A Food Note

The Dog is now 6-0 for rat slaying. His latest conquest came right after the Autumnal Feast ended last night.

Hit it out of the park, btw, on the feasting. Except I forgot to take pictures of almost everything. And the pictures I did take, Blogger apparently doesn't want you to see.

So I'm going to scrape more goose fat off the surfaces of my kitchen and try again tomorrow.

(Btw, The Spouse is making French onion soup for dinner. I am sooooooo excited for it's toasty cheesy goodness).

It's Happening Again

I swear. This blipping thing is going to be the death of me.

That Was Close

Last night it looked like my blogging days were over. Not in a "I'm over this and have better things to do with my time and blogging is so 2006 anyway" sort of way. No, it looked like my blogging days were over in a really final, "You are so denied entrance, what are you, kidding me?" sort of way.

It made me have a little panic attack.

So I called The Hat, which is one of the things I do when I panic. (Also, when something makes me laugh, when it's time for a second cup of coffee, or when I hear/read/observe something interesting in the universe. But also, when I panic).

So I call her and tell her, with no ceremony, that my blogging days are at an end. And she, being the sort of squenchy wench that she is said, "Oh...(with that really sweet and sensitive "I'm listening" voice)...what happened?"

Here's what happened:

I have my blog set up so that I get an email whenever someone leaves a comment. You probably do it, too. It's a useful device, especially for those of us who like replying to comments. Saves you checking your blog every five minutes to see if anyone has read it. Right. So a few months ago, I got one such email, clicked on the link and that stoopid "Security Information" screen pops up. I click on it and it went away, for a nanosecond, and then popped up again. And again. And again. Didn't matter if I pressed "yes" or "no". It wouldn't go away and I couldn't get to the comment box.

Fine. It was annoying but I entered through the Blogger dashboard and it was all good.

Last night I get an email. I went to my blog to respond (not through the email, mind you. Because that didn't work. I went straight to my blog). I COULDN'T GET IN. I was at the sign- in screen and it sat there, blipping and blipping and blipping. I couldn't type in my email address. I couldn't do anything. I COULDN'T GET INTO BLOGGER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My entire bloglife passed before my eyes. There were at least 3 months of posts I hadn't yet backed up. My morning ritual of blog reading with coffee, gone. Oh, sure, I could spend 412 hours of my day typing every one's blog title into Google but that was going to get old. Plus, the blipping thing was going to keep me from commenting.

It would look like I was disappeared. One day here, the next day gone. No note, no explanation as to why there's a full pot of coffee and not a bite out of the delicious pie on the counter. Just G.O.N.E. Only I wouldn't actually be gone so much as locked out of Blogtopia. And, I might add, in a really passive-aggressive way. "Oh, I'm still here," says Blogger. Blip. "And all your blogs are here," blip. "Everything you've ever written" blip. "You just can't get into them," blip. "Ever, ever again," blip blip blip.

(Please note, "blip" it is not a euphemism for a vulgar word. (In those cases I say "frak", like they do on "Battlestar Galactica"). No, I mean what I say. Blipping. The screen was blipping. It was even making a little blippety blip of a sound).

I begin to mourn. I rue not backing up my archive. I keen the loss of Blogtopia: the give and take of commenting, the in-jokes, the nicknames, Pop 101. Sure, I have the emails of my bestest blog buddies. Their phone numbers, too, for that matter. It's not like I'll lose them forever. But Blogtopia will be gone. On a technicality.

Hat listened to my woe. She said something along the lines of "No, I'm not going to let this happen". She said, "Try this" and I did and it didn't work and she said, "What if you..." and I did and that worked but it was a really backasswards way to beat the system and then she said, "Do thus and so" and I did and not only could I log into the dashboard but it fixed aforementioned email problem, too.

Then she laughed at me. And Sling brought sandbags. And all was well in my bloggy little world again.

---

Learn from my experience. If the weird blipping thing ever happens to you, here's what you do:

1) Go to a blog where you have commented. Find yourself on the comments page, click on your name, which takes you to your profile and click the "big B" in the upper left hand corner. That gets you to the dashboard.

2) Go to "settings" and scroll down to where you have the email address to which comments should be sent. Delete the address. Save your settings. Go back and re-enter your email and save again.

If that doesn't work, I have no frakking idea what you should do. Probably call The Hat and tell her your blogging career is over. Worked for me.

Looky!

I just checked the Blogger help groups and Nicole and I aren't the only ones having trouble with the title thing. If you are in that group, here's what you do:

If you move your cursor to the top of the title box, the arrow will turn into a line and when it does that you can click and get into the title box. Not quite as convenient as being able to just click on the box and go but it's not like living in a refuge camp with nothing to eat, either. Perspective.

More Artistic Endeavors

I don't just sketch. Sometimes I like to emboss photographs, especially of important people who eat dinner together.

That is such an inside joke that I won't even bother...you either get it or you don't.

And since I can't answer my own comments because Blogger won't let me:

Yes, SCG, they are.

Red, see above.

Jon: Honey, I love ya. And I have some swamp land to sell you.

What's Up with That?

Any of you other kids having trouble leaving comments because that stupid "you're about to enter a secure site" (or is it insecure?) popup thingy keeps popping up and won't go away no matter what you do so you have to stop trying altogether?

Not that you'd be able to tell me if you were because you'd go to my comments and get that stupid "you're about to enter a secure site" popup thingy over and over.

Just venting. Move along.

Fooling Around

This is a test. Blogger thinks we’re spamming over at “Here’s the 80s”. Trying to post 100 videos in a weekend. Hmm...who’s bright idea was that again?

Anyhoo, I’ve been finding all these videos and have things to say about them and I figured that at least I could work on the text and then maybe when Blogger is over its hissy fit, it won’t take that long to put up more material.

So I’m just trying to see if it works to copy the embed scripts into Word and then copy them into Blogger. That’s all.

Plus, I played this song earlier and totally forgot how much I loved it and how adorable this video is so I figured I’d play it over here, too, just for fun. Assuming this works.

That is all.

I Am Really Annoyed

This weekend I posted about a dream wherein The Child and I were walking on a muddy mountain road in the rain and she was naked and pushing her bike and how she kept wandering to the precipice from which I kept having to call her back, not wanting her to plunge over the edge. It ended with some (insanely clever) comment about how well I was handling her turning 13. And people left very nice and supportive comments.

So today I went to that post to add a label and then hit "enter", because that's a pretty ingrained sort of thing to do, you'll admit, and Blogger totally ate my post! And it didn't so much as burp or say "thank you", it just ate it up - poetic description, wit, comments and all.

And as long as I'm on it, because it has been a while since I complained about Blogger, sometimes when I save a post as a draft it completely disappears and doesn't save at all. Has anyone else had that happen? It's done that about 3 times now. (And yes, the solution is of course to compose in Word and cut/paste over here...I know that. I hardly ever do).

That is all.

Men

When I was in college there was this boy. He was the friend of a guy on whom I had a crush. The guy never gave me a tumble but the best friend took a shine to me. I wasn't interested. Something about him just read wrong to me...too slick, too sure of himself. I wasn't very smart about guys but something told me this one couldn't quite be trusted.

But he courted me. He'd call just to read me something he thought I'd enjoy. He'd wait for me after Philosophy 101 and walk me to Christian Literature: Milton to Sayers. Finally, I consented to go out with him, to the undergrad library at the UW. With his room-mate/best friend, who it turned out, had played basketball when Sean was coaching.

The thing about this guy was that he was all about the chase. After a few months he decided that he was "too old" for me and that I shouldn't be tied down. I remember looking at him and saying, "You want to date other people. Fine. I'm out". I started dating another guy right away, who came out of nowhere and was a sweetie. As soon as Jerk Face found out, he wanted me back. Summer came. Sweetie went away. Jerk Face kept working the perimeter until I decided to give him another chance. A few months later he started sleeping with his roomate/best friend's girlfriend. Because I wouldn't put out and she, you know, would. Charming guy.

Haven't thought about that little debacle in years.

Blogger came back today, inviting me, so suave, so cool, to come on over to the Beta Bar and maybe we could, you know, hang out. I was ready. My defenses had been eroded by all those alluring invitations of the past few weeks. I click the "switch to the new version" button. What did I have to lose? I nervously signed in, feeling a little giddy, the hum of possibility singing through my little bloggy veins. And you know what Blogger did then? Blogger said I was too big and couldn't play after all. Blogger is a booger.

Thanksgiving Addendum

Booger Blogger got tired of load pictures yesterday but here are just a few more for fun and then I'll get back to playing VJ.

This is Mr. Mortimer Chantilly, who is the head cosmetologist at Berry Berry & Diggins Mortuary. He's been at that post for 29 years, after tragically losing his entire family when he was only 12. This loss, and the shoddy work that was done on his family, inspired him to go into this line of work and he was renowned for his gift. My father told me all this yesterday, when he called to inform that poor Mr. Chantilly died very suddenly and as there is no one to do his makeup, he will be cremated. (My father is, I've decided, a strange little man).

(Also, check out The Child's curls...it's so fun to have older cousins to help glam you up!)














Here is Mr. Chantilly, bonding with The Dog, who found something oddly familiar about the moustache.















Speaking of oddly familiar, the only time The Dog went completely nuts was when Martha's family was doing "Wild Thing". That long, curly black wig on my BIL's head just freaked pup out. I think he thought BIL was wearing a relative. Also, it is worth noting that my BIL is a easily the most conservative of us all and works as a pastor. Because he always surprises me (us) when he does stuff like this. (Likely a lesson in there about not judging books by their cover or something like that).















And this is my neice Emily, who I don't talk about much because I don't see her as often so I'm not as close to her as I am Mols and Jane but she's a lovely girl and I just thought I'd mention that.

Back to the music.

Thanksgiving Dinner

sFirst, you have to cook it. Emma, who heretofore would like to be known as Jane Austen, was of great help to her mother and I. She peeled potatoes.

She also managed to stir gravy and yams at the same time. She's in college. We're very proud of her. (Except that she's 19 and still hasn't registered to vote. She got an earful about that but has promised to be registered by the next presidential election).

(I had some darling photos of her here but Blogger ate them & won't let me put them back. Blogger's a booger).

Sometimes my multi-talented Mols joined the cooking fun. There was much bursting into song and Audrey Hepburn had to keep shushing us. We get a little enthusiastic when we do show tunes.






















Here's Audrey, giving my yams a taste test. Funny thing about our holiday menu. There are always yams, because it is tradition. Only about 3 of us actually eat them. (They were good this year, though, even though I ended up skipping the homemade marshamallows and doing an orange-balsamic vinegar-maple syrup mash thing. Yum. To the 3 of us that eat them, that is).




















Audrey made a splendid feast although the turkey took longer than she had planned which meant people were getting testy because the meal that was supposed to start at 2 didn't until 3 but my job was to to give her stirring words of encouragement, because even though people were ready for more than black olives and baby corn, one certainly doesn't want to serve undercooked turkey. Audrey held fast and besides, the gravy was taking its own sweet time thickening, despite repeated applications of cornstarch slurry. It was like it knew. And when the gravy magically came to the proper thickness the turkey was ready. And it was delicious. As were her mashed potatoes and dressing (and stuffing) and all the other delectable things that were spread out on our very long table.

Also, my other sister, Martha Stewart, had a plan to make aprons for all the moms but things, like life, got in the way of that project so she just went into her stash of vintage aprons (which number in the 40s...she really is frakking Martha Stewart...I mean, seriously, who do you know that collects vintage aprons?) She chose them according to each woman's style. Mine is a fab 50's retro, black and white graphic thing with a little trim of lavendar on the pockets. I heart my apron so much and I plan on wearing it every day when I do housework. It is super fantastic.














And then, because this was the point of gathering from all four winds, we gathered around the beautifully decorated and laden table, held hands for grace, sang the Doxology in 40 part harmony and tucked in.






Pass that perfectly roasted turkey and gorgeously thick gravy, please.

Swede and Chick

Booger, I mean, Blogger is finally playing nice again.

Is it Thursday? Already?

First of all, I've been getting in touch with my Inner Amy, but Blogger is being a booger about uploading pictures so you're just going to have to wait. (Dammit).

Also, the whole having a holiday on Tuesday thing is wrecking havoc with my week. Yesterday felt like Saturday, which gave me a false sense of nobility as I weeded the kitchen garden and did laundry. You know, because I don't usually bother with things like that on the weekend. Plus now, here it is, Thursday already, which means it actually is almost the weekend. Which is going to be busy because we're going to the track on Saturday (Costco Family Day) and Sunday The Child and I are going to go to a family get-together as one of the New Jersey cousins is coming through town with his wife. I haven't seen my cousin in about 15 years and I haven't seen his wife in, like, 20. So that will be big fun. Plus, we've decided to stay overnight with my baby sister and her family, which will be delightful because she is delightful, her children are delightful and her husband is a hoot. The Spouse, meanwhile, will be working on a movie as part of the crew. Just for fun.

I did go work out with The Neighbor this morning, which is important because a) I haven't been doing that and 2) it got me started plenty early so maybe, just maybe, today will feel like a regular weekday and I'll spend less time playing Age of Empires III. *

I shall now go make myself useful and wait on the time when Blogger deigns to upload pictures again.

---

* Which I've decided I like well enough, Pat. The graphics are terrific and the learning curve wasn't too daunting. There's still a lot of stuff I have yet to really utilize in the game but some of the positives are that the techs are consolidated on fewer buildings so you aren't jumping around all the time. Your colonists don't have to waste time and resources building lumber and mining camps and even at their lowest level they seem to accrue resources faster. I miss the god powers and relic monkeys from Age of Mythology but having played and compared all the civilizations and most of the maps I was growing weary of it. AoE III is a nice change. Except that my laptop doesn't support it as well as a PC would. I can't even bother building ships because if there's a sea battle, fuggedaboudit. But otherwise, it's all good.

Photo Album

Blogger is such a booger. One's ability to upload pictures has become completely random. There have been several times earlier this week when I'd upload a picture, be told it was "done" but nothing would show up on my post. Argh! Now, today, for the moment at least, it is co-operating. So here are some of the pictures that were intended to accompany some prose. I feel better now.

Me & The Cardinal at dinner:
















My new coffee mug:















Latte bowls, old and new:
















The new wine glass with an old bistro glass: