Monthly Archives: April 2007

ashes to dust, dust to bushes…

something like that, anyway.

There was a dead bird in our front yard today. We decided the best thing would be to put it into the woods across the street from our house, and Ignatz volunteered to take care of it. I got him the shovel and stood ready to assist if necessary. I thought he would carry it sedately over the road and deposit it gently in the ivy, respect for the dead and all that, but no. He gave the shovel a mighty heave, and FWING! the bird carcass made a high and completely undignified arc across the road, and FWUMP! disappeared into the foliage.

Ignatz bowed his head and put his hand on his heart for a moment, and that was the end of it.

You know, my mom always said that babies are cute and all, but the real fun comes when they hit 12 or so. I begin to see what she meant.

Song du jour of the day: I Can’t Wait, by Stevie Nicks.


Happy spring

Well, Laura‘s handing out lilies-of-the-valley for May Day, so I thought I’d wave my favorite flower around too: have some lilacs for the last day of April.
lilacs

Song du jour of the day: Good Day Sunshine, by the Beatles


TIME for mixmania!

Two days late! How’s that for theme-appropriate? I should just pretend I did that on purpose, to get you thinking about the importance of time, viz. how annoying it is that I haven’t posted my songlist yet. But no, this blog is not for lying. I don’t tell you everything, but I don’t tell you anything that doesn’t at least seem true while I’m writing it.

So, time. For me it means change, whether personal or social, so it’s kind of about history, one way or another. That’s what I kept in mind while cutting my giant songlist down to the size of one CD. A lot of them turned out to be about hope or nostalgia or sorrow. Let’s see what we ended up with.
Continue reading


what it’s like

I went to bed thinking about Magazine Man and his family, and woke up thinking about them. This is such a hard thing to go through.

The numb, I remember the numb. And the bewildered, don’t know what to do while you wait for the weight of all that grief and loss to come down on you like a ton of bricks. It’s hard to breathe deeply, you keep forgetting what you came upstairs for, you run out of thought before you can finish the sentence. Continue reading


sorry darlings

I know I have to get my mixmania list up, plus some knitting progress, and I will very soon, but I’m up to my ears in this translation (and some related miffed-ness at Mr. Husband), and grieving for Magazine Man and his family, who suffered a dreadful loss the day before yesterday. Please send some prayers their way, if you got’em.

Song du jour of the day: Forever Young, by Alphaville. The saddest song I know.


thanks, honey

The Scene: alala, trying to get dressed for her office job.

alala: *deep, tragic sigh*
drbob: what?
alala: I don’t have anything to wear.
drbob: don’t wear anything, then


um, hi!

I got a new job today. Just a small one with a magazine, two tuesdays a month at an office plus occasional translations at home. They gave me three things to translate right away, so that’s what I’ll be doing with my weekend.

I’ll try to throw in a knitting post when… when it looks like I will probably manage to get all three translations done by Sunday evening.

Song du jour of the day: Don’t Dream It’s Over, by Crowded House


a decision on the London job

zen leap


more on that

Two responses I wanted to get up, but didn’t get around to, on the defensive-moi post: Amy, you are my homeschooling hero, and if we ever move to Rhode Island, I am totally sending my kids to your house for school (be afraid. Be very afraid). But like First Nations, there is no way I could teach them myself. Partly, but not primarily, because it’s not legal here – Bavaria usually leads the nation in school-test-whatever, so you’ll never, ever convince them that anything could be better for a child than their public schools – but mostly because I. Can’t. Teach. Them. Anything. Firstborn is way too much like me, Secondborn is way too much like his father, I am way too much like Hammy the Squirrel.

Hey, even a Superstar has to know her limitations. Continue reading


on autism

Firstly, if you have a moment, watch this video. Doing so will generate 49 cents toward autism research. H/T Kelly.

Then, if you’re interested, check out this article from Wired. I’ll warn you, it’s long. But it addresses a theory I’ve held for quite some time, and I found it very interesting. H/T Chris.

Fascinating. Tragic.