Photo of the day: Tree Three




From Sawyer Camp Trail. I was trying to take a picture of the incredibly cute squirrel but he was camera shy and all I got was the tree.

However, all is not lost. Here's a photo of my favorite warning sign from the animal shelter. Beware the giant squirrel.

Dragon in the....Holy Cats!
Husband participated in NaNoWriMo. I did too, but I only wrote about 12,000 words before the flu turned me insane and I started cranking out total crap.

But he not only finished, he kicked ass. His book Dragon in the Snow is now available at blurb.com and I gotta say, I love it. Now of course I'm bias, but even if I weren't madly in love with him, I'd love the book. It's a page-turning, totally compelling, funny and exciting adventure romp that blew my socks off. I mean I know it sounds insulting to say to someone "I can't believe you wrote this!" but that's what I said.

He's always been a great writer, but being a jazz critic is a lot different than writing fiction. But not only did he write a book in a month, but it's a completely fun book.

I finished the second half in one marathon session today where I couldn't turn the pages fast enough and felt like I was reading a cross between The Thin Man and The Maltese Falcon. I think I hate him.

In Which We Discover that Switzerland is the Capitol of France
I took my mother to the doctor the other day. It was a 4-hour appointment from which I may never recover. We spent a great deal of time in the waiting room and then into other, smaller rooms for various tests, and then back to the waiting room. Unfortunately my mother didn't bring a book and wasn't interested in Sports Illustrated, People, or Highlights, the only magazines they had. Really, what kind of doctor's office has such a limited selection of magazines? In an attempt to distract her I grabbed a People at which point she announced loudly to the office that the cover had a photo of Tiger Woods with a white woman. Thanks mom.

Mom has trouble hearing, so she speaks extra loud. Her mind also has gone west a bit so she rambles, forgets things, and then just plain pulls crap out of thin air. Out of the blue she said "You know my father was born in Switzerland. That's in France." Um, yeah. My grandfather was born in Illinois.

Then she told the office I was looking a little fat, asked if I'd finally found a job, and then told me what I was getting for Christmas. (In case anyone is curious I'm getting a coffee mug with a kitten on it.)

Wrapping and Realization
We have a lot of people to buy presents for. And luckily I'm organized enough (or anal enough) to get it done early. And the reason why I do this is because I always seem to forget someone.

I wrap all my gifts early too so that when I have a nice stack of gifts at hand, I can take stock and realize "oh crap, I forget to get something for X." And, sure enough, I forgot to get something for X. I mean I have something, but when compared to what I got for everyone else, I don't have anything.

And the reason why I have not a whole heck of a lot for X is because I have no idea what to get for X. If I did have an idea, I would have gotten something earlier. And you know, putting it off isn't getting it done. I still have no idea.

The Chia Spongebob is beginning to look better and better.

My Deep Personal Relationship with my Mailman
My mailman and I have a thing going on.

This will be news to Husband.

I don't even know his name, but for some reason he's decided I'm his pal. He calls me by my first name (since it's on my mail it' not hard to figure it out). He comments on how beautiful Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree tm) is. (She sits in the front window watching the world and when he comes up the front steps he says "hi kitty.")

Today as I was leaving to go to the shelter I was just backing out of the driveway and he pulled up and honked at me.

"Lisa, I'm so glad I caught you!" he said, as if we were old friends. He had a few packages for me and I got out of my car and he handed them to me. We chatted about how busy he was and he showed me a picture on his cell phone of the diamond earrings he's giving his wife for Christmas. We talked about football. He noticed the Amazon box and asked me if I read a lot. After asking about Cipher he told me about his dog, Lobo, and pulled out his cell phone again. Cute dog. Meanwhile I'm trying to figure out why this guy has decided we're bonding.

He's a very nice guy. And there's nothing inappropriate about it. I mean he's not hitting on me or anything, he's just chatty and has picked me as his favorite customer on the block.

When Sitcoms Were Funny
Husband and I have recently started watching Barney Miller on "retro night" on WGN. And it's still hilarious.

It all works, the great writing, the impeccable comic timing, the acting and the quirky characters. But it does give rise to the question of when did sitcoms stop being funny. When was the last time you laughed out loud at a modern sitcom?

We watched three episodes tonight and each had at last one huge laugh. And often at the base of it was racial humor. It wasn't racist -- just racial. Something else which has gone by the wayside. I didn't find any of these jokes offensive, jut observational. Like one witness saying "hey the colored guy saw the whole thing and Japanese guy saying I'm colored, he's just black, everyone else is blank." The dead-pan delivery made it funny, but also anachronistic. People don't make jokes based upon skin color ever more. Which is probably for the good. But in some ways political correctness has made humor less biting.

There's no point to this, just rambling at nearly 3 am.