handcraft research

Just slapping a few links up for me to return to later.

how to make your own crochet hook

how to make plarn

I'm in the midst of planning yule gifts. One of my nieces has already requested that I make her Audrey from Little Shop of Horrors. To say the least, I'm going to be busy.

Ideas

going to this site for a few ideas for yule. will add more later.

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I'm pretty sure that Stargazer would have laughed when I told her I was planning on making some Yule gifts based in higher mathematical concepts. I've been interested in the Klein bottle hats. I saw a knit one and thought that it would be perfect to make for my brother in law. Then I realized that my knitting skills are not quite up to that level yet. At which point I found a crochet one.

And then I saw this hat and decided that I am going to have to make it for my son at some point in time. It's not really as math oriented as the other hats, but it was still a good find.

At some point, I want to make a Möbius scarf but I am having a hard time picking what pattern I want to use. I know that I'm not going to have the time to make up the DNA model this year. That, however, is alright because I am thinking that I'm going to make a scarf based on the Fibonacci sequence. I've made a few washcloths and an art piece (crochet for all of those), so I'm pretty sure the scarf will be a fairly straight forward thing.

changes...

Feh! I just screwed around a little with the layout on here. Partly because I was bored and not desiring to go to bed just yet and partly because I was annoyed with it.

I'm now consigning it to the fates and wandering off to bed. If I'm lucky, I'll sleep well tonight despite my back.

I hate monday.

I forgot that fact. Then today happened and I was reminded. The boys were just all out monsters for me. Jumping on the furniture was the least of my headaches. I found myself understanding why some animals eat their young.

I really hope that the weather allows the boys to get outside some tomorrow. If anything, I'll have them run laps around the house a few times or something to burn of some of this wild energy. Good Gods grant me strength and sanity. I love my children, I really do. But I spent a good portion of my day asking myself "What the hell was I thinking?"

You know what this means, of course, tomorrow they'll both be sweet as pie and well behaved.


...


Or did I just jinx myself? >.<

My Pride and Joy!

To the left is a picture of my youngest son. He's the little guy affectionately known as Snuggle Bug. It has become something of an ironic nickname for him. He was a very cuddly baby at times. Snuggle time, however, happened only on his terms.

Now age two, he is my little holy terror. My FiL and I have jokingly called him a shark. As my FiL has said, he has two modes: go and stop. Snuggle Bug is a very active little guy and loves to do things full bore.

Currently, he is quite thrilled to be doing things like jumping on the couch or climbing everything we own. Snuggle Bug absolutely loves going to the park and playing on the swing. He has recently decided that he is going to start giving the slides a try. As such, he has been trying to climb up them like he sees the older children do. It has made for much silliness.

To the right is my eldest child, known as Cuddle Bug. True to his nickname, he is a little lover. This (like the picture above) is a picture that is several months old. His hair is not as long now and that outfit no longer fits. That, however, is the way things go with toddlers.

Cuddle Bear loves his little brother and does a lot to try to help me out with him. He is, also, a rather independent child who doesn't exactly enjoy having a little shadow. I remember trying to get away from my younger brothers much like he tries to get away from Snuggle Bug. It's not that easy.

Cuddle Bear adores the color purple and fire trucks. He is a quiet child with the beginnings of a deep love affair with books. I'm fairly certain that he will be the one I find hiding with a flashlight under the covers with a book.

Birthday shenanigans & thoughts.

Yesterday, we held a combined birthday party for Cuddle Bear and Snuggle Bug. The boys had a ball playing with balloons as we were waiting for the guests to arrive. Beloved had been nervous and worried that we hadn't enough food for everyone. I, however, was fairly confident that things were going to go fine (after a brief spate of social anxiety driven panic). The weather was beautiful and the park was just lovely.

As the guests arrived, it quickly became apparent that not everyone we had invited were able to make it. I was a little disappointed but I recognize that life will throw curve balls at us and it can be hard to do everything you want in a weekend. (This was a big change from the last time I tried to throw a party and quite a few of the guests were unable to come. Then I got rather upset and felt rejected. It wasn't fun at all.) Even with the smaller number of guests, we still had plenty of folks to eat up the goodies we had there. The rainbow colored goldfish crackers that my MiL brought were especially well liked by the kids.

When the time came for presents, it became obvious that I had hit one out of the park. The firetruck that I found at the thrift store as a last minute purchase was the favorite toy of both boys. Thank goodness that Beloved's brother brought a monster truck for Snuggle Bug. He headed off the screaming fit right at the pass. For a good while, the boys alternated between which truck they were playing with. All of the adults made a point of complementing them on their sharing of the toys.

Amusingly enough, the firetruck was such a big hit that the boys were at first indifferent to the big presents from Beloved's parents. Snuggle Bug, after a while, did finally start playing with his wagon. He seemed to really enjoy picking up gravel and dropping it into it. Then, with some coaxing, Cuddle Bear started to play with his tricycle. He wasn't as excited about it as we thought he would be. Then I remembered, Cuddle Bear gets to use one fairly regularly at preschool.

We had cake but no candles on it. Beloved and I thought it would just be a lot easier that way. We now have half of a sheet cake sitting in the kitchen. Cuddle Bear wanted to bring it down to his best friend, Ladybug* but the weather isn't exactly agreeable to walking down there. I am sure that Ladybug and Wort** will be equally delighted with sharing some cake tomorrow after school.

I was a fool and forgot my camera at home. Thus, there are no pictures of the party this year. I hope to get a good one of the boys playing with their newest toys later. Perhaps I'll get lucky and get a good picture of Cuddle Bear on his new tricycle tomorrow. I think the weather is supposed to be sunny and warm tomorrow. Today, it is raining. I'm not going to complain, however, because the drought still hasn't broken.

The rain we have gotten recently and my diligent watering has resulted in my tomato plant having more then just two tomatoes on it. I'm quite excited. The pepper plant seems to have finished flowering. If I'm lucky, it will have peppers on it soon as well. I am planning on bringing some of my fresh vegetables down to Ladybug and Wort's mother in the coming week. She's been ill and I think some homegrown produce would cheer her up. I may even bring some herbs down.

My marigolds seem to have recovered some from getting so terribly dried out recently. I've started to get blossoms on them. It is my hope to collect some and dry them for making an herbal tea later. The first few blossoms that I had harvested are currently being rained on because I forgot to bring them in. I hope that they'll dry out well for me in the sunny weather to come. I have been reading about how one can use marigold blossoms to dye fiber with a little bit of vinegar.

Some interesting articles about solar dying have had me seriously considering dying some of my fiber from my MiL with this technique. I may even go so far as to save some onion skins and some red cabbage to try dying with that as well. I have a few mason jars free and a gallon of vinegar. If it really is as simple as steeping it like sun tea, then I believe I am going to give it a shot. I like the idea of dying my own fiber with stuff that I have immediately at hand. I may have to do a little bit more reading before I give it a shot. Either way, I hope to get some pictures of this up once I get underway.

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* Ladybug is Cuddle Bear's best friend from preschool. She's about a year older then him but they get along like two peas in a pod. Beloved and I got a chuckle out of the fact that they're best friends. That was how he and I started out. If we're at their wedding 20 something years later, Beloved will be informing them that I had predicted it (in jest).

** Wort (from the old middle English word for plant and the nickname for Arthur in Disney's The Sword in the Stone) is Ladybug's little brother. He's five days younger then Cuddle Bug. He and Cuddle Bug play together regularly. Both boys seem to be becoming fast friends as well. It is something that their mother and I would like to encourage.

It's called Separation of Church and State, moron!

I don't generally pay much attention to the Christian Science Monitor. There was something about their article about Texas Governor Rick Perry that caught my eye. So, I sat down and read the article. I was fully prepared for someone to be softening his very 'conservative' views in an attempt to make him more palatable to others. I was prepared for a bias in his favor because he is a highly visible and politically well connected individual who supports the aggressively evangelical face of the Christian faith in the United States. Thus prepared, I read the article and my jaw hit the floor.

I then did a little digging to see if they were actually sugar coating just how far to the 'Right' he was. Then I read what Forbes had to say about him and this prayer rally that went on today. I read the official 'about Rick Perry' page, the Wikipedia entry, and several other pages (including his Facebook page). As I learned more about the man, the more disturbing the idea of his having influence over a state, let alone on a national level, became.

Sure, he has done some impressive things. He's got a squeaky clean image and the camera seems to love him. His positions on economic matters are interesting. This, however, doesn't make up for the fact that he endorses the concepts espoused by the American Family Association of Tupelo and similar organizations:

• The protections of the First Amendment apply solely to Christians.
• Homosexuality is a moral threat to the nation.
• Abortion should be illegal.

I could go on, but these are the three big turnoff's for me. The protections of the First Amendment are inviolate and extend to all citizens of the United States regardless of their religious affiliation. Any movements to some how curtail this should be regarded with great resistance. It is the First Amendment that makes our nation great. I'm not saying we're perfect, but the fact that you can, among other things, speak your mind freely and practice your religion freely is a strength.

I highly object to the argument that homosexuality is a moral threat to the nation. Homosexuality has been around for a very, very long time. The idea that it is suddenly this new threat is preposterous. Among the minds that lead to the development of this nation, were most undoubtedly homosexuals. Their sexual orientation didn't undermine the establishment of this nation. It's pretty safe to assume that there's a percentage of the population who fought to establish and maintain this nation through out history were homosexuals.

I think it's safe to say that homosexuality is a non-issue on the matter of the welfare of the nation. Logic aside, the argument of moral threats to the nation should be suspended. Why? Because moral issues are religious issues. Please, refer back to the First Amendment on this issue if you need to have that position of mine clarified. It's pretty simple.

Abortion is not the problem. It has been made out to be the problem when the majority of abortions are performed for medical reasons. As a matter of course, the idea of abortion for the sake of birth control is not going to be the preferred method, unlike what many of the anti-abortion folks insist. Making the medical procedure illegal returns us to where women are at an increased risk of dying during pregnancy. Depending on how the law is phrased, a naturally occurring miscarriage can be illegal.

As a woman who has six miscarriages, I take great offense at this prospect. The idea that a woman who has already been traumatized by the loss of her child could then be facing murder charges sets my blood boiling. Unfortunately, the anti-abortion groups that have the strongest lobbing presence support laws that would criminalize women like myself. The medical community doesn't fully understand why miscarriages happen. To take something nebulous like that and criminalize it sets the precedent for greater injustices for the sake of the 'social conscience.'

I am dearly hoping that Rick Perry is just a flash in the pan. If, by some weird happenstance, he does prove to be the Republican candidate, I'll be one of the folks doing their best to get people NOT to vote for him. People like that, who regard the Constitution as applying only to them, are dangerous. It's only a small ideological jump to fascism.

Blessed First Harvest!

I'm still in pain from my fall back in early June. The muscle relaxant that the doctor prescribed for me isn't doing much to help. It makes things like weeding the garden difficult. After a long day, I must admit, it is something that tends to slip by the wayside. Still, I do what I can and keep my hopes up for rain. We're currently in the middle of a rather wicked drought, you see.

I didn't let that stop me from harvesting a little bit of my home grown produce. My pepper plant has put out only one pepper thus far. It was quite small but exceptionally flavorful. I used half of it in my macaroni salad that we had for dinner tonight. I also harvested a bit of basil and some of the nasturtium leaves. I chopped those up fairly fine and tossed them into the salad too. It was just as pleasurable to eat as it was to make.

I'll slap up the recipe at the end of this post. I tried to make it through the day with out any soda. I failed horribly. I'm realizing, however, that I get the desire to have some when I get stressed out. It has become (or has been and I didn't realize it) a coping mechanism. To say the least, I need to replace that with something that is kinder to my waistline. I am going to attempt an experiment of sorts with my force of will.

When I desire a cold glass of soda, I am going to replace it with a glass of water. I figure since I have a fair amount of lemon balm (which is doing beautifully despite the drought), I can start adding a few bruised leaves to my water. Aside from that, I'm going to resume adhering to the little amusing expression: keep calm and have a cup of tea. It is my hope that my will shall hold out and I can break this soda habit.

As my daily walking has been curtailed significantly by my injury, I need to cut calories where I can with out doing too much harm to myself. I don't want to get back down to being about 110 lbs. That was a dangerously unhealthy weight for me to be at and I have decided that I never want to be that skinny again. When I was walking about four miles a day and living on a fairly lean diet, I got to be about 150 lbs. I don't think I had ever felt healthier then I did at that weight.

It is a rather enormous thing that I have done just by way of walking and portion control. This time last year, my weight was up to 280 lbs. It was due to a combination of stress eating, medication side effects, and a somewhat sedentary lifestyle. Depression really takes a huge bite out of your energy and stamina for pretty much any form of exercise. Since then, I have dropped down to 195. I have been exercising fairly regularly.

I was attempting to get 8 miles of walking in each week. I had been making pretty good progress on that up until I fell out in the garden. Now I get roughly four miles in each week by walking down to get Cuddle Bear from the bus stop. I want to get more walking in, but right now it's painful. At times, my leg will even go numb. My Father-in-Law suggested that perhaps I had pinched a nerve when I fell. Given that the Tylenol isn't doing much for the pain and the muscle relaxant isn't helping either, I suspect he is right. Thankfully, the doctor is confident that I didn't break anything when I fell. Thank goodness for small mercies, right?

Well, I'm running out of stuff to ramble about right now. I'll slap that recipe up.
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Macaroni Salad (quick version)
Ingredients

• 2 1/2 cups cooked macaroni (or other small pasta)
• 1/2 small bell pepper (diced)
• 1/4 bag of frozen mixed vegetables
• 1 cup whipped salad dressing (or mayo)
• 3 nasturtium leaves (shredded fine)
• 4 sweet Italian basil leaves (shredded fine)

Step 1: Cook pasta.
Step 2: Place colander in sink with frozen vegetables in it.
Step 3: Pour pasta and water into colander, rinse with cool/tepid water.
Step 4: Toss pasta and vegetable mixture to make sure vegetables are thawed.
Step 5: Transfer pasta and vegetable mixture to a large bowl.
Step 6: Add bell pepper, nasturtium leaves, and basil.
Step 7: Add salad dressing and mix together well. Make sure all of the salad is evenly coated.
Step 8: Chill for 15 min in the refrigerator.
Step 9: Serve!

evening shadows

My good friend ArtCat did an excellent job of describing PTSD. He said:

PTSD is like a hydra. If you do things piecemeal, you may resolve one symptom but two more will pop up in its place (or it will return twice as bad as before). You need to strike at the root and work through the fundamental issue in and of itself. Everything else should be taken in context of that.

I... I have a hard time with my cPTSD when I reach the end of the day. Beloved pointed it out to me the other day and it's been rattling around in my brain. At the end of the day, I run out of things to distract me from my disorder. I find my emotional reserves are fairly close to tapped out and I dread going to sleep. Even with my medications, nightmares will come fairly regularly. They just don't have the same kind of effect on me that they did before.

I suffer from emotional flashbacks on a daily basis. I haven't the slightest idea what is triggering them. This upsets me greatly. I just want to get to the root of this latest go on the hellish merry-go-round. I want to face this stuff down and move on as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, it's simply not that easy.

I sit here, trying to figure out what more to write. I don't know why I'm posting this here, even. I guess it's just to get it out and off my chest. I want to cry. At the same time, another part of me decries it as a sign of weakness, which must never be allowed. I feel confused, hurt, and alone. I don't know why. It's terrible to feel this way because I don't know what set it off.

Science is getting interesting.

A few days ago, I read this really interesting story about how scientists grew and then successfully implanted an organ into a person using their own tissues. I thought that was really exciting news. I knew that nanotechnology was getting applied in various interesting ways throughout various industries. What I didn't know was how far advanced it had gotten in the medicine sector until I read that article.

I have a friend who had to have a double lung transplant almost two years ago. I immediately pointed this article out to him. We both agreed that it was pretty amazing. The idea that medicine has advanced far enough that we could theoretically grow a new, healthy version of an organ that was diseased and failing was something that just struck us as wonderful.

Granted, we're both of a mind to watch these developments carefully. Organ transplants are notoriously tricky and the risk of rejection is always high. The proof of success in this case is going to be a bit down the road.

But then I stumbled on to this article and I was just left in shock. It was only a few years ago that the idea of regrowing a fingertip was science fiction. To see evidence that it has been done just left me in awe. What is going to be next?

Obligitory Casey Anthony post.

As a person who reads the news and occasionally blogs about it, I suppose I must put in my two pennies worth on the subject of the Casey Anthony fiasco. Fiasco really is an understatement. I think train wreck may be a better way of describing it. It was a disaster from the beginning.

One may ask, why I think it was a disaster from day one. My answer is really simple, the media sensationalized the living hell out of it. Imagine if this case unfolded and the mother wasn't involved beyond misreporting a missing child. There wouldn't be half as many people screaming for blood as there are today. Let's take this little thought experiment a bit farther. Let's imagine if the person involved was an acquaintance of the family. The number of people screaming for that person's blood would drop off exponentially.

In my opinion, the first thing that judge should have done was bar the media from the courtroom. I think it should be a standard practice in any and all high profile cases. This should be as routine as sequestering jurors. Did the district attorney botch their case? Probably. Is Casey Anthony guilty? I don't know.

There's a chance that she is guilty as hell. That doesn't matter in the eyes of the law, however, because a jury of her peers found her innocent. Yes, a terrible thing happened to a little girl. The injustice of it smarts because we can't pin the crime on any one person's head and exact some form of vengeance, because let's face it that's what people are looking for with the death penalty.

That doesn't mean that we automatically criminalize parents who don't know immediately if their child's missing. Older children are harder to keep track of then younger children because they're much more independent. Guess what, that means that little Suzie may be spending the night at her friend's place and if she and her friend get lost while they're out doing stuff, Suzie's parents aren't going to know until at least 24 hours later.

I'm not a big fan of that sensationalist rag the Huffington Post. At times, however, they have good articles. This article does a better job then I can illustrating why we shouldn't jump to knee jerk conclusions and start changing/writing laws in the heat of populist passion. Cases like that of Casey Anthony and O.J. Simpson are rare. Writing laws that affect everyone because of things that happen in these outlier cases is bad policy.

The Roman philosopher and statesman Marcus Tullius Cicero said it best:

The more laws, the less justice.

Gentler sex? My German ass.

Any one who argues that women are incapable of evil or some similar nonsense on the basis of their gender is a moron of the first caliber. I read about a Rwandan woman in the news today and I was beyond disgusted. A former minister, this woman ordered the execution of helpless refugees and the rape of many women and girls. Why, one asks? Because they Tutsis and she was part of the Hutu government who felt that this minority were subhuman.

Life in prison is far too humane for this woman. A slow death with great pain and the erosion of her sense of dignity is far too kind even. I don't know what an appropriate punishment is for someone who orders the genocide of another people or the systematic sexual torture of others. Anyone who claims that knowledge of Christian values serves to prevent barbarism is willfully ignorant of cases like this.

Ranting again.

This time, it's not people from Facebook in my sights. It's an acquaintance of mine. I can recognize that disability takes a heavy toll. As some one who has been diagnosed as disabled myself after *decades* of being undiagnosed, I fully comprehend just how difficult it is to move forward in life despite it. Disability, however, doesn't serve as a blank check to get you out of being a responsible adult. Having a marriage that is on the rocks doesn't excuse being a self absorbed, immature 'brat'.

An active and inquisitive child does not make them a brat, neither does their age. Brat is not a term of endearment. It's an insult and it means that the child is spoiled, irresponsible, and unmannered. Sounds more like the parent then the child, in my stated opinion.

I don't like you. I pity you because you seem to lack the intellectual ability to behave as an adult. I out grew the childish behavior that you regularly indulge in when I was in my early teens. You're almost forty, it's well past time you grew up. One of these days, I'm going to tell you exactly what I think of you, your husband, and both of your behavior. It seems like the only one who has something going on upstairs is the child and the inmates are running the asylum.

Rambling in the garden.

I have a bit of a garden going. It isn't all in one spot but that doesn't really matter. It's now been almost a month now that I have been working at this. I'm learning a fair amount as I go along. Among the first things I think I can say I have learned is that I prefer gardening alone to having help. It is a relaxing, meditative, prayerful act that helps to center me in the face of my constant anxiety.

I have also discovered that I get cranky if I go too long with out having some kind of interaction with my plants. I am concerned that some of the seeds I have planted won't come up. It was something of a disappointment to realize that I worried about the plants. It made that bitter critic in me mutter 'as if you didn't have enough to worry about...' That was a rather hurtful moment. The other was when I discovered that my miniature rosebushes just are not going to bloom more. I am holding out hope that there will be additional future blooms, but I have a bad feeling they may just be done for the season.

It has been one of the areas in my life that is relatively untouched by my creative block. I suppose that is because the plants I am growing are all fairly hardy and tend to take care of themselves to some extent. I just need to water them and weed. I don't have to put myself much more on the proverbial line then that. For a little bit of time, I am being rewarded with an abundance of fresh herbs to cook with, healthy tomato and pepper plants, and (soon) fresh strawberries. Now I just have to be patient enough to let the flowers come up.

On writing, knitting, & other art projects

It has been a grueling week for me artistically speaking. The only form of artwork that hasn't been semi-painful to endure is my knitting. I've been forcing myself to write. It hasn't been fun in any sense of the word. The morning pages feel like they're filled with epic failure and minutia that really shouldn't be penned.

The Sanctuary manuscript only has a handful of pages added to it. Most of them are just flat and have been excruciating to write. It's funny, according to the word count, I have it finished. That's how I won NaNoWriMo. The story, however, isn't done. I still need to find a way to marry the work I have typed on the computer with what I have hand written in a note book. I haven't even fleshed out the scenes that I barely put to paper in something of an outline.

I'm struggling with an enormous sense of apathy and creative drought (Julia Cameron really hit the nail on the head with coming up with that expression) in my textile arts. The knitting is like a band-aid. My crochet washcloth book is languishing for want of writing down patterns.

My loom is idle. I have it warped but I just can't muster up the emotional effort to sit down and weave. I can't seem to figure out what I want to even use for my weft here. I used my handspun purple merino to warp it. I adore the color but now... I can't figure out what I want to use to weave. A part of me says I have to use wool while another part says I need to just grab what ever I have on hand and start throwing the shuttle.

Some how, my sketch book has gone missing. The project room ate it, I think. I have been mourning the loss of that particular item, though I haven't felt particularly pressured to draw or paint. I feel pretty bad about the fact that I haven't been painting. I just can't get past this enormous sense of failure. I don't know why I feel like a failure in my painting, but I do.

It all comes together in this black morass of misery. The morning pages, I suppose, are like my lifeline or something. I'd prefer a golden thread to help me get out of this labyrinth of a block, to be honest.

Ramblings

Snuggle-Bug is sitting on my lap as I type this and we're listening to Pollywog In A Bog. We like the Barenaked Ladies' album Snacktime. The boys really enjoy the songs and will dance around the living room to them. Hubby enjoys this one too - Drawing. The album is full of a lot of fun music and BNL has a great sense of humor. We had enjoyed BNL in high school when were first introduced to their work. As time goes on and we explore their work, we just find more reasons to love this group.

I was just stunned by the news today...

Really, I was utterly shocked when I read this article from Reuters. Scientists have proven that formaldehyde is bad for you. Not just kinda icky, but really bad for you. I am in awe and horror.

How was the sarcasm? Did I do a good job? Did I fool you? ... No? Yeah, I wouldn't have believed me either. Don't feel bad. Get ready, kids, here comes the rant!

Ok, I'm going to make an assumption here that a large majority of my readers are in the USA and have (or will have) taken a high school biology class. And in something like 95% of those biology classes around the country, you are required to do a dissection. It may be of worms, fetal pigs, frogs, or even fluffy the cat. In most of those cases, the critter to be chopped up is preserved in ... (wait for it!) ... FORMALDEHYDE!

Now, maybe it's just me and my redneck-hillbilly ideas, but if they use it to PRESERVE DEAD THINGS, it might not be such a good thing to consume. We drink alcohol. Too much alcohol is bad for you. We eat stuff with salt in/on it. Too much salt is bad for you. We consume foods with tannic acid in it. You know what I'm going to say next, so I'll spare you the obvious statement. Now, small amounts of alcohol, salt, or tannic acid won't kill you. That's why we can drink wine, eat our salt coated french fries, or have that cup of tea and NOT die.

When you look at compounds like formaldehyde, one glaring thing REALLY stands out. It is a POISON. Every container you find of the substance tells you NOT to consume it. Don't drink, eat, or breathe the fume. It is BAD for you. Who in the nine hells do you expect really wants to have some formaldehyde on the side of their meal? Last I checked, it wasn't the new monosodium glutamate (aka MSG) that you sprinkled on everything to make it more flavorful by tricking your taste buds and subsequently becoming addicted to it.

Oh... wait... I wasn't supposed to mention that bit about MSG. Oops. ... *Shifty Eyes* We'll just keep that little secret between us, ok? *Winks*

Back to the rant... Anybody who has been in high school biology most likely remembers the strict admonishments of their teachers not to smell, taste, or otherwise consume their experiment. Just a ... well, a little suspicion here... If a substance is OBVIOUSLY poisonous, it's probably safe to assume it's going to have a laundry list of other REALLY bad effects on the body. If you're lucky, cancer is the least of them.

It wasn't just the Visigoths who did in the Romans. It was the lead pipes too. Trace amounts of lead in the water resulted in lead poisoning. Lead poisoning is BAD. It screws up your brain. So... perhaps we're dealing with some of the modern version of lead pipes for Rome. Just a theory, mind you. Honestly, are we supposed to be shocked and hail this "discovery" as some earth shattering news? It's fucking formaldehyde, people.

Pardon me, I'm going to go look for my nearest source of lead and drink up. I obviously am functioning at too high of a brain power for my country because I didn't need this discovery to tell me that a poison is bad for me.

Space Race part 2?

I read an article stating that NASA is going to use a vehicle from Lockheed for future missions. Reading the article over and the oblique statement that NASA is considering manned missions deeper into space, I was struck by two things. The first was that the process by which a man (or woman) is launched into space hasn't really changed all that much over the years. You put them into a small orbiter and strap 'em to a *BIG* rocket. Then you pray it doesn't blow up on the launch pad or have some other catastrophic failure.

For some reason, I thought we'd get farther in our efforts to explore space more efficiently. Reusable orbiters are awesome, don't get me wrong. I thought that was one of the more awesome aspects to the space shuttle. But... I don't know how to phrase it. I was struck with some kind of hope that with the X prize and the research being done in various private sectors (who are all in a bidding war for the next 'space shuttle' nod from NASA) that somebody would possibly develop a better launch system.

The second thing that occurred to me was just how deep into space are they talking about going? Science fiction has dreamed of interstellar and intergalactic travel. Parsecs ticked off like miles on the odometer, and such. Is it a dream or a nightmare that our government who can't manage to figure out how to keep the roads in decent repair is planning their next proverbial moon shot and talking about deep space? I can't shake the image of Hal losing it's marbles. Something about this talk of deep space exploration strikes me as unnerving, but I can't quite place my finger on it.

Rambling thoughts.

I'm not really sure what to write here. It's been ... Well, it's been quite a while since I've sat down and posted in here. I feel inadequate right now. I think it's just a passing thing, however. It's been a long day.

Cuddle-Bear (my eldest) is starting preschool. We've gone in for a few hours over the last several days. He's taking to it very well. They're talking about transferring his speech therapy and occupational therapy to being done at the preschool in the fall. I'm trying hard not to be nervous about this.

He's improved a lot over the last several months with the speech therapy. We're getting actual sentences out of him where it was before one word responses. He's beginning to show some improvement with his diction and pronunciation. His vocabulary is just blooming beautifully as well.

We've only just started the occupational therapy. (As in, last week was his first session.) I really don't understand what all of it is about. The gal who is his therapist says that a big part of what they're going to be working on is sensory processing. She says that will help him get past things like his utter terror of the vacuum cleaner. I really want to see him succeed, and if this is what's needed, then so be it.

Snuggle-Bug is teething, again. And this child... oh good goddess, he's a handful. I didn't realize how much we were spoiled with Cuddle-Bear until Snuggle-Bug started getting into mischief. He's 18 months going on 3, I swear. One of Snuggle-Bug's favorite things to do, right now, is to climb on the furniture and stand up.

It'd be one thing if the furniture he chose to do this was stationary. The desk chair at Beloved's desk, however, is most certainly NOT. This resulted in a tumble this morning, which I think upset his Grandpa more then it upset him. The boy's also been eying the bookcases with interest. I think I'm going to have a lot more gray hair by the time we get done with this phase.

And then there was Snuggle-Bug's newest trick. Since he's teething, his nose has been a bit runny. Sometime today, Snuggle-Bug discovered he could blow snot out of his nose. It resulted in laughter from Cuddle-Bear and great disgust from Grandma and I. He kept doing it and I think we must have gone through at least half a box of tissues. I'd say my feelings on this 'accomplishment' can be summed up in one word: EW!

Beloved's birthday is tomorrow. I gave him his presents early. I made him hypnotoad and camo ninja. Camo ninja comes from the movie Ninja Terminator. It was his birthday present a few years ago. Hilariously bad kung fu movie; if you need a laugh, watch it. Hypnotoad is hypnotoad. I'll be posting the patterns for these up soon.

I'm not sure what else to add. I guess that's it for today.

Facebook ranting.

Yesterday Hubby pointed out that the 'Facebook activisim' is ridiculous. I took it a step farther and called it activism for cowards. I suspect that offended a few people. To be honest, I kinda hope it did. I can't stand the idea that spamming your friends (a few hundred people) with the same bullshit status multiple times with the request that they spam people on their list is some how socially acceptable.

It's like chain letters. I absolutely abhor chain letters. I have since I was a kid. The idea that not sending it on to five other (or what ever the random number generated is) will bring you bad luck or some other misfortune is as laughable as the idea that it will bring good luck. With the popularity of social networking sites, I suppose the chain letter phenomenon was going to catch up to there as well. The whole concept disgusts and infuriates me especially when it comes to matters of social responsibility.

If you feel strongly about an issue (such as child abuse) and you want to do something about it, get off your misbegotten ass. Spamming people or sending chain letters is a pathetic attempt to placate one's sense of social responsibility with no effort. It's a lot like just praying for someone who is unable to put food on their table. Prayer by itself may be powerful but it's nothing compared to prayer supported by action, such as helping that person to get a hold of their local food pantry.

Waving your internet sign from your internet soapbox will be useless unless you have some real action to support it. You may not be able to go march in the streets but there's always *something* that can be done, even by one person who is flat broke. There's an old expression, God helps he who helps himself. It means get off your lazy ass and do something about the problem.