Finally after two months untangling snarls in cyberspace

I think I'm back - but since all I've had this morning is strong coffee, my fingers aren't functioning as they should.
First came another form email from google, with one non-form sentence. "Thank you for your note." Apparently I am not the first one who had to resort to snail mail to get past the loops, hurdles, roadblocks, endless circles created by technology, which has yet to become humanely intelligent -- because the rest of their response was obviously nor original.

When I logged onto my gmail account home page there were almost 4000 messages in the chain. Thanks to the ability to forward to my roadrunner account, they were not lost - just piling up in a dusty folder. I am afraid to sign out of my gmail account or my blog now - it's like the edge of a precipice - I peer over, but I don't dare look too far down.

I have a tiny new video camera - which I chose without any input from my techy son. I also have a new IPod Touch - and although I am told about the thousands of Apps available, the few free ones I have added so far are dreadfully amateurish -
I guess you get what you pay for. I'm hoping that Bob is here for Christmas. I look forward to his help, even tho' he is inclined to provide minimal instruction, and make me figure it out - which is probably the right thing to do for a person of a certain age ( mine, not his).

there was a little girl who had a little curl and the story of a nightmare

My entry about just some of MaeRose's Marley-like behaviors won one of fifty consolation prizes.
Since then MR has added more to her history of little sweet miss- behaviors. She has discovered a chest, left open from time to time, containing cotton balls, bristly hair curlers, cotton swabs, lotions (no potions). She loves to drag everything out - quite a fluffy, but reasonably clean mess.

After being caught twice, she seemed to realize this was forbidden excavation. Until - yesterday. I heard bumping, thumping, then nothing. A few minutes later MaeRose trotted into my office, put her head on my lap, and gave one of those 'what do I do now?' looks.
Stuck firmly in her hair above a curly ear was a bristly curler. Busted!

She will soon be seven, but lately seems to have been overcome by urges to create a nest -
she totally loves little dogs -longs to have one of her own. I, too, crave another doodle. Our condo limit is two - technically none over 20 pounds each - we broke that rule the first year with our first labradoodle - doing it the second time was easier.

Yesterday was my first appointment to tutor a nine-year old resident of Five Acres, a community home for children who have been abused, abandoned, mistreated. Its campus includes a large outdoor recreational area with swimming pool,
dining hall, classrooms for first through twelfth grades. My pupil attends class with seven or eight boys, one or two girls,
a teacher, an assistant, a classroom with computers and a smart board. He is struggling to learn to read - in part, I feel, because of a very short attention span.

I had a nightmare last night - based on my totally non-nightmarish afternoon. In my dream I was in a large crowd of teachers, assistants, disheveled looking, needing a bath youngsters. The one assigned to me had brown eyes, shaggy brown hair, a sly manner. After doing my best to converse with him, getting short non-informative replies, he disappeared.
I looked everywhere - getting glares and head shakings from unidentified adults (were they counselors, maids,
janitors, teachers?) When he finally emerged he was wearing a dress, long black hair, lipstick. Next thing I knew he appeared with a burr cut - telling me that he had decided to get his hair cut when he left earlier.

Penny Scott-Fox (looking like Ros from MI-5) was in charge of tutor volunteers. After telling us to meet outside, she vanished. During the hour I spent looking for her I heard from other volunteers that this always happened. Our scheduled two or fewer hours always stretched to more than four, although we were only getting paid for two. (my volunteering in real time is non-paid)

Remnants of the dream hung on like cobwebs for hours after I woke -

Hot weather and obsolesence

Another saved draft - this time less than a month old.


Blogging is getting a little addictive. The sky is blue for the first time in days. But, large plumes of smoke, hopefully from the backfires, hover to the east. The temperature reads 90 degrees, and feels at least that and more. I tried to purchase the Sunday edition of the Pasadena Star News this afternoon, only to learn that it will not be on the news stands (meaning our local liquor stores) until tomorrow. The LA Times for Sunday appears early Saturday - does that make it dated? I quit subscribing ages ago - and admit that I miss the rustle of pages turning, and the ink on my fingers, but not the long boring articles and the lack of nationwide news. Too LAcentric -.

Will the population 25 years from now find our technology amusingly antiquated, our early contraptions for downloading music and books as obsolete as we, of a certain age, find Beta players, 8-tracks, answering machines with tapes,
and dial phones?

I lived in Dallas when Texas Instruments introduced a hand held pocket calculator with an astonishing array of functions, and a price in the hundreds. It created quite a stir. Despite its price, stores soon ran out of stock.

People I'd like to meet

Still in the pre-school section of blogging - just discovered that I have three drafts - this one was written two years ago -
startling how my thoughts have changed since then, but here goes anyway.





First, it has taken me some time to figure out how to post to my blog, once started. And, having seen some of the elaborate blogs online, I am surprised anyone has time to read any of them - some are true works of art - others are some work!

Here are some people I would love to meet - to have ordinary conversations with -

Whoopi Goldberg
Helen Mirren
Charles Kerault
Maria Schriver
John Sayles

When I thought of this topic several days ago I had a long list in my head - at the moment the list has evaporated -
maybe it's because I'm tired -

On another subject -today I met a 150-pound black Newfoundland named Bodie - a stunning looking dog with a great disposition. I was walking with my two labradoodles, and with Michelle and Hazel, her vizsla -
and while standing there dog-chatting a grandmother came along pushing a stroller with one-year old twin girls - a charming chance meeting -
Michelle and I visited a seven month old German Short-Hair Pointer - playful, inquisitive, satin brown head, spotted body - energetic - perfect conformation. Juno is her name -

Margaret Atwood - a rediscovered author

Just finished reading Cat's Eye, vintage Atwood. Every sentence beautifully crafted. Descriptions of ordinary things, events, art pieces the protagonist created, realistic - makes the reader wonder if Atwood wanted to be a painter, but could only describe the paintings in words, rather than with canvas and brush. Her visualization is astonishing.

Katie MacNichol, noted actress, member of my picture book critique group, will be one of the narrators at Royce Hall, UCLA, October 9, 2009, at a promotion of The Year of the Flood, Atwood's latest release. This event features Atwood reading from the work, along with various actors and a chorus. The novel is set in a bleak future.

Years ago I listened to P. D. James' Children of Men on tape. It is chilling, unforgettable. The movie did not, in my opinion, do it justice. I don't know if other James' works are Atwood-esque, but this one surely is. The others James I have read are somber mysteries.

Darby ate a bird - long ago

I have been creating Wordles - addicting fun. In searching through old documents to find something to paste into Wordle I ran across this - totally forgotten - must have been six years or more ago when he was a puppy - he is now a middle-aged seven.

Oh my - I was working in my office this morning and realized Darby was not
right under my feet, where he usually is. I found him in the garden eating
a bird - - feathers sticking out of his mouth - not at all interested in
letting me have it. I was too squeamish to take it away, after determining
it was not one of the hummingbirds we have in our trees. In fact, it is
possible he found the body on the ground, since he has paid no attention to
birds at the feeder or in the bird bath. I'd like to think he did not kill
it - retrievers are supposed to retrieve, not destroy.

I think the entire thing went into his tummy - feathers, feet and all -
Maybe BARF stands instead of Bones and Raw Food,  for "birds and raw feathers" - My Cairn Terrier of a few years ago ate a bird - a big one she chased and caught.

I thought cats were the ones to worry about.

Now I will have to watch for indigestion - mine and his.

A new word plaything

Just found out about Wordle. Not exactly sure what its consequences are, but it is fun. Just google the word, and start to play.