The deep state is the convo that’s going on in the back room. That’s the Twinz of Terror. Here in the Chitchen, I’ve got Sons of the Pioneers and I am blissfully happy NOT participating in the deep state convo. I don’t even know what the deep state is. Another ill-defined term as far as I’m concerned. What does it mean and why are y’all so scared of it?

The Sons of the Pioneers is some of the music I grew up listening to. I would call it more “cowboy” or “western” than “country” music. It isn’t really nasal at all. Don’t get me wrong, I have warmed up to “country” music over the years and during the early days of the pandemic, we would often take the Lyme Lounge out to one of the nearby state parks and put the pod onto Jeannie Seely’s show. Neither one of us like the song “Jolene” although we or I at least like Dolly Parton because what a person!! Actually I think it’s the name “Jolene” that I don’t like. (But maybe Dolly doesn’t like it either, hence the song.)

And then there’s ice ice baby because baby do I have ICE. I don’t have a LOT of ice but what is there makes it tricksy to get to Cygnus and even the garbage cart, which is FEET away from the front door. I went out this afternoon and there was a sheet of ice, so I put a bunch of de-ice stuff on it. The GG went out a little later and there was ANOTHER sheet of ice so he put MORE de-ice stuff on it. Still later the UU arrived and the sheet of ice had re-formed AGAIN. It was in the 30s today and we still have snow on the ground but the streets and sidewalks are dry as a bone. This stuff is coming out of the drainpipe and probably melting off what snow is still here. This is all on the north side of the Landfill so definitely the sun don’t shine there, at least not at this time of the year.

I have just banished a ceegar smoker from the house and I will now bring this higgledy-piggledy entry to a close.

P.S. They did move on from the deep state but we are now onto tin foil hats 🤣

So this afternoon. After a grock trip and a lot of chores and a fun phone convo with Uber Kayak Woman (out in the San Juans), I settled down to read. I’m midway through the third Game of Thrones book.

I think it was after 4:00 PM when I started to nod off a bit. I am NOT a napper but that time of day occasionally does me in. If I am on top of my game, I get up and move around. Today. I. Did. Not. So. All of a sudden I awoke to someone coming in my front door! Whut! I do not lock my door during the day when I am home. No neighborhood is 100% safe but this one is pretty close and from teleCublandia I can see everything that goes on outside, which is mostly people walking dogs wearing fancy jackets.

I jumped up and made some kind of horrible noise. I think I was trying to scream but it didn’t come out as a scream. And immediately realized that the person who came in my door was MY DAUGHTER! We both scared each other to death, her by coming in the door and me by making a terrible noise. The thing is that she was EXPECTED! There was a plan for her to come over and make dinner! She even sent me a grock list yesterday that I took with me to the store this morning. Jeesh!

We recovered ourselves from that ridiculous little episode and our mouse and raccoon came over and they all made chicken fajitas! Soooo good. Lizard prepped veggies and masterminded the whole thing. Raccoon commandeered the grill to cook the chicken. Mouse worked on her taxes 🤣 KW is on kitchen cleanup but that is kind of her THING anyway.

Good good smart kiddos 🧡🧡🧡

First a disclaimer. My post yesterday has to be just about the clumsiest post ever. What was I trying to say? I knew but somehow it didn’t come out like I wanted it to. Oh well. Short story: I was a spirited child and stuff happened (regular family stuff) and OF COURSE I often clashed with my mother for various reasons. Then I grew up. The end.

After days of dithering and dathering and haaaaannging around the Landfill, the GG launched himself to Hoton Lake today. He was doing useful things around here (taxes, etc.) but these things always seem to take sooooo long and there is so much stress involved. Sighing and pacing and loud phone calls with his siblings. I do NOT like phone calls and these were driving me nuts and THEN, when he would get off the phone he would try to tell me what they were talking about. I KNOOOOOWWWW! I heard the whole thing ’cause you were pacing around talking loudly.

So the poor old guy went to Hoton Lake All ALONE today. But guess what? Bernie (our niece’s husband) and a friend are up there to ice fish! So it sounds like the GG is probably having a GREAT TIME with GUYS doing some GUY things! Or at least talking GUY talk, since I doubt the GG is ice fishing.

I was doing a lot of sighing around here today myself as I struggled through our state’s latest user interface for renewing car and boat registrations. User ID? Whut? Password? I dunno. Which pictures show crosswalks? Duh. No I am NOT a robot. So it was easy to renew Cygnus BECAUSE MY NAME IS ON THE TITLE. It was easy to renew an old motorbote that we inherited from somebody (probably my dad?) BECAUSE MY NAME IS ON THE TITLE. Mooon Yooonit? I was able to renew it but MY NAME IS NOT ON THE TITLE. I think I know why (a logistical issue where I was “up north” when the GG picked up and paid for the car so I wasn’t there to sign on the line). But if I were not an internet Ninja, I’m not sure I’d’ve figgered that out. I think this particular user interface gets more complicated every year.

I have to say that the first time I renewed vee-hickle registrations online it was in the late 1990s and it was EASY. I think I did it on my strawberry iMac. I didn’t have to log in multiple times (or at all) or do two-factor authentication a few times because I screwed something up as I wended my way through the complicated user interface. As a long time online banking UI designer, I am very familiar with this stuff. But sometimes I have to bludgeon my way through it anyway…

The cool thing is that I THINK I registered both cars for TWO YEARS! Plus the state park passes.

This is the moominbeach 11 years ago. It was the last month of The Commander’s life and I was experimenting with Hipstamatic camera stuff.

It actually took me a long time to grieve for The Commander. Some people have thought that I was not all that nice to my moom. Sometimes I was not but that was as a child. But the story is more complicated than most people know. I was the first born child but I was not born until they were married 11 years. Yes. 11. So I was a sorta golden child for a while. And then my brother was born. I was 3-and-a-half when he was born and he wasn’t expected to live. My mom was in the hospital for a week and I was well taken care of by my grandma and aunts and cousins at the moominbeach durimg that period. That proverbial village it takes to raise a child? I had that.

I was at my aunt Katie’s cabin when I got reunited with my parents after my brother’s birth. I asked where the baby was. My mom said they weren’t sure he was coming home.

He did come home and he was healthy for many years but died at 47 due probably to getting hepatitis C via his blood transfusion after birth. Rh negative complications.

So I was a spirited child. I got my nose put out of joint when my brother came along. Add angsty teenager to that and of course I wasn’t always nice to my mother.

At one point when we were discussing hospice for mom, I told a nurse that I was NOT the favorite child. Given that I was the only child at that point, we both cracked up. What else could we do?

I did the best I could for my moom in her last year of life but I was not really up to it. A Cdiff infection was what ultimately led to her death. She went to the hospital a bunch of times before Cdiff and every time she came “home” weaker.

All these years after her death, I am able to think about my mom as she was when I was a child and later on. I am not crazy about phone conversations in general but we did call each other frequently when I was an adult and we would gossip like crazy.

And yes I grieve.

Rap music is not one of my faves (I don’t hate it, just don’t seek it out). But when you do the xword every day you sorta get to know at least some rapper names. Dr. Dre, Lil NAS X, and Cardi B are a few of the frequent xword rappers. I couldn’t tell you anything about their music but when you encounter a clue for a 3-letter word that begins a lot of rapper names, “lil” works. I am never sure if there’s an apostrophe in “lil” somewhere or not but it doesn’t [usually] matter for the xword.

I do like some of Eminem’s stuff. One time back in the Jurassic Age when Mouse had her learner’s permit, she was driving The Indefatigable with me in the front passenger seat as required. We were picking up our friend TK to go to a rehearsal or something. An Eminem song that I liked came on and Mouse was about to change it but I said, “Can I listen to this?” Well yes of course. So when TK clambered into the back seat of the 2-door jeep, he said something like, “Whoa, Mouse, music?” Like *you* are listening to Eminem? Her reply? “My MOM wanted to listen to it.” After that song was over I (of course!) let them listen to whatever they wanted. I liked my kids’ music. Sometimes after a bazillion practice driving runs out on the Huron River Drive I would nix Ani or Kaia. They are great. I was just got taaaared of hearing them umpteen bazillion times.

My daughters (like me) were excited about learning to drive. Lizard was able to take it as a high school class and did so proactively. She was doing some driver’s ed homework in the POC one day when a middle school PTO colleague came over to drop off paperwork or whatever. Lizard looked really young at that age and when I pointed out to the PTO lady that she was doing driver’s ed homework, the PTO lady (who had younger kids) was agape. By the time Mouse got to driver’s ed age, the schools had cut driver’s ed classes so I enrolled her in a popular local program. She was 14 at the time (which was legal for the course) and at first she looked at me like I was crazy but she took to it like a duck in water. It was so fun when we were heading over to a rehearsal and other Yaggies were next to us in their mom’s car and they were goggle-eyed! Mouse is DRIVING!

Of course both my daughters (and many of their friends and cousins of various degrees) already knew how to DRIVE (MANUAL TRANNY NO LESS) before they even took driver’s ed. This was courtesy of the GG and the Indefatigable and the yooperland’s two-track forest roads. Driver’s ed taught them to deal with city traffic and the associated rules, etc. They could already operate an automotive vee-hickle.

Actually it was apparently more like KABOOOOOOOOM!!!!

A substation blew up. I did not hear it. It was (more or less) downtown and I was safely ensconced over here at teleCubelandia. I heard about it from the beach urchin whose office is in the vicinity. She didn’t tell me about the big boom, just that the power had gone out and if she didn’t have power at her HOUSE (which is close to her work), she might come over to the Landfill and co-work with her baggy old mooma duck.

The King of Cryptic Text Messages was also on the thread but he didn’t CAREFULLY read all of the messages (this is typical) so he CALLED me. He was WALKING down in that area and SAW IT BLOW UP if I have it right. In the grand scheme of things it seemed like a non-event, i.e., no one was hurt and the explosion cleared up quickly. And actually although there were power outages, they were not widespread and she was able to work from home for the rest of the afternoon.

So I didn’t get to see that beach urchin today but I did get a quick visit from the other one, who had forgotten her lunch money so came over to “borrow” some from me (that I will NEVER ask her to repay) and pick up a piece of mail that I keep forgetting to take with me when I go grock shopping. She could’ve borrowed lunch money from any number of people but she picked her baggy old mooma duck!

The GG got to see both beach urchins. The lunch money kiddo when she stopped by the Landfill and he and the lucky-shuckial one met up briefly at Kerrytown.

That’s about it for today. We will not talk about taxes and I did not see any weird monstrous aminals anywhere. You’re welcome.

The 7-headed snake was a facebook post. It was apparently posted with a straight face. I mean like the person who posted it seemed to BELIEVE it! I didn’t click on the link. Instead I opened a new tab and did The Google. As I expected the snake was a fake. Fake Snake!

I found info that animals with TWO heads (most commonly reptiles) are occasionally born (I knew that). But that they rarely live very long (I knew that) although a few 2-headed snakes have been known to live a normal life span and reproduce (I suspected that). But SEVEN perfect identical heads? Naw. And then. The article I found (Snopes) showed two additional pictures. One was the same snake with three heads. The other was an original picture of the real one-headed snake. Photoshop anyone? Although to be fair even the “original” one-headed pic could have been photoshopped. (I didn’t share a link to pics of this thing. Snakes are a serious phobia and even though I don’t have that phobia, the photo was too much for me, even though I knew it was fake.)

This reminds me of the strange conversation I found myself in at my childhood job one day when a weird co-worker told us about visiting some kind of exhibit that included an 11-pound mosquito. This was before them thar inter-tubes and she didn’t have any pictures so I was kinda thinking, um, why are we even having this conversation?

Other than that it was a “jumpy” day around here during which “people” had their eyeballs on tax season and were trying to log into all kinds of financial accounts with mixed success. Eventually “people” badgered their main BROTHER! (Don’t ask why, it would be boring to a cFam outsider.) That meant phone calls accompanied by the usual phone call pacing and meeeeee yelling from my online banking “office” in the front room stuff like, “routing numbers are BANK numbers and they are EIGHT digits plus a checksum digit and MANY accounts can have the same routing number!” They can also have a dash in the middle of the first eight digits but I didn’t tell them that. Also that we NEVER call them routing numbers (but banks do), we call them ABAs.

And this snowman seems to be listing a bit. Kinda how I feel after today😵‍💫 Or has he got a sword in hand leering at his victim? En garde! (Maybe I’ve been reading too much Game of Thrones.)

Aaargh. Today is a significant birthday for a friend of ours. The covid transmission rate is LOW in our county. Just last week it was HIGH but that was due to a data anomaly where a bunch of cases from sometime in the fall didn’t get added until recently. I don’t really think the counts from the health department mean anything much anyway but that would be a whole ‘nother post.

I woke up today thinking I really didn’t want to go out tonight. Somehow I changed my mind during the day and decided to just do it. A third couple was supposed to join us but one of them had cold symptoms so they begged off. Thank you very much. I did not want to catch whatever they had, covid or not. I used to cavalierly gallivant around all over when I had cold symptoms, hacking and coughing up a lung. I don’t think I will ever do that again.

Tonight’s adventure does not mean that I am ready to return to indoor restaurant dining on a regular basis. I took a calculated risk tonight but I will not soon return to regularly visiting indoor dining establishments. But it was fun tonight and I hope there weren’t enough covid molecules in the room to get any of us sick.

Cheers and HB to JP.

It was my brother who once complained that he was nothing more than a doorman for a dog. I’m pretty sure he was talking about his big mutt Sam. That guy was a rather needy dog. He was a rescue although I don’t really remember the specific circumstances. We used to call rescue dogs (at least some of them) strays. My Tigger dog was a stray and she was the bestest smartest dog ever. We loved her and she was crazy about us and lived a good long life with lots of moomincabin/beach freedom. I loved Sam too but my brother was his PERSON.

Anyway, the GG was acting a lot like old Sam the dog today. In and out and in and out and in and out the back door. I mean he was grilling a chicken and at least I didn’t have to go and open the door for him every time. He is a human and can handle doors without help. And then it was in and out and in and out and in and out of the refrigimatator. I mean, after dining on a chicken, haricots verts with almonds, and wild rice, he made an English muffin. Why? He needed a snack. Why did he not eat any of the snacks he bought at the Plum Market today? I do not know. And then there was the whole hopping up and down in front of football games thing.

And then there was the garbage. He wanted to dump a chicken carcass into an empty compost cart? I don’t think so. Now. It IS okay to put meat scraps into our compost carts but it works better if they also have leaves and yard waste in them. Otherwise it’s a stinky mess in the warm parts of the year and things FREEZE to the bottom of the cart in the winter. Plus they only pick up the compost carts once a month in the winter. The proper thing to do is layer some dry leaves on the bottom of the cart, then put icky stuff in a PAPER grocery bag, which he had from going to the Plum. That’s not *exactly* what happened today but it’ll get figured out. The thing that was bothering me today is that I AM GARBAGE WOMAN and he seemed to be trying to usurp my title!

P.S. When I was a small child I got mad at my mom one time and the only insulting thing my brain came up with is “you meat scrap!”🤣

Mr. Golden Sun showed his face most of today but he didn’t turn on his brilliance until a bit before sunset. Most of the day he looked a lot like this pic.

The GG had a mini adventure in mind for today. “Let’s go for a ride!” Okay. I was kinda thinking about going south but he had another destination in mind, which was driving North Territorial Road over until it ended or at least to Meridian Baseline State Park. So that is what we did.

We got there and he wanted to take the mini-hike to the survey marker. I did not accompany him because I was not sufficiently dressed for 5-6 inches of snow and cold temps. I was dressed to go to the grocery store in Cygnus, meaning no scarf or balaclava, no jacket, and Keen sandals over tights. No boots. Cygnus egregiously idles at 85 degrees unless you change her settings so I knew I wouldn’t need to suit up unless we were planning to end up in a ditch, which we weren’t (and didn’t). So I let him go.

I worked on puzzles in Cygnus and at one point I jumped over to facebook just to see what was going on. A north country trail buddy of ours had POSTED ABOUT THE PARK WE WERE AT! I was gobsmacked. Of course when I told the GG about this, his response was, “I know.” Usually it’s meeeee who is ahead of the GG on facebook but not this time. At any rate, throughout our history as a couple, we have often driven North Territorial out to M52 and back. It is TODAY I learned that North Territorial Road does not stop at M52.

I guess this was from the GG’s walk today? Did the GG walk today? I almost couldn’t remember everything that happened today. Not that it was all that exciting. Just work stuff. So yes, he did walk and obviously he walked down to the river.

After my rant about Clean Water Action yesterday, a funny thing happened today. A white pickup truck pulled up and a few minutes later the doorbell rang. I was thinking it was Dan next door although he wouldn’t DRIVE here. Turns out it was a young kid (10 maybe?) who was offering driveway salting. The GG answered the door (thank you god because I was in a meeting) and he asked the kid how much this service would cost. Five dollars. The GG sneaked a little grin at me and hired the kid even though the GG had already salted our driveway. The kid was trying to save up money to buy a drone. The GG started working when he was about that age, beginning with a paper route.

I am totally okay with kids taking the initiative to earn money. I do not like when organizations like Clean Water Action “hire” young people to go door to door to solicit money.

Lobster pot pie tonight during porterzoomation. Lovely. Harry and David. When I was a kid, Harry and David was the applets and cotlets that some relative sent to my grandparents every xmas. Those were good but lobster pot pie is sooooo much better. As is their brie en croute. Times have changed.

Spotify: Mooooody Bluuuues now. Earlier Clannad (Celtic fusion).

Weirdness: “Go Now” came on in the middle of my Moody Blues Spotify playlist? Whut? This was the Moody Blues? Yes. It was. Me and the GG were both gobsmacked.

At the door? Clean Water Action slave. Yes slave. This is a scam organization that recruits idealistic college students to go DOOR-TO-DOOR asking for money. I’m sorry but no. Usually they are out in June when we have the “midnight” sun. January is a little odd. The GG was like “but this is a safe neighborhood.” I was like “no neighborhood is safe for a woman soliciting ALONE, especially in the dark.”

Cygnus? New veeeeendsheeeeld fluid today. Yay!

Reading? Second Game of Thrones book. Enthralled with the dwarf. So far.

Weather? Big clumps of snow hitting the roof all day long. Heavy snow yesterday and mid-30 temps today. Supposed to get cold overnight and windy tomorrow.

Delivery? Lobster pot pie (with dry ice and plenty of packing). Saving the box for flinging things.

Flinging? No progress but Kiwanis posted pics of their apparently revamped office supply section and it looks like they are taking BINDERS again! Yay!

Grock list? Cocktail onions. A recent rediscovery by the GG. I remember him sitting his mouse on the kitchen counter and sharing cocktail onions with her with a tiny hors d’oeuvres fork. I wonder if she still likes them. Oh yeah, and eggs. We’re down to two eggs. I used two today and one of the ones I cracked, I managed to dump the CONTENTS into the compost thingy with the coffee grounds and whatever, not the SHELL. A small tragedy and yes I KNOW how expensive eggs are these days. I am FORTUNATE that I can afford the exorbitant prices and that we don’t use tons and tons of eggs like we used to when we were feeding children.

Chickens in my backyard? Nope. Although I still miss the rooster that was around at a neighbor’s a few years ago.

Or what passes for normal aka “it’s January and this is Michigan.” I dunno how many inches we got today but glad I didn’t have to drive to Cubelandia, the GG chose not to drive anywhere, and Lizard Breath walked to work. Alas, mouse had/has to drive to and from work during the worst of today’s “winter storm.”

Even if Cubelandia still existed, I’d’ve telecommuted today. I’m remembering a day back in my childhood career… The GG and I worked in the same facility but the beach urchins were babies at that time so we arranged to share hours (I worked part time). It was my turn to go in at six AM. Guess what? We woke up to 10 inches of snow! I’m pretty sure I didn’t shovel or anything, just backed the car down the driveway (slight downward slope), slodged out into the street then onto the main roads, which were not really plowed.

That was some drive. The car I was driving had an issue with the ventilation system such that we couldn’t defog the windows, meaning I couldn’t see out zee veendshield. So I opened my windows. At one point I got to a red light in a place where I had a slight uphill slope. I knew if I stopped, I would not be able to get through the light. So. I looked around and seeing NO other traffic anywhere, I RAN THE LIGHT!

As I was doing that, there was lightning and a big crack of thunder. Yes, thundersnow! If I’d had time to think about it, I might have wondered if the yooper gods were lobbing lightning bolts at me for running a red light. As it was, I just whooped something joyful out my open windows and continued to my work.

I did get to work just fine (it was only a five mile drive) and the only other thing I remember about that day was a student intern calling my boss’s phone (which I answered more often than not) to ask if the building was shut down that day. All I could think of to say was, “Well, I am here.”

Actually I’ve been noodling about classified documents and how they are handled. I’ll try to keep this non-political although it’s hard for me to do when the Orange Baboon is involved.

When TFG was caught with classified documents in his personal residence, I was ticked off. Especially since he engaged in his typical toddler behavior to try to excuse himself from any and all wrong-doing. Then Biden was caught with documents. Today Pence was caught with some. I believe the latter two are not acting like big orange toddlers and are complying.

But then I put my systems analyst hat on and came to the realization that a big problem here is probably the process and policies for handling classified documents. How many other ex-prez-type folks have classified documents floating around their homes? Obama maybe? What about Dubya? Or Clinton? Did George Washington keep some? I bet they all have them although I think we can excuse George Washington at this point.

Working for the online banking industry I have to do online training courses multiple times a year about (among other things) handling sensitive documents. The documents folks in my company handle are not the same as those our nation’s leaders but they are important. I actually have it all down pat, even though since I do not interact with clients, I don’t HANDLE sensitive documents. As a UX designer, I fake EVERYTHING. For example, if I had to mock up a web page with a social security number, it would be 000-00-0000. I don’t deal with SSNs so that’s just an example.

The point being is that my employer takes information security very seriously. Does our government? If so, are there policies in place to ensure that classified documents don’t leave the office when the elected official leaves? Who is responsible for ensuring that these documents are handled correctly? We can’t really expect a president to scrutinize each individual document when they are moving out after their term ends, especially not TFG who was known for tearing up papers and throwing them on the floor. I think there need to be CLEAR policies and easy processes to follow to protect classified documents. I am guessing we don’t currently have either of those. I also wonder how many of these documents really need to be classified. Are there policies for that? Easily accessible policies that is.

Hey, Alien Encounter! Mr. Golden Sun ALL DAY TODAY. Things are predicted to go downhill tomorrow and Cygnus has been alerting me about that for the last couple days. She’s also been alerting me that I’m low on veeensheeeld viper fluid, which is a lot more useful than a winter storm warning.

I don’t even know what to write. The GG and I spent a lot of time tonight talking about our days at That Darn EPA. It was what I call my childhood job and the job he retired from. I was not happy about him retiring at the time he did but he has kept himself very busy so MOST OF THE TIME it works out.

The early days of the pandemic were difficult. I was sent home OVERNIGHT! Like we were at work on March 12, 2020. It was a Thursday and some of us were talking about whether we would come to Cubelandia the next day. I and other people were already happy birthday washing our hands in the bathroom, not realizing that it was actually an aerosolized virus and the handwashing wasn’t really all that useful. I did think I would come in to Cubelandia the next day.

But. The liqwire store was on the way home and my intuition told me to stop there. When I got home there was a text from my boss saying, “Don’t come in tomorrow.” I didn’t. And I never went there again except to take stuff outta my cube (I was masked) and to drop off a serger-type sewing musheen. Uh, to send off for recycling… We did not do sewing at Cubelandia.

Anyway, me and the GG — two very independent people — were suddenly forced to be 24-7 companions. Ever hear the saying “I married you for better or worse but not for lunch?” That’s kinda what we were faced with. It’s okay and we’re doing okay even though we are total opposites in terms of political opinions and a few other things. When we talk about our work ethic we are 100% together and that is one of the main things that counts.

Last weekend when I was space-i-fied, I actually got a lot of little household chores done. This weekend? A few things yesterday. Today? Not so much.

I did get myself up and out at 0-skunk-30 and that was nice because at that time of day it was bone dry outside and I didn’t need to put on my Yaks to walk. Got home, grabbed some orange juice, started in on the day’s word puzzles, looked out the window and there was snow on the ground. It’s been almost a month since we’ve had any kind of snow that accumulated. We didn’t get more than a couple of inches but it is still hanging around and maybe hasn’t even stopped yet.

I’ve been reading Game of Thrones. (Did I blahg that already? I can’t remember.) I started watching the series in the fall but watched sporadically and got a little lost. I figured the book(s) would flesh things out a little more and so they do. Still, I was halfway through the first book and googling things like crazy when I realized that there is a TON of information at the end of the book about all the families and stuff.

I did a LOT of reading this weekend (long books) and I greatly enjoyed it. But. By late afternoon today, I decided I needed a mini-break from the violence. I can handle violence in books and movies, etc., but needed to step back for a bit. Oddly I am not so good at HORROR if that makes any sense. Not sure why or if I can articulate the difference.

Stealing another pic, this one from the beach urchin that did not go to South Carolina. Her new house is walking distance from our own Huron River and in one of the other pics she sent, there was a kayaker. I chose this one though because I liked the snowy trees in the foreground.

And now football is on as ambient background noise, which I enjoy. And there is a faaaaar in the faaaaarplace.

Ugh. Another great grey-green greasy limpopo day on The Planet Ann Arbor. It is not green because winter and it is not greasy because it isn’t warm enough to be greasy and there is no ice (yet), which can be greasy in its own way. I guess that leaves us with grey. Again.

So what did I do today? I knocked my iPhone off the bathroom counter. Yay me!!! It fell on the (ceramic?) tile. Although it landed on its back and has a case, the screen still cracked. The cracks are very light and it works just fine but I’m not sure how long I’m gonna wanna deal with reading through cracks. Putting my e-reader on dark mode (white text on black background) makes it better but still.

My phone is going on four years old. It’s an XS. Yes really. It replaced an identical model (the X) and I bought it because the battery on the X swelled up. I was at the moomincabin at the time and I got the ONLY iPhone in Sault Ste. Siberia. Buying that phone was a surreal experience but I won’t go there for now except that it was 2019 so definitely pre-COVID. Face masks were nowhere near my radar screen at that time and I didn’t think ANYTHING of walking into a store bare faced. Remember those days? 🐽

The last time I cracked an iPhone screen was a looooong time ago. We drove the Frog Hopper halfway across the state to pick up the Lyme Lounge from the Uncly Uncle, who had been using it at a family event in Indiana. We parked to wait for him, I got out of the car and dropped it FACE DOWN onto gravel. Okay, not fun.

Live and learn? Knock on wood, it has been a LOOOOOONG time since my laptop has taken a drink. My CURRENT laptop has NEVER taken a drink (knock on wood). I also think that all of this stuff is at least a LITTLE more water-resistant than it used to be. My previous laptop’s track pad went nuts if it encountered even ONE MOLECULE of liquid. I am careful with this one but have had NO incidents. Knock on wood.

So even though my phone works fine (knock on wood) I am thinking about getting a new one.

Photo credit to my mouse who is on a rocket trip to South Carolina. This is 40-acre Rock.

Okay, so the Missouri house of representatives has enacted rules for what women must wear on the state house floor. I’m linking to an article in the NYT here even though some people I know and love have been known to label that newspaper as a purveyor of fake news. Harumph.

Anyway. Women must cover their arms? Really? Since when are bare arms a distraction to a man’s penis? I suppose there are some arm fetishes out there but but but… I mean Marjorie Taylor Greene(eee) of the US house regularly wears sleeveless attire to whatever it is that she does out there in Warshington. No one seems to care about that.

Of course there are no restrictions on what MEN must wear. Why not?

Nowadays I am a full-time telecommuter and no one cares what I wear. When I began my adult job at Cubelandia, business casual attire was very loosely required. I didn’t have a problem conforming to that at all and actually I always covered my arms. Partly because I felt weird walking around in sleeveless clothing but also because it could be cold in Cubelandia.

Our dress code was always loosely enforced. One day I arrived at work and realized I was wearing a rather “loud” pair of socks (with my sandals). For a moment or two I was worried that I might be non-compliant with the dress “code”. Then my boss the LSCHP walked in. He was wearing a Grateful Dead t-shirt under a huge brown suit jacket and I fergit what else. Oh yeah, Batman yarmulke. I thought okay, I am good…

Then there was a summer when we downsized and rearranged Cubelandia. That whole summer was declared summer casual. Yikes! What that ended up meaning was that large refrigerator-shaped men wore cargo shorts to work. Meaning the rest of us got to look at their big hairy calves. In truth this did not bother me at all. In fact, it totally cracked me up. I continued to wear my comfortable low-key summer-weight biz-caz.

In one of my most humiliating junior high experiences, I was walking alone through the attached high school building after band practice (a VERY long story but I was in the high school band in junior high). The principal, a well known person and friend of my family, approached me to tell me that my skirt was too short. In fact, since we had been marching (outside) and I had been running (until I got into the school) because I had to join my junior high class late (always embarrassing), my skirt was “bunched up” in front. I knew that and was VERY embarrassed about it but hadn’t been able to FIX IT! All these years later, I am still angry that he felt obligated to stop and harass me about my clothing. He had a long career there and a lot of people have wonderful memories of him. I remember him as a bully.

Why oh why oh why are we still so focused on regulating what women wear?

I keep the radio down low all day so at the end of the day I wasn’t sure if I had heard correctly that David Crosby had died. Geez, he was just tweeting a couple (or maybe 10) days ago. UPDATE: Actually his last tweet was the day before he died.

I had a weird encounter with him (maybe?) when I was a kid. I was at some dive college baroooooom and he was apparently randomly slumming there that evening. I didn’t recognize him but after a [drunk] friend said over and over and over again, “Look at your album cover!” I decided well, maaaaybe it is him. I don’t really remember much more than that except that he was rude to me. And I was probably rude to him, especially not knowing who the hell he was.

True or not, it is a minor memory in my life. I was never much of a fan girl. I didn’t scream when the Beatles were on Ed Sullivan or moon over Paul McCartney’s cutosity (and he WAS cute) or any of that kind of thing. I had no aspirations to hang out with the rich and famous. I liked someone’s music or not. I did like Crosby’s (and his band’s) music and have continued to listen to it throughout my life. I’m listening to it on Spotify as I write this.

That encounter notwithstanding, I do (or did) follow him on Twitter. Why? I guess it began as curiosity killed the cat but I quickly found that I liked his views and opinions, at least the ones he posted. I have no clue what the 99.999% of his communications that didn’t get posted on Twitter were like. In life, he was known to be something of an a**hole and I can attest to that if my encounter was truly with him. But his tweets were spot on.

Anyway, I will miss him popping up on Twitter now and then and this is not the best picture of a yooperland sunset but it’ll do. The yoop is the closest I can come to heaven. Godspeed Mr. Crosby.

Y’all prob’ly don’t wanna know about the title. Two NON-libtards are zooming (in the cozy room) and one of them (the GG) mentioned libtards. Laughter ensued even from me.

I PROUDLY OWN the label Libtard! Some people seem to equate libtardism with communism or socialism or whatever. I think those folks need to look back to what they learned in their high school classes umpteen bazillion years ago. I am not about to try to provide definitions for those isms at this point. I also probably need to revisit those definitions. But I’m pretty sure that those systems don’t match what’s going on in the United Snakes nowadays.

But if I am a libtard, it’s because I want to take care of others who have less than I have if I possibly can. Yeah, there are the “welfare moms” who try to game the system but far more of the recipients of our tax dollars are in great need and facing huge obstacles to overcome them. I have more than I need and I don’t mind sharing a bit. I did a stint taking community college classes and I saw a lot of those struggles first hand. So many people have so few resources. I include intellectual, psychological, and family resources. We need to help those people if we can and I think a lot of people can. That is a lot different than forcibly taking resources from the “rich” and distributing them to the “poor”.

In other news! Yaaayyyy! We ordered a COUCH today! TEAL! We ordered it from a store in Gaylord and we will have to go and pick it up and trailer it back ourselves. That’s okay. I guess we’ll use the cFam Trash Trailer. Also okay is that it won’t be ready for 4-8 weeks. I’ve loved to hate The Green Couch for umpteen bazillion years and I can love to hate it for a few more months. I may actually need a long goodbye.

HAHAHAHA! A woman who joined the zoom meeting is also NOT a Musk fan. One of a few reasons why is she is reluctant to change her shaky eastern yooperland internet connectivity situation to Starlink.