Shopping extravaganza!

Well, it's been 6 years since I bought a new dress.  So after we got our tax refund the philosopher talked me into going shopping.  (And those of you who know me well understand what a challenge that was... generally I loathe shopping!)

So we went to the usual suspects: Kohls, Penneys, Belk.  Nothing.  Then we hit The Avenue, which is an outdoor mall with small shops like Coldwater Creek, Talbots, Ann Taylor Loft and my favorite, White House Black Market.  I told the philosopher that I refused to spend big bucks for a dress, and he made me *promise* to try on anything I liked, regardless of price.  (Of course I was thinking to myself, "Sure.  I'll try it on.  That doesn't mean I'll BUY it!")

So after some "meh" attempts, we ended up at the aforementioned WHBM.  I tried several dresses on, and absolutely fell in love with one.  THIS one, to be precise.  And with a cute little white shrug, it will be perfect for Sunday!

Then we drove up to Kennesaw to another fun store.  And guess what I found there?  SHOES!!!  But the philosopher absolutely won't let me wear them with my new dress, and for the life of me I can't understand why.   
8-)

And that is the tale of my shopping extravaganza.

A Birthday Present

Yesss, my precioussss.....  it's my Biirthday presssent, yess it isss....

OK, enough Gollum channeling.  Today is my birthday.  I've decided to call this my "Douglas Adams" year, since I'm turning (of course) 42.

My dear philosopher cooked me *homemade* french onion soup this weekend, and tonight I will feast on shrimp and grits.  (Nota bene: Ladies out there, if you plan to marry, here's my bit of advice.... marry a man who likes to cook!!!!)

But an EVEN MORE EXCITING present was emailed on Monday afternoon... a signed contract on our house in Alabama!  (And there was Much Rejoicing... yaaaaaayyyyy)  Now we're just waiting on the home inspection. Here's another tip - if you're selling a house, do not watch Holmes Inspection on HGTV.  Even though our house is in decent shape, I'm having nightmares about having to redo plumbing and electrical and dig up the foundation and replace the roof and.....  well... you get the idea.  (sigh)

There is even more news on the horizon, too.  You may know that I've been waiting since June for "my library" to be renovated so I can work at the campus on which I was hired to work.  (I'm currently driving 2 hours a day.)  My school just installed an interim president, and last week he sent an email listing the critical projects that needed to be done even before the permanent president is hired this summer.  Number three on his "git 'er done" list?  MY LIBRARY!!!!!!!  And it may be that it is a bigger space than previously anticipated, and yea verily that too is a Good Thing.

So I have lots to be thankful for in this new year, and I'm hoping that my 42nd year is a good one.  And on that note, I'll leave you with a couple of my favorite Douglas Adams quotes:

“We have normality. I repeat, we have normality. Anything you still can't cope with is therefore your own problem.”

and

“There is a theory which states that if ever for any reason anyone discovers what exactly the Universe is for and why it is here it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another that states that this has already happened.”

May the force be with you, my friends!  ::grin::

What's in a name?

We took a trip through north Georgia and the length of Tennessee this past weekend, and noted some... interesting... place names.  So I thought they were worthy of comment (and derision, of course).

First:
Crane Eater Community Church (Somewhere in middle Tennessee.)
We couldn't easily tell if we were passing through a town called Crane Eater, but even if we were... really??  Crane Eater??!?  We spent several minutes trying to determine if there was some theological basis for the name, but we got nuthin'.

Second:
Grinder's Switch Winery (Somewhere in central Tennessee.)
Now, I could come up with tons of great winery names (my favorite?  Philosopher's Folly Winery!)  The area has plenty of beautiful mountains, and gorgeous trees, and stunning vistas.  Grinder's Switch Winery is what you decided on????  REALLY???

Lastly:
Bucksnort, Tennessee. (Also somewhere in central Tennessee.)
Yes.  And the gas station where we stopped was the local big game check site when you're done with hunting for the afternoon.  I believe the philosopher was the only male in the establishment wearing a shirt with a collar... no, wait.  He was the only guy there wearing a shirt!  We thought about purchasing a souvenir shot glass or camouflage coozie, but decided against it. 

What Not To Wear?

OK, I admit to being a viewer (I don't think I will go so far as to call myself a "fan") of TLC's show "What Not To Wear".  I've learned some things about how clothes fit, and why certain styles look better on certain body types.  I've giggled at some of the hosts' jokes, and been horrified at some outfits.  There are some "reality shows" that focus on getting a laugh by making fun and demeaning whatever regular joe is on.  This one, I would like to think, really is focused on making the women (who is nominated by her friends) feel better about themselves and how they look and dress.  Plus, the show gives them five thousand dollars to spend in New York City on new clothes.  Bonus!

All that to say, I've been looking in my own closet a little more carefully these days.  And I haven't been all that crazy about what I see.  It's been a while since I've really purchased any new clothes, and many of my "work clothes" are showing significant signs of wear.  So when my dad asked me what I needed for Christmas this year, I told him that I could use some new work clothes.  He was amazingly generous, and Christmas Day I found myself confronted with a $300 Visa gift card and a mandate to "spend it all on clothes".

Did I mention I abhor shopping for clothes?

Sigh.  Be careful of what you ask for - you may get it!  My dear, long-suffering and patient husband agreed to assist me in the task ahead.  I knew some of the basics that I needed, like khaki pants, a black skirt, and a new blouse or two.  But beyond that.... yikes!  Much to the surprise of our biologist friend (visiting us for New Year's), she got roped into the experience too.  And we started the day in my closet, looking at what I already had and what I needed to send to the thrift store.  She wasn't as cranky as Clinton and Stacy are, but it was stressful, let me tell you.  (Did I mention I detest shopping for clothes??!?)

So off we went... to the mall.  To the Big Box Clothing Stores that intimidate me in their vastness and befuddle me in their methods of organization.  By the way, did I mention I have a bit of a snarky side, and it really comes out when I'm perusing current fashions?  This personality feature was merely enhanced by the presence of the philosopher and the biologist!  So once we got the snark out of our systems, we settled down to some serious shopping.

Did I mention I'm also a bit of a ... well ... penny pincher?

So I hit the sale racks.  And came to the realization that the "sale racks" should be called the "tacky clothes no one else would buy racks" or the "clothes in completely unwearable sizes either tent-like or barbie-shaped racks".  Nonetheless, I persevered.  Since I had two watchdogs making sure I didn't bolt from the building, I had to try stuff on.  And I had to try on stuff THEY found.  And they cheered when I said "You know, I kinda like this." And that was affirming, so I wanted to hear it again, so I found another suitable garment.  WooHOO!  A breakthough!

Actually, no.  I gave up the ghost after Sears, Belk, and JC Penney and ran away.  Not empty-handed, but nowhere near done with my task.

So my biologist friend went home, and the next weekend we spent the day in Birmingham.  At the Really Big Mall.  No, the REALLY BIG Mall.  The one with the hotel attached to it!  ACK!  There I discovered two things which surprised me greatly - there is actually a boutique store whose clothing I like and can wear (White House / Black Market) and a very snobby store that sells petite clothing that actually fits (Talbots).  Hurrah - more success!

The following week we had a blizzard that shut down my employer for a whole week.  By mid-week, unfortunately, I was stir crazy.  The main roads were safe, and the retailers were back in business.  So I escaped the confines of our house (leaving the philosopher to his philosophical musings) and went up the road to try my luck one last time.  I had about $75 left, and wanted to maximize my value, so I hit Ross, and Marshalls, and TJ Maxx (These should be labeled STORES "With tacky clothes no one wants to pay retail for".  Then I went to Kohls, and Dress Barn - and, miracle of miracles, I was FINISHED!

So, much like What Not To Wear, here is a catalog of what I got with my Christmas money....

1 black skirt
4 pairs of dress pants
1 pair of jeans (thrift store, I admit, but they fit great and look new!)
2 fine gauge v-neck sweaters
2 sweaters with oxford collars
2 cardigans
2 shells
1 camisole
2 dressy tank tops
1 oxford shirt
1 corduroy blazer

So top THAT, What Not To Wear!!!! 

Hitchcock is Laughing

Birds.  Birds!  BIRDS EVERYWHERE!!  They're following me!  ACK!

I've mentioned before about the long desolate journey I have every day to work. And I've mentioned some of the ...odd ... wildlife I've seen. So last night, driving home, I was swooped by a bird.  (It may have been a bat, but who can tell when it's dark?)  It was an omen, though, of my pending morning commute.  (Cue the menacing "Twilight Zone" theme music here...)

This morning, I passed a rafter of turkeys.  They were congregated in the large area around (I kid you not) the Etowah County Bow Hunters range.  Maybe they had a death wish? Or maybe they were showing their machismo and daring the bow hunters to take the field?  I don't know, but they were looking at me as though *I* might be Thanksgiving dinner, not them!

Later, I saw a murder of crows perched among the branches of an enormous dead tree.  Can you say "creepy"?  Just imagine - the skeleton of an oak, filled with large black birds silhouetted against the rising sun.  Yeah.  "Creepy" about sums it up.

There's a beautiful creek area on my way to work, too.  It's a nearly mile-long stretch where the road crosses several creeks feeding into the nearby Coosa River.  What did I see?  Swans!  Black ones and white ones!  At least these birds didn't seem menacing in any way... but after my first two experiences - and the fact that Halloween approacheth - I'm staying on my guard!

Turkey Trot

I've been beset by turkeys recently. And no, I don't mean "turkeys, as in folks who are slightly gooberish and driving me nuts". I mean Turkeys. Gobblers. Living, breathing poultry destined for the thanksgiving table. THAT kind of turkey.

A couple of weeks ago I was driving past one of the many cow pastures on my way home. I saw a large mass shoot across the road in front of my car. I didn't panic (thank you very much) but only because it cleared my front bumper with space to spare. I mean, I always keep a lookout for deer, and groundhogs, and bats. And even the cows themselves. But I wasn't too sure what that smaller mass might've been (having rejected the aforementioned creatures as being too large, or too small, or too "on the ground").

The next day, passing the same farm, I slowed a bit and inspected the fields beyond the road. I saw some large birds, and thought to myself "A-ha! Turkeys! Mystery solved!" Life went on, and All Was Good.

Then, this past Thursday (I have to agree with Arthur Dent about Thursdays, you know*) I was driving in town and saw, sauntering down the breakdown lane of a the major highway.... a TURKEY! Tail-feathers spread as if to say, "yeah, what's it to ya?" Now, this is Alabama. And you do expect some silly things parading around. But this was a cheeky turkey, and if I had visions of a roaster dancing in my head, who'd blame me? Funnier still, the traffic all around me slowed down too. And I could imagine wives calling their hunter-gatherer husbands "Honey, grab your 12-gauge. Dinner's on the highway!" Heh.

*“'This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays.'” - Arthur Dent, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

My Cat is Trying to Kill Me

But then again, I wonder if she's trying to kill me, or I'm just picking up the evil vibes she's sending the philosopher. In that case, then I'm probably perfectly safe.

But you never know.....

A True Southerner Knows....

I received this via email almost a decade ago. But I think it contains enough good Southern wisdom to repeat it here. If you're a Southerner, feel free to laugh out loud. If you're a northerner, well then.... bless your heart! ::GRIN::

(And abject apologies for "all caps" - it just wasn't worth it to retype!)

1.) ONLY A TRUE SOUTHERNER KNOWS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A HISSIE FIT AND A CONNIPTION, AND THAT YOU DON'T "HAVE" THEM, -- YOU "PITCH" THEM.

2.) ONLY A TRUE SOUTHERNER KNOWS HOW MANY FISH, COLLARD GREENS,TURNIP GREENS, PEAS, BEANS, ETC. MAKE UP "A MESS."

3.) ONLY A TRUE SOUTHERNER CAN SHOW OR POINT OUT TO YOU THE GENERAL DIRECTION OF "YONDER."

4.) ONLY A TRUE SOUTHERNER KNOWS EXACTLY HOW LONG "DIRECTLY" IS - AS IN:"GOING TO TOWN, BE BACK DIRECTLY."

5.) ALL TRUE SOUTHERNERS, EVEN BABIES, KNOW THAT "GIMME SOME SUGAR" IS NOT A REQUEST FOR THE WHITE, GRANULAR SWEET SUBSTANCE THAT SITS IN A PRETTY LITTLE BOWL ON THE MIDDLE OF THE TABLE.

6.) ALL TRUE SOUTHERNERS KNOW EXACTLY WHEN "BY AND BY" IS. THEY MIGHT NOT USE THE TERM, BUT THEY KNOW THE CONCEPT WELL.

7.) ONLY A TRUE SOUTHERNER KNOWS INSTINCTIVELY THAT THE BEST GESTURE OF SOLACE FOR A NEIGHBOR WHO'S GOT TROUBLE IS A PLATE OF HOT FRIED CHICKEN AND A BIG BOWL OF COLD POTATO SALAD. (IF THE NEIGHBOR'S TROUBLE IS A REAL CRISIS, THEY ALSO KNOW TO ADD A LARGE BANANA PUDDIN'!)

8.) ONLY TRUE SOUTHERNERS GROW UP KNOWING THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN "RIGHT NEAR" AND "A RIGHT FAR PIECE." THEY ALSO KNOW THAT "JUST DOWN THE ROAD" CAN BE 1 MILE OR 20.

9.) ONLY A TRUE SOUTHERNER BOTH KNOWS AND UNDERSTANDS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A REDNECK, A GOOD OL' BOY, AND PO' WHITE TRASH.

10.) NO TRUE SOUTHERNER WOULD EVER ASSUME THAT THE CAR WITH THE FLASHING TURN SIGNAL IS ACTUALLY GOING TO MAKE A TURN.

11.) A TRUE SOUTHERNER KNOWS THAT "FIXIN'" CAN BE USED AS A NOUN, A VERB, OR AN ADVERB.

12.) ONLY A TRUE SOUTHERNER KNOWS THAT THE TERM "BOOGER" CAN BE A RESIDENT OF THE NOSE, A DESCRIPTIVE, AS IN "THAT OL' BOOGER," A FIRST NAME OR SOMETHING THAT JUMPS OUT AT YOU IN THE DARK AND SCARES YOU SENSELESS.

13.) ONLY TRUE SOUTHERNERS MAKE FRIENDS WHILE STANDING IN LINES. WE DON'T DO "QUEUES", WE DO "LINES," AND WHEN WE'RE "IN LINE," WE TALK TO EVERYBODY!

14.) PUT 100 TRUE SOUTHERNERS IN A ROOM AND HALF OF THEM WILL DISCOVER THEY'RE RELATED, EVEN IF ONLY BY MARRIAGE.

15.) TRUE SOUTHERNERS NEVER REFER TO ONE PERSON AS "Y'ALL."

16.) TRUE SOUTHERNERS KNOW GRITS COME FROM CORN AND HOW TO EAT THEM.

17.) EVERY TRUE SOUTHERNER KNOWS TOMATOES WITH EGGS, BACON, GRITS, AND COFFEE ARE PERFECTLY WONDERFUL; THAT REDEYE GRAVY IS ALSO A BREAKFAST FOOD; AND THAT FRIED GREEN TOMATOES ARE NOT A BREAKFAST FOOD.

18.) WHEN YOU HEAR SOMEONE SAY, "WELL, I CAUGHT MYSELF LOOKIN' .. ," YOU KNOW YOU ARE IN THE PRESENCE OF A GENUINE SOUTHERNER!

19.) ONLY TRUE SOUTHERNERS SAY "SWEET TEA" AND "SWEET MILK." SWEET TEA INDICATES THE NEED FOR SUGAR AND LOTS OF IT - WE DO NOT LIKE OUR TEA UNSWEETENED. "SWEET MILK" MEANS YOU DON'T WANT BUTTERMILK.

20.) A TRUE SOUTHERNER KNOWS THAT IF YOU ARE WITH A COUPLE OF FRIENDS YOU,YOU COULD BE WITH 2 OR 10. THE NUMBER DOESN'T MATTER.

21.) AND A TRUE SOUTHERNER KNOWS YOU DON'T SCREAM OBSCENITIES AT LITTLE OLD LADIES WHO DRIVE 30 MPH ON THE FREEWAY. YOU JUST SAY, "BLESS HER HEART" AND GO YOUR OWN WAY.

Evening Horrors

As I've mentioned before, there is a 17-mile-stretch of dark, deserted country road that I travel every day going to and from work. And I've posted on some of the suicidal wildlife I've experienced on my evening sojourns.

But now there's something more sinister afoot. Animals no longer seek to hurl themselves in front of my car (which is good). Instead, they lurk on the edges of the road with their red eyes reflecting wickedly in my headlight beams. And it's not just the deer and the cows, oh no. The smaller creatures are getting in on the act. Raccoons, dogs, cats, possums... they sit and watch as I drive past. Quietly. Like they're waiting for something to ... happen.

I fear for my soul, I tell you. One of these days I'm going to be cruising home, minding my own business and my car will break down. In the dark. In the woods. And the creatures will come.

Bloggy Goodness....

So, there are lots of great blogs about food out there. Great recipes, pictures of things so tasty-looking that I'd eat them through the computer screen if I could (oh, when, oh when will they invent "scratch and sniff" electronics??) But I wanted to list two that were more than just yummy recipes and tantalizing photos. There are a couple of food-based blogs that just make me laugh out loud, and I wanted to share those with my readers (both of you!)

1. Cake Wrecks.
As her tagline says "Where professional cakes go horribly, hilariously wrong." Her commentary is side-splittingly funny, and the cakes are, well, side-splittingly bad.

2. Not So Humble Pie.
She's a biological anthropologist who makes extraordinary desserts. Like fruit fly cookies. And periodic table cookies. And gel electrophoresis cookies. (Not to mention some delicious regular stuff too.)

So there you go. Spend some time poking around, laugh and smile and be amazed.

New Technology To Rival Kindle!

Check it out!

The Bio-Optic Organized Knowledge device!

Man, I gotta get me one of these!

Literary Oddities

For all my bibliophile friends out there, you probably know about ABE Books, an excellent source for used and out-of-print tomes. Their slogan is "A Passion for Books" and I thoroughly approve of their mission to sell those many dusty volumes to people who can give them loving homes.

Anyway, they have recently instituted a special room of books (if you can follow my imagination as I consider their website to be an old Victorian house converted to a used bookstore) most likely tucked away in their dusty attic. But isn't that where you always find the best stuff, when you're perusing through a used bookstore or a "junque-store" or a funky antique mall? If there's an upstairs, THAT'S where you go to find the oddities!

Anyway, their attic room is called the Weird Book Room, and it most definitely full of, well, weird books. Books you would find in an attic, in other words! Indeed, when you peruse some of the off-beat titles, you wonder How On Earth someone ever A) came up with that idea, and B) sold that idea to a publisher! You've got titles like Toilet Paper Origami, 50 Sad Chairs, The Great Pantyhose Craft Book, and my personal favorite The Pop-Up Book of Phobias. So hie thee hence, check out their attic room, and ponder the absurdities that our presses have conjured up.

A Ferret and a Calculator

There's a new show on SyFy (what used to be the SciFi channel) called Warehouse 13. (No, I didn't link to the SyFy official website for the show because I find it amazing annoying!) I haven't been able to watch it yet, but merely from a *description* of *one scene* I'm already a fan. It's a cross between the X-Files and Sanctuary with a little Eureka thrown in for good measure, and features two secret service agents (a la Mulder and Scully temperaments) being assigned to work in a warehouse full of... unique... artifacts. The scene is this: a magical teapot that grants wishes. But if you wish for something impossible it gives you... wait for it... a ferret. ::SNORT:: I have it downloaded on the computer at home, and I plan to watch it this weekend. But just from that alone, I give it a thumbs up!

Of course, it helps to understand that I'm someone who loves this kind of random behavior from inanimate objects. I am also a huge fan of Douglas Adams, in particular his Dirk Gently books. There's one scene in Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency where Dirk buys a calculator, an "i ching" calculator. Let me quote:

The electronic I Ching calculator was badly made. It had probably been manufactured in whichever of the South-East Asian countries was busy tooling up to do to South Korea what South Korea was busy doing to Japan. Glue technology had obviously not progressed in that country to the point where things could be successfully held together with it. Already the back had half fallen off and needed to be stuck back on with Sellotape.

It was much like an ordinary pocket calculator, except that the LCD screen was a little larger than usual, in order to accommodate the abridged judgments of King Wen on each of the sixty-four hexagrams, and also the commentaries of his son, the Duke of Chou, on each of the lines of the hexagram. These were unusual texts to see marching across the display of a pocket calculator, particularly as they had been translated from the Chinese via the Japanese and seemed to have enjoyed many adventures on the way.

The device also functioned as an ordinary calculator, but only to a limited degree. It could handle any calculation which returned an answer of anything up to "4".

"1 + 1" it could manage ("2"), and "1 + 2" ("3") and "2 + 2" ("4") or "tan 74" ("3.4874145"), but anything above "4" it represented merely as "A Suffusion of Yellow". Dirk was not certain if this was a programming error or an insight beyond his ability to fathom, but he was crazy about it anyway, enough to hand over £20 of ready cash for the thing.

So hurrah for the strange and unexpected! (Like two posts from me in a single day!)

Signs of Spring

Signs of spring are in the air....

Pine pollen on the cars. Thunderstorms barreling down from the midwest. A green haze of new growth shrouding the treetops. Spinach pushing its way up through the garden soil. An increased prevalance of cat hairballs left in conspicuous high-traffic areas. Yes, all these are signs that spring has arrived.

But the most notable, and perhaps most mysterious signs, are the hints of new life in the cotton fields. As I drove to work the other day I saw the fields, still sleeping after a southern winter of dormancy. Then, on the way home that evening, what a change had been wrought! Upturned soil, furrowed into rich rows waiting anxiously for seed to be sown. It was apparent that the winter hibernation had ended for the plows, and they had finally made their first forays into the crisp afternoon to test their shares and coulters after a long sleep. Perhaps they were teaching their newborn tools the secrets of deep furrows and smooth plowlines. Whatever had awakened these beasts of the farm, they tasted the earth and found it good, leaving their marks behind. Then, after the long day's labor, they retreated to their barns to rest their weary wheels.

Ah....... Spring!!

Scientific Research Gone Wild!

Well.... or not. Actually, one of the following stories is really true. And one ... erm ... not so much. Before you click on the links to each, see if you can guess which is humor and which is real medical research.

Story #1:
Dr. V.S. Ramachandran is a researcher who deals with phantom limbs. (You know... that sensation amputees have when they experience pain/feeling in their missing limb.) He had a patient that felt significant recurrent pain in his amputated arm. How did he resolve this pain? He amputated the phantom limb with a cardboard box and a mirror.

Story #2:
(You have to click on the link to researcher's interview, which is an audio file. He talks about this particular study at about the 3:25 minute-mark. There's also a link to the journal citation here.)
RAAP Syndrome (Recurrent Acquired Arthrosis of the Pelvis) is being researched by Dr. D. B. Stewart. It is a joint disorder caused by repetitive strain to the hips. It is typically found in men who spent much of their youth walking with a exaggerated gait, causing a repetitive injury to their hip joints.

Fun with Names

A silly way to decompress after showing 5 different students how to format documents in Word. 8-)

WITNESS PROTECTION NAME:(mother and father's middle names)
Ellen Fletcher

YOUR MARRIED NAME: (first 3 letters of your first name, first 3 letters of your spouse's first name)
Zangre

YOUR SECRET SPY NAME: (your first name backwards)
Anaz

STAR WARS NAME:(the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name)
Smiza

DETECTIVE NAME:(favourite color, favourite animal)
Maroon Kitty

SOAP OPERA NAME:(middle name, last four letters of where you were born)
Lee Gads

SUPERHERO NAME: (2nd fav color, fav drink, add "THE" to the beginning)
The Hunter Fresca (because "The Hunter Caffeine-Free Diet Dr. Pepper" just didn't work)

FLY NAME:(first 2 letters of 1st name, last 2 letters of your last name)
Zath

STREET NAME:(fav ice cream flavor, fav cookie)
Moosetracks Chocolatechip

ROCK STAR NAME: (1st pet's name, street you grew up on)
Prissy Mitchell

YOUR GANGSTA NAME:(first 3 letters of last name plus izzle)
Smiizle

YOUR GOTH NAME:(black, and the name of one of your pets)
Black Julian (Black Kahula would have been better, but Kahula kitty passed away years ago)

Giving Thanks (in a heffalumps sort of way)

Things I'm thankful for (in no particular order):

Google Images has now added the entire photo collection of LIFE magazine to its digital archives, many that have never been published before.

Florida State's first-string safety Myron Rolle was awarded a Rhodes Scholarship - he wants to be a neurosurgeon. How cool is it that there are college football players who are also excellent college students?

Along the same lines, the philosopher and I are thankful to be visiting friends this weekend in Memphis to watch the Florida State/Florida game. (I will be even more thankful if FSU doesn't embarass itself!)

The Common Cause Partnership is meeting in Wheaton, IL to discuss creating a formal orthodox Anglican province.

The philosopher starts teaching symbolic logic and metaphysics at Samford University in January.

Dewey: The Small-town Library Cat Who Touched the World is being made into a movie.

New Years plans are set with our favorite biologist, who will be visiting us and escaping the frigid climes of West Virginia.

And of course, I'm thankful for family and friends, and all the good things God has provided this year. Have a blessed Thanksgiving, y'all!

Do you sense a disturbance in the Force?

Over in Switzerland yesterday, they cranked up the largest supercollider in the known universe (I say "known" universe, because who knows what the little green men in other universes have done thus far!) CERN (the European Organization for Nuclear Research) has assured the world's population that it is perfectly safe - the galaxy has been doing this for "Billions and Billions" of years so no need to worry that we're doing it underground in Switzerland. The skeptics, on the other hand, started wailing about miniature, invisible black holes and other destructive anomalies (though you'd think they could come up with a better name than "strangelets") consuming the earth and destroying all matter in its matrix.

Well, I've read that story already. It's by Stephen King, called The Langoliers. I'm not thinking so much about the time travel aspects of the story, but it's the description of the Langoliers themselves that strike a common cord. And if you saw that BAD made-for-tv version of this some years ago, visually they looked like black masses with teeth eating the world. (Yikes - now I sound like the cult of Cuthulu!) So these fearful folk should come up with a better description, otherwise King could sue them for infringement on his intellectual property!

Anyway, I thought of something much more practical and of real concern.... did you sense a disturbance in the Force yesterday? Could these "strangelets" actually be midi-chlorians, destined to overwhelm the world and create uber-Jedi? >(As an aside, in the linked article, doesn't the image of the Kennewick Man look at lot like Patrick Stewart??) So that, I think, should be our real locus of worry. I can see it now. There's going to be a huge influx of uber-Sith and uber-Jedi, fighting for supremacy in Manhattan, and - like Predator vs. Alien - we unfortunate commoners will be caught in the middle! Aaaah!

Suicidal Wildlife

I have to drive about 15 miles through the country to get to work. It's a lovely drive in the morning, with lots of beautiful scenery and farms and fields and forests. In the evening it's an altogether different story. Right now my homeward route takes me on the road right at dusk, and I must say that fifteen miles seems like fifty when you're dealing with all manner of suicidal wildlife!

You expect the crazy animals (yes, I'm anthorpomorphizing here... endulge me, ok?) like the squirrels to play their game of chicken. You know what I'm talking about - they stand in the middle of the road and stare you down until you are about to plow over them, then they dart to one side (and hopefully NOT the side you're swerving towards to avoid the animal in the first place!) You even expect that with the larger critters like groundhogs and possums. And unfortunately for them, they are neither as quick nor as canny as the squirrels. And they're also LARGER, which means you, the driver, are more likely to swerve to avoid having to clean your vehicle's undercarriage. The frogs are a bit more challenging - you can sometimes see them hopping across the tarmac, but more often you only hear a tiny "squimph" as you careen over their squished bodies. And really, there's no way to avoid those anyway.

Then there are the deer. Bambi also has a death wish. Fortunately for me (because I drive a tiny Ford Focus) they prefer to wait, poised on the side of the road, for that F350 to zoom by before making their leap. Unfortunately for me, there are a lot of them. And I worry continually that Faline will someday consider it a challenge and see just how Ford-tough my car really is.

The bugs, of course, have plastered themselves so thickly on my front grille and windshield that I really should wash my car every day. And it's the bugs that bring my greatest problem during my dusky commute. The BATS.

Bats are supposed to be smart, right? They have that sonar thing going for them. They can fly, for crying out loud. So I can only conclude that they wish to commit suicide in the most thrill-seeking way possible - by colliding with my car. I counted at least a hundred bats on my drive home last night. What, you say? Bats are small, so how could I possibly count them while driving at 50 miles an hour? Ahh. That's simple. They were flying so close that they were getting caught in my slipstream!

These close encounters with the natural kind brought to mind a disturbing story I read many years ago. It's one by Stephen King called Mrs. Todd's Shortcut. In the story the main character (who appears to be taking "short cuts" through worlds not our own) finds on the front of her car a startling animal after one of her "jaunts" through the back woods. A dangerous-looking animal. One with teeth. One that would probably scare the bejeebers out of me if I saw something like what King describes. After considering my plight concerning terrestrial animals (stupid, suicidal ones, yes, but terrestrial nonetheless) I will be thankful that I find nothing but moths, dragonflies and the occasional bat on my front grille.

Finally, I must not neglect to mention the cattle. I pass several cattle farms, ones where the fences are right up against the road. Almost every night, all those creatures will be close to the fence, as though they were rubberneckers of an accident waiting to happen. I am reminded again of something I read, this time Gary Larson's "The Far Side". There's a particular comic about "what cows do when no one's looking" where you see in the first pane cows standing (on two legs, mind you) in a field next to the fence reading the paper, playing cards, smoking, drinking a beer. The next pane shows a cow (apparently on lookout) yell "CAR!" The last pane has a car driving by, with all the cows down on all fours, looking suspiciously normal.

So that's it, then. The cows are watching the road while playing poker and relaxing with a nightcap, taking bets on which fellow creatures will manage to smash themselves into the next poor slob that drives by. Let's just hope it's not me!

A Simple Desultory Philippic

Stand Firm has a lovely post on three of Simon and Garfunkel's most beautiful love songs. That post inspired me, you might say, to write my own lyrics to a lesser-known but also poignant S&G ditty: A Simple Desultory Philippic With apologies to Paul Simon, here it is:

A Simple Desultory Philippic
(Or How I Was Rowan William'd into Submission)

I been Jefferts Schori’d, Susan Russell’d
I been Rowan Williamed, Frank Griswald’d
I been Bishop Lee’d and Kearon’d till I’m blind
I been Michael Ingham’d, and I’m branded
Conservative, but on Christ I’m standing
That’s the way to salvation, in my mind

I been “Jesus wasn’t resurrected”
I been John Chane’d, Gene ordained
Well I paid all the tithes I want to pay
And I learned the truth from the Episcopal Church
That all my wealth will buy me health
And I can drink some koolaid every day

I knew a man, his brain was so small,
He couldn't think of nothing at all.
He's not the same as you and me.
He doesn’t dig orthodoxy, He’s so unchurched that
When you say St. Peter, he thinks you’re talking about Peter Rabbit
Whoever he was.
The man ain’t got no religion
But it's alright, ma,
Buddha is the way to God!

I been Shelby Spong’d and Righter wronged
Bishop Moore, won’t you please come home?
I been “mother, child, wombed” - unfathomed
Been John Pike’d and Howard-babbled
I just discovered ECUSA’s tapped my phone

I lost my Communion, Rowan