Been busy.

This week, I attended Harry Potter 6 and a grant workshop, and finished two projects.
1. HP 6 is awesome. My friend Carrie has already done a quick review, and I agree with her on all points. 6 is my favorite book anyway, because I like the character development and the balance of the book, and even though things had to be cut (and they also added a scene), the balance matched really well for a blend of funny and frightful. I shed a fat tear at the end, and when the credits began to roll everybody let out a collected sigh of "it's over?" After a two and a half hour movie, I think that speaks really well of the quality. And, seeing it with my peeps Carrie and Paul was awesome, too. I want to see it again.

2. This funding request workshop was intense; two days, 9-4, but with a hefty lunch break and a morning and afternoon break. There was also plenty of coffee, and breakfasty treats available. I learned so much in these two days my head is still spinning. I really responded to the leader, whose dry humor made me laugh even in the morning hours, and she was very straightforward and easy to follow. I can only think of one thing I didn't learn, and that's about how peer reviewers score grants, but I also haven't explored the information we were given very thoroughly yet. On the second day, I was able to bring the campus ministry's computer and do a few searches on it using the wireless available at the country club, and also get the ministry's camera software installed. The workshop was expensive, but I feel it was worth it, and I hope I can write some great grant requests to earn my keep (the ministry paid for it!)

3. Projects one and two for the summer are complete, both blankets, and are soon delivered. I have one more blanket, some pants, and a shelf to craft this summer. I'd also like to work on my wings a bit, and of course on my manuscript.

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.

Pickled Garlic

Hey, peeps.
So, as one of my luxury items, I buy jars of olives with garlic cloves and pepperocini and so on in there...mainly as a result of a Christmas present from my brother-in-law which showed me how enjoyable pickled veg is. Salty, pickly, delicious.
My favorite thing in these jars, aside from the olives, is the garlic, and I want to try pickling some garlic. I'm looking at recipes online, but I want to know if anyone has tried this and if so what your recipe is. I like garlic a lot, but have issues with garlic breath that won't go away under normal circumstances; pickling removes this problem.

A Laundry Poll

Today I dropped off the dry cleaning portion of my closet-incident-related laundry. I've been handwashing sweaters for days (3-4 sweaters per round, three days for complete drying before beginning the process again), and I think I have my method down pretty well by now, even if it is still pretty tiring. I guess I've found the drawback to having so many lush boucle sweaters, especially because they don't always go back into shape easily.

At the dry cleaners, we had a big discussion on three of my items--

• My quilt made of special occasion fabrics, which isn't in the best of shape and which I told them I'd sign a release for...it has had so much food spilled on it over the years and is coming unstitched so if it gets ruined it gets ruined, but it needs to be cleaned.


• My never-worn turquoise mesh top with beading all over. Once again, signed a release. It's a cute top, and who knows, I might someday go to a club again. This is the top that they sold me a silver strapless top to go underneath, and we all know what a great idea that was. I won't be heartbroken if it doesn't come through well, but I hope it does.


• My Prince Edward Island ivory wool cable sweater. It's too big, but it's one of those sweaters that you wear over a thin sweater in the winter when it's blizzarded and above 30 degrees and you want to walk somewhere. Or you're going skating at an outdoor pond and want to move freely and accessorize with a cute hat, scarf, and gloves. The problem is the sweater got the worst of the water from my neighbor's toilet outflow, and the dry cleaners said they didn't think the stains would come out. This one might be relegated to working outdoors in February clothing.

And here we approach my actual question: How many of you have heard that A: You should not dryclean wool sweaters, B: You should not handwash wool sweaters, C: You can machine wash wool sweaters in a garment bag on cool but should not dry them, or D: Any other washing methods.

I'd read online that handwashing was preferable to dry cleaning, or at least that it was natural to do, that it was heat that shrunk a sweater and not water, but the ladies at the dry cleaners insisted that dry cleaning was the only way to prevent wool from shrinking. Said they'd had some bad experiences. I have a few sweaters that are part wool that have held up fine with handwashing, but I have several sweaters that are giant and are completely wool and often handknit. They are too big for me to do myself, which is why I was asking what the dry cleaners offered.

Now, I want to hear your opinions and methods. What do you do with wool?

It Made Me Laugh.

Pushing Daisies: The Return!

Hang out the Do Not Disturb shingle at 10 pm on the next three Saturdays, because Pushing Daisies is airing its final episodes at last!
Yippee!

Scut Farcus!

I had a weird moment of face deja vu last night. I was flipping channels (honestly, summer TV is terrible) between an NCIS rerun, Resident Evil: Apocalypse, and various other shows, and the guy who played Farcus in A Christmas Story, Zack Ward, popped up in both the NCIS episode and Apocalypse. I wonder if actors ever channel flip to see how many shows that they were in are on at one time.

What's Up?

1. Is anyone else having mad allergies? I can tell this is allergies and not illness because of the twitchy nose and sneezing. I'm just not sure what's causing it.
2. My closet is almost back together. I have lots of handwash and some dry cleaning to do yet, but since most of that is sweaters that will go away for the summer once dry, I don't count those. Except I do count how much room they take up right now. In my new shelving system on top of my bureau, I have some shelves and a drawer yet to put things in because I can't decide what's going to go there. It's very exciting.
3. I was "DC'd" (discharged) from physical therapy this week, with instructions to work on my exercises and increase my activity level a bit at a time, and let them know in a few weeks if I'm good to go.
4. I have a new oven. It is shiny and very white. I am monitoring it to see what is normal, but I gave it a fairly literal trial by fire last night by broiling a steak. It didn't set off my smoke alarm, and that's already an improvement.
5. Go Wings!
6. Has anyone watched The Fashion Show on Bravo? I've peeped in a few times just to see what it's like...I dunno. It feels like a knock-off to me. Since I respect Isaac Mizrahi, this makes me sad. Maybe if I could bring myself to watch a whole episode I'd feel differently, but I just can't. It doesn't capture me, and in some cases turns me off. I did spy a pretty great outfit in the past week's episode. It came in second. Oh well.

Am I the only one who notices an alarming resemblance between Roy Scheider and Basil Rathbone, so much so that when Robin Hood was on this weekend, I knew that it wasn't Scheider playing Guy of Gisbourne, but at the same time I couldn't quite believe it?
Anyone? Honestly, it's downright creepy. Put a mustache on them both and they could be twins. Go do a Google image search, and you'll see what I mean. Let me get you started...

Some things I did to acclimate myself to my first weekend off:

1. Hung out with Stir-Fry the cat.
2. Ate pizza.
3. Ate Arby's.
4. Watched Sweeney Todd (finally).
5. Slept four hours on Saturday afternoon.
6. Went to see Star Trek. Had pretzel bites for lunch at the theater.
7. Rolled some coins. Found out I'm out of penny rolls.
8. Watched Tv. Lots and lots of Tv.
9. Read a Daphne Du Maurier short story in Echoes from the Macabre.
10. Fried up some chicken. And ate it.

On tonight's list, I think I might try some jogging. I have been instructed by my phys. therapist not to run more than a half mile, and to run a bit first then stretch (huh? I know.). I also need to watch the rest of last week's Medium to prepare for tonight's. I think I have a Deadliest Catch to watch, too. And I sort of fancy breaking out the Nintendo 64 at some point.

On a humorous note, I had PT today and my therapist was being shadowed by a guy named Jon from a Toledo high school. His name tag, which he claims had been written for him, said "Jon Rehab Shaddow." So of course I made fun immediately. Later, I told him not to look up my shorts when I was being stretched. It was that kind of morning.

(Addendum: Star Trek was awesome. I hardly ever go to the theater, and I'm really glad I went for this.)

Updates

#1: I am finished with reading my stack of 112 portfolios, and I had ample time to help out in the portfolio room, which I have never done before and which I enjoyed quite a lot.
#2: I am behind on doing 205 portfolios, and with 10 students coming tomorrow and a pedicure keeping me from doing the 4 for the next day, I'd better get home and get cracking right quickly. Especially with new Fringe and new NCIS tonight. Oops, and Deadliest Catch. Oh, dear. Thanks a lot for turning in so many exercises at the last minute, students. Hello, VCR.
#3: I had a better therapy appointment the other day. My therapists, Ann and Amy, are sweet people, and I know they were just getting a little carried away trying to sort out my skeletal and functional unevenness, but (with a little prodding from me, re: my treatment goals (i.e. no pain in my leg)), they finally decided to treat the pain first via massage and ultrasound and then take it from there. Both of these elements seemed to help so far, so that's positive. I have another appointment on Thursday and one on Friday.
#4: Star Trek opens this weekend. Bring it!

PT

Now, you might be asking yourself what a sassy lady wears to Physical Therapy. The answer is posted at left. Yes, that's right, I wore short shorts and knee high socks, and a very fetching hoodie from Carrie.

I figured, if the problem is in my leg, I might as well make my leg...available, you know?

The trouble is, not a lot happened with my leg, and that was the really frustrating part.

At my first appointment, last week, I was analyzed and evaluated; the therapist gave me a few upper back stretches and signed me up to see someone else about my pelvic structure. I arrived to that 9:30 appointment on time. They couldn't find me at first on the sheet. The reason? They'd marked me down for 9 am and given me a no-show. I showed them my slip, given to me by whomever made the appointment, and they kindly reworked the schedule so that I could see the person I was supposed to see.

So, I was in. And spent another forty minutes being analyzed and evaluated. So long, that the therapist's NEXT appointment was already in and ushered to the gym (Said the intercom), and before I'd left the therapist's NEXT appointment was in (a touch early, but still).

Now, let me tell you what it feels like to take more than the usual appointment time while a person tries to figure out what the heck is wrong with your structure. It feels awful. Especially when about five minutes of that time is spent addressing the immediate problem that brought you to that place, the soreness and lack of flexibility in the back of your leg. I know better than most that problems elsewhere in the body might aggravate an injury, and I do want my pelvis straightened back out if possible. But what I really want is for my right leg to heal and quit hurting so that I can stretch and kick properly again.

I'm hoping they're still planning to do the ultrasound therapy, and I am signed up for three weeks of three-times-a-week therapy, sometimes being double-treated by the two PTs I've seen. On Monday, I'm getting the "to be continued" part of my session today, i.e. the answers. An upslip was mentioned. It was questioned whether my left leg is actually longer, or if it's really all in the hips. I was also called out for standing with my knees locked and chest too far back, which is funny because everyone is always telling me to straighten up. The posture I was given to try sucks. I really am going to have to work with these people on not ruining my dance posture in exchange for...whatever.

The best part is both PTs pointed out to me that my back muscles are unusually tight...which I could have told them. Yes, I know I'm compensating for things in dance that my body can't do because I'm not as naturally flexible as I'd like to be. I store tension. It's what I'm good at. I'm like a poised cat almost all the time, ready to jet. I don't relax. I'm type A, what do you want from me? It will be interesting to see what they want to do about that. Again, I have things I need to be able to do in dance, and I don't have time to get completely demolished and rebuilt, so they're going to have to work with me so I can be functional normally and dancefully.

I just hope I'm fixable.

Spare Change for Literacy!

OK, so it's not exactly Votes for Women, but it still sounded pretty cool.
On Tuesday, April 21, the Graduate Writers Club, of which I am the advisor, held their Readathon to support First Book.
It was cold. Oh, my, yes, it was cold. And wet. And blustery.
Over the course of twelve hours, 8 am to 8 pm, members of the organization, students from the Arts Village and my classes, colleagues, and interested parties stood out on the steps of the Education Building and read out loud from their favorite works of literature, while monitors encouraged people to donate their spare change.
I was nervous that morning, when I arrived at 7:45 am with my monitor, trying to set things up in the chilly rain. I began to read my favorite childhood book, Emmy Keeps a Promise, while the monitor worked on posters. I thought, is anyone going to give us money? Will there be enough people out here to get us toward our goal? Will people be annoyed? Will my volunteers get pneumonia?
I knew we were going to be all right round about 8:30, when the rain stopped for a time, and the beautiful sun crept over the roof of one of the buildings. A GWC member was reading in one corner, I in another, and things felt really beautiful. As I watched over the rim of my book, I saw people walking by all frowny, and then smiling a little as they saw us and overheard our literature. The first person besides me to give us money dropped a handful of change in our bucket without even hestitating, and I paused long enough to call a thank you after him.
I was out for about two hours in the morning, then over three hours in the evening (during which I read from Gregory Maguire's Mirror, Mirror. All day, volunteers came in and out for their half hour spots, some staying longer, and everyone contributing. I heard tales, when I returned from teaching, of monitors getting scores of people to throw change in the buckets, and spreading flyers around with facts about what we were doing. Also when I returned, one of the monitors successfully got my sheet-poster (made with muslin and duck and electrical tape) to stay up on a column, billowing like a sail so that everyone could read it clearly.
The weather was excruciating (I think we had every kind of rain possible, and we closed the night at no more than 45 degrees!), but somehow the challenge made it all the more endearing. Everyone worked hard to make this work, and since it was my idea and my planning pouring into it, I felt extra warmed by all their efforts. We all believed in what we were doing. Lots of people, despite the cold, stopped to talk to us and say how cool the event was, and asked us if it would be annual.
The proof is in the pile of change I had in the bucket: We raised $169.35. With that, a donation from my Mum, and a portion from the club, I think we'll be able to send $250. How great is that?
I still don't feel quite right--wind burn!--but I'm so proud of the club and of this event.