Sunday, October 21, 2007
Playing Catch-Up
Golly! I've been away for days. During that time, I've been tagged by Kim at Knit Whimsies, which I will deliver on in another post, my family and I have helped a friend move, I've gone to work, I've read more stories in "Logorrhea," I've checked Jeffrey Eugenides' book "Middlesex" out of the library, I've almost finished knitting a bath mitt, and I've gotten my new issue of Wired magazine in the mail. Such a useful magazine, Wired is. There's not a single issue wherein I haven't learned something. Since their redesign, they've made it a point to publish even more letters from readers, which I appreciate. Hey, there are some experts out here! I just wish I knew who wrote the smart-ass intros that lead off reader letters.
We've had rain, rain, and more rain in central Minnesota. It makes me think back to high school French class, where I learned to say "Il pleut," which means "It's raining." You say "pleut" as "plu" - kind of a short "u," but with some "e" mixed in. It almost sounds like rain when you say it, especially the sort of gray, plodding rain we've had. My mom told me that she had heard that if all the rain we've had lately were snow, we'd have 180 inches. Bring it on, baby! The white stuff, please, not more rain. Have we turned into Portland or Seattle?
We've had rain, rain, and more rain in central Minnesota. It makes me think back to high school French class, where I learned to say "Il pleut," which means "It's raining." You say "pleut" as "plu" - kind of a short "u," but with some "e" mixed in. It almost sounds like rain when you say it, especially the sort of gray, plodding rain we've had. My mom told me that she had heard that if all the rain we've had lately were snow, we'd have 180 inches. Bring it on, baby! The white stuff, please, not more rain. Have we turned into Portland or Seattle?
Labels: family, french, friend, jeffrey eugenides, knit whimsies, knitting, logorrhea, middlesex, minnesota, mom, portland, rain, seattle, snow, weather, wired magazine
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Freak Storm, Freaked Robins
We got a freak Minnesota snowstorm today. Well, it isn't actually that freaky for Minnesota, but once it's reached April and we've lost our snow and had sixty degree days, it throws a loop in the schedule. I had to clean off the car twice this morning it was accumulating so quickly. The consistency is slop with a veneer of white. The robins have returned from wherever it is they go in the winter and the poor things were trying to figure out how to deal with the sudden snow. As I was driving, I'd come along groups of them huddled in tire gulleys in the road. I had to get really close to them before they were willing to move. I bet they're thinking they should've waited a couple more weeks before coming back from vacation.
Labels: driving, minnesota, robins, snow, winter
Monday, March 26, 2007
Perfect Minnesota Day
Let's just start this off by saying that there really isn't one particular sort of perfect Minnesota day. When you're a Minnesotan, you learn to enjoy the changeability of the weather and you stock up on different kinds of perfect days. Today is perfect because the sun is gazing kindly down upon us from a pale blue sky, the earth is warming and smells wet, the temperature is forecast to reach 70 degrees Fahrenheit, and there are no bugs - and, by bugs, I mean mosquitos. Only the barest traces of snow remain. The snowboard hill is no more than a Nike swoosh on the brown grass. The trees aren't budding yet, but it doesn't matter because it's warm enough to be outside and active. Ahhh! It's basking weather.
Labels: minnesota, mosquitos, nike, snow, spring, weather
Monday, March 19, 2007
It Could Go Either Way
Here I sit at the computer, periodically looking out the window facing our backyard. The snow is melting rapidly and I can see the hole my children dug last summer. They've arranged some old bricks and pieces of cement at one end of the hole in a strangely Stonehenge fashion. Further back in the yard, almost to the alley, they've constructed a snowboarding ramp of snow (what else?). It's a sizeable pile, the most sizeable in the yard, but no longer any good for snowboarding. Our compost heap is exposed and almost looks larger than the snowboarding pile. Spring and winter are mixed in the wind. It could go either way.
The weather perfectly mirrors my writing mood today. I've finished a story and am ready to start a new one for the series I'm working on and I realized yesterday that while I've got a character, I've got no plot yet. So, I've done a little online research and am mentally messing around. No sense in forcing these things. I'm tempted to take a little detour. I've always got several story ideas brewing, but have been setting some of them aside while working on my series. One of them has been poking at me to write it out. We'll see . . . .
The weather perfectly mirrors my writing mood today. I've finished a story and am ready to start a new one for the series I'm working on and I realized yesterday that while I've got a character, I've got no plot yet. So, I've done a little online research and am mentally messing around. No sense in forcing these things. I'm tempted to take a little detour. I've always got several story ideas brewing, but have been setting some of them aside while working on my series. One of them has been poking at me to write it out. We'll see . . . .
Labels: backyard, characters, children, hole, idea, minnesota, mood, research, snow, spring, story, winter, writing
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Now It's Time to Have Some Fun
Here is the beauty of a snowfilled winter in Minnesota - we get to play in it, which we did today. The hubby and I took our oldest two children (the youngest is at a sleepover) to a sledding hill, while we did some snowshoeing. There's a rhythm to using snowshoes - rock and waddle, rock and waddle. We shooshed over vast, almost untouched crusts of white with rainbow glitter. The unmarred snow is so tempting to mess up, to leave a mark, but when one does so, it's not particularly satisfying. It's better just to contemplate walking over it or making a snow angel. (Besides, how does one make a snow angel with snowshoes on her feet?)
Hiking through snow is definitely a work-out. I'm out of shape and the first few minutes on snowshoes left me breathless and sore. I was ready to quit, but kept going and noticed something. If you push on to the point of sweating, suddenly the pain goes away and a trance-like state takes over. Must be endorphins. They sure feel good. After the exertion, I'll sleep well.
Hiking through snow is definitely a work-out. I'm out of shape and the first few minutes on snowshoes left me breathless and sore. I was ready to quit, but kept going and noticed something. If you push on to the point of sweating, suddenly the pain goes away and a trance-like state takes over. Must be endorphins. They sure feel good. After the exertion, I'll sleep well.
Labels: children, exercise, husband, minnesota, snow, snowshoes, winter
Friday, March 02, 2007
Furnace Update
Well, we thought we had fixed the furnace by removing snow from the outdoor pipes, but we were mistaken, albeit that was part of the problem. Did you know that there is also a vent on the gas meter that has to be clear at all times? Yup, the things you learn when something goes wrong. So, everything outside was clear, but we were still having trouble. We could hear the furnace trying to start, the fan was going, but it wasn't igniting. Okay, it was igniting maybe once an hour, which is not often enough, and it wasn't staying on long enough to heat the house. We were down to 60 degrees F this morning. Another call to Dad. He said to check the drain hose on the furnace. A little bit of condensation forms inside the furnace, which is drained through a tube that comes through the furnace wall and down into a pump. If this is plugged, the furnace won't work. We messed with the hose and the pump and the furnace fired up. It's been operational since, but we still want someone to come look at it to be sure there isn't some other problem and to fuss with the drain hose a bit. The interior drain hose is pinched, so that might be causing the problem. More furnace tips of the week, and more shoveling. Ahh, it's Minnesota.
Labels: dad, drain, furnace, minnesota, problem, shoveling, snow, temperature
Thursday, March 01, 2007
More Snow
We are making up for lost time in Minnesota. After a winter practically devoid of snow, within one week we've gained inches and inches. Last weekend we got fourteen inches. Between yesterday, today, and tomorrow, we're expecting another foot or so. My shoulders certainly feel it. I'm soft from not having to shovel before this, so lifting pounds and pounds of snow is giving me a workout I'm not used to. I swear I spent more time outside than inside today. I've been trying to shovel every so often so I don't have to try to move mountains of it all at once. 'Round about three o'clock this afternoon, I collapsed on the couch with my Wired magazine in a funk of white-hot exhaustion. I wasn't a happy camper for a couple of hours. My kids, on the other hand, were delighted. They were released early from school. Yippee!
In the midst of all the shoveling, our furnance decided to quit working. I put on my geek hat and tried turning the switch off and on a couple of times. I opened the front panels and checked to make sure the wires were all attached. Then, I called my dad. He asked if the ventilation pipes for the furnace were blocked. Sure enough, when I went outside to check, the air intake pipe was completely covered (with snow, what else?). When this happens, or when the balance between the intake and exhaust pipes is upset, the furnace has a safety switch that keeps the furnace from turning on. As soon as I cleared the pipes, she fired up. There you have it, your furnace maintenance tip of the week.
In the midst of all the shoveling, our furnance decided to quit working. I put on my geek hat and tried turning the switch off and on a couple of times. I opened the front panels and checked to make sure the wires were all attached. Then, I called my dad. He asked if the ventilation pipes for the furnace were blocked. Sure enough, when I went outside to check, the air intake pipe was completely covered (with snow, what else?). When this happens, or when the balance between the intake and exhaust pipes is upset, the furnace has a safety switch that keeps the furnace from turning on. As soon as I cleared the pipes, she fired up. There you have it, your furnace maintenance tip of the week.
Labels: dad, exhaustion, furnace, geek, minnesota, school, shoveling, snow, winter, wired
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Kinky Boots
During the middle of the snowstorm last night, the hubby and I ventured out to the video store and rented the movie Kinky Boots. It's a Miramax film. The screen shots are stunning and gorgeous. The story is fabulous. Kinky Boots didn't get much press upon release, but it is well worth seeing. Do not let the title scare you. It's rated PG-13. The basic plot is about a man who inherits his family's shoe factory in England. He doesn't really want the thing and the men's shoes the factory makes are going out of style. Enter a drag queen, who is played by Chiwetel Ejiofor, and the plight of the factory shifts. Chiwetel has quite a list of professional credits, although this is the first movie I've seen him in. Judging by his performance, which was dead-on fantastic - especially his singing as Lola - he should reach a high level of fame. Here's hoping he does.
Labels: chiwetel ejiofor, drag queen, husband, kinky boots, movie, shoe, snow, story
Clean-up
About fourteen inches of snow later - with a few more inches expected tonight - and this morning it was time for Minnesotans to clean up. The plows were out. The husband shoveled. The neighbors shoveled. I got in the car to retrieve our boys from sleepovers and got stuck. Help was immediately on the way. When I drove around, being careful to avoid plow debris, there were people out everywhere, shoveling and snowblowing and plowing. I never see so many people on the street and in their yards as when there has been a massive snowstorm. And everyone is so helpful. Our boys helped shovel out a couple of sidewalks; our daughter plans to do the same this afternoon. There's still the car to clean off and shovel out in the backyard, which I'll be doing momentarily.
All this work, and the fluffy white stuff is simply beautiful. Ahhh.
All this work, and the fluffy white stuff is simply beautiful. Ahhh.
Labels: children, husband, minnesota, shoveling, snow, weather
Saturday, February 24, 2007
10 words, 20 minutes
Hey, hey! It's snowing! We haven't gotten much, so far, just a coating over the grass, but it's picking up speed. I vaguely remember hearing thunder last night - how weird is that?
Anyway, I promised a writing exercise for this weekend in one of my comments. I call it 10 words, 20 minutes. I'll give you 10 random words. You have 20 minutes to do something with them. Use them to write a poem or essay or song, heck, draw a picture using them if you like. The only rules are that you have to use all 10 words and you have only 20 minutes to do it. (You can fudge the time a weensy bit if you're finishing a thought when time's up, but don't keep writing on and on forever.) Feel free to alter the words using generally accepted English language principles, i.e. snow can become snowing, or snows, or snowed.
Ready? Here are your words:
cream
irony
notch
beg
scarab
taste
harmony
juvenile
leather
scribble
If you need to look up any of the words, your dictionary time doesn't count towards the 20 minutes.
Gather yourself together and Go!
Anyway, I promised a writing exercise for this weekend in one of my comments. I call it 10 words, 20 minutes. I'll give you 10 random words. You have 20 minutes to do something with them. Use them to write a poem or essay or song, heck, draw a picture using them if you like. The only rules are that you have to use all 10 words and you have only 20 minutes to do it. (You can fudge the time a weensy bit if you're finishing a thought when time's up, but don't keep writing on and on forever.) Feel free to alter the words using generally accepted English language principles, i.e. snow can become snowing, or snows, or snowed.
Ready? Here are your words:
cream
irony
notch
beg
scarab
taste
harmony
juvenile
leather
scribble
If you need to look up any of the words, your dictionary time doesn't count towards the 20 minutes.
Gather yourself together and Go!
Labels: create, dictionary, exercise, snow, thunder, weather, winter, words, writing
Friday, February 23, 2007
A Promised Snowstorm
We in Minnesota are waiting with baited breath* for a promised snowstorm. Forecasts all day have been saying to expect 12 to 14 inches over the weekend. We're thrilled at the prospect, but a little doubtful all the same. The situation reminds me of a short story that I once read in an Alfred Hitchcock anthology. The story was about a girl who was originally from Earth, but her family had immigrated to another planet. On this new planet, the sun only shone once every so often - at some ridiculously long, but predictible interval. The little girl missed sunshine and was teased for her weirdness. She was in class the day the sun was due to shine, but the mean little buggers who were her classmates locked her in a closet and she missed the whole thing. That's where the story ended, leaving readers to wonder whether she went insane and slashed her wrists or mowed the little snots down with a machine gun.
So, here we are, Minnesotans chomping at the bit for snow. The grocery store was packed with people stocking up in hopes of hunkering down all weekend. The results remain to be seen. The ten o'clock news showed that the system had shifted about 100 miles south, so some of us might not get the promised snowstorm. Darn it, darn it, darn it. Please, please, please . . . if we promise to be good, can we have some snow? A great big dumping? Please, please, please?
*Baited breath - What is that exactly? The fumes from an anchovy and onion pizza?
So, here we are, Minnesotans chomping at the bit for snow. The grocery store was packed with people stocking up in hopes of hunkering down all weekend. The results remain to be seen. The ten o'clock news showed that the system had shifted about 100 miles south, so some of us might not get the promised snowstorm. Darn it, darn it, darn it. Please, please, please . . . if we promise to be good, can we have some snow? A great big dumping? Please, please, please?
*Baited breath - What is that exactly? The fumes from an anchovy and onion pizza?
Labels: alfred hitchcock, baited breath, earth, grocery store, minnesota, reading, snow, story, winter
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Gray Snow
It was snowing on my drive home from work. A gentle, full-bodied snow mixing with almost dusk, pulling gray down to the ground.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Sobering
The hubby and I just watched Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth" movie last night. Sobering. Our daughter said she didn't want to watch it because the subject of global warming is depressing to her. Or, as she puts it, "We're all gonna die!" Al Gore has been working on this topic for decades and we could have made some progress by now, if it hadn't been for the ostrich-like politicians and the short-sighted petroleum companies. (Of course, GREED is their middle name.) And, now we get to live with the results. Glaciers disappearing. Antarctica & Greenland breaking up and raising the level of the oceans. We're seeing the effects first-hand in Minnesota, with the dreadful lack of snow this winter.
Do we really think that Earth is wedded to having homo sapiens living on her surface? Or, are we a bad case of dandruff she wants to shake off? Can't say as I blame her, really. (What did those Neaderthals do to tick her off?)
The good thing about the movie's popularity is that global warming is now undeniable and if we pull together, we can help Earth to heal herself. The trailer for the movie shows a bunch of small steps we can take that will drastically cut global warming emissions. In watching them flick by, I realized that we're already doing about half of them. We have a ways to go. If we could just put a windmill in our yard . . . .
Do we really think that Earth is wedded to having homo sapiens living on her surface? Or, are we a bad case of dandruff she wants to shake off? Can't say as I blame her, really. (What did those Neaderthals do to tick her off?)
The good thing about the movie's popularity is that global warming is now undeniable and if we pull together, we can help Earth to heal herself. The trailer for the movie shows a bunch of small steps we can take that will drastically cut global warming emissions. In watching them flick by, I realized that we're already doing about half of them. We have a ways to go. If we could just put a windmill in our yard . . . .
Labels: al gore, daughter, earth, glaciers, global warming, homo sapiens, husband, inconvenient truth, minnesota, snow, winter
Monday, December 04, 2006
Big Knobs on Gas Pumps
Winter floated down to Minnesota, dusting us with a half-inch of fluffy, dry snow. Fun to shovel because it's not back-breaking. You could practically blow it off the sidewalk if you wanted to bend over far enough to do so. If it's going to be cold, we'd better have snow, is what I like to say. Snow makes the cold bearable. Don't like the wind, though. You know how people are always saying, "It's not the heat, it's the humidity"? In Minnesota, it's not the cold, it's the wind because it leads to windchill.
I had to get gas this morning. Gas stations tend to attract wind. So, I've got the cold and I've got the wind and now I've got to take off my gloves in order to push the tiny keypad buttons to start the pump. Whoever designed these keypad buttons didn't take Minnesota winters into consideration. We need to be able to operate those pumps without removing our protective gear. Any good Minnesotan knows that once the temp drops below zero and the windchill is factored in, fingers will start snapping off in a matter of seconds. (Okay, I'm exaggerating, but not much.) Here's an idea. How about some large colorful knobs on the pumps that we can push without taking off our mittens? They'd be good for the arthritic, too. Or for those who've lost fingers from frostbite caused by taking our gloves off at the pump.
I had to get gas this morning. Gas stations tend to attract wind. So, I've got the cold and I've got the wind and now I've got to take off my gloves in order to push the tiny keypad buttons to start the pump. Whoever designed these keypad buttons didn't take Minnesota winters into consideration. We need to be able to operate those pumps without removing our protective gear. Any good Minnesotan knows that once the temp drops below zero and the windchill is factored in, fingers will start snapping off in a matter of seconds. (Okay, I'm exaggerating, but not much.) Here's an idea. How about some large colorful knobs on the pumps that we can push without taking off our mittens? They'd be good for the arthritic, too. Or for those who've lost fingers from frostbite caused by taking our gloves off at the pump.
Labels: gas, idea, minnesota, snow, wind, windchill, winter
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Prince
I like to listen to a radio station (remember those?) that plays "music from the '80s, '90s, and today," as the announcers keep reminding me. I've heard Prince's Raspberry Beret a few times - must be a favorite of the station. Prince is the kind of guy that, when you look at him, you might assume such a hip, well-appointed dude would come from a place like Los Angeles, or London, or New York , or Paris. Not Minnesota. Anywhere but Minnesota. It's hard to be a fashion plate here when four-six months of the year you have to stuff yourself into snowpants, boots, poufy down jacket, hat, mittens and scarf. This is not to say that Minnesotans aren't hip. We are, but our hipness is understated and earthy - the barest tip of the seed cap, the casual nose-wipe with the cloth hanky.
The great thing about Prince is that he has never denied his Minnesota roots. If you're listening carefully to Raspberry Beret, those roots are evident in one line: "We went riding down by old man Johnson's farm." Farms are not typically associated with L.A., London, N.Y. or Paris, so that's a giveaway, but it's really the "Johnson" that makes this a Minnesota song. You see, Johnson is to Minnesota what Li is to China, or Smith is to old-fashioned hotel registers. You'll not get more Minnesotan than Johnson, unless perhaps you use the name Nelson. I wonder who could possibly have that last name?
The great thing about Prince is that he has never denied his Minnesota roots. If you're listening carefully to Raspberry Beret, those roots are evident in one line: "We went riding down by old man Johnson's farm." Farms are not typically associated with L.A., London, N.Y. or Paris, so that's a giveaway, but it's really the "Johnson" that makes this a Minnesota song. You see, Johnson is to Minnesota what Li is to China, or Smith is to old-fashioned hotel registers. You'll not get more Minnesotan than Johnson, unless perhaps you use the name Nelson. I wonder who could possibly have that last name?
Labels: beret, hipness, minnesota, prince, raspberry, snow
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Birthday Snow & Stars
Today's my birthday. Winter has descended upon central Minnesota with a great whip and a crash. That's how it goes here - summer one day, winter the next - or very near that anyway. We're used to the weather's manic-depressive cycle. It keeps us on our toes.
We had snow flurries and rapacious cold today. I can remember this happening on my birthday once, maybe twice, before, which means that snow in mid-October is a rarity in Minnesota (despite what you may have heard about constant winters in our great state.)
Upon hearing the forecast, I spent yesterday evening cleaning the yard. When winter hits, I like to be prepared. Forlorn rakes and spades, a stiff, serpentine hose that threatens to split, a glass jar in a trench - these are not things that ought to spend the winter buried under snow. So, I scurried around in the cold half-light, putting things away and generally tidying up. I'm ready to become house-bound and cozy, with irregular shoveling and snow-shoeing forays.
Because this is my birthday, I've been mulling an astrologically-related idea. Eleanor Roosevelt (one of my heroes) and Elmore Leonard (sorry to say, I've never read his books) share my birthday, along with a gal in the next block and a gal in my son' s class.
I was deep into astrology when I was a teenager, figuring out astrological charts for me and my friends. I still have my first astrology book, which has most of those charts recorded in it. (No small feat for a person who thinks writing in books is a sacrilege.) I even spent $11 to order a professionally drawn personal chart. This was not a small sum at the time. The overall gist of this chart seemed to indicate that I'd be a late bloomer creatively. I still have the chart, though I haven't looked at it in ages.
Now, I like woo-woo mystical stuff as much as a lot of us human beings do, but I'm also attracted to science and want to come up with ways to either prove or disprove some of this stuff. Because astrology tries to attribute personality types to the movements of the planets, it might stand to reason that those born under the same sun sign might share the same taste in aesthetics. Those born on the same day at the same time might be even more similar in taste. So far, astrology has been deemed a load of bunk, but has anyone taken the time to see if there is a statistically significant relationship between taste and birthday?
What has me wondering is that my neighbor who shares my birthday and I happen to be crazy for the same band. If a band with a large following could survey the birthdates of its fans, might a statistical relationship become obvious? Hmmm . . .
We had snow flurries and rapacious cold today. I can remember this happening on my birthday once, maybe twice, before, which means that snow in mid-October is a rarity in Minnesota (despite what you may have heard about constant winters in our great state.)
Upon hearing the forecast, I spent yesterday evening cleaning the yard. When winter hits, I like to be prepared. Forlorn rakes and spades, a stiff, serpentine hose that threatens to split, a glass jar in a trench - these are not things that ought to spend the winter buried under snow. So, I scurried around in the cold half-light, putting things away and generally tidying up. I'm ready to become house-bound and cozy, with irregular shoveling and snow-shoeing forays.
Because this is my birthday, I've been mulling an astrologically-related idea. Eleanor Roosevelt (one of my heroes) and Elmore Leonard (sorry to say, I've never read his books) share my birthday, along with a gal in the next block and a gal in my son' s class.
I was deep into astrology when I was a teenager, figuring out astrological charts for me and my friends. I still have my first astrology book, which has most of those charts recorded in it. (No small feat for a person who thinks writing in books is a sacrilege.) I even spent $11 to order a professionally drawn personal chart. This was not a small sum at the time. The overall gist of this chart seemed to indicate that I'd be a late bloomer creatively. I still have the chart, though I haven't looked at it in ages.
Now, I like woo-woo mystical stuff as much as a lot of us human beings do, but I'm also attracted to science and want to come up with ways to either prove or disprove some of this stuff. Because astrology tries to attribute personality types to the movements of the planets, it might stand to reason that those born under the same sun sign might share the same taste in aesthetics. Those born on the same day at the same time might be even more similar in taste. So far, astrology has been deemed a load of bunk, but has anyone taken the time to see if there is a statistically significant relationship between taste and birthday?
What has me wondering is that my neighbor who shares my birthday and I happen to be crazy for the same band. If a band with a large following could survey the birthdates of its fans, might a statistical relationship become obvious? Hmmm . . .
Labels: astrology, birthday, eleanor roosevelt, minnesota, music, snow, stars
