An Account of the Recent Past

How 'bout a big, ol' wide-tongued full lick of the pig?

In which we briefly explore† Dr. Doom Turns 6,% Lake McConaughy,‡ the Colorado Renaissance Festival§ and Lakeside Amusement Park.¶

Dr. Doom's 6th birthday was animal-themed and included a visit from the Jungle Lady and her many reptiles, amphibians and bugs.

There was a snake cake.




A rubber gift snake for the birthday boy...




...which maybe should have been presented at the end of the show for minimal distraction.

Anyway, there was snake discussion.




And snake jewelry, both in the form of a Scarlet Kingsnake bracelet...




...and a python necklace.




I don't know about you, but I would never want to subject a snake to a passel of six-year-olds. Six is a... squirrely age. Though it was worth the price of admission for this exchange:

"My brother found a snake when he was camping and he caught it and he brought it home and now he has, like, six snakes."

"My brother is in jail."

The turtle races were pretty good too.




[SUMMARY: And a good time was had by all... except maybe the snakes.]

The annual trip to The Lake included a record 757,000 kids this year...




...but that didn't stop me from crossing "skinny dipping" off my bucket list.

As has become tradition,†† Shanny and I stayed up late one night at the campfire chatting, stargazing and exploring the funky, soulful world of Shanny's massive music collection.

Just after the moon dipped below the southeastern horizon, Shanny said, "I don't want to freak you out or anything, but it's a beautiful night, the weather's perfect, the moon's gone down and there's nobody around. You want to try skinny dipping?"

There we were, neck-deep in water, looking at the rural sky coated in a crust of stars. The water was cool, but not chill. Nothing nibbled at protruberances. The small-town tide lapped at our every nerve ending. We chatted, then wrapped up and got warm by the fire.

The next morning, Connie greeted me with, "I understand you got naked with my husband last night." And she giggled.

I love my friends.

Other than that, there was the usual water, sky, recreation...




Well, the Wave Runner was new this year.

But there was the usual floatilla of shiny plastic inflatables.




And the campfire.




In scientific news, The Lake was up 27 feet from where it was last year when we were there - at 96% capacity.‡‡




There wasn't a lot of beach to go around and we teamed up with a group of campers to hold our grove...






...which was under surveillance from the myriad campers who didn't come in on Thursday and maybe never found a spot to pitch their tents.§§

But, like the steadfast dragonflies,@ we held our space for the weekend.




Until it was time to say goodbye for another year.




[SUMMARY: A good time was had by all.]

Steve isn't skydiving this summer, so he has a mess of time to do other things. Under the auspices of "I haven't been to the Renaissance Festival in twenty years or more," we decided to go to the Renaissance Festival.¶¶

My how things have changed. Like Times Square, Disney has had its influence. Y'all know I've got nothing against pirates, but a good quarter of the faire now seems to be devoted to Captain Jack Sparrow.

There are no wenches, those dingy, corseted broads who kissed men with overpainted lips of crimson, neon pink and orange for a dollar. All in all, the thing where absolutely everybody is trying some gimmick to get a buck is gone.

On the bright side, there were greyhounds and ducks and the cutest little piggle## you ever did see. And a spiffy carillon.




On the other hand, a museum of medieval torture devices that was simply awful. And not for the torture.

Plus? A woman in full costume was brandished a frickin' Twilight umbrella and talking on her cell phone when the rain started. That's so not 15th century.




We decided we don't need a Renaissance Festival fix for another 20 years.

[SUMMARY: Disney should stick with movies.]

Steve and I also visited Lakeside Amusement Park.

Back in the day, Steve an I both worked at the historic Elitch Gardens,††† which was only blocks from Lakeside. From the top of the Twister at Elitch's, you could see the Vegas lights of the entry tower at Lakeside.

Now, Elitch's was classier. It maybe had better rides. And it was neater, more prone to fresh paint and never a lightbulb out of place. But Lakeside had seedy charm. There was a Fun House and far fewer families went after dark. It was a brilliant hub of overdressed late-teen and twenty-something single life.

Back in the day.

Now the Fun House is gone, possibly a victim of insurance regulations.‡‡‡ Every third ride was deconstructed or closed for repair.




Though the park was supposed to open at 6:00, there wasn't the slightest movement to test the rides, set up the ticket booths, start the hot dogs a-grillin'... it was an employee ghost town until nearly 6:30. At that time, four rides were running.

As the night went on, more rides opened - the ones that weren't under repair or chopped for parts - probably to save on payroll.§§§






The Wildcat coaster was fun and the Zoom was great fun.¶¶¶

But we left at 9:30, having ridden everything but the Merry-Go-Round, and agreed that we could go another 20 years without going to Lakeside.

[SUMMARY: We are crossing things OFF the list, Steve and I.]

That's how I spent my summer vacation.

Coming soon... current events. Like tomatoes. And knitting.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Through words, pictures and footnotes, and mostly as an exercise in cleaning off my camera.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): In April.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Nudity! Alcohol! Adult situations!

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): The only place besides Steve's living room where anyone has understood my rock-paper-scissors-lizard-spock shirt.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Seedier than field full of wheat, sadder than a lost puppy.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Except that year we didn't.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Up from 54% the previous year.

§§FOOTNOTE (a twisty, windy road): Heh. Twelve.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): Of which there may been more of even than children.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (two left feet): As a tiny, geeky confession, I worked at the Renaissance Festival in the summer of 1986. It's what you do if you're a theatre major with a Dungeons & Dragons past.

##FOOTNOTE (tic tac): So cute he made me baby talk. And I usually only do that ironically. Hey! Ironic Babytalk would be a great name for a band.

†††FOOTNOTE (my cross to bear): NOT to be confused with the travesty that is Six Flags Elitch Gardens, and current home (right across the street from the theatre) of your dear ol' AntiM - I live where (I say) the floral clock used to be. Steve says it was the administration building. Until we have pictures, I'm sticking with "floral clock."

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (old fashioned wooden coaster tracks): Steve thinks maybe an ADA thing, though he kept saying "ADD," which I thought was funny.

§§§FOOTNOTE (a shocking turn of events): Steve thinks maybe more because the employees straggle in, hungover, whenever they straggle in.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (upright brigade): Which is a skyshot like the one on top of the Stratosphere in Vegas, with a slow lift followed by a free-fall. I couldn't help point out (because I'm twelve) that it looked like a giant, colour-changing penis against the dusky sky, to which Steve added the image of a cock ring carrying people up and down it. Quite ruined the ride for Steve.

Riding the Coattails

It's kinda hot and I'm doing the blog equivalent of sprawling on a hammock and letting someone fan me with palm fronds.

Look what Donna found.

And, y'know... she's a hell of a hammock fanner.

1. Lick the Pig 2. Squee

Rinse. Repeat.

CHICKENS!

We haven't visited the concept of CHICKENS! in quite some time.

Hell, we haven't really had that many blogposts in quite some time. Let's remedy that now, shall we?

[SUMMARY: And by "we," I mean, "I."]

From 5280.com:

Checkin' on Them Chicks in Fort Collins

Across the nation, more than 30 cities passed ordinances that make it legal for people to keep chickens in their backyards, including Fort Collins, where one year later all the squawking over whether to pass the new law has settled into a soft, but distinct, clucking sound. Thirty-six households have since acquired chicken licenses and are apparently farming their own super-fresh eggs. And just six of the more than 14,300 calls animal-control officers received involved chickens. "Not much has happened," Bill Porter, director of animal control with the Larimer Humane Society, tells 9News . Four roosters in town upset neighbors, but those were "accidents," Porter tells the Fort Collins Coloradoan, saying the owners "thought they were buying hens as chicks only to discover they were roosters." The ordinance allows residents to keep up to six hens, regulates coops, and prohibits slaughter. Susan Orlean recently wrote about the history of chicken farming and its revival for The New Yorker (subscription required), which features video of the author with her chickens online. Orlean also took some time to answer reader questions via chat. --MdY

[SUMMARY: Hens are a peaceful lot. Roosters, not so much. There may be a lesson in this.]

From Savage Chickens:

Email chickens...




Pirate Star Wars chickens†...




Chicken moustache competition‡...




From the next block over§, as caught by my camera phone¶:




[SUMMARY: You might say we just licked the chicken#.]


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): How much geekier? None. None more geekier.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Kim, you'll be happy to know that, while Sam Elliot may not have won a Knitters' Hunk competition in recent memory, he did win the Chicken Moustache Tournament.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Where the not-evil step-brother and step-sister-in-law live with most pudgy-cute step-nephew, Noah (pictured here, resplendent in chicken regalia).

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Shakily.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Ooooh... I think we're on to something. Who needs a turducken when you can have a chickpigen?

A Half-Hearted, Time-Saving Lick of the Pig

I know, but...




[SUMMARY: Defensive much?]

These days, I don't write blogs.† I barely read blogs.‡ In this economy,§ one must do everything in one's power to stay in the good graces of those willing to pay one.

Translation: Deadlines loom. Free time is short. Can't screw around.%

[SUMMARY: Excuses, excuses.]

I do have a couple of juicy tidbits I want to share, just to let you know I'm still out here somewhere and well, because they're funny or interesting.

Sarah, you're going to want to cover your eyes when we get to "interesting."

[SUMMARY: In the eye of the beholder, my friends, in the eye of the beholder.]

So on the funny front, a follow-up to the Lady Gaga fashion debacle of July 2009:




DON'T LOOK, SARAH! GO FIND A NICE CUPCAKE OR A PUPPY OR A FLUFFY CLOUD OR SOMETHING TO OCCUPY YOUR EYES!

And something I find interesting, courtesy of Kathy-now-Kathryn¶:




Meet Heteropoda davidbowie.

Yep. You read that right. David Bowie gets his own spider. Be it Martian or Glass, it seems somehow glam-appropriate... if a little scary.

[SUMMARY: All day long, my head will be shrieking, "...but where are the spiders?"]

And, since I put it together last week, I can throw this in and complete my tour of the Six Scents line... just in time for the release of Six Scents, part II#, due in October.††

*************

No. 6: Teen Spirit - Preen & Mark Buxton (Part 6 in the series)

Marin says: Bergamot.$ Definitely bergamot. Or maybe lemon of the verbena variety. It's thin and high and sour-citrusy... and as I found out later, may be the most interesting portion of the trip for me.

When the citrus starts fading, a touch of rose$ peeks through. It's very watery, both in that "barely there" sense and in that it smells like rain.$ Once the bergamot is completely gone and the sharper parts of the rose round out, it becomes a round, powdery floral, no particular rose in sight.

I think the "teen spirit" moniker is apt; this reminds me very much of something one gets at Walgreen's when one is a 16 year old girl. Love's Baby Soft. Something attributable to Brittney Spears.@ It goes distinctly soapy (must be musk$) late in the game.

Meh.

Meh meh meh.

Six Scents says: "The idea we had with Preen, was to capture an English summer garden after the rain - light, natural, floral, fresh, but not sweet. Its sprakling top note, made of calabrain bergamot an a unique seashore accord‡‡ is wrapped with magnolia and Turkish rose. The tingling spicy scent of red pepper sustained by hazelnut leaf and rhubarb give the fragrance its natural depth.§§ Finally, a touch of violet wood for the long-lastingness and pleasurable feeling." - Mark Buxton, Perfumer

Ingredients: Hazelnut Leaf, Rhubarb, Bergamot, Seashore accord, Red Pepper, Berry Rose, Magnolia, Violet wood, Sandalwood, Musk.

Hans says: Ooooh, I like that. It smells like grapefruit rind. What do you call that? Zest. Grapefruit zest.¶¶


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): You may have noticed.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Mostly of the "funny cats" variety.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Oh, how I hate it when people use that phrase...

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Much.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Who has the most interesting Twitter list. I did eventually have to remove Courtney Love from my follow list because she's patently bugshit insane and completely misses the seminal point of Twitter, which is its brevity, by posting roughly 20,000 words a day, 140 words at a time.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Electric Boogaloo.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I can hear you cringing from here, Nathan.

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): I'm not as proud of myself as I usually am. Picking out orange and rose seems a scant talent.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): Before her particular bugshit slut phase -- back in the Disney "I'm still a virgin" pink poofy feather ponytail days.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I'm officially a perfume snob. I completely dismissed this whole scent as soon as I saw the cutesy marketing ploy "seashore accord." Good thing I didn't really like the scent to begin with or I'd be torn by hypocrisy and existential angst.

§§FOOTNOTE (shaking my head, waggling my finger): If I had detected any of anything in this whole sentence, I may have been able to find something other than "meh" to say about it. Everything in this sentence sounds delightful.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (heads up!): Hans only got the first whiff. I should've made him hang out for the powdery part.

Tuesday, Tuesday... la laa la l-la laaaaaa

I played hooky yesterday. It was marvelous.

For some reason, sitting around knitting and reading and communing with the North 40 is just so much better when I realise Hans is in the office working.

*************

You know what those 13 little stars mean... we're going to lick the pig!

*************

This is not my story to tell, but I feel I must relate it anyway.† Many of you don't know Mary Beth and most of you weren't there when she was telling it. I feel I would be remiss if I didn't spread the word.

Wherever you live, there's a good chance the question of urban chicken coops has come up recently. I thought it was that way in Denver because of recent changes to city ordinances, but it turns out it's just part of this big push toward organic self-sufficiency.

Anyway, Mary Beth is going to raise chickens. Which takes a lot of paperwork and governmental meddling.

First, she had to be issued the application from Community Planning and Development and Neighborhood Inspection Services. The completed application was then filed with Animal Control.

Somewhere in here, she bult a chicken coop which apparently rivals the Ritz Carlton and Mary Beth wants to move into it herself and maybe let the chickens have the run of her house.

Animal Control did a home visit to see that the chickens would be clean, comfortable and pest-free. She was approved for six chickens, a feat only slightly less bureaucratically arduous than fostering a human child.

THEN she paid $50 for a chicken permit.‡

Finally, she ordered -- I love this part -- an assortment of chicks.% Which come by post. From mypetchicken.com.

Getting on the Internet and ordering the six chicken assortment and "mypetchicken-dot-com" made me so happy. Some days, just knowing things *exist* out there is totally happy-making.

*************

You will all be delighted to know the sleeves of the guitar sweater for TFN's birthday are on their holders§ and I'm roaring down the sweater body with speed and something approaching accuracy.

Intarsia also makes me happy.¶ Frankly, I'm usually not that big on the look of a lot of it, but it's engaging knitting, the kind where time flies.

*************

I'm beginning to think the new Big Girl Phone may be too much phone for me.

I'm wondering if I want to be *that* connected. Ah, well. I signed a contract. I'll live with it for a couple of years and probably become one of those asshole people who can't leave her phone alone for two minutes and insists on texting at her own wedding.#

It does take nice pictures, doesn't it?

*************

My father is getting married August 22nd. I am in charge of two things: the music for the wedding itself†† and the food‡‡ for the "bachelor party"§§ the night before.

I'm kinda hoping I get some ripe tomatoes from my garden before then.¶¶

*************

Speaking of gardening, did you know cucumbers don't put out big root systems? They have to be watered more frequently than, say, tomatoes or peppers because they won't go looking for the water, you have to take the water to them.##

This was a lesson hard-learned. I lost many baby cucumbers††† before I read that particular bit of cucumber wisdom.

*************

[SARAH! DON'T LOOK! AVERT YOUR EYES!]

Hammacher-Schlemmer apparently heard from my nephews about my spider preferences. They sent me an email about this today.




I'm assuming Batman is posing under the spider arbour rather than Spiderman because he's better colour-coordinated...?

*************

No. 4: Diagonal - Gareth Pugh & Emilie Coppermann (Part 4 in the series)@

Marin says: Dill! Seconds of dill, then off to a very close-to-the-skin, very warm woody scent that could be a spice or richer floral tempered by a delicate amber. I certainly like it, which is good since nobody else is likely to know it's there.

For the record, I put this on mid-afternoon and the next morning I still had a very steady amber/musk finish clinging to my wrists. This would be great for long meeting days when I don't necessarily want to be remembered for my perfume, but I may still need surreptitious sniff during water breaks to boost morale.

Six Scents says: "Contrast, ambiguity, duality. Gareth Pugh said about his style: "it's a struggle between lightness and darkness." this is what I tried to translate in this perfume. The contrast between different raw materials, masculine and feminine, rough and smooth, dark and light, fresh and sensual." - Emilie Coppermann, Perfumer

Ingredients: Dill,$ Black Pepper, Nutmeg, Palissander, Black Tea, Amyris, White Amber,$ Musk.$

Hans says: Well, now, that smells like some kind of food. Mushroom? Fried mushroom? Actually, it doesn't smell like mushroom at all, but I'm sticking with it.

*************

Speaking of Hans, he went to his college roommate's wedding this weekend. The photographer had a ring of lights thing set up, so the wedding guests took turns seeing who could take the best cheesy prom photo.



I believe Hans and Trav‡‡‡ win.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): If nothing else, it's the foundation for this whole pig-licking and I couldn't very well leave it out.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Annual. $50 a year for a chicken permit. You have to pay $50 every year for your chicken permit. By "you," I mean, "Mary Beth." I just love saying "chicken permit."

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Apparently, chicks can live without food through the first 72 hours after they hatch so they can be packed up in boxes and mailed.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): In the grand tradition of circus knitting, I am going to attempt to knit both sleeves at once on two circular needles, in situ. I see no reason it can't be done. Speaking of circus knitting, did you see some guy at Sock Summit was knitting seven pairs at once? Hmph. Been there, done that -- way ahead of you, big guy. I guess if SOME OF US had just gutted up and gone to Sock Summit, we could be famous for our Xtreme Knitting too.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And intarsia in the round makes me feel like a superhero.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): This is not an immediate danger, just an example.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): The temptation to abuse this power is fierce. I could do two hours of very pointed songs. I won't, of course... the Electric Slide will almost undoubtedly feature, but I *could* propagandise.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I'm thinking a couple of homemade pizzas, a big ol' salad, some finger food in case a poker game breaks out and a cherry pie made from cherries I picked myself. Hi! Remember me? Susie F. Homemaker?

§§FOOTNOTE (backhanded bachelor party): In quotes because, as Brother said, "You have to have some kind of activity, but clearly we won't be making the bachelor do shots of Jager until he barfs, and the standard substitutes (like paintball) probably won't work..." There will, of course, be no naked girls. Or boys. Or porn of any kind. So it's not so much a bachelor party as a "get Dad from underfoot so the evil stepsister doesn't kill him before the wedding" gig.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (round, ripe tomatoes on the vine): Not quite so much because I'm looking for quality ingredients as I'd like to show off.

##FOOTNOTE (cucumber trellis): Thank you, Dr. Science!

†††FOOTNOTE (stake the cucumbers!): Very sad -- they go dark brown and crispy.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): You should go check out Nathan's pictures of the packaging. Kinda freaky, in a skully-good sort of way.

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): And if I weren't so lazy at the moment, I'd Google "palissander" to see if it might qualify as "woody."

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (long and winding road): Trav is a friend of the groom's from out of town. Hans found him delightful.

.-.. .. -.-. -.- - .... . .--. .. --. †

Lest you think I never think of knitting anymore, I am in the process of graphing the Bat Conservation International logo for a nifty tam o' shanter.




And later this week, I'll post pictures of the pair of socks I finished a month ago.




And, FSM willing, the sparkly scarf I'm making from Nathan's brilliant stash contribution.‡

[SUMMARY: I'll keep you coming back for more!]

Meanwhile, I shall share some funny bits lurking in my files.

Like Tippi Hedren in marshmallows§:




And, of course, stupid sparkly vampire snark:




And a whole collection of Savage Chickens that made me snarf%:








Speaking of chicken, I started my birthday with chicken 'n' waffles, a taste treat much lauded by Snoop Dogg, so I felt I had to try it.¶

I am currently developing recipes to make chicken 'n' waffles not quite so much heart-attack-waiting-to-happen.# It's really all about the tobasco and maple syrup, so fat content should be negotiable.

More birthday magic later this week too!

[SUMMARY: I took a couple of marketing classes in college.]

As long as we're talking about food, I just received word from Lucretia-once-Tia that I won a year's supply of Blue Bunny ice cream on a contest on her blog.

[SUMMARY: Don't stand near me. Lightning is about to strike.††]

Yep! It's a staccato blast of pig-licking today. Who knows what cohesiveness or cleverness tomorrow may bring?‡‡


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Genuine Morse Code! Fun for the whole family! Translation: Lick the pig.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): While I try not to go overboard with WIP pics, I think Nathan should see that his generous gift is going to good and glam use. And it will pad the blog the way only sparkly, sparkly pictures can.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Don't look, Jackson! And don't click the link!

%FOOTNOTE (percented): The last one is, of course, especially for Lyda.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I want to be Snoop Dogg when I grow up, with my mind on my money and my money on my mind.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I'm thinking non-fried fried chicken and Kashi toaster waffles.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I'd like to thank Juno for pointing out that, contrary to my grip on kharma, I will not be struck by lightning to balance out all the good stuff that's happening, but that there is special birthday kharma that allows good things without ass-biting returns.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Yeah, most of you can lay the odds on that, but you never know. I may experience a flash of brilliance.

There Is an Elephant in the Way

It's the moment you've been waiting for, the storm of the century, ladies and gentlemen, it's time to Lick the Pig!

Bet you never thought the day would come.†

[SUMMARY: Long time no lick.]

*************

We had a fire drill yesterday.‡

We filed in a calm and orderly manner down the stairs, then congregated in the parking lot kitty-corner from the office.§ Hans and I are fire buddies,‡ so we checked to be sure we were OK. The fire wardens for each floor wore their red Fire Warden hats‡ and checked us in on their fire warden clipboards. Then they let us back in the building.

Dude.

I've been four and I've been twelve...

[SUMMARY: I'm ten.]

*************

Speaking of school daze,¶ Brother sent me these:










Consensus is that the elephant is the funniest one.

While Brother thought the lack of humour on the part of the grading parties was noteworthy, I think "Very funny, Peter," made me laugh almost as hard as the funny Peter made to get that accolade.

[SUMMARY: Humour is subjective.]

*************

This morning, I got a parking space on the only street in downtown Denver with no meters and no time limits.#

I have a feeling I spent all my kharmic green stamps for the next three years to get that spot.

[SUMMARY: Kharma is subjective.]

*************

Did I mention I got Bronco season tickets over the weekend? Second-hardest-to-obtain season tix in the NFL?††

[SUMMARY: I may be in kharmic debt after that.]

*************

I took brother to see Leonard Cohen at Red Rocks last week.‡‡ If you get the chance, ya gotta see him. First, he has some of the best musicians I've ever seen/heard backing him up. Then, not only did he play for three-and-a-half hours, he skipped off the stage every time he left.

Skipped. A 74-year-old man.

And he's funny.

Great Leonard Cohen paraphrase:

"It’s been 14 or 15 years since I walked this stage. I was about 60 then, full of a young man’s dreams. I’ve taken a lot of Prozac since then. And Paxil, Wellbutrin,§§ Ritalin, Focalin… but I never took any of the little blue pills.

You see, I was deep in religious study at the time.

I didn’t know Prozac suppresses the libido.

I thought I had transcended desire."

[SUMMARY: Leonard Cohen would definitely understand Kharmic Green Stamps.]

*************

The tiny little Tomato Plant that Could gets stronger all the time.

Every day when I leave for work, I have separation anxiety because¶¶ I'm afraid a tornado will go through the alley or we'll have [more] hail and I'll come home to find it washed away.

[SUMMARY: Parenthood has its stresses.]

*************

Speaking of plants,¶ I planted the north forty this weekend and ended up with an honest-to-Jebus farmer's tan.

[SUMMARY: There's a little white trash in all of us.%]

*************

Speaking of weather,¶ with the current and recent levels of humidity in Denverish,## my hair has become large and unruly.

I give up. The hair is on its own.

In other weather news, I finally bought an umbrella, so it hasn't rained on my walks to and from the office in days.

[SUMMARY: This is me... this is the universe revolving around me...]

*************

And in the lick of a pig, I'm off.

*************

No. 2: Wicken 3000 - Bernhard Willhelm & Lucas Sieuzac for Six Scents (Part 2 in the series)†††

Marin says: Alcohol *flash!*

Aldehyde *flash!*

Soap *flash!*

A brief *flash!* that makes me want to quote Grains de Musc on Jean Claude Ellena,‡‡‡ then licorice and bay rum under heavy cloud cover.

This is so watery and close to the skin and disappears so fast -- even with three direct hits from the bottle.

It's inoffensive.

It's almost not there.

Six Scents says: "A light, fresh, clean scent that embodies a fusion of the elements. The idea was to create a perfume close to the elements of water and air,but with a futuristic approach.§§§ Express "the Back to nature" side of Bernhard with a pure & essential fragrance." - Lucas Sieuzac,

Perfumer Ingredients: Sea Breeze Accord, Bergamot, Water Jasmine, Sheer Musk.

Hans says: Whew! There's a lot of alcohol! It smells like a gin and tonic. It's definitely very light. I like it, but it's very... it smells like, um, summer mist off a... weeping willow.¶¶¶


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I may be overestimating your excitement over pig-licking.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Srsly.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Not the one I take pictures of all the time... the one across the street from that.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): We were.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I'm not telling you where.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): For those of you scoring at home, the Green Bay Packers are harder. heheheheheheheh

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Jealous? Oh, please be jealous.

§§FOOTNOTE (I'm just a little confused): sp?

¶¶FOOTNOTE (staked tomotoes): Because I'm a tomato dork.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Except maybe Nathan.

##FOOTNOTE (the pounding moist): Unheard of humidity! Humidity on a grand scale! A swamp's worth of humidity!

†††FOOTNOTE (tick tick tick): That sounds so 60 Minutes, doesn't it?

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (I tracked it down!): "...one of Jean Claude Ellena's many variations on the smell of water." And a big auxilliary slurp to Nathan for that quote.

§§§FOOTNOTE (triple take): Hey, that's what I said!

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (three pats for Hans): And this is why we continue to keep Hans around.

Kermie!

Here Now, the News

----- Forwarded Message -----
From: "Dad"
To: "Marin"
Sent: Friday, May 15, 2009 8:29:36 PM
Subject: Breaking news - Celebrity Swine Flu Fatality

I grieve with you....

Breaking news - Celebrity Swine Flu Fatality




And we all know who gave it to him…

To Lick or Not to Lick...

...that is the question;
Whether 'tis nobler in the teat to suffer
The flings and nuzzles of outrageous insemination,
Or to take to trotters against a sea of fondles,
And by opposing, end them.

You thought I was kidding about pig sex, didn't you?†

----- Original Message -----

From: Kim
To: Marin
Sent: Monday, May 11, 2009 4:01:11 PM
Subject: Thought of You‡

So, I'm reading Bonk, right? And I'm on the chapter about artificial insemination of pigs, right? (I'll save the discussion of "uterine upsuck" for another time.) And appears this paragraph:

[A] training video . . . includes a shot of a[n] inseminator lying on a sow, his chest pressed against back. With one hand, he reaches down beneath her to rub her mammaries and squeeze her teats. One of the less prominently known similarities between pigs and men: They both fondle breasts. No other animals on the planet do this.

Do with this what you will. No information is good or bad on its own; it's how we use it that makes the difference.

Kim


Ears... bleeding

Nose... glowing

Head... exploding

Like a geek in an Apple store,§ I don't know where to begin.

Do I go with the "men are pigs" angle? Do I go topical with a swine flu thing? Then there's the whole "lick the pig" schtick... surely I'd be remiss if I didn't give a nod to licking the pig. And don't get me started on why we haven't yet discussed "uterine upsuck".¶ Or how badly I need a copy of "Bonk."

So let me simply leave you with this thought:

Similarities between men# and pigs continue to pile up.†† Is it a conspiracy of the vast pork products industry that the clear fact that people are descended from pigs rather than chimpanzees has been buried for so long?

[SUMMARY: All my science comes from Mythbusters.]

Ay, there's the rub.‡‡


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I'm giving myself more credit for grace than I deserve. I'm sure when you read there was going to be pig sex in a later post, you yawned and got yourself another cup of coffee.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Kim and I could probably publish a book filled with our "Thought of You" emails. We think a lot of each other.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): "Kid in a candy store," too hackneyed. "Pardoned prisoner in a whorehouse," too on point.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Which, as Dave Barry says, would be an excellent name for a rock band.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And here I mean "mankind."

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Pigs are said to be clean and intelligent and solicitous of their young, but more importantly people apparently taste a lot like pork -- long pig : people :: veal : baby cows -- and any time the Mythbusters need a human body analog, they use a pig carcass.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): You can't imagine how impressed I am with my own use of Shakespeare today.

Don't Lick the Pig!

Oh, do click for big!

I Live to Serve

Another public service announcement, this one from Dr. Doom† via his mother:

As long as swine flu is a concern,‡ we should wash our hands after petting a pig.§


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Via his mother - at book club last night.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): We all agreed that *always* washing your hands after petting a pig, swine flu notwithstanding, might be a better credo.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): He said nothing at all about licking a pig.

Sometime You Lick the Pig, Sometimes the Pig Licks You

TTHFCIF




I think this is a really good way to start a Friday.

Plus?

I wouldn't have to come up with so many ways to say "and" if today wasn't such a cornucopia of wonderments.

Remember the Red River Hogs at the San Diego Zoo?

Now, for you blogspotting pleasure, the lickablest of lickable piglets:


{New Red River piglets at the Calgary Zoo via ZooBorns}


You really should click over to ZooBorns -- they have more pictures and video and these little guys look like pig-shaped chimpunks, which is totally worth a click of your time.

Colour Me Random

When last I cleaned off my camera, I had an unusually large collection of random shit.† Enough to make a whole blogpost. Enough, even, to proclaim a photojournalistic pig-licking.

[SUMMARY: My pig, my rules.]

NOTE: Click for big is your friend here in today's offering.

*************

Jack 'n' Grill on Federal has marvelous food. They also have the new‡ Wall of Jack§ and these Marin-friendly bathroom signs:



*************

Dad has cleaned out the tool annex¶ in the Peach's basement. There is a bank of very cool drawers, reminiscent of the days when libraries had card files.# One is now labeled, "Trowels, etc."



*************

Hans spotted this outfit from my window. We spent many, many company-sposored minutes trying to figure out what in the hell she was thinking††:



*************

This guy was working in our parking lot. He measured something. Then he sawed the end off that something. Then he made some notes. Then he put something else on his wheeled sawhorse and measured it. Then he cleaned up and left. I kinda wish I'd gotten a movie of it.

I'm guessing that at $8/day, this is the cheapest shop space in town.



*************

"Yellow squeeze bottle mustard" listed as an organic ingredient. So... specific:



*************

Before my break-up with Barnes & Noble,‡‡ I was perusing the knitting books at lunch one day and noted a new trend in the fibre arts§§:



*************

Two days snowed in, you'd think I'd be more ambitious.

[SUMMARY: Thinking never did anybody any good.]

Tomorrow? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps¶¶...

*************

Péché Cardinal - Amandine Marie for Parfums MDCI

Marin says: There is a moment when the juice first hits the skin when you@ usually get a completely different scent than you do even two seconds later. It's like the ghostly haze that hovers in the neck of a beer bottle right after you open it## -- there, then gone.

This one is pure Jolly Rancher in that moment: sugary, synthetic, recognisable for its candy version but nothing like the real thing.

You blink and it's different.

Then it's peach, bright and sun-drenched... then mixed with champagne, perhaps. It's bubbly and bright. After a bit, it smells like tuberose and peach with a touch of that tawny port smell I call raisin, but always ends up being plum.

Somewhere along the line, something very round, like amber, and something prickly and dry, like cedar, rein the tuberose in a bit and give it round depths and linear highs.†††

Luckyscent% says: Péché Cardinal is an enticing froth of sinful and sweet, blending luscious fruits and mesmerizingly heady white flowers into a siren song. Warm, rounded and alluring, this Bellini-esque$ scent opens with a juicy, light-hearted sweetness that belies its intoxicating nature. As it warms on the skin, it becomes boldly flirtatious— this is the perfect scent for the belle of the ball. Péché Cardinal (translation: Cardinal Sin‡‡‡) opens with the apricot-hay sweetness of davana combined with the silken fur of ripe golden peaches$ and creamy coconut. The tart fruitiness of blackcurrant and prune$ keep the fragrance from becoming too sweet, allowing the cool, fresh-from-the-flowershop tuberose$ to shine from the heart of the composition. White lilies add an additional, slightly green aspect to the scent. The cedar,$ sandalwood and musc provide a quiet contrapunto§§§ to the fruits. An unabashedly romantic fragrance for those daring enough to wear it

Hans says: Bubble gum. Do you get bubble gum? Definitely something sweet. I don't know. Tell them my nose muscles are tired.¶¶¶

Later, after that syrupy opening, Hans identified fruit, something he should know, and got very excited when I told him it was peach because that was what he was reaching for.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Even for me.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Since the last time I was there, which may have been a year ago.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Too big to take a picture of, but had a jackalope, a box of Apple Jacks, Jack Kerouac... from table top to ceiling. Cooler than it sounds, trust me.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Seriously, it's a big house. Plenty big to have a tool annex. And a drawer devoted to trowels.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Remember the days, Sarah, Susie? Good times, good times...

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Please note that I do not deride the red/turquoise/brown cowboy boots in and of themselves, but the mind that paired them with black leggings and a purple/blue sweater. And there's something... off about matching one's earrings to one's boots. Like matching one's lipstick to one's nail polish. Just... too.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): And it's a shame the relationship was over before I could get a picture of the end cap full of owl tchotchkes labeled "penguins."

§§FOOTNOTE (kama sutra position #43): I saw the fetish book and thought it might actually be a knitting book, naughty or just indicative of the mania of knitting. Then I saw the Kama Sutra and I realised yet another knitter had abandoned sex in favour of socks.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (marching band style!): If I have to hear that song all day in my head, you have to hear that song all day in your head.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): As always, when I say, "you," I mean "I."

##FOOTNOTE (the pounding of palm to forehead): About the time I finished typing the beer bottle analogy, I realised a shooting star would work just as well and probably be more elegant. Then I decided I don't want to get *too* elegant. I'd never be able to live up to it, long term.

†††FOOTNOTE (is it Easter yet?): I am getting so good at this review-speak.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): The Parfums MDCI site doesn't have any words on Péché Cardinal that I could find. Normally, I would quote them and use this footnote to tell you what a wondeful, warm, gentlemanly man Claude Marchal (the owner of MDCI) is, but since I couldn't hook that all up like I wanted, I'm just going to hijack the footnote for my own purposes. Why are the French so vilifiable as a group, but so lovely individually?

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): You know that if I thought "raisin" was close enough to plum, I will argue that "prune" is that much closer.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (all roads lead to Paris): This is also apparently a pun of sorts, as Peche without accents, or with different accents or perhaps without the "e" on the end means "peach tree." And this is a peach fragrance, so... pun.

§§§FOOTNOTE (nothing spins me like a good word): I love "contrapunto." You don't get nearly enough contrapunto in daily life. I plan to work contrapunto in to my everyday conversation.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (your head, it goes *beatbeatbeat*when your nose muscles are tired): Hans played many hours of beach volleyball yesterday and maintains that *all* his muscles are tired.