with Steve and Melissa on the sidewalk of Main Street, jumping up and down like crazy people, and cheering for the really big ones, as traffic went behind us, I felt completely at peace. It's nice to have friends.
God bless America.

And now, a conversation with my niece.

(Phone rings, caller ID says Mom)
"Hi, Mom."
(brief pause)"HI!"
say, "Hi Aunt Abby!"
"HI Abby!"
"Hi, Ruth! How are you? Are you having a good day? I love you!"
"HI!"
say, "I love you, Aunt Abby!"
(murmuring)
Hey, Diddle Diddle, the--
"CAT"
and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the--
"MOON"
the little dog laughed, to see such sport, and the dish ran away with the--
"'POON!"
Little Jack Horner sat in a corner, eating his Christmas--
"PIE!"
He put in his--
"THUMB"
and pulled out a plum, and said, What a good boy am I!
Ruth, P-I-E spells...
"PIE!"

That's right, my two-year-old niece can spell Pie. Genius.

Do not read if you are squeamish or uninterested in "lady problems"

You've been warned. I can easily be accused of TMI here, but I'm furious and want to stand up for women for a minute.

Several years ago, I got a lump in a "lady area" that was diagnosed as a Bartholin's cyst. The problem was taken care of in the ER, since I did not at that time have a physician or insurance (this was two weeks before I started my job). A few years later, I got another one in a slightly different area, and then several more, one at a time. My CNP confirmed the issue as cysts, but not necessarily a Bartholin's cyst. She said there are other glands in there and they can get cysts or abscesses. She indicated that it wasn't a big deal, especially since my cysts were always small. Every summer, though, the problem recurs, and I have been attempting to learn more about it, not just to get rid of them when I get them, but to prevent them if possible and understand how they occur.

It is true that if one performs a search for "Bartholin's cyst" one gets lots of results, some of them from reputable medical sources. But as I mentioned, not every cyst is a Bartholin's cyst, and so I tried to expand my search. Instead of getting real information, one gets pages and pages of questions from other women who have this problem, and few answers. The Bartholin's cyst pages claim that lots of women get cysts. So why is everyone so confused, and why is there no helpful information on this problem?

I turned my attention to books, and started with the Wood County Library. As I looked through the stacks of medical books, I found lots of books on pregnancy, several on men's genital health, two on boobs, and ONE BOOK on general female health and emotional wellness, which had nothing on cysts. WTF? I thought to myself, profanely. Here I am, a woman with a delicate question, and no resource ready to hand to help me with this "common" problem that no one seems to know or care about. But I can tell you (and I really should have said this to my CNP) that if you were to take, say, a dried pea, and shove it under the skin of your labia, you'd not only know about it, you'd think it was a very big deal and want to get rid of it and prevent it from coming back.

A helpful suggestion was given to me to check out the Science Library here on campus, or the science books wherever they end up when the Ogg closes, which I will surely do. It just infuriates me that I lived twenty-five years of my life without knowing this problem was possible, that I had to be scared of whatever it was when it first occurred, and that now, when I'm seeking information, it is beyond difficult to find. To me, that's completely unacceptable.

End of rant.

I came across some truly amazing pictures today from Zena Holloway, who takes underwater pictures. These pics were posted on a bridal blog, and you should go look at them. They are pretty and frilly and ethereal.

Backstory--Guilty Secret:
One of my favorite activities, when I want to completely waste time without noticing how much, is looking at bridal gowns online. I'm not getting married any time soon, and to be frank, I'm beginning to doubt that I ever will have that privilege. That's a whole other topic. But as a person who loves fabric and dresses, who considers a purchase of dupioni silk on sale a major coup, and who often buys satin and brocade just because, I love bridal gowns. I want to try them on.
If I were a mite taller, say two or three inches, I would maybe have tried to be a model just so I could be a bridal model.

Yay! Updates

I officially have a nephew. That's right, I now have a matched set, a niece and a nephew. Ruth and Nichol. Ruth can already say Nichol, and mididentifies herself as him in her baby pictures because they resemble each other quite a lot in this infant stage. I talked to Ruth on the phone last night and she seems pretty cheerful about it all. I'm told that thus far Nichol is a calm baby who is eating well and letting himself be held. I'm very excited to meet him.
I am also in a quilting tizzy because Nichol is two weeks early. I wanted to have the new quilt done and cleaned to bring when I meet the baby, but I don't know if that's happening. I am actually planning on leaving the office early so I can go home and work on it. I'm doing a tricky part of it just now, but it's coming out well.
I've been eating Little Caesars this week to celebrate the fun times. Yesterday, though, I made a vat of potato salad for a few lunches. Just like I did when Harry Potter books came out in the summers. All I need is some cherries, fried chicken, and Hawaiian rolls and it's just the same!

And now a message from Hallmark

I learned a valuable lesson today.
I was looking for a Father's Day card I could love. Amidst the cards was a Family Guy one with Peter Griffin on the front and a weak joke about doodie (ie "ha ha. I said doodie."). I didn't read the rest. Instead I thought, "Who would buy that for their dad? Whose dad would really find that funny? Or heart-warming? Whose dad would feel special after reading that card?"
Not ten seconds later, a woman came along with two daughters. She immediately saw the FG card, snorted, picked it up, and said, "This is funny. Your dad would love this." She gave it to her daughters to read; they giggled, and then handed it back to her. She asked if they wanted to get that one and, to their credit, they said No. She repeated that "Your dad likes Family Guy. He'd really like it," and they actually whined no, and continued rifling through the cards.
So I guess that's my answer.

Masters

Most of the reality shows I bring myself to watch are procedural--shows that are based on a skill and that (hopefully) have minimal drama. That's why I was a little excited about Top Chef Masters. While top chefs can certainly be melodramatic, I had hopes that at least they wouldn't be immature and disrespectful of each other.
Last night's premier was perfect. It had Hubert Keller in it, first of all. The chefs were also given very similar challenges to those of regular TC seasons, including the dessert quick fire. And the four chefs were all nice to each other, pitted only against their own skills and egos. Perfect. It's possible the show will not have enough backstabbing and melodrama for some people, but it was just right for me and I felt like I learned a lot. I am skeptical of Bravo these days, but they did right by me with this episode.