This book is a follow-up to the memoir of Alan Zweibel that I posted last week. In that book, Zweibel talked about a little book he wrote about his late best friend, Gilda Radner, who died of ovarian cancer at a very young age. He said the whole book was dialog that just came to him after she passed away. I was interested.
The cover was put together by Zweibel’s wife and an artist they commissioned for the painting.
So, I set out to get a copy. That was harder than it might have been, because Bunny Bunny: Gilda Radner: A Sort of Love Story (a book with TWO colons) is out of print, having passed its prime in 1994, I guess. Luckily I selected a reputable vendor of used books and got a copy in pretty good shape for just $7.
Once again. Zweibel made me laugh a lot, but I was also touched by the little stories he chose to tell. It’s a wonderful tribute to an amazing friendship. I had to read some passages aloud to the family, so they could enjoy them, too.
I got a real kick out of the illustrations, as well. They are simple line drawings by the artistically impaired author, but they are also really sweet and convey the essence of the stories perfectly.
Here, they have taken a taxi in New York City. I left in a snippet of dialog to show you the format.
So, I’m pretty sure none of you are going to go out and buy this book, but if you want to borrow it from me, see me after people can meet up more easily!
Mexican hats!
Enjoy some flowers. They’re left over from yesterday’s photo expedition.
It’s a-floodin’ outside, so I’ll blog some. Yesterday, Chris and I left our respective work a little early (even though my coworkers really wanted me to keep going and I stayed on calls until long after I got back to the ranch), because Mary was bringing a portable horse pen and some jumps that Sara and I bought from her. No, I do not expect Apache will jump over anything.
[Pretend I wasn’t too hot to take a picture and that you see some green metal and wood.]
After the heavy lifting on that project was over (we had enough help that it went fast) Chris had time to work on ranch projects. He hauled out the backhoe and worked to finish the mini detention pond with ditch that we’ve been working on for a while.
Driving the big equipment.
Kathleen, the dogs, and I enjoyed watching it, very much. He made the pond bigger, tapering it toward the road. That pissed off a lot of 🐸 frogs. We enjoyed watching them.
Frogs wonder what the heck is going on.
The dogs went crazy running around in the dirt and swimming in the pond. We laughed a lot.
Penney swims.
Then came the fun part. Chris made a ditch that will take the water from this pond to the pond by our driveway. That solves a drainage issue we had. It was also great dog fun.
Carlton is trying to look innocent.
Penney decided to “help” with the digging and vigorously applied herself to widening a spot.
I’m helping.
As he went further, everyone supervised. I didn’t get any after pictures, but I’ll say it ended up smooth and nice.
Penney, Kathleen, Gracie and Carlton performing quality control.
Testing It Out
Chris has great timing. Last night a HUGE storm came through, so the new drainage got a workout. Actually, it’s still getting it, which is why my photos are through the window.
You can sorta see the ditch running along the driveway.
We are pleased to see water heading to the front pond in an orderly fashion. It’s working!!
Lots of puddles out there.
All the dirt piled along the side of the pond is slated for another project. Kathleen and I want to plant a palm tree 🌴 or put native plants around the finished pond, with a bench for watching our animals. I’ll have an interesting yard some day!
Wandering around the ranch this evening a theme for a photo essay came to me. We have so many river willow trees and so many wildflowers, why not showcase them in a photo essay! Enjoy.
Willow, thistle, and Mexican hats. Pink evening primrose, stream, willow. Thistle, willowIndian blankets, willows, pond My favorite. Vetch and old bent willow.
Yep, it’s one of those nature posts. I don’t have anything to rant about today. It’s probably because my day started out so nicely, having coffee with Lee on the back porch (usually I rush off to the office, but I had a sinus issue). Looking out at the lawn, Lee remarked that he was glad his brother hadn’t mowed yesterday.
The humble wildflower makes the lawn glow.
There were hundreds of dandelions in the field, with their little faces all turned toward the morning sun, or where it would be if it were less cloudy. More rain is coming. Remember, most of the flowers in our field are actually “false dandelion” (Pyrrhopappus pauciflorus) and not the common dandelion (Taraxacum officinale).
False dandelion
Common dandelion, so yummy to chickens
The chickens love both varieties, actually. The highlight of every evening for me is feeding the hens dandelion greens from my hands.
Yellow always pops on a gray day.
While I was out there checking out flowers, I saw this really great spiderweb. If you look closely, you’ll see how big it actually is, but I was drawn to the center, where it looks like weaving. I think I know where the term “orb weaver” comes from now. Too bad the spider is in back, so I can’t identify her. You can tell she is the size of the “woven” area, though.
We have lots and lots of wasps this time of year. Mostly they just fly a few inches above the grass looking for something to eat, or posing as bird food, depending on your point of view. These blue mud daubers sure are beautiful, though.
And just to clarify: No “murder hornets” live in Texas, so it’s okay to get this close.
A Very Humble Fly
I’ll leave you with what I saw when I came downstairs for lunch. This is one big fly. It’s not as big as a horsefly, but it’s big. Eric in our Master Naturalist class says it’s an Archytas. iNaturalist agreed. I just think it looks really, really, prickly and like it would bite. One thing I dislike is fly bites. Shudder.
It’s sitting on a mop. Look at its cool bronze eyes and greenish body. With bristles. Lots of bristles.
Well, I got curious, so I looked up more information on the Archytas flies. It turns out their larvae are parasites, and they often grow in moths, beetles, and bugs that harm crops. So, they are often used as natural pesticides! How about that? I loved this quote by the person who wrote the article I read:
This tachinid fly is one of my favorites. It’s a huge, hairy fly with a blue metallic abdomen. I frequently encounter it nectaring on flowers and mucking about amongst the vegetation, never on offal or other nasty things like many of the more disgusting fly varieties. I would not allow just any fly to walk my skin with impunity; Archytas is just, well, special. (My affection is probably misplaced, and this bugger is just as filthy and revolting as all the others, but what can I say? One has to find something pleasant to think about.)
This scientist really loves their flies! By the way, the flies are named for “Archytas of Tarentum (c. 428-350 B.C.) – Greek statesman, military commander, leading Pythagorean mathematician and philosopher; often called the father of mathematical mechanics.” He also invented the screw and the pulley. There’s a crater on the Moon named after him, as well. Again, huh.
I think I found my favorite fly. Humble, yet lovable. And oddly beautiful.
That Chris, he needs a break from constant caulking, which is the never-ending phase of the Pope renovation he’s on now. Every bit of trim needs some caulk. Ugh. I’m sure glad he does takes some breaks, because that means we get birdhouses!
The bird house will get a perch and a lovely fake bird. I ordered a bunch of potential residents to try out.
Today’s house is at an extremely awkward corner where I guess we could have put some kind of decorative finial or something. But a birdhouse is way more fun and adds quite a bit of whimsy to the project. Chris knows I like birds and Kathleen likes that kind of thing, so we are not complaining a bit.
Classy molding
Basking in that shiny ceiling
I like how today’s house has molding on the bottom, to make it look like it just grew there. Hmm, where will the next house be? (I know, but I’m not telling). I got a vision of little kids visiting and being sent off to find all the birdhouses in the building. That would be fun.
Another project has gotten started, too. The water heater is getting its cabinet in the main bathroom. It’s going to fit quite nicely in the corner, and there will be some storage added, which will be good in a downstairs with no, zero, zilch closets.
Closing in on the water heater
Wait, was there a water heater here?
I believe the plan is that the compartment can be easily unscrewed for access, since it won’t happen too often once it’s hooked up. Ooh, what an exciting day that will be for all of us who wash dishes at Hearts Homes and Hands!
Breaking with Butterflies
I needed a break after finishing yet another slog of a project, so I walked around the block by the Hermit Haus. I turned by the Baptist Church, because I was wondering if the fancy New Gold hybrid lantana that’s planted all around its borders attract as much wildlife as the native ones in my tiny garden.
The answer was a resounding yes. There were skipper butterflies skipping all over the plants, as well as quite a few duskywings. I saw another variegated frittilary, but didn’t get its picture.
Duskywing
Skipper
Big wasp enjoying a lantana flower
I also saw a very large wasp, which reminded me of an even bigger one, the cicada killer (they are so cool, but I haven’t seen any this year). This one appeared to be a Guinea paper wasp, judging from its stripe pattern and large antennae. But, I could be wrong and it could be a regular ole yellowjacket, which we have plenty of around here. I’ll find out on iNaturalist, I’m hoping.
It really does me a lot of good to take little walks and outdoor breaks, which are just fine to do in an uncrowded place like here. Since we are getting more and more coronavirus cases here, I’m not going anywhere crowded right now!
This morning, Lee and I were chatting about the things that make noise in our bedroom. The main “culprit” is our beautiful ceiling fan. In the last year or so it’s started making noises. And often it sounds like it’s “talking.”
The fan in question. This was taken 4 years ago. We have art and furniture now.
It says things like “wilderness wilderness” and “this is Fred this is Fred” and “harmony bound harmony bound” – all depending on how it’s creaking on a particular day. It’s endlessly entertaining while drinking our morning coffee, but can be annoying if you’re trying to get to sleep.
I got to wondering, do other people have talking machines? I can remember making up words to the windshield wipers and turn signals in past cars. And I know people with LG appliances have made up words to the songs they play at the end of a cycle (the company even has a web page about their songs!), but the fan actually talks. A mystery.
I couldn’t find a photo of my washing machine, but it looks somewhat like this.
My guess (and hey, I used to be a linguist, so it may even be an educated guess) is that our brains prefer to organize sounds into things that are familiar, and the rhythms of the fan sound like speech rhythms, so the brain sticks words in there.
I didn’t find any research on this topic. On the other hand…
Wormy Head
The other great musical mystery is inside my head. It has to be the most deeply embedded earworm in the history of my brain. I have had the song “It’s My Life” by Billy Joel playing for many months (at least since January, since I mentioned it in this blog post). I vaguely remember when it started commenting to someone that the new song in my head wasn’t even one I particularly liked. I guess the Billy Joel in my brain took offense, because he is now omnipresent. Different parts of the song are playing at different times, which is a break.
When I went to learn more about earworms (the name of which is a calque of a German word, Ohrwurm) I was relieved to Learn we all get them.
According to research by James Kellaris, 98% of individuals experience earworms. Women and men experience the phenomenon equally often, but earworms tend to last longer for women and irritate them more.
Yes, I am an irritated woman. The Googles gave me these five ideas to block and earworm. I’ve tried them repeatedly:
Here are five strategies, backed by science.
LISTEN TO THE ENTIRE SONG. Earworms tend to be small fragments of music that repeat over and over (often a song’s refrain or chorus). …
LISTEN TO A “CURE TUNE.” …
DISTRACT YOURSELF WITH SOMETHING ELSE. …
CHEW GUM. …
LEAVE IT ALONE.
These do NOT work for stopping earworms. I laughed when I saw the description of this image is “a lot of lying earplugs.” That’s right, LIARS! Photo by @kinek00 via Twenty20
The NPR article I read said that 90% of people get earworms at least once a week. I’ve come to really like it when some OTHER song shows up for a while! Sadly, “I never said I was a victim of circumstance” usually returns pretty quickly. It looks like I may be in for a long cycle. Harriet Brown, the author of theScientific American article I read that lists lots of ways to get rid of an earworm concludes the article by admitting she has had one for over 30 years and now views it as “the soundtrack for my life.”
Make it go away! Photo by @vivivisuals via Twenty20
Um, I hope I don’t end up like the person who had the longest documented earworm, the murderer Jean Harris.
I didn’t have much time to write today, because this is one of those extra-busy times at work when I forget to take breaks, work through most of lunch, etc. But that’s good. It makes days go fast.
One thing that is different about my work, as it is with a lot of people who work in high tech companies, is all the video meetings. I dearly love getting to see my coworkers, and I enjoy meeting with friends online as well, but it’s hard to do more than a couple of hours a day, so I miss a lot of after-work gatherings.
It might be all the clashing colors that are causing me problems.
My eyes get tired and my ears get worn out both from wearing headphones for so long and from working to understand people with poor connections or who are talking over each other. I keep seeing how weird I look, like how my head is always turned, because my main monitor is to the right of the laptop with the camera. I keep trying to look people in the eye, but when I look at the camera, I can’t even see the person I am trying to look at! (I do find one-on-one meetings easier, especially when you are problem solving and can share screens and such.)
I’m looking at the camera, but I can’t see you.
I had been wondering why this was the case until I ran across this fine Slate article on Zoom call burnout this morning, by Christina Cauterucci. She feels my pain. The title, “I Will Not Be Attending Your Exhausting Zoom Gathering,” explains it all. Many of us can only interact virtually for so long. One reason we get so tired is that we miss a lot of subtle cures, so we end up staring at people trying to pick up when they want to speak, etc. Cauterucci notes:
“Even if you don’t think you miss locking eyes with your loved ones or colleagues, your brain might. Eye contact plays a documented role in successful human communication. One 2017 study from the University of Cambridge found that when infants and adults locked eyes, their brain waves were better able to “synchronize”; a 2019 study from the National Institute for Physiological Sciences in Japan suggests that eye contact primes the brain for empathy. We’re also accustomed to picking up on messages our interlocutors send with their bodies, which give us clues about their comfort level, the direction and intensity of their focus, and whether they’re preparing to speak.”
Slate, May 12, 2020
Another issue she points out that I didn’t realize was an issue before: you don’t get any breaks. People can TELL if you start looking at your phone, reading your email, or otherwise losing focus. Believe me, they notice your fidgeting. I have a couple of people I Zoom with who are constantly throwing their arms in the air, moving around on their chair, and doing stuff. On the other hands, others just sit there, looking perfectly groomed and attentive the whole time. How do they do that?
At least you can still fire up your chat window and ask people, “What they heck are they talking about?” and “Why are they shouting?” I choose to believe people think I’m taking notes. HA HA. Or you can play Zoom Bingo, which got my coworker Karen upset:
I hear every one of these nearly every day. Dog barking is one I am guilty of if I’m at home. Check out my jowls, by the way. I do, over and over every day.
I guess we don’t have much choice. If we want to work virtually, we have to do this, even when a call would probably suffice. Or an email! Hey, let’s use the best tool for the task. That’s a good idea! We are very fortunate to be people who have all these tools, and I hereby acknowledge my privilege.
Honestly, I am grateful to be able to talk to friends, attend meetings for my nonprofit organizations, and see my coworkers. I’m sure it was harder on people during the flu epidemic in the early 20th century! I bet they complained a lot about the quality of their pens and paper, and how many stamps they had to lick!
That reminds me, I’m still writing those letters to people whose addresses I have. Most are just short notes, but it’s fun, especially when I hear back from people. I usually just manage one or two a day. At least hand writing uses different muscles than typing does. Many days my hands ache from typing, even when I use the lovely hemp cream I keep at my desk.
So, what are you doing to stay in touch? I blog. Oh, you noticed.
Our Pope House renovation has always had an avian element. There are often many tree ducks perched on top, and for a while we were sure vultures were nesting in the chimney (non-functional). And we have a very loud mockingbird who likes to sing to us.
And now we have a little bird house on the second floor. Chris has been working hard on the stair landing area, which I’ll show you in photos:
When the electricians installed these lamps, they left big holes, because they had to move them over a bit. Chris tried to fill the holes in with beadboard, but it didn’t look good (so I didn’t take a picture).The stair landing has many interesting angles that had to be filled in, and then the crown molding also took a lot of cutting. Here it’s half done.You can see that Chris made nice trim features for the lamps. He also finished scraping the old windows and cleaned them. They look great now.In the previous picture, Chris’s head was blocking a big hunk of metal that was once something important. He decided to cover it up with a bird house!Another view, showing that all that’s left is finishing off the flooring.Close-up of the little house. We will get a bird for it.
I am pretty darned sure that there will be at least one more bird house in the building. I can’t wait to show you the next one! We’re almost done in the trim department and will soon be sanding things.
I’ve written before about how human cultures cannot resist creating in-groups and out-groups, us vs. them, and all that. The Behave book I read recently had a whole chapter about it. It talked about how half the humans are “wired” to react to life in one way and the other half in another, roughly corresponding to conservative and liberal points of view (called different things in different circumstances). In this, we ARE literally born that way, though our life experiences can certainly have an effect.
In my naively over-educated way, I keep hoping that there are at least some parts of life where we can come together and enjoy each other’s company or deal with important issues while leaving our artificial differences aside. But no.
Meadow pinks are not commie pinko flowers.
I’m truly disappointed that we’ve now degenerated into partisan camps about whether to take precautions against spreading the COVID19 virus. For goodness sake, it’s not stay at home and quake versus run around in big groups hug constantly. People need to take the precautions they find prudent, which may differ depending on their underlying health or risk aversion trait. And some people need to work to survive, so why can’t they do so and take precautions reasonable for them? None of this has anything to do with what color your state is or who you voted for in the last election. Sigh.
What actually got me going on how ridiculous our drive to make ourselves partisan and despise the other side is something I knew about, but didn’t realize how bad it had gotten. Even our beloved fiber arts have become divided. When the Ravelry fiber arts community site enforced their long-standing rule about not having hate speech in its groups (which applies to all members and topics), a sizable group of people left in a huff, so that they could go express their partisan hatred elsewhere. And as they did, they compiled a list of vendors and stores where they would not shop and teachers from whom they would not take classes.
This all made for fodder for analysis and raised interesting questions, for which I don’t have all the answers. Were their knitting patterns hate speech? Were the patterns produced in response hate speech? Hmm.
But the infighting in one of the internet’s most niche communities is about more than just politics and knitting. It’s a glimpse of how otherwise ignored populations—here, predominantly older women—are using online platforms to organize and make their voices heard. And the Ravelry falling-out highlights questions other platforms, like Facebook and Twitter, have tiptoed around: What constitutes hate speech, and how should censorship work online?
Technology Review, March 2020
Okay, they had a right to leave and to be pissed off, just as others had a right to be pissed off at them. However, it was over a year ago. Some of these folks are still trying to bully teachers and others with whom they disagree, and in a turn that seems eerily familiar, they started denying they ever had a list and accusing people of making it up. What? Aren’t they aware of the concept of “screenshots?” Honestly, if I felt censored, I could see why I’d still be upset, but I’d figure going after people who disagree would not be a great way to further my cause.
I made this for someone I disagree with on some political issues. I still love that person!
Why can’t we knit and crochet (and needlepoint, cross stitch and weave, etc.) and share our love of those things with others without dividing ourselves up into warring factions? If someone makes a nice sweater, it’s a nice sweater. If someone’s cross stitch with the F-word on it offends you, don’t make one for yourself. And if you want to make tributes to your favorite president, feel free to do so without engaging in hate speech as well.
I have a relative whose politics aren’t the same as mine. So what. I still think she is an amazingly talented needlepointer. I still like her. If we get together in the future, we’ll probably talk about family matters and crafts, not politics. That’s not so hard.
I think this quilt is cute. I may differ from its maker on some issues, but I like her work.
Honestly, I don’t want to hate or fear others, and it really looks to me like we are being encouraged to do so, so that we don’t focus on actual issues we all have in common, like the need for adequate health care, enough money to feed out families, and a wide variety of educational opportunities for all.
When I find myself feeling a little afraid to go shopping wearing a mask, I need to tell myself that no, most of the people not wearing masks are NOT going to yell at me. I’d also like to be able to go into a craft store and not feel judged for buying rainbow yarn, a Franklin Habit book, or something ridiculous like that.
This rough-fruited buttercup hopes that having “fruit” in its name doesn’t make it a far-left flower.
I’m gonna stubbornly care about everybody, even if I get puzzled by choices some people make or beliefs they hold. Even, gasp, if they hold logically inconsistent beliefs. I want to live in peace with my neighbors and enjoy what we have in common, not get all worked up about differences.
So there. It’s sad, not funny that we can’t cut each other some slack and not call each other horrible names.
Here’s another fine thing that happened this weekend; we added a beautiful new friend to our little herd of equines, Lakota the Perfectly Perfect Palomino Pony. That is NOT his real name (I don’t know what it is, actually), and he is also not a pony, though he is of the smaller quarter horse type.
What’s that? Is that the sound of hooves? We are curious!
Sara, my horse partner and ranch neighbor, and I had debated this for a while, with her doing the most debating with herself. We only have so much pasture and don’t want to overload it. But, I have been promised fencing that will allow horses to hang out on our side of the ranch, which will help a lot with that issue.
Oh my gosh, that’s a horse! Oh my gosh, that’s a donkey!
Besides, Lakota is a horse who deserves to hang out with us. He already knows Spice, since they were owned by the same person for a while, and had spent time together in training, I think. He is beautifully trained by the same Parelli Natural Horsemandhip Method* trainer who trained all the horses we own, Kerri April, and used to belong to one of her family members when he was a fancy equine athlete. This means we don’t have to learn new ways to work with him; he’ll probably help train ME.
Mary and Sara chat as the horses check each other out.
Sara got Spice from her friend Mary when Apache’s occasional lameness issues made it hard for her to to the horsemanship activities she wanted to on him. Mary had found Spice to be a bit much too handle, but she loved Spice very much and only wanted her to go to a fellow Parelli-trained owner. Sara was it! I’ve enjoyed Apache, Sara has enjoyed Spice, and all has been well.
I have a star on my forehead.
Now Mary is moving to the suburbs and won’t be able to keep horses at her place anymore. She sold her others, but there was Lakota,** too old to sell as a consistent mount. She just wanted him to have a happy last few years. We said okay.
Lakota the Practically Perfect Palomino Pone, with the other guys behind him.
Now, Sara had never seen Lakota before, and was just happy to help out, since Mary said she’d pay all his expenses. We had enjoyed our old buddy Pardner very much, and he kept the other horses calm. We had hoped Lakota would be similar.
On Saturday, Mary and a friend brought him in their trailer. Sara took him and brought him down to the horse paddock. I could not believe what I saw. This may be the prettiest horse I ever saw in person, at least conformation-wise. He is built to be a barrel racer or other show horse. Compact and muscular (even at his age). His palomino coat is soft and shiny and somehow smells like vanilla.
At this point, I was saying, is this horse REAL?
Now, I’ve always been told that you get a horse based on personality first and looks second. DANG. He exudes peace and kindness, just like Pardner did! He is wonderful with people. How would he be with horses, we wondered?
This is the next amazing part. He went over to Fiona, who was wandering around looking well-groomed (briefly). They touched noses and sniffed each other. Hey. Hey.
Lakota: You seem okay. Amazing lack of burrs on you, donkey. Fiona: I’ll roll in more burs as soon as I get in the pasture, don’t worry.
When we put him in the pens next to where Apache and Spice were, he was all excited, as were they. He and Apache touched noses, then nibbled each other’s shoulders. Hey. Hey.
Spice jumped up and down and made mare noises. She recognized him! It took her a while to calm down, but soon everyone was standing nose to nose, happy as they could be. We left them alone to get used to each other with a fence separating them.
Hello, hello, hello.
Later that day, I got to ride Apache with the bit and bridle Mary conveniently sold to me, which was the same kind Sara was already teaching him with. I did not fail! I did it (and yes, I know there are other options; this stuff is all in Sara’s hands, not mine, since she’s training him).
I’m okay with this.
We’re all set. Look at those clean reins!
After the ride, when everyone had eaten, we put everyone in the big pasture together. So much joy ensued that it brought happy tears to our eyes (yay, happy tears). They all ran around, then the paints showed Lakota all around the area. Then they suddenly realized they were in the GOOD grass and started eating away.
We’re all together!
It appears that Lakota is in good enough to do trail rides with us, though he has some heat issues and we will have to watch him. In any case, they all bonded really fast and don’t like being separated. That’s not bad. We are grateful to Mary for letting us share this grand old gentleman. He may not be perfect, but his introduction to our herd certainly was!
Hey, good lookin.’
*I do not endorse any particular natural method of training horses. I think they are all good.
**Why we end up with all these horses with Native American tribe names is beyond me.
The Hermits' Rest 