Spiders working together?
Apparently, there is a group of spiders... working TOGETHER... to build a gimongus web to catch all the mosquitoes over a lake.
Spiders should never work together. They should eat mosquitoes and then eat each other.
And repeat.
Stupid spiders.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Traveling
I'm about to start traveling again, this Sunday I'm going to Florida for 4 days and the week after, I'm going to San Antonio for 3 days with an overnight stay in Atlanta for a meeting on the 4th day.
Whew.
I love to travel, I love to fly, but I hate having to go to the airport to do so. I am definitely getting my own plane and airstrip if I am ever able to afford it. I have gotten to the point where I must wear pants that don't need a belt, flip flops for easy shoe removal (although I hate walking on that floor in my bare feet), nothing metal (except underwire) and always remember to take the scissors out of my computer bag. Every time I fly, I have to check to see if knitting needles are still allowed on flights, but I take the ultimate number of bags (3) allowed on board every time which makes inspection a bit harder.
It's always funny watching people trying to walk with all their carry on luggage still haphazard, trying to close their computer cases and put their belts on simultaneously. The worst, though, is traveling with young children. Children can be a joy, don't get me wrong, but trying to handle young kids ( not only can smell the fear and despair of those waiting in line, but who are also so empathetic to that depression they will let out their own wails on behalf of the beleaguered, I-decided-to-travel-with-something-bigger-than-standard line waiters) and also trying to handle a stroller, a baby/car seat, and your own carry on luggage while simultaneously mentally nudging the two people pushing their mother through and deciding to stop for a chat.
Flying is beautiful, being so high up, I don't even worry about my normal fear of heights. I love going to different places and I can't wait to go to San Antonio. I look forward to the time when I'm traveling for the love of traveling, my husband by my side, as we explore the world together.
In an RV.
With chunnels to everywhere.
Whew.
I love to travel, I love to fly, but I hate having to go to the airport to do so. I am definitely getting my own plane and airstrip if I am ever able to afford it. I have gotten to the point where I must wear pants that don't need a belt, flip flops for easy shoe removal (although I hate walking on that floor in my bare feet), nothing metal (except underwire) and always remember to take the scissors out of my computer bag. Every time I fly, I have to check to see if knitting needles are still allowed on flights, but I take the ultimate number of bags (3) allowed on board every time which makes inspection a bit harder.
It's always funny watching people trying to walk with all their carry on luggage still haphazard, trying to close their computer cases and put their belts on simultaneously. The worst, though, is traveling with young children. Children can be a joy, don't get me wrong, but trying to handle young kids ( not only can smell the fear and despair of those waiting in line, but who are also so empathetic to that depression they will let out their own wails on behalf of the beleaguered, I-decided-to-travel-with-something-bigger-than-standard line waiters) and also trying to handle a stroller, a baby/car seat, and your own carry on luggage while simultaneously mentally nudging the two people pushing their mother through and deciding to stop for a chat.
Flying is beautiful, being so high up, I don't even worry about my normal fear of heights. I love going to different places and I can't wait to go to San Antonio. I look forward to the time when I'm traveling for the love of traveling, my husband by my side, as we explore the world together.
In an RV.
With chunnels to everywhere.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Madeleine L'Engle
I remember the first time I met Meg Murray. She was a gangly girl, smart and out of place because of it. I remember wrapping myself within myself as I read about this girl with whom I could relate. I wanted a little brother like Charles Wallace and parents that believed in me because they could see, right now, how great I was even if I wasn't popular, or pretty, or smart. I lived low self esteem and Madeleine L'Engle wrote about it as if she not only understood it, but had the heart to explain it to all of us poor confused girls so that we had the hope that one day we would not be so gangly, we would love a boy like Calvin O'Keefe who would be smart and see us for who we could be, not how we were. Madeleine L'Engle made unicorns tangible beings to us, showed us the pain of growth and to this day, I cannot think of seraphim and cherubim without being reminded of L'Engle's creation.
Madeleine L'Engle took me to a supernatural world, my first introduction to science fiction that led to Asimov and Heinlein and Bradbury and then eventually to shows like Firefly and Battlestar Galactica simply because she helped me like a little bit of science fiction in my well told tales. She was the introduction to a great cast of characters and a great way of looking at myself that that I revisit and re-read time and time again.
In 2000, I finally bought my own copies of the first three books of the Murray series after reading them from the library all my life. They were beautiful with a cover I hadn't seen before nor haven't since. The covers were unique and mystical, the way I've always remembered the feel of the stories, the way I'd always thought of Madeleine L'Engle.
I cried when I read today that Madeleine L'Engle had died. It surprised me, but the impact she had on my young self was much stronger than I realized.
Rest in peace, Madeleine L'Engle. Rest In Peace.
Madeleine L'Engle took me to a supernatural world, my first introduction to science fiction that led to Asimov and Heinlein and Bradbury and then eventually to shows like Firefly and Battlestar Galactica simply because she helped me like a little bit of science fiction in my well told tales. She was the introduction to a great cast of characters and a great way of looking at myself that that I revisit and re-read time and time again.
In 2000, I finally bought my own copies of the first three books of the Murray series after reading them from the library all my life. They were beautiful with a cover I hadn't seen before nor haven't since. The covers were unique and mystical, the way I've always remembered the feel of the stories, the way I'd always thought of Madeleine L'Engle.
I cried when I read today that Madeleine L'Engle had died. It surprised me, but the impact she had on my young self was much stronger than I realized.
Rest in peace, Madeleine L'Engle. Rest In Peace.
Friday, September 07, 2007
L'Oeuf
I've become fascinated with eggs. I never used to eat them. Even as I think back to then, I can feel the familiar reaction to eggs I always had.
They made me want to throw up.
They were slimy and gloppy and moved funny in my mouth. I could only stomach eggs if they were cooked very hard as an omelet full of meats and cheese. I would move the egg and eat the meat and cheese all melted together and if I also happened to get some egg as well, well then, that was alright.
A few months ago, I decided I was going to try a fried egg. Sunny side up.
What in the world????
But I wanted to try it, so I cooked it. I cooked it too hard, the heat was too high and the yolk was still runny, but I loved it. Just a little salt and pepper and I was on my way. I've been eating eggs sunny side up and over easy ever since. I had a couple of scrambled eggs, but they held no appeal. Over time I'm learning how to get it just right. Just the right amount of butter, just the right amount of heat. I'm certainly not an expert for anyone but myself, but the current incarnation of my egg definitely beats out its first appearance.
The different tastes that exist in their non scrambled forms is enthralling. The egg whites that soak up the butter, the yolks that hint at their hard boiled taste with something a bit more earthy underneath, together forming a taste that, for the first time in the 4 years since I started eating eggs, makes me excited about eggs again. Also for the first time, I don't require cheese, which is the thing that saved the scrambled egg for me.
I was online and I read about The Egg. I can't wait to try it.
They made me want to throw up.
They were slimy and gloppy and moved funny in my mouth. I could only stomach eggs if they were cooked very hard as an omelet full of meats and cheese. I would move the egg and eat the meat and cheese all melted together and if I also happened to get some egg as well, well then, that was alright.
A few months ago, I decided I was going to try a fried egg. Sunny side up.
What in the world????
But I wanted to try it, so I cooked it. I cooked it too hard, the heat was too high and the yolk was still runny, but I loved it. Just a little salt and pepper and I was on my way. I've been eating eggs sunny side up and over easy ever since. I had a couple of scrambled eggs, but they held no appeal. Over time I'm learning how to get it just right. Just the right amount of butter, just the right amount of heat. I'm certainly not an expert for anyone but myself, but the current incarnation of my egg definitely beats out its first appearance.
The different tastes that exist in their non scrambled forms is enthralling. The egg whites that soak up the butter, the yolks that hint at their hard boiled taste with something a bit more earthy underneath, together forming a taste that, for the first time in the 4 years since I started eating eggs, makes me excited about eggs again. Also for the first time, I don't require cheese, which is the thing that saved the scrambled egg for me.
I was online and I read about The Egg. I can't wait to try it.
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