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Politics in the morning--guns

If you would like a nice dose of heartbreak and rage this morning...


Since my kids left for school I have worried about a shooter. College looming up does not relieve my worries. I have also asked parents about house guns before little kid playdates. Questions were not always welcome. Probably you outside US have not had this level of worry.

I had a childhood friend die by playing with a loaded gun he found. I have had my son come home from a playdate to report a loaded gun in other kids room. And, as I have said before, I was shot myself.

I have watched otherwise acceptable candidates cave in over and over to the NRA... I am so angry, so tired, so afraid.


Here are the mittens I made.ipyejp

Mittens and minor injuries

Making food tonight, simple roast, baked bread pudding, baked apples, and veggies.

I have made all these things countless times before-- in at least 10 different kitchens. But NYC kitchens are miserable places to work. Mine particularly so. You are supposed to be a cool person with a cool life where you mostly eat delivery food. Perhaps you reheat it sometimes. You are not supposed to actually cook.

I have never claimed to be cool.

My stove still has no knobs, but we do well enough. I know the oven now, it runs slight fast. Twisting the metal stalk to the halfway gives me about 350. More irritating is the fact I only have one oven rack.

And the oven itself is awkward to use. I have burn scars all down one arm from trying to get things out of it.

Tonight I managed to both cut and burn my hand. Now that I have everything safely in, I have bandaid and ice going, waiting on naproxen to kick in.

We never did get the hurricane (no shipworms either,) instead the weather has gone warm, and everything is washed with slow yellow light. It is very pretty.

I spent the rainy days knitting myself a pair of mittens. They came out well. And I am thinking that if I made them myself perhaps I will be less likely to loose them!

When I was a little girl there was an old woman who gave me red wool mittens every year at Christmas. Her father had had been attached to the Charles W Morgan, which is a wooden whale ship at Mystic now. (A famous ship you can look up if you like,)The old woman is long gone. Mittens make me think of her.

Silly question of the night

Would you guys rather massage an opossum or be massaged with one?

Computer and storm

I have a new computer! It is fast and fancy and it was a gift from Z who built it himself. Not sure where he learned to do that, but it will be ours to keep when he leaves us.

And it hangs from the ceiling. He wanted to experiment with not having a case. It ended up like a sort of industrial art installation. The strings remind me of ships rigging. They fall naturally into triangles and straight lines. Sailing rigging is considered pretty now, but it was not art at the time but industry.
Also this makes for a free and empty desk, except for the keyboard. It won't stay empty for long. Desks don't, do they? But for now it feels spacious.

In other news, we are expecting a hurricane. It may not come, but we are going to move the car to some high ground in case. If we loose power we have plenty to eat and drink.
The freezer is full enough to keep itself cold if we don't open the door much. The only thing we will def loose is two gallons of ice cream. We may have to call all hands to turn to with that. Maybe neighbors can help.

I will post pictures in a bit, I can't from my phone.

To Absent Friends

Title: To Absent Friends
author Egantine_br
Word Count 850
Rating PG

“What did Cleveland want?”

Horatio let the question pounce the moment the door shut. He had been twitching with curiosity, even as Archie paid for the wine and the room. Now he was asking directly, his voice muffled and his arms extended as he struggled free of his shirt.

Read more...Collapse )

Two coconuts and a bike

Hey guys, I am posting from my phone. We are having internet trouble.

I am still here, things have been busy in an especially stupid and irritating way here lately.

But I am seeing the end of it now-- the next months should be more serene.

I have even got a little bit of writing to put up, maybe tonight. Son has to help me. He is the only one who can put me online using the Gilligan's Island system we have at the moment. (Picture a laptop,an extra monitor, two coconuts and a bicycle, you would not be far wrong.)

Hope you are all well out there.

Sep. 20th, 2015

I hope it begins to ease, and slowly get better. I will be thinking of you.

Sep. 19th, 2015

I think I can hear you from here.... Looks like the best kind of fun!

Makes me feel terribly old

It is the fall in the air, the slant of the light. It is  golden here now, not sharp and blue the way that summer was. It still very warm out, but different somehow. I had the AC on in the car because it had been on all summer and daughter said 'Mom I know you are, like, menapausee or whatever, but I think we could just open the windows now.' She was right.

I feel a lttle like the opening passage of Moby Dick, not ready quite yet to knock hats off in the street, not yet, but the restlessness itches under my sternum, and I am thinking of the past. Long past I mean, people that I knew when I was a kid, or away at school. I google search shows me their faces, not terribly changed, still clearly the same people. Time has had a way with them too though.

Some people, however, are shockingly young. I wrote today to my local congressman, to see if he could help with the Nonorable disaster. The guy who holds my district is Hakeem Jeffries, who was born in 1970! I remember 1970. I was in first grade in 1970. It is weird enough that I could have been in high school with Obama. (If he had been in Ma.) It is weird enough that doctors and cops all seem to suddenly be younger than me. I suppose I will get used to it. If Mr Jeffries helps us I will be tremendously grateful. A google search shows me a man I will not have to feel conflicted about remaining grateful to.

Claire is back to school, out of the house every morning by 7. Mike is gone even earlier, the trip to the Bronx is a long one. I am sure he sleeps on the subway. Sailors can sleep anywhere, and under any conditions. He can sleep sitting, standing, while getting a tooth out, or inside a working engine. He can actually sleep while walking. I have seen him do it, so a warm dry quiet subway train is nothing.