Monthly Archives: April 2009

Shindig at the Dayton House

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The proprietress of Marcy Gifts, Marcy Costello (see Beth Rickers’ awesome story), is having an open house at the Historic Dayton House today. Since the Dayton House is only a block or so away from the Globe, I moseyed down there after lunch today and checked out some of the shinies.

Marcy has all kinds of cool stuff from Peru. The jewelry is simply gorgeous, and though there’s a wide variety of styles, the most common type seems to be very simple, very elegant earrings and bracelets with clean, sweeping lines and delicate shapes.

The specialty of the house is silver, naturally, since Costello herself comes from a long line of silver crafters in Peru.

If you’re not into jewelry, though, there’s still plenty there, including alpaca sweaters, alpaca teddy bears, alpaca hats and alpaca scarves, shawls and cloaks. It’s sooooo soft to the touch, even I had to pick up one of the teddy bears and give it a hug. 

And I’m not usually big on stuffed animals.

There are also some impressively bright woven baskets of many sizes and shapes, perfect for summer picnics and summer place settings. They came in bright blues, bright oranges, bright reds and even a more staid brown for us boring people.

The baskets would be a great place to put hamburger buns when you grill, or, in another size, great for keeping your napkins from blowing away on the shores of ultra-windy, picturesque Lake Okabena.

There are belts, hand-crafted, but I don’t know how. Sorry, I’m just not that artistic. The meticulous embroidery on the coin purses obviously took forever to painstakingly apply, in the shapes of leaping fish, gliding birds and stylized owls.

Now I know what you’re thinking. (Really. I’m psychic. Okay, psycho. Same diff.)

You’re thinking "Man, that’s so girly! I’m a guy, I wouldn’t be caught dead looking at such girly things."

Not so! Note the gender-neutral alpaca hats above, and the gender-neutral gray scarves!

Also, note the date on the calendar. You forgot about Mother’s Day, didn’t you, you ungrateful son you!

Fortunately there’s plenty there for any mom, whether they’re the practical "buy me something I can use" type or the "I want pretties" type.

Finally, Marcy Costello herself is there. When I was there around 1:30 p.m., she was serving delicious samples of some sort of Peruvian spiced chicken, served over boiled potatoes. Yum.

And there was also some sort of Peruvian drink, which I didn’t ask about but probably should have. It tasted fruity and oddly, spicy. I suspect it contained anise, which is almost always a good thing in  my opinion.

I could have asked Marcy, but I was immediately distracted by something shinier at the next table, and I have the short-term memory of a goldfish. She’s quite happy to answer anyone’s questions, too.

Drop by the Dayton House before 6 p.m. today if you’re interested in seeing any of Marcy’s products. If you’re not in the area, though, take a look at the Marcy Gifts website.

 

Very Important Swine Flu Note

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You cannot get swine flu from eating pork.

The swine flu is actually a hybrid of three viruses, one of which was a swine flu virus, and that’s why it’s called "swine flu." It also has pieces of a bird flu and a human flu virus in it.

So far this particular flu virus has not been identified in pigs. Not even one pig.

And I know this is a bizarre thing, but all the swine flu stories have given me a severe craving for… well, swine.

(If you’re Jewish, vegetarian or Muslim you may want to skip the next paragraph, people.)

I want bacon. I want pork chops, grilled, with generous quantities of pepper. I want pork roast, with loads of fattening, savory gravy. I want souped-up pork chops with mushroom gravy and enough mashed potatoes to choke an elephant. I want pork gravy, I want bacon bits, I want pepperoni, I want pork tenderloin.  I want a salami sandwich.

I am going to have to cook.

Becoming an Old Lady with A Million Cats

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It’s too early to worry about becoming the neighborhood’s semi-official Crazy Cat Lady.

The rational part of my brain reminds me of this, and the fact that I’m only 28, at every opportunity. Unfortunately, the irrational part, the one that’s seeing my brother — and my cousin, and apparently every other person I’ve known ever — get married, is still shrieking "OMG you’re gonna die alone! ALONE! And then YOUR CATS WILL EAT YOU!!!!!"

I think I watch too much TV.

It reminds me of another quote from High Fidelity (the movie is highly quotable):

We were frightened of being left alone for the rest of our lives. Only people of a certain disposition are frightened of being alone for the rest of their lives at the age of 26, and we were of that disposition.

I’m not the only one. Some others in the increasingly small pool of friends who aren’t already married are worried.

So let me play the rational side of my brain out today and say: don’t worry so much. Senior citizens get married. You’ve got time. Just take it easy.

Also: Do not buy any cats.

Losing My Mind

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If I lost my mind, no one would be surprised.

I’ve already lost a ton of other things, after all. At summer camp, I lost my pillow. While doing laundry, I lose socks. During a skiing trip, I lost an earring. A week ago, I lost my shampoo and conditioner and a pair of cheap, ineffective goggles at the YMCA in Worthington.

And now I’ve lost my swimming cap, somewhere between the Y and my apartment. Or possibly in my apartment. Let’s be honest, I could lose any number of pillows, socks, earrings, hair care products, goggles and swimming caps in there.

I could probably lose a small elephant or a quiet child in there, if there are such things. It’s only a single-bedroom apartment, but I’m a clutterbug and I seem to have far too much furniture for the space I have.

I also have too many books. Books are infectious. As soon as you have one book, you have the urge to buy more books, whether you’ve read the first one or not, and pretty soon you end up with books stacked double-wide on the bookshelves. Which really eliminates half the purpose of bookshelves, if you ask me, since they’re supposed to both store and display books, to make them easier to find.

 I even have too many blank books. When I moved I brought a full box of blank books, beautifully bound in leather, cloth and paper, and I still have them. They are still blank. I can’t bring myself to write in them, because even though I write every single day for this blog and Reprint and the paper, putting my inscrutible handwriting on a beautiful white piece of paper just seems wrong. So I still have a box of blank books.

At least I don’t often lose books. I do misplace them, however. Occasionally, I find books on my bathroom shelves, or on chairs in the dining room, and sometimes, for no apparent reason, they turn up in my refrigerator.

That will be the first place I look for my mind.

Still Not Time to Panic

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But there’s a lot going on with regard to the swine flu. As of 1 p.m. Eastern today, there are 28 confirmed cases in New York City. The numbers will almost certainly continue to rise as laboratory tests are completed.

It is still not time to panic. Just stay aware, wash your hands and read, watch or listen to the news (whatever your preference).

The Daily Globe will have an article about the swine flu tomorrow, with information from local healthcare professionals.

Reporter Julie Buntjer is working on it as I write this.

Swine Flu: What’s the Skinny?

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I’ve been hearing a lot about swine flu for the past couple of days.

It seems to be the biggest health scare since the bird flu made the rounds and frightened everyone half to death. Bird flu is actually still making the rounds, but awareness helped fight the flu that threatened to turn into a pandemic (global epidemic).

So let me offer you a few reliable sources for information on the swine flu.

First, the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, the U.S. government health organization in Atlanta. As of 9 a.m. this  morning, the CDC states that 20 cases of swine flu have been confirmed in the U.S. So far none of them are in our area, but they have turned up in California, Kansas, New York, Ohio and Texas, with California (7) and New York (8) having the most.

The CDC also notes that there are treatments for the swine flu, because the virus that causes it is susceptible to prescription antiviral drugs. So if someone you love is diagnosed with swine flu, remember that it is not a death sentence.

The CDC also reminds people to do the usual things to ward of flu: wash your hands, don’t touch your mouth/nose/eyes, etc.

For a more global perspective on the swine flu, check out the World Health Organization‘s page. According to the WHO, Mexico has actually confirmed fewer cases of swine flu than the United States. Whether this is because the healthcare in some of the poorer areas of the country is not good (and thus cases are not diagnosed promptly and then confirmed in a lab), or because there really aren’t that many cases, I do not know.

Either way, it’s best not to panic.

Finally, here’s Time Magazine’s article on the swine flu. It’s not as focused on the swine flu itself as it is on the idea that it may become a pandemic, which is why it is the last link I offer you this morning. It’s still early enough that I think and hope we can catch it before it becomes a pandemic, so the Time article’s focus on that is a little too heavy, in my opinion. However, the information seems to be fairly reliable and Time is a reputable publication.

This is not a good time to listen to conspiracy theorists or rely on unsourced information, so be very careful to check the source for anything you read on this topic online. There’s plenty of crazy out there, and I don’t mean the good kind where you wear underwear on your head and dance around like a doofus to Handel.

A Little Mood Music

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I love depressing, sad music that tells a story, but sometimes I wonder about the effect it has on me, which brings me to this quote from the movie High Fidelity:

"What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"

Tough question. I’m fairly sure I was already miserable by the time I started listening to pop music, because I didn’t start listening to pop music until at least sixth grade and I was a walking gloombunny by then.

Did the music make it worse?

Probably not. I usually feel better after listening to depressing music, such as Possession, Wish You Were Here, the Albinoni Adagio, Back to Black, One, or Dead and Lovely. The best ones tell a story, and no matter how bad things are, it’s pretty much definitely not as bad as they are in the song. Which is actually a mood-lifter.

When I’m feeling sluggish I put on Bittersweet or the Go-Gos, or something like that. They usually perk me right up, being the musical equivalent of a shot of espresso.

Am I miserable because I listen to pop music?

Nah.

Singing the Liturgy

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I found out something impressive about my editor this morning.

He is a liturgist at his church.

This didn’t really surprise me, since he has a pretty good voice, but what did surprise me is that he actually does sing the liturgy. I told him I thought that was pretty brave, and he seemed surprised, like he thought it wasn’t really that big of a deal.

I don’t get stage fright, and I love public speaking, but I do not like singing alone or in a very small group in public, because I know my voice is not good.

Doing the liturgy in particular is very hard for a couple reasons: first, it’s usually sung at least partly without accompaniment, meaning that you have to be able to stay on key all by yourself; second, almost everyone knows how it’s supposed to sound, so you can’t just make something up and pretend like that’s the way it’s supposed to be; and third, churches often have a big crowd, and though friendly, it can be scary to try to sing in front of your friends, family, old teachers, and random people who know you.

In short: If you know someone who sings the liturgy in your church, take a minute to thank them for their bravery, skill or talent.

Put a Spork In It!

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Today I was accused of making up the word spork.

Naturally, I was quite surprised, and responded that the word "spork," meaning the combination between a fork and a spoon, had existed before I ever did.

But in fact, the word "spork" has been around for a great deal longer than I have. The objects have been around since the late 1800s, and the word appeared in a 1909 dictionary supplement. Sporks are also known as "foons," and both terms come from the combined words "fork" and "spoon," merely in opposite directions, so to speak. (Wikipedia)

I wish I could make up a word as popular as spork.

Alas, my words don’t seem to catch on quite as well. My beloved "predantious," a combination of pompous, pretentious and pedantic, which means "pompous, pretentious and pedantic," never got any play.

Here are a few that I didn’t make up: knork, spife, and splayd.

Yeah, I never heard of ‘em either.

Floating in Nothingness Forever

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Today when I went swimming at the YMCA the music wasn’t on, at least for the first 20 or so minutes I was there.

For most people, that probably wouldn’t be a problem, but for me it caused a bit of concern.

I liked it, at first, because it was terribly peaceful just hearing the splish, sploosh, splish, sploosh as the 3-4 swimmers paddled, swam or bounced (I believe he’s doing physical therapy or else water aerobics) back and forth.

The problem is me, or more specifically, my defective, misshapen eyeballs.

As you all know, I can’t see the hands on the clocks at the Y without my glasses on, and of course I don’t swim with my glasses on. The music (some of which I like, some of which I really dislike) helps give me an idea of how long I’ve been swimming so that I don’t have to get out of the pool, retrieve the glasses and check the time.

Without the music, I felt like I could have gone on swimming forever, or at least until the Y kicked me out of the pool. Again, not really a problem, but I have to go back to work at some point or my boss will get really annoyed. Somehow I seriously doubt "But they didn’t have music on at the Y!" is a good excuse for missing work.

But then someone turned on the music (Bryan Adams’s "Everything I Do") and I squinted up at the clock to find out how long it had been, and guessed how long I had left, and finished out the song and got my chlorine and tangerine (shampoo) scented self back to work.

Also, I discovered today that I could adjust the nose strap on my goggles to make them fit better.

Yes, it took me that long, but don’t laugh too hard–remember that I don’t look at the goggles except when my glasses are off, and of course when my glasses are off I’m lucky if I can put the goggles on at all without hurting myself. Also, I lost my first pair of cheap goggles not that long ago, so I haven’t had these for very long.

So my face isn’t as incorrectly shaped as I had feared, and my goggles (slightly more expensive than the first pair, but vastly superior, purchased from Center Sports) are much better than I thought.