Via Making Light:
Christian yahoos drive Jewish family out of southern Delaware
Mrs. Dobrich, who is Orthodox, said that when she was a girl, Christians here had treated her faith with respectful interest. Now, she said, her son was ridiculed in school for wearing his yarmulke. She described a classmate of his drawing a picture of a pathway to heaven for everyone except "Alex the Jew."Mrs. Dobrich's decision to leave her hometown and seek legal help came after a school board meeting in August 2004 on the issue of prayer. [...] A homemaker active in her children's schools, Mrs. Dobrich said she had asked the board to develop policies that would leave no one feeling excluded because of faith. People booed and rattled signs that read "Jesus Saves," she recalled. Her son had written a short statement, but he felt so intimidated that his sister read it for him. In his statement, Alex, who was 11 then, said: "I feel bad when kids in my class call me 'Jew boy.' I do not want to move away from the house I have lived in forever."
Later, another speaker turned to Mrs. Dobrich and said, according to several witnesses, "If you want people to stop calling him 'Jew boy,' you tell him to give his heart to Jesus."
Immediately afterward, the Dobriches got threatening phone calls.
As of my return last night, we have at least two live fish in the pond. This makes me quite happy, however minor a thing it may be.
I'm sad to report that Russ Ellis lost his mother on Monday. The visitation was last night, and the funeral today. I won't give out contact info, but if anyone's finding this out for the first time, drop a line or a call on Russ and Heidi.
I had the good fortune to know Mrs. Ellis, however briefly, and she was an incredible woman who passed on her kind and gentle nature to her sons and daughter. She will be greatly missed, especially by her husband of fifty-four years.
Much love to all the Ellises near and far.
First off, I'd like to say a big thankyou to all of you who've kept us in your thoughs and prayers. It's made a big difference. Keep 'em coming, if you can; we still need the help.
Gram was admitted last Friday with a small host of problems, some of which were traceable to an aortic dissection. Fortunately, the doctors say that it's only bleeding into the lining of her aorta and not into her chest, and it can be treated medicinally rather than surgically. Unfortunately, getting her weaned off the IV drugs and onto the same drugs administered orally is a long painful process full of pokes, prods, tests, drug balancing, disorientation, and not a whole lot of sleep. I won't go into gory details, because some of them are pretty unpleasant and gross, as medical treatments often are, but suffice it to say it hasn't been a very happy stay so far.
It's been a long couple of days; I slept on chairs and floors for three nights so she didn't have to be alone. She's gone through a lot of confusion and disorientation, which is difficult to see because up until Friday she was pretty much entirely independent, taking good care of herself and her dog while my mom's been at work. However, on the phone with Mom today, it sounds like she's improving rapidly, and is much better than on Tuesday night, which was pretty darn rough.
The nurses have been exemplary to a woman, and we've been very blessed for their kind, patient, gentle, tolerant presence. Three or four nurses, whom I won't name here but wish I could, made an incredible difference in getting her through some rough, scary times. Here's three cheers for the nursing staff of St. Joe's. Wish I could say the same about the doctors at this point.
What she has is pretty serious, but not so much that she can't go back to her normal life once she's recovered from her hospital stay. So thanks again for the prayers; we've definitely felt their good vibes. We're not entirely out of the woods yet, so any other good thoughts are much appreciated. And big huge thanks to Virus for taking in a stray when I needed it most. Life is so good, knowing I have such loving, kind friends that I can call on in times like these. Y'all are the best.
More soon.
Hey everybody. My Gram Lucy's in the hospital, and it's not looking good. Anybody who's willing to give the ol' prayer wheel a spin for her would be much, much appreciated.
Probably be in and out of contact this week; don't look for a lot of posts. Thanks to everyone who's already responded. Much love till I see you all again.
Hey, I know you guys have been totally missing my garden updates, right? Right?
It's a mixed bag this year, as predicted. The beans-along-the-fence are pretty much a total loss, between bugs, dry weather, and Paul's mistaken weedwhacking. The dead clematis has been resurrected and is actually looking pretty good (zombie clematis?). It's my goal to plant it this weekend.
The currant tomato is covered in tiny green beebees, and a few are finally turning red. Yow! It's amazing how potent those little guys are; the biggest ones are the size of blueberries, and have all the taste of a paste tomato crammed into a tee-tiny little package. All the other tomatoes are covered with hard green fruit; the tigerella is doing especially well, and even the reluctant Silvery Fir has a few. I'm looking forward to lots of stewed and dried tomatoes this winter!
The pumpkin is throwing huge numbers of boy flowers -- 5 to 7 per day. Unfortunately, there don't seem to be any girl flowers for them to date. There was one, and I purposely hand-pollenated it, but it appears to have shrivelled and died. One nice surprise was its next-pot-neighbor, the moon-and-stars watermelon, which has one tiny, lime-sized melon on it. It is green and yellow and spotty and cute. Soon, I will make it a tiny pantyhose hammock to relax in.
So it appears that fish aren't the only dead things in our backyard.
Last night we were getting ready for dinner, and Paul looked out the kitchen window to find a dead pigeon in our waterfall's pool.
Paul lifted it out with a shovel, I dug a hole under one of our stepping stones (heavy thing on the top in case some opportunistic neighborhood predator chanced along) and we dropped in mister deadbird. Then we both washed our hands like surgeons. Paul said that when he moved it, it was all stiff and dessicated, meaning that it'd probably been dead for a while and something'd dragged it into the backyard. We see the neighbor's half-feral cat back there a lot, so this is not an implausible theory.
Two days ago I went back to the petshop and had our water tested (I made a post for it but must have hit "Preview" instead of "Post", because it apparrently never went live, so here you go...) and everything checked out as normal: chlorine, pH, ammonia, nitrates, nitrites, and a couple other things. Everything. The petshop girl confessed that she had no idea why the fish were dying. She sold me another three orange comets at ten cents apiece. If these three die, we're getting mosquito dunks and being done with it.
Last night, I saw two fish, this morning I saw one. The countdown to chemicals begins.
A collection of La Linea shorts by Italian cartoonist Osvaldo Cavandoli. I was first exposed to these on The Great Space Coaster, where Roy would pull out this little pocket TV, stick in a slide, and show us an awesome cartoon.
So I got together with Kat on Monday and had a very nice dinner. We cooked this amazing smokey sausage white-bean soup with endive, and then feasted on Zingerman's cheese and baguettes. After dinner we stuffed ourselves with Kat's awesome cookies and Valhrona chocolate, and played around with a tube of henna that I brought. Kat did a really cool design on my toes, and I drew on Kat, but what I drew I'm not allowed to tell yet because Jim is away at a conference and he might be reading the blog and I'm not going to blow the surprise. But suffice it to say I got Kat one step closer to having actual tattoos.
And how often does one get to tattoo a librarian? Thanks again, Kat. I had a wonderful time.
As a kid growing up in rural Michigan, we had a big ol' antenna with a rotor on it so that we could pick up TV. It was tall enough that we could get Detroit, Toledo, and best of all -- Canada. CBC Windsor had some really awesome programs that influenced my youth, like OWL TV, Mr. Dressup, Canadian Sesame Street and of course, The Nature of Things with David Suzuki.
Imagine my glee when the Film Board of Canada put 50 of their favorite shorts online! Hat tip to Spike for the info. Good ones include "The Hockey Sweater", "BlackFly", "The Big Snit" and "La Faim/Hunger", which was produced in 1974 on a tweening computer posessing only 8K of memory. EIGHT KAY.
One that didn't make the cut is the Logdriver's Waltz, which I found on Youtube, thank goodness. It turns out that my two favorites of all time, Logdriver's Waltz and Blackfly were both written by this guy named Wade Helmsworth, and performed by Helmsworth, along with Kate and Anna McGarrigle. Whee! If you watch no others, watch these two.
Layla? Logdriver and Blackfly are the ones I keep ranting about. Watch 'em!
Found Tom a nice laptop on eBay for ~$250. More than I wanted to spend, and it didn't come with a battery, but it's in excellent shape for something I bought on eBay. I spent a few hours last night setting it up for him. Now I have one less Birthday and one less Christmas present to worry about!
Dang it!
Sunday morning, the fish were fine, swimming and flipping around in the pool. Last night they all turned up dead.
The only correlary I can find is that there was a lightning storm the night before each group croaked. Dunno. I'm going to call the petshop today and see if they'd do an analysis of my water to see what's going on.
Sheesh. Good thing I still hadn't named 'em.
I don't usually go in for fanvids, but this is precious.
Steph, Brock -- see if you guys can tune in the station this guy's picking up.
Had a very nice weekend. I blew off going to Saline Celtic. I couldn't put my finger on why, especially since most of the acts were ones I really wanted to see. Instead, I hung out with Becky and Rob, hit Farmer's Market, and got a bunch more work done on the book, holed up in Rocket Star's air conditioning.
Sunday, I took an actual day of rest, and Paul and I slept late, had a lazy breakfast, then headed out with Rob and Suzanne to Lake Michigan, where we spent five or six hours swimming and eating and playing frisbee and napping and swimming. It was wonderful, and much needed.
In other news, Brother Tom got engaged. We are all twinkly and sparkly and overcome with joy. Yay Tom! Yay Amanda! So blessed to welcome such a wonderful person into our family.
I spoke with Criminal Science Ichthyologist Agent Tisha last night about the untimely demise of my two fantails. She gave me some advice. We drained the pond, hosed off the rocks, and refilled it with fresh water -- no sign of Spot the entire time, so either he's croaked behind a rock, been eaten by a neighborhood predator, or killed and eaten by the now-deceased Fluffy.
At lunch today I made another run to the petshop and picked up a trio of plain ol' Comets -- the generic brand of goldfish. Together, they set me back thirty cents. Each fish is just under two inches long. The petshop girl told me I could easily try three at this size, and that would encourage survival of the fittest. At ten cents each, it's hard to argue that logic.
The petshop girl was really funny. She dipped the beautiful bright orange fish out of the feeder tank, and picked the biggest, most vigorous, healthiest-looking Comets out of the hundreds of other fish. She even put a couple back because they looked a little pokey. The final trio were giving her a hard time getting into the bag, and she kept mocking them -- "Ease up, stupid fish! You're going to Fishy Paradise! Everyone else in this tank is gonna get eaten!"
I also took Tish's advice and bought a Litmus Test Kit. I put the fishbag in the water to get acclimated, then tested the water. I now know what killed at least Fluffy, and probably Spot -- the PH was up over 8.5! Yikes! I knew we had hard water, but holy cow. I dumped in about a cup of white distilled vinegar in stages, checking between additions, until the water was at a nice 6.5 - 7.0 ... I added a little more vinegar than I probably needed, figuring that the rocks will continue to leach into the water, making it more alkaline over time.
I haven't named these three yet, as they're all pretty much identical. One's a little lighter orange than the other two, but other than that, they're all the same. I will say this -- they're certainly more speedy and vigorous than the two fantails, and according to Tish and the petshop girl, the comets are way hardier, too.
So yeah. Fish. Yay, fish. Yay, Tish.
Dang. Fluffy was happily swimming around this morning (Saw him as I glanced out the window) and this afternoon I found him dead behind a rock in his favorite hiding place. He'd lost a few scales on one side, but otherwise showed no signs of illness or decay. He got buried under the hostas, and will now fertilize plants in his eternal rest.
I haven't seen Spot for a day or two, and just assumed he'd been hiding. Now I wonder...
I added another dose of Stress Coat, removed half the water and refilled it with the garden hose, and still no Spot. I'm assuming the worst at this point.
Anybody have theories on what did them in?
Possible Factors:
Thoughts, fishy people?
Just got back from my yearly. Have no fear, timid readers, there will be no discussion of my nethers.
I do have to say how much I love my Gynecologist -- an RN named Nan. She kicks ass. She's very patient and kind and gentle and answers all my stupid questions. I asked her about a couple problems I had and she listened attentively and told me I had nothing to worry about in either case. One was a rather serious pre-diabetic herediatry syndrome, one which a friend had recently been diagnosed with. We fit some of the same body issues, and my mom also has so many of the symptoms that I think she had it and had never been diagnosed. Nan took a look at my bloodwork, weight and other factors and said she'd be highly surprised if I had it, and moreover, that they wouldn't know for sure until I tried to have kids.
She also praised all my stats -- resting heartrate, blood pressure, all my blood sugars, etc and said that I was in perfect health. She said not to worry too much about my weight, and the only thing I should work on was my slightly high bad cholesterol, which has been parked at 220 for the last ten years, though I do have a correspondingly high good cholesterol. Other than that, she said, just keep up the good work. (TAKE THAT, BIG BUTT!)
It sounds a bit weird that I would ask all these things of an OBGYN, but she's pretty much the only doctor I see all year. She fills my scrips, she gets me bloodwork when I ask for it, and she actually listens, unlike most hyperactive doctors I've seen in recent years. As she said herself, "Most doctors still haven't learned how to take their hands off the doorknob." Go, Nan.
"The way to subvert the dominant paradigm is to have more fun than they do, and make sure they know it.” -- David Eisenberg
By way of the Livejournal Quaker community, this landed on my friends list this morning: White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack and Male Privilege Checklist. Both are well worth a read.
Our waterfall, as with any other small body of water in Michigan, has developed mosquito larvae. I briefly considered getting some mosquito dunks, but then I pinged a couple friends who have fish and wound up buying a pair of tiny fantail goldfish instead. They're cuter than chemicals, as Nora said. One is a funny, dotty calico of orange and white and black, and the other is orange on top and white on the bottom with black fin tips.
Their names are Spot and Fluffy.
They're quite good at hiding in the rocks, which doesn't make them very visually spectacular, but does bode well for their potential survival, considering we have both feral cats and raccoons in our backyard with some regularity.
In other news, I didn't get much art done today because I was doing a myriad of other things: household chores, Farmer's market, making mint syrup from my overgrown mint plants, watering and puttering in the garden, buying fish, and firing up the Mehu-Maija. I have four processed pints of sour cherry juice and am drinking the leftover with ice and fizzy water in a mason jar. Yum yum.
So for the past two or three weeks, Paul and I and our friend Becky have been getting up every morning at 7am and going for an hourlong walk before work. Our route goes up some pretty serious hills, and we always come back in a nice sheen of sweat. I can feel the progress in my legs and glutes, and the Big Damn HIll is no longer as daunting... we can now make it to the top without being spent. In addition, I've been trying to watch my intake and control my portions, and to eat more greens and veg. Haven't baked bread in ages, and almost all of the carbs I've been eating have been whole grain.
And?
I've gained weight. Or at least my pants have gotten much tighter, to the point where I've taken to walking in a sarong, because it gives me more range of movement. I don't get it. I don't eat prepackaged food. I don't drink pop or eat snackfood, and fried foods only rarely, usually less than once a week. I shop almost exclusively at the coop and farmer's market, and eat salads and greens out of my garden. I'll have dessert a couple times a week, and the occasional glass of wine or beer, and almost never more than one alcoholic drink at a sitting. I'm exercising an hour a day. And I gain weight. Wha fu?
The only (only!) diet I've ever lost weight on is by cutting out bread, fruit and sugar altogether. But doing so makes me feel gross, and there's mounting evidence that unless you're allergic to gluten, such a diet is seriously unhealthy.
I'm consoling myself with the knowledge that at least some of this must be muscle gain, blah blah, and that I'm definitely healthier, which is always a plus. But c'mon, Wobblia, goddess of cellulite, throw me a bone!
Didn't do any actual comics work on Saturday, though I made up for it the other three days. Instead, I went to a cousin's graduation and made two kinds of jam and a cobbler.
It's full-swing fruit season here, and that means tart cherries and blueberries, two fruits I love dearly. Bought five pounds of blueberries: froze half and made the other half into jam. Bought four quarts of cherries -- froze some, made some into the aforementioned cobbler and made the rest into jam. Got eight jars total -- doesn't sound like much for all that fuss, but I love the feeling of looking at canned goods all lined up on the wall, of giving a handmade jar of delicious summertimey preserves to a friend in the February chill. Must be a Midwestern thing.
The Mehu-Maija has arrived, sending me into a full-fledged domestic geekout. This weekend, time willing, I'll sterilize the old girl and fire her up to make some cherry juice. Anybody got a wild grape arbor in their backyard? I'ma need some grapes this autumn.
And now for something entirely different -- a movie review. Saw Cars yesterday in a Matinee. Paul and I have been seriously dogging on this movie since we saw the first trailer last year. To us, it smacked of contractural obligation (initially, it was Pixar's last movie before cutting loose from Disney, oh the irony) and we saw nothing in the trailers to convince us to go, Pixar or not. A slew of good reviews and a dearth of other good movies (I've no interest in the new Supes) along with an extra day off convinced us to give it a try. Suffice it to say we entered the theater armed with some serious skepticism.
I'm happy to report that I was blown away. Fantastic movie. Pixar pulled out all the stops again -- we should never have doubted. The story was predictable and cliche, but the journey was so fun that it definitely gave credence to the theory that any concept, no matter how hokey, can be palatable if executed with the proper skill. Even the soundtrack, of which I expected an excreable palette of talentless oldie-rehashing, was pretty darn good. We'll definitely be buying this on DVD, and I absolutely cannot wait to hear the directors' and animators' commentary tracks.
Brother Tom needs a laptop. He's never had a computer before, and his needs are minimal. He needs a functional OS (Win 98, OSX or better), and a wireless card. The processor should be beefy enough to surf without a ton of waiting. All other features are optional.
He doesn't have home access, but will be using it in cafes and the like. I've got about $100 - $150 to spend. Anybody got an old laptop with a busted CD drive or other wonky part that they'd part with? PC or Mac is good, UNIX not so much. I'd rather buy it from someone I know rather than chance eBay.
I'd like to have it in hand by his birthday, which is September, so it's not a ton of rush.
Thanks in advance....