2. Today I came *this* close to eating a spider. A big one, too. It was on the other side of a blackberry that I had just popped into my mouth. " !!! That does not feel like a blackberry!! Phutph!" Note to self: inspect all sides of blackberies before eating.
3. [Yes I know I said "two things". No such luck.] I am very paranoid. There's no room in my profile for this [darn thousand-word limit!] but I thought you ought to know it. Especially in the health realm. Somebody coughs in a public place and I will unobtrusively but swiftly move away. Hand-washing is epic. I don't really care about some things, though, like sharing food with a friend or hugging a goat. Or drinking raw milk or undercooked eggs. But don't even get me started on the dangers of raw meat!
Another little quirk of mine is personal safety. That was aquired this spring when I hung with some very self-defense-oriented peopleses [don't you love the word "peeps"? so handy], which really increased my awareness. I'm going down the street with a friend in the evening and I pop my head slightly around the corner of shop-doorways before going by. I do that inside buildings, too. You never know who's going to be waiting there. When I pass a dubious [which in my book means anyone bigger than me] personage, my near elbow is slightly out and raised, ready for a swift defense.
I'm taking a self-defense class the October. I took a one-night class last spring and I came out of there and punched a telephone-pole [wooden, of course].
Check out the cute lil maters! They have noses!
I stole a tag from Kendra Logan: the finish-the-sentence tag.
I like: the Betsy-Tacy books [more about that further down]
I like: herb teas
I like: pasta in any form
I like: being around people who are younger and sillier than myself [in moderation]
I like: making movies [I really need to post about that!!]
I like: using brackets instead of parentheses. It started with my messy handwriting, because a parentheses looks exactly like a C. And it's easier in typing, too, because you don't have to press the Shift key.
I like: Big River restaurant
I like: the way Borders Books smells [coffee and paper]
I like: talking with somebody when you know exactly what they mean, when everyone else doesn't
I like: the words epic and awesome, which I overuse
-clothing that's not cotton
[forget all the "I loathe"s. Plain list.]
-being sick [don't we all]
-not being able to use the right muscles in ballet class [grrr!]
-news-people and general populations that treat Obama like a father-figure, a super-star, or a national treasure
-anything pink-and-shiny-and-girly [for the most part]
-glitter [I can't stand the stuff. Yuck. And as for girls using the stuff as make-up, I've got just nothing to say to that.]
-the male element which allows their Fruit of the Looms to show above their skinny jeans
-big cities, especially Detroit
-when you're talking on the phone with somebody and the connection is bad and you can't understand what they just said but you hate to ask them to repeat it
-clay soil!!! Specially when it's early spring and you tilled it too early and it clumps on the bottom of your shoes
-cleaning supplies/make-up/shampoo etc full of dangerous chemicals, and when people won't take a moment to consider how toxic these things are.
I tag anybody who wants to do this! Leave a comment to let me know if you did it, I'd love to read it! :)
Oh yes, I said I'd talk about the Betsy-Tacy books. Total chick-flick material. Set in the early 1900s, about three girls called [you guessed it] Betsy, Tacy and Tib. The four high-school books are my favorites. That's what high-school is supposed to be like!
Mushy, in spots. Very enjoyable and humorous. Anything by Maud Hart Lovelace is good, actually.
Hmm. The sky is darkening up and it's supposed to rain tomorrow. Lovely, for all the Grange members [me amongst them] who are supposed to be having a work party over there tomorrow morning. Not to mention rehearsal at 1 pm.
Also: Kendra is holding an event on Sep. 26 called Followers Say, at her second blog Carpe Noctem, where all you interested viewers will be allowed to post for one day on varied political/philosophical-type topics. Check it out!! Looks fun.
Ah yes, time for a memory, as requested by two beloved voters in my latest poll [please vote].
Teehee. "We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a memory, straight from Bethie's unlimited supply thereof. "
Last December. I had just got my lovely green cloak and was wearing it with pride and joy.
My grandma had just broken her hip, lamentably. She was in the hospital just before Christmas. We became especially ticked off at the medical staff, for one reason and another. She couldn't even go in for surgery for nearly two days, and there were other, worse, incidents. Suffice it to say we were glad when she was able to get home [the nursing home where she stayed briefly was even worse].
Just wandering, here.
Anyway, my dad and I went into south-town one day, as I had to deliver some dance-instructions to one of my worthy cohorts in preparation for the movie. South-town, as it's known around here, is a very interesting place. Poorer, in places, than the rest of my fairly affluent town. But nicer too, in parts. If I had to live actually in town, South-town is the place I'd choose.
Down by the river there are various organic homesteads.
We do have trouble finding places down there, however. My dad, who delivered mail way back in the day, says he'd always have a few letters left over and would never know where they belonged. We had issues finding a place on the garden tour there, last year. And it proved nearly impossible to re-find the cob [mud] building with three whimsical little pigs sculpted on it [I told you it was a cool place]. Yes, we have our own Bermuda Triangle right here in the old home-town.
Then we attempted to find Mushroom's house one day last fall, going by the phone-book. Mushroom, as he's fondly known, is one of my dad's friends, a distinguished seed-breeder and organic gardener who abandoned a degree in biochemistry [I believe] to live in a little house in South-town, with a room entirely filled with seeds in hand-labeled packets, and a formiddible collection of botany books, and that's not even mentioning the gardens. All kinds of fruit, vegetables, flowers. The marigolds are amazing, three feet high. His daughter and son-in-law have a little [and occasional, alas] stand at the farmers' market, where they sell neon-colored flower boquets and cherry tomatoes and marigold wreaths and Long-pod Major Fava Bean seeds. In other words, awesomeness incarnate.
Yes, well, anyway, we had a hard time finding the place. There was one place [with a tin roof, and a natural, happy, hippy look to the landscaping] that looked possible, but proved not to be it.
The actual place is a large sprawling house [warm and dark, and fragrant with soup, the night we were there] with surrounding yard. Winter squash and garlic drying in the porch, cats everywhere, apples and pears under cover in the backyard. Anyway, we went in, and chatted, and bought seeds, including one for an eating pea with purple flowers.
But that was not what I started out to talk about. As I said, on the day before Christmas we were trying to find this other house in south-town. We'd previously searched with nothing to go on but the phone-book address [I couldn't get in touch by phone] and that involved me going up to the wrong house once. The place is set back considerably from the road, and can only be reached by a little bark-chip path winding between garden beds. No cars allowed: right in the middle, where it would be tempting to drive up, is a TV antenna, of all things, lying on the ground. I finally did get there, cloak wrapped around me, and delivered the minuet instructions.
I've got a feeling that Memory Day [another Kendra idea] will be no hardship!
And what do you think of the new [albeit probably short-lived] header?