Oh how wrong I can be. Today was a doozy of wrongness. I was wrong about the due date of my student loan payment. I was wrong to think that the New York State Department of Money wouldn't bother to audit a person whose 2006 income totaled approximately $5000. I was wrong to think that if they did, I would not somehow owe them $230. But the real kicker was really when I found out that, contrary to my wrong teen beliefs, algebra really is useful in later life. Turns out that if you want to know how many 41 cent stamps and how many 17 cent stamps you can buy using a $225 check without any cents left over, algebra's your friend. But me and the post office guy, we managed with guess and check. Amazingly, we got it to work out evenly. But it would have been faster w/ algebra, no doubt.
. . .
Nov 20, 2007
Nov 15, 2007
one sixth of 2007
My gallery is taking a much needed break. But that doesn't mean that you and I can't like us some pictures. Here are (parts of) October and November, 2007.
My across-the-street neighbor, an estimated octogenarian retired railroad man, Dale, gave me this dahlia from his beautiful, too-tropical-for-this-climate-so-he-has-to-dig-up-the-bulbs-every-fall garden.
Lulu at SWT's.
SWT, followed by HDL & me, at 9 Mile Prairie, outside of Lincoln.
HDL looking for the bee-striped fly.
Sunrise, sunset. O, how the little babies grow up.
My grandmother's measuring spoons. The plastic is so old they've started to fall apart. Now they are for admiring.
My not-entirely-successful papier-mache bowls.
SWT's very successful and, to me, dearly beloved paint can painting.
A typical sight at chez PDDD. She likes it under the coffee table.
Men in Hats.
RLY getting ready for the fete of the year, the EG-SP nuptials.
TJC ready to go.
The view from the fete.
Some Fs and an R, at said fete.
The pet cemetery in the alley next to my house. I believe Sniffles and Buddy were hamsters (or guinea pigs).
People have these in their yards here in the Platter. If only it were hooked up to some energy-producing machine or well or something.
A few more projects. The first is a scarf TtF and I began last winter. It's not clear what its future is: another skein? or a cast-off?
another project.
My new flag, care of CMcCMcS
A house-warming rubber plant, from the inside. I believe the stripes come from the window screen.
Another birthday present, from JAMcS. You can't see them from here, but sticking in it are lots of flower-shaped pins marking my past.
Yet another new project: a recycled t-shirt rug. I taught myself to crochet for this. It is much easier than knitting.
Morning in the kitchen.
A much-needed November! Party! at the House! of! Lounge!
SWT & friends:
HDL & SWT preparing the party mix.
Me & Tiny Dabbers.
J&J.
Good times.
. . .
My across-the-street neighbor, an estimated octogenarian retired railroad man, Dale, gave me this dahlia from his beautiful, too-tropical-for-this-climate-so-he-has-to-dig-up-the-bulbs-every-fall garden.
Lulu at SWT's.
SWT, followed by HDL & me, at 9 Mile Prairie, outside of Lincoln.
HDL looking for the bee-striped fly.
Sunrise, sunset. O, how the little babies grow up.
My grandmother's measuring spoons. The plastic is so old they've started to fall apart. Now they are for admiring.
My not-entirely-successful papier-mache bowls.
SWT's very successful and, to me, dearly beloved paint can painting.
A typical sight at chez PDDD. She likes it under the coffee table.
Men in Hats.
RLY getting ready for the fete of the year, the EG-SP nuptials.
TJC ready to go.
The view from the fete.
Some Fs and an R, at said fete.
The pet cemetery in the alley next to my house. I believe Sniffles and Buddy were hamsters (or guinea pigs).
People have these in their yards here in the Platter. If only it were hooked up to some energy-producing machine or well or something.
A few more projects. The first is a scarf TtF and I began last winter. It's not clear what its future is: another skein? or a cast-off?
another project.
My new flag, care of CMcCMcS
A house-warming rubber plant, from the inside. I believe the stripes come from the window screen.
Another birthday present, from JAMcS. You can't see them from here, but sticking in it are lots of flower-shaped pins marking my past.
Yet another new project: a recycled t-shirt rug. I taught myself to crochet for this. It is much easier than knitting.
Morning in the kitchen.
A much-needed November! Party! at the House! of! Lounge!
SWT & friends:
HDL & SWT preparing the party mix.
Me & Tiny Dabbers.
J&J.
Good times.. . .
Nov 5, 2007
in which I use a thesaurus and the series of tubes
DMB posed me the following: "what is the word for people who live in north platt [sic.]?"
I had no idea. So I asked my colleagues, both of whom were born in NP, attended high school here, and are around 50 years old. One has lived here pretty much her whole life, the other moved down the road to Ogallala for a while and is looking to move back. Neither of them had any idea either. The best guess was "Flat Rockers?" Apparently Flat Rock is a nickname for NP, for reasons unknown. (The mystery deepens. Platte, I believe, is french for flat, but the rock part remains obscure.) Conversation on this topic led us to NP's other nickname, which is, of course, Little Chicago. My colleagues couldn't enlighten me regarding the provenance of that moniker either, but Wikipedia could: "During the 1930s, high crime rates and corruption caused North Platte to be infamously known as 'Little Chicago." This is ludicrous. Of course, that leaves "Little Chicagoans" as an option, but no one would ever know that it referred to North Platters (as I choose to call them, and as the receptionist at the North Platte Convention and Visitor's Bureau reluctantly suggested). The last alternative is just to refer to them all as the afore-blogged Bulldawgs. This cognomen, like "Little Chicagoans", does not obviously identify the denizens, but it at least retains some of the local flavor.
In other NP news, NP has graced the lyrics of at least two songs. Here are the lyrics to one, Superslab Showdown, by C.W. McCall, complete with interpretation. And here are the lyrics to another, A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left (originally called to my attention by HDL).
Yesterday, my trusty sidekick, Lulu, and I took a beautiful drive through midwestern Nebraska. I found the first few towns quaint (in an entirely un-Annapolis way) though smelly. Later I discovered that my trusty sidekick had barfed on the backseat. So they are probably merely quaint. Anyhow, I do have photos to show for it, but it's hard to post them w/o internet access at home. Maybe next weekend. At that point I will give more detail on our trip.
This was our route:
View Larger Map
I can't speak highly enough the beauty of the Nebraska sandhills. If you don't take the opportunity to visit me while I'm here, you perusers of the series of tubes, you will have forgone a wonderful, and uncommon, opportunity.
bonne soir,
. . .
I had no idea. So I asked my colleagues, both of whom were born in NP, attended high school here, and are around 50 years old. One has lived here pretty much her whole life, the other moved down the road to Ogallala for a while and is looking to move back. Neither of them had any idea either. The best guess was "Flat Rockers?" Apparently Flat Rock is a nickname for NP, for reasons unknown. (The mystery deepens. Platte, I believe, is french for flat, but the rock part remains obscure.) Conversation on this topic led us to NP's other nickname, which is, of course, Little Chicago. My colleagues couldn't enlighten me regarding the provenance of that moniker either, but Wikipedia could: "During the 1930s, high crime rates and corruption caused North Platte to be infamously known as 'Little Chicago." This is ludicrous. Of course, that leaves "Little Chicagoans" as an option, but no one would ever know that it referred to North Platters (as I choose to call them, and as the receptionist at the North Platte Convention and Visitor's Bureau reluctantly suggested). The last alternative is just to refer to them all as the afore-blogged Bulldawgs. This cognomen, like "Little Chicagoans", does not obviously identify the denizens, but it at least retains some of the local flavor.
In other NP news, NP has graced the lyrics of at least two songs. Here are the lyrics to one, Superslab Showdown, by C.W. McCall, complete with interpretation. And here are the lyrics to another, A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left (originally called to my attention by HDL).
Yesterday, my trusty sidekick, Lulu, and I took a beautiful drive through midwestern Nebraska. I found the first few towns quaint (in an entirely un-Annapolis way) though smelly. Later I discovered that my trusty sidekick had barfed on the backseat. So they are probably merely quaint. Anyhow, I do have photos to show for it, but it's hard to post them w/o internet access at home. Maybe next weekend. At that point I will give more detail on our trip.
This was our route:
View Larger Map
I can't speak highly enough the beauty of the Nebraska sandhills. If you don't take the opportunity to visit me while I'm here, you perusers of the series of tubes, you will have forgone a wonderful, and uncommon, opportunity.
bonne soir,
. . .
Nov 2, 2007
the series of tubes has been rerouted
I don't have the series of tubes at my house right now. I don't know when I will again. This means less blog. It also means that my primary source of reference material is gone-o. I have many questions (e.g. What to do w/ leftover salad? hmm) that I like to pose to the tubes on the fly. I rarely remember the questions when I get to work, and besides, I'm supposed to work at work. So no fly answers to my fly questions (e.g. What is a molly bolt?). I just have to hope that someone in the neighborhood decides to give me some more free tubes for xmas, I guess.
. . .
. . .
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
