counting crowds

From an AP snippet quoted in the Omaha World Herald: "Journalists estimated there were about 20,000 protesters, but pro-Chávez lawmakers said there were far fewer." I've always wondered how people estimate crowds. Sentences like the one I've just quoted seem pretty common in newspaper articles involving crowds, and particularly about protest crowds, since, of course, the number of people attending is itself a political statement. A little web research reveals there's really no good way to estimate them. There are various methods, but none without significant detractors, or at least significant margins of error (e.g., 20%). The major problem seems to be density--there's no way to evaluate density accurately in all parts of the crowd (unless they're seated in an auditorium or stadium or similar arena). This article from the Seattle Times outlines the problem pretty well.

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doo doo dooby doo good thing

As many of you know, by winning National Public Radio's game show, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, you can get eminent voice Carl Kasell on your answering machine. Here are some of the ones he's done. (You have to play them on Realplayer, I think.) A lot of them are boring/stupid/probably annoying to listen to more than once. I am trying to think of what a good one would be. Maybe just having him say "Hi, this is Anne! please leave a message." or something simple.

Also, here's this weird coffee beer. As MH has pointed out, it might be hard to know when to drink it.



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mountains levelled

(This is mostly an excuse to use the webdings font.)
Mountain #1: the recycling in my laundry room. a
Mountain #2: thank you notes. a
Mountain #3: dirty dishes. a
Mountain #4: laundry. l
Mountain #5: the dining room table.a (mostly)

I'm slowly spanking this place into shape. My birthday provided a lot of inspiration, actually. Among the wondrous bounty I received are a painting, two framed photographs, and a big map plus I bought myself a birthday painting too. They need hanging, and it seems shameful to hang them in the box of clutter that is my house. I'm really truly attempting to clear out some of that silly detritus (a nod to MVA and the faraway days at 7 College Ave.) that I've been hauling and storing for years and years. I'll never be a minimalist, but I can try to avoid being trashist too. I'm too tired to think of what kind of ist that leaves me. Maybe a goodist?

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cherry

I made my first appearance ever "in front" of an Article 3* Judge today, this very day. For family reasons, my colleague was unexpectedly out of the office this morning, and, well, he had a hearing at 11:30 to terminate our client's grandparents' guardianship of her child. Attorney #23665 to the rescue! I appeared by telephone (hence the quotation marks around "in front") and sounded like the utter newbie I am, but I didn't screw it up and our client has regained custody of her child. (It would have been hard to screw it up--the other side agreed and did most of the talking.)

*An Article 3 judge is one provided for in Article 3 of the Constitution. Administrative law judges, such at those that adjudicate social security hearings, are not Article 3 judges. They are part of the executive branch, and besides, they have nowhere near the power and prestige, and they wear suits instead of robes (at least the one I've seen did).

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make this recipe as soon as you possibly can

No joke. You got to do it while there are still sugar pumpkins in the grocery stores (they're much smaller than the carving kind).

It's called Kaddo Bourani, it's Afghani, they serve it at my favorite restaurant in Boston, Helmand, and here's the recipe. The dish's got a pumpkin wedge base, with a cold mint-garlic yogurt sauce and a meat sauce. If you don't eat meat, make it with TVP. I've tried it both ways, and while the meat version is better, the TVP version is still amazing. You might add a little more oil, since the meat contributes part of the fat. The pumpkin prep takes quite a while, but it is really truly worth it. You could probably cut down on the sugar in the pumpkin a little, and I didn't happen to have a tomato when I made the TVP sauce the second time, so I used a red pepper and it was still delicious. I also had coriander seeds instead of ground coriander, so I ground some up with my mortar and pestle. I highly recommend doing this, if you have the seeds and M&P. It just takes a few seconds to grind and it smells heavenly. Oh, and I used olive oil and grapeseed oil instead of corn oil and that was fine too. I think the next time I make it I'm going to bake the pumpkins a little first so that they're easier to peel. And then freeze it so I can have it in the coming winter deeps.

Let me know if you make it.

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p.s. I ate mine too fast to take any pictures, so that picture is from the site with the recipe.

test

testing out that google reader sharer over there. hope it works out ok.
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on the russian caravan of a cold wet saturday

A long walk with Lulu on paths following the South Platte River, stippled with stops to pull the evil burrs from prancing feet, followed by:

A toot around town, garage saling (no spectactular finds, alas) and finally tasting the homemade cinnamon rolls from Skelly's Inn, complete with sign rather insistently reading "This establishment is a smoking area in its entirety." It makes one feel as if one is not only disobeying the rules by not smoking, but is utterly unwelcome as a nonsmoker. Venturing into the entirely smoking Skelly's for even 10 minutes to await my donut's cinnamoning seems to triple the mental and physical exertion required to stop there. Something about the smoke's complete permeation of an establishment engaged to feed people boggles me. Nevertheless, the homemade baked goods receive high praise, and in this town of little-to-no-homemade-baked-goods and in-general-less-than-stellar eating opportunities, I felt I must give them a go. I had tried to get my hot little hands on a Skelly's cinnamon roll twice before, only to find them sold out (the most believable kind of high praise). I now know that the homemade donuts are better--less goo overdo. Anyway, this toot, followed by:

Endless tea drinking, a long-overdue return to reading, and possibly a little sewing. No cleanings or sortings or puttings-away, if possible. If possible. And let this be the end of my computering for the day.

Ciao.

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"it's first and ten with 20 yards to go"

I went to my first high school football game in, oh, say, 13 years tonight. Unfortunately, the NP Bulldogs (or 'Dawgs, as they're more commonly called) spent a lot of their time with 20 yards to go, usually as a result of "illegal procedures" (a fine term that leaves much to the imagination). The Dawgs are now 4-4, while the Kearney Bearcats are now 8-0. I asked the friendly folks (unbelievably friendly--by the end, Mr. Folks asked me if I had gotten to know people in NP, and I made some vague reply, and he then asked if I had someone to call if my car wouldn't start, just to make sure I did) sitting in front of me if they knew what a bearcat was (I didn't). At first they were both like, yeah, it's like a bobcat--but then I asked if they had ever heard of one outside the context of Kearney sports, and both admitted not. But here it is, people, the fearsome bearcat:


You'd think this lil' beastie could hardly stand up to a 'Dawg. For comparison, here is a bulldog:



Well, not so, friends, not so. Turns out, that bearcat, she's a vicious fighter that can throw amazing passes, catch them, and tackle anything. Hats off to the Fightin' Bearcats' fightin' ways. (For good times, search google images for bulldog. In the photographs, the bulldogs all look pained, bemused, or sleepy. In the drawings, they all wear spiky collars and seem to be about to rip something to shreds.)

It was the last home game of the season, so I guess that's it for the Friday night lights. I might try to catch a volleyball game or a basketball game later in the season. Mr. and Mrs. Folks were fake-insulted when I innocently asked if NP had a basketball team (it wasn't mentioned on the program, which talked about lots of other teams). Anyway, it does. Go 'Dawgs.

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being

Why I like the North Platte Telegraph: a front-page article titled "School libraries being transformed" is continued on page 2 under the header "BEING, from page A1".

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news to me

Things I have learned in the past month:

• having one's hands/feet/jeans/chin licked is not as gross as it appears to people who have never had dogs.
• picking up poop in plastic bags swiftly becomes routine and also not as gross as it seems at first.
  
• those little burrs in grass this time of year that are merely annoying to people are vicious to dogs. they get caught everywhere, but most evilly between toes. I am considering making Lulu some felted knitted booties to protect her from the lurking burrs. I doubt she would tolerate them, however.
  
• dogs have toes.
  
• processed (don't know how) bull penises are the most preferred chewing implement (by Lulu at least).
• processed bull penises do not become less gross with familiarity. once chewed upon, they have a disgusting smell, pallor, wetness, stickyness, and texture.
• I have a growing, already-very-strong, loathing for irresponsible dog owners.
• it is very hard to tell when my clients are lying to me.
• I dislike suspecting that my clients are lying to me.
• an amazing number of poor people (in America even!) do not have phones.
• an amazing number of poor people somehow live on no income at all (or so they tell me, and they can't all be lying).
• Thus far, my limits are taxed more by my job's aspect of general life manager/problem-solver than by its truly legal aspects.

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