There is a photo op at the MFA today to take picutres of the ducklings in little coats and hats.

What I really want to hear is the video of the poor sod who has to put the cute little coats and hats on the ducklings, and what the mother duck has to say about it.
Posted mostly for the amusement of you know who you are. My screenreader does weird things with pronounciation marks, but you can find these words with their proper spelling and more at

from _The Portable Veblen_ (2016)
Elizabeth Mckenzie

block quote start
Her thoughts wandered. "You know, I wonder if the gentlemanly title of squire could be connected to the word squirrel. Way back, of course. Although I've heard it comes from the old Greek skiouros, which means shade ass."
He jauntily lifted his tail and fanned it out over his backside!
"I know the old English was aquerne, like acorn. And the German word for squirrel is Eichhornchen, which means something like oak-kitty. Nothing to do with squires or knights at all. In fact, your name is used derisively a lot of the time. To be squirrelly is to be crazy, nutty, weird. Outside the norm. And to squirrel something away is to be a hoarder, a stasher, a miser, a skinflint.
"Why has your name been so abused?
"It's not fair."
block quote end

Appendix C: 65 Ways to Say Squirrel

Azerbaijani--d l
Read more... )
So. Politics. Pretty scarey stuff.

I'm trying to do my best to remember to take my antidepressants and not think too much about it because, if I do, I'm back in that place where I spent my childhood, where anything good can be taken away for no reason other than the meanness of an angry person, , and you, too, could slip off the edge of the world and there's no safety net and no one will even notice.

That's what the world felt like to me before Alexx and Melville Keep, and I know that that's the past, but my inner child exists pretty close to the surface, and she's not always easy to reassure.

Anyway, that was what I was thinking about, or trying not to think about, and then this other thought just slipped in.

Just think what it's like for Queen Elizabeth.

This is a woman who has spent her entire life trying to live with dignity, diplomacy, and a self-discipline of trying to be a wise ruler.

The woman is ninety years old, she has got to be tired.

And now she has to actually be nice to DT, and try not to stab him in the eye with a fork at state dinners.

On the other hand, DT and King Phil will probably get on like a house on fire.
The Case of Evil (Dirs. Neal Hallford, Jana Hallford, 2014)

This short is only ten minutes long but those are ten minutes of retro horror delight, especially for anyone who loves those blues songs about guitar players and the Devil.

The acting starts off a little stiff until things really start rolling, but the script is tight and the dialogue tells a story in a few simple words, just like the best blues songs.

I saw this for free with my Amazon prime membership, but I'm not sure how else one can find this short.
But I'm probably his most crazed blind fangirl, because I will definitely be voting in hopes that Mark will be doing a nude scene in his next movie.

And don't think that I won't be able to tell if he's really naked: I'll know.

Everybody has a price; I'm content in the knowledge of what mine is.
Because every time I read about the "Stranger Things" party in Salem, which happens waaaay past my bedtime, I need to have a Stranger Things" Halloween.

So, idea?

The official foods: Eggos and chocolate pudding (I heart Dustin!)

Christmas light, maybe with a handmade poster of a large Ouija board?

D&D paraphernalia (I don't know--this might be hard to come by at Melville Keep)

Oh, and compasses! Everybody must have at least one compass!


Edited later: And yes, if I had the skillset I would try to make a DIY sensory deprivation tank...
Julia's Eyes (Dir. Guillem Morales, 2010)

This movie took me completely by surprise; I came to see the blind final girl, and stayed for a smart and stylish filmthat kept me riveted until the very end.

Julia is a young woman who is slowly losing her sight due to a degenerative eye disease, but insists on investigating the death of her twin sister Sara, who suffered from the same eye condition. While Julia's husband and Sara's doctor conclude that her sister committed suicide because she couldn't live with being blind, Julia insists that Sara was stronger than that (ha! that's one in the eye for the condescending sighties!).
Read more... )
THE LAST OF SHEILA Dir. Herbert Ross, (1973)

Directed by Herbert Ross ("The Seven Percent Solution") and with a script written by Stephen Sondheim and Anthony Perkins, this is a fun and fast-paced murder mystery.

James Coburn plays a meglomaniacal Hollywood producer who invites a group of friends, which includes Richard Benjamin as a down-on-his-luck screenwriter and James Mason as a down-on-his-luck director, for a weeklong cruise on his yacht.

Once they arrive, the group discovers that a murder game has been arranged, and you don't have to be a mystery fan in expecting that pretend murder will soon turn into real murder.

What you might not be expecting is how wildly and wittily the story goes off the rails in the final act.

This is an incredibly fun movie that seems to start off simply but continues to accumalate surprising twists and turns right through to the very end. Highly recommended.
I know most people are reluctant to say goodbye to summer but, in Kestrell's world, Labor Day weekend means the start of the Halloween season, and this is my pick for the second coolest event* happening this year.

Creative Salem Stranger Things Halloween Party -Tribute to Barb.
October 7

Stay tuned for details.. But this will be a multidimensional trip to the 80's like no other :-) DJ, BAND, ALTERNATE REALITIES, NIBBLES, TAB, GOVERNMENT CONSPIRACY, REALLY BAD DANCING, TWINKLE LIGHTS, CASH BAR, LASERS AND MORE

Tickets will be on sale soon and members will get first shot at them!

There will only be about 100 tickets available for this one so once it is go time we HIGHLY suggest grabbing yours!
RSVP on Facebook

*The coolest event is Halloween at Melville Keep, where people definitely get into the spirits of the season. Also, it doesn't happen after my bedtime.
For my birthday my sweetie bought me a USB hub shaped like a skull. The skull has a depression in it, as if someone scooped out the brainpan, so it's the perfect place to put my little amplifier bot. The bot's googly eyes juuuuust peer over the top of the skull, so I must use the word "lo-bot-ony" here.

Now I can play WWOZ from New Orleans on my old iPod anytime I want (it turns out ere aren't that many things I want to do with an iPod).

Oo, I just noticed that the eye sockets on the skull are deep enough to put things in...I need to find some pearls.
Is there a difference between a
contact language
Macaronic languge

Is it that a contact language is spoken and Macaronic language is more likely to refer to a written or sung creative work? (Except the Macaronic language entry refers tot he Sublime song, which I love.)To give this a more specific context, I'm thinking of Salvatore's speaking style in _The Name of the Rose_ and of the minions language in the movies, both of which I have read referred to by linguists as examples of contact languages.
because watching the temperature go sloooowly up to sixty-odd degrees, only to see that the next day's weather is calling for snow, is just making me crazy.

The Things That Live In the Wall (yes, there are now multiples) also seem to be stunned speechless, or at least, a lot less twittery. Or perhaps, just like a character in a horror story, I have misinterpreted the unusal quiet and they are stealthily planning to hack through the wall, but with those little beaks instead of axes. Heeeeeeere's Tweety!
A month or so ago I realized that, since the large evergreen tree in the front yard had been cut down to provide more light for the new solar panels, there was a big empty space where I could plant a wildflower meadow.

Yes, that was my simple plan, something low-maintenance with no picky requirements for a particular soil pH, or demands for regular watering, or anything like that. I did get sidetracked by stumperies for a while, but then realized that I liked using the stump as a seat way too much to let the plants have it.

Sunday, LJ user tinybuffalo helped me scatter some wildflower seeds for the first day of spring, and Alexx just helped me complete phase one, which was to sow a pound of white Dutch clover to cover up the bare spots. I wanted to get this done before the week of rain begins.

Also, I got a crow call, since I really like crows. It actually sounds a lot like a kazoo, or maybe it's just a musical form I have yet to master.

The next phase is to start some seedlings in one of those mini-greenhouse kits; I have lots of lavender, rosemary, and thyme (I tried to break up that phase so that the song wouldn't start up in my head, but I completely failed, sorry about that).

And then...

I came across a book that called to me: _Ancient Roman Gardens_.

I expect my original goal of keeping it simple may get more complicated. I'm already lusting after a rock garden...

Do you think a Priapus statue would upset the folks at the Salvation Army house next door? I was thinking I would try to find a small subtle Priapus, but Priapus probably doesn't go for small or subtle.
I understand that it is nesting season, and I'm okay with you choosing my aerie as the site for your home.

What I am not okay with is the constant tapping and scrabbling, which I can only guess is the bird equivalent of redecorating.

And at 5 a.m.?

You're like the Felix Unger of avians.

Chill out, or there will be consequences.

I still have plenty of shiny Mylar tape left, and I'm going to get it from the Closet of Mysteries *right now*..


Mar. 9th, 2016 02:07 pm
It's a little disconcerting to be reading about Lovecraft while something is scratching at the wall two inches from my head.

I'm almost positive it's just a bird building a nest, but isn't it just like a Lovecraft character to blithely reason away weird and ominous signs of the supernatural?
I have a hook-handled white cane, which is my preferred form, but the elastic is stretched out, which makes the bottom shaft somewhat flaccid (for some reasons, men always seem to sound a bit perturbed when they point this out to me, go figure).

Anyway, I have a golf handle cane which I am willing to use for parts; has anyone done something like this? is it worth taking the newer one apart?

Alternatively, the elastic seems to be basic bungie cord; does anyone know the specifics on what I should be looking for?

FYI, I tried searching on white cane supplier Web sites for repair kits, but the elastic only seems to be available in bulk, $100 a spool, and I have a lifetime's supply of new cane tips still in their plastic (is this the blind equivalent to wire hangers? because I'm pretty certain cane tips are replicating in the dark corners of my closets).
While trying to find a folky version of this song, I came across this magnificient version, which begins with one girl playing, and ends up being one of the most fun versions I've heard
The title is _The Far Forests_, and I found it in digital format on the library for the blind Web site. It's a digital recording made from an audio recording, done in mono, and in the '70s, so I'm getting a paper version to scan.

About the book: These are possibly Aiken's darkest stories, darker even than _The Green Flash_, my other favorite collection, which probably accounts for why this collection doesn't get a lot of love. It's definitely not for read aloud to children, but would probably appeal to young adults who like spooky stories. Another aspect to these stories which probably account for it being one of her scarcest to be found collections is that many of the stories feature middle-aged or just plain old characters. A number of these older characters (who, in the way of Aiken stories, may or may not possess uncanny abilities) is that they are very content with their definitely eccentric lives, something which is hard to find in modern fiction. I love the way these people with their small magicks go about making the world, not dramatically, but quietly, a slightly better world to live in.

My favorite story, which I have described to other Aiken fans, none of whom ever remembered reading it (doesn't that make you crazy? it's as if you are a character in a Borges story, reading a slightly different edition with one extra story no one else has ever laid eyes upon; okay, that actually sounds pretty cool when I describe it that way)...
Anyway, my favorite story is about a young woman who sits in a storefront window and is paid to destroy any paper documents that the customer wishes to get rid of (yes, this is before paper shredders ertr a commonplace office item). This story is more of a screwball comedy--there are a couple of thse in this collection--and the title is "Safe and Soundproof."

so, ta-da! There you have it, my long lost Joan Aiken story collection, soon to be scanned and available for sharing.
You know what a bad blind person I am, so I'm late coming to the news that Stevie Wonder made a blind joke, but I'm thrilled to be reminded what a cool guy Stevie is. I caught him a few years back on the Spike Awards, which is an award show for games, and, before announcing the winner (probably of the best game soundtrack), Stevie said something tot he effect of "In the future, I hope more of these games will be accessible," and the next day game boards freaked out, and all I could do was shake my head and say, "What were you thinking when you invited a blind genius to be on your show talking about games of which not one could he play?"

Stevie's braille joke also remeinded me that, back in the day when VHS was a thing, I would label my tapes in braille, which made my sighted friends crazy, especially when I would say, "What? You can't access that? Welcome to my world."

So, while I was searching for a video of Stevie doing the braille thing (in hopes of converting it to mp3), I came across the "Stevie Wonder isn't really blind" conspiracy. WTF? You crazy sighted kids: Stevie isn't too cool to be blind; Stevie is too cool to be sighted. This reminded me of my college days, when people often said to me, "But you're not blind-blind," and I would have to say no, I was as blind as they came, really, I had removable eyeballs, fercrissakes.

Also, question of the day: what is it called when a word is repeated for emphasis? I'm reminded of this trickster god I like, whose name is "Old Old Coyote."



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