Ok, this is internet 101 because a couple of my friends/readers have e-mailed me about the previous post and asked “Read what article?”
So...look at the previous post, do you see the words ‘Swatch and the words ‘Smart Car’ in both places, notice how these words are a slightly different color than the other words around them? Now run your cursor (arrow pointy thingy that moves when your mouse moves) over these words. As you do, do you notice the lines that appear above and below the words? These words are links! This means that if you click on the words you’ll be directed to another page, usually one that has information regarding that word.
To come back to this page just go to the top of your browser window and hit the back arrow and you’ll come back to this page. See, so if you click on the second occurrence of the words ‘Smart Car’ you’ll be directed to the page of the article of which I am speaking. See how easy that was and see how much you've missed in previous posts. Well I'll let you go now you have some catching up to do.
Tommorow we’ll cover the joys of the ‘comments’ window.
Yes, very sarcastic, I am, I can’t help it, but you still love me… right?
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Coming soon to a dealership near you?
Back in my post of November 18, 2003...
...I made fun of these cute little cars and NOW it turns out that the Smart Car is coming to a dealership near you? Read the article!
Would anyone really want to be driving a car Designed by Swatch and Engineered by Daimler Chrysler. You see these Smart Cars are everywhere you look here. This car is basically a two seater, not a family vehicle. They look fun, but basically you're driving a glorified motorbike! Yeah, boy that's what I'm buying with the car money I've squirreled away! I wonder if they come with an airbag.
Could an airbag possibly make any difference in a collision? |
Saturday, August 28, 2004
So, um, you gonna eat that?
Today we went to Castlenaudary…
(I know! Me too! Every time I see that name I want to say Castle Laundry, in fact, have actually given up and that’s what I call the town now.)
…for the much lauded ‘Fête du Cassoulet'; Cassoulet being nothing less than the most wonderful French dish in the whole world.
(Oh, sorry didn’t mean to splash that sarcasm all over you.)
(You know what, you better stop right here and go wash that off before it burns a whole in your shirt, sorry.)
Basically it’s a casserole resembling pork and beans but containing white beans, whole sausages, and a duck leg. The dish is served in a large earthenware dish, fresh from the oven, to the oohs and ahhs of those at table. Lets face it it’s hard to get excited about casserole and why one needs its very own weekend celebration, god only knows.
(Of course I did just leave a town that is, this very weekend, celebrating corn, so I guess I shouldn’t be so derisive.)
(People will celebrate anything.)
Anyway, the town had roped off whole streets that were lined with vendor booths. Most of these booths were selling, you know, Cassoulet. Cassoulet in cans, Cassoulet in jars and of course Cassoulet in earthenware dishes that were ready to take right home and pop into the oven. Mmmm.
Of course other booths were selling the ingredients so you could make your own Cassoulet. There were tables full of kilos and kilos of white beans. There was duck for sale and of course the other necessary ingredient and my ultimate favorite, …
(ooh, sorry about that sarcasm again, geez, I’ll have to get you a new shirt if I keep this up.)
…the sausage vendors.
There were also a few artisans; you know wood work, beaded jewelry, dried flowers etc. Several wineries were represented; each one showcasing their best flavors to accompany your casserole. We tried a couple of merlots and ended up buying a couple of bottles.
We came across one booth that was selling like 15 different varieties of honey…
(not an ingredient in Cassoulet.)
…lavender and thyme honey, forest (?) honey, pine forest honey, rhododendron honey, acacia honey…you get the point. You’d have to be a honey connoisseur to be able to tell the real differences but we tried the lightest color one (the lavender) and the darkest color one (pine forest) and at the extremes you could taste the subtle differences. We bought some.
Of course as we came around a corner to one of the main squares we saw the real reason for a weekend celebrating casserole, the beer garden. Huge beer bar on one end, band setting up on the other end, that place will be hopping tonight, and I’m guessing they won’t be eating too much casserole. Come to think of it I think it’s the exact same thing they’ll be celebrating tonight at Cornfest.
(I know! Me too! Every time I see that name I want to say Castle Laundry, in fact, have actually given up and that’s what I call the town now.)
…for the much lauded ‘Fête du Cassoulet'; Cassoulet being nothing less than the most wonderful French dish in the whole world.
(Oh, sorry didn’t mean to splash that sarcasm all over you.)
(You know what, you better stop right here and go wash that off before it burns a whole in your shirt, sorry.)
Basically it’s a casserole resembling pork and beans but containing white beans, whole sausages, and a duck leg. The dish is served in a large earthenware dish, fresh from the oven, to the oohs and ahhs of those at table. Lets face it it’s hard to get excited about casserole and why one needs its very own weekend celebration, god only knows.
(Of course I did just leave a town that is, this very weekend, celebrating corn, so I guess I shouldn’t be so derisive.)
(People will celebrate anything.)
Anyway, the town had roped off whole streets that were lined with vendor booths. Most of these booths were selling, you know, Cassoulet. Cassoulet in cans, Cassoulet in jars and of course Cassoulet in earthenware dishes that were ready to take right home and pop into the oven. Mmmm.
Of course other booths were selling the ingredients so you could make your own Cassoulet. There were tables full of kilos and kilos of white beans. There was duck for sale and of course the other necessary ingredient and my ultimate favorite, …
(ooh, sorry about that sarcasm again, geez, I’ll have to get you a new shirt if I keep this up.)
…the sausage vendors.
There were also a few artisans; you know wood work, beaded jewelry, dried flowers etc. Several wineries were represented; each one showcasing their best flavors to accompany your casserole. We tried a couple of merlots and ended up buying a couple of bottles.
We came across one booth that was selling like 15 different varieties of honey…
(not an ingredient in Cassoulet.)
…lavender and thyme honey, forest (?) honey, pine forest honey, rhododendron honey, acacia honey…you get the point. You’d have to be a honey connoisseur to be able to tell the real differences but we tried the lightest color one (the lavender) and the darkest color one (pine forest) and at the extremes you could taste the subtle differences. We bought some.
Of course as we came around a corner to one of the main squares we saw the real reason for a weekend celebrating casserole, the beer garden. Huge beer bar on one end, band setting up on the other end, that place will be hopping tonight, and I’m guessing they won’t be eating too much casserole. Come to think of it I think it’s the exact same thing they’ll be celebrating tonight at Cornfest.
Friday, August 27, 2004
It's good to have a dream...
I always wanted to be an idiot savant, but today I will just have to settle for idiot.
I came home from a language lesson this afternoon in ‘multi-task’ mode and started doing dishes and laundry and listening to music and working on my Photoshop training DVD all at pretty much the same time. Well, doing dishes began with turning on the hot water and then being sidetracked by a dishtowel that needed to be put in with the current load of washing. This took me past my computer on the return trip where the training program had finally loaded and I sat down to work.
Mind you, I listen to music quite loudly when I ‘m alone so if it hadn’t been for the death-wish of a quite large, ugly and hugely annoying fly I wouldn’t have followed it into the kitchen to grant its wish and discover that a Tupperware lid had become wedged over the drain in the sink and I had recreated a lovely, steaming, frothing Niagra Falls in my kitchen.
Thank god for a well placed kitchen rug that sacrificed itself and bravely soaked up the boiling, steaming water to bursting level and turned an apocalyptic mess into a mere catastrophe.
Of course moving the steaming rug/dam to the garage became another comedy of errors and a comedy for another day.
Now if I could just find a way to blame this on the French my day would be complete…
That’s my day today, how’s yours?
I came home from a language lesson this afternoon in ‘multi-task’ mode and started doing dishes and laundry and listening to music and working on my Photoshop training DVD all at pretty much the same time. Well, doing dishes began with turning on the hot water and then being sidetracked by a dishtowel that needed to be put in with the current load of washing. This took me past my computer on the return trip where the training program had finally loaded and I sat down to work.
Mind you, I listen to music quite loudly when I ‘m alone so if it hadn’t been for the death-wish of a quite large, ugly and hugely annoying fly I wouldn’t have followed it into the kitchen to grant its wish and discover that a Tupperware lid had become wedged over the drain in the sink and I had recreated a lovely, steaming, frothing Niagra Falls in my kitchen.
Thank god for a well placed kitchen rug that sacrificed itself and bravely soaked up the boiling, steaming water to bursting level and turned an apocalyptic mess into a mere catastrophe.
Of course moving the steaming rug/dam to the garage became another comedy of errors and a comedy for another day.
Now if I could just find a way to blame this on the French my day would be complete…
That’s my day today, how’s yours?
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Does not share well with others…
I baked these wonderful Ghirardelli chocolate chip brownies with some of that coconut pecan frosting generously swirled into them with a little extra water added in to make them more 'cakie' than 'fudgie'. Then I ate them while they were still warm and the chocolate chips were still gooey and drippy and the frosting had melted all the way through and the coconut was toasty on the top and....um, yeah and I had them with a glass of cold (french) milk...It was pure heaven. Oooh and the best part is the top, you know how when you bake brownies they're kind of crusty on the top....you know what I mean! So anyway I thought I'd just tell you about them and now I'm done and I'm going to go back to eating them.
That is all.
That is all.
Sunday, August 22, 2004
Cleanup
Well have started the unpacking process here at France house, while at the same time cleaning up from the aftermath of having S at home alone for almost three months.
Just as a sign of how things are looking around here I relate the following story:
While in California I amassed such a collection of stuff to bring back to France that I decided to send some stuff home. I packed a box with some computer peripherals, books, DVD's, a box of bisquick, a huge jar of the sacred and scarce Hellmann's Mayonnaise (That's Best Foods Mayo for you California-ites)and a few other space fillers.
This afternoon while assembling ingredients for some tuna salad sandwiches I asked after the whereabouts of this new jar of Mayo. S left the kitchen and began his search in the bathroom cupboard...
Still have not located the Mayo.
Just as a sign of how things are looking around here I relate the following story:
While in California I amassed such a collection of stuff to bring back to France that I decided to send some stuff home. I packed a box with some computer peripherals, books, DVD's, a box of bisquick, a huge jar of the sacred and scarce Hellmann's Mayonnaise (That's Best Foods Mayo for you California-ites)and a few other space fillers.
This afternoon while assembling ingredients for some tuna salad sandwiches I asked after the whereabouts of this new jar of Mayo. S left the kitchen and began his search in the bathroom cupboard...
Still have not located the Mayo.
Friday, August 20, 2004
Sleep Deprivation
Ok the problem turns out to be that airplane seats are not designed for sleep. This is an unfortunate situation when you are flying across a rather large body of water (i.e. the Atlantic Ocean) at night. I mean really who can sleep sitting bolt upright!
Some have suggested getting one of those coveted window seats. The advantage to the window is of course that you can wedge your head in the corner formed by the wall and the seat and therefore keep it from lolling from side to side or dropping unto your chest while you try to sleep. The obvious problem with that is of course that in a 747 there are seven (count them 7) seats across and only two of those seats have the advantage of being next to a window (of course on the bright side that puts 4 seats on an isle, so there's really only one middle seat per row). You’d practically have to book a year in advance to get one of those seats on that type of flight just for that reason. Then aside from the few number of window seats to be had is that I’m claustrophobic and the idea of being trapped by someone else sitting next to me and blocking my escape to the aisle (never mind that there's no where to go once I get there...let's not start me thinking on that shall we.) is just unbearable.
They do provide you with a comfy little 'toy’ pillow on these long overseas flights but all that does is, that once you stick it behind your head, it helps keep your chin on your chest in that lolling position that you might achieve as you fall asleep anyway. If you recline your seat the 10 or so whopping degrees allowed by that little button on the armrest and then utilize said pillow, you have achieved nothing more than to put your head in its original upright position.
The seat I am currently sitting in has these lovely little wing things on the head rest that can be pulled forward to create an artificial corner for your head to rest in, but fail miserably as they are positioned a bit too high to be of any use to short people. They could improve on this design by making them adjustable and by adding a strap so you could strap your head to the head rest. That would solve all the lolling problems. Add a three point harness and you could even sleep through turbulence.
You might think that these disjointed and angry musing are just a product of a crabby and sleep deprived mind and well hell let’s face it you’re right. But what else am I to do for entertainment on a 9 hour flight. Sleep deprivation is an ugly thing.
I have to stop now because the woman in the (window) seat next to me is snoring and is disrupting my train of thought with her peacefulness. Hang on, I think I've just thought of another use for that toy pillow they gave me!
Some have suggested getting one of those coveted window seats. The advantage to the window is of course that you can wedge your head in the corner formed by the wall and the seat and therefore keep it from lolling from side to side or dropping unto your chest while you try to sleep. The obvious problem with that is of course that in a 747 there are seven (count them 7) seats across and only two of those seats have the advantage of being next to a window (of course on the bright side that puts 4 seats on an isle, so there's really only one middle seat per row). You’d practically have to book a year in advance to get one of those seats on that type of flight just for that reason. Then aside from the few number of window seats to be had is that I’m claustrophobic and the idea of being trapped by someone else sitting next to me and blocking my escape to the aisle (never mind that there's no where to go once I get there...let's not start me thinking on that shall we.) is just unbearable.
They do provide you with a comfy little 'toy’ pillow on these long overseas flights but all that does is, that once you stick it behind your head, it helps keep your chin on your chest in that lolling position that you might achieve as you fall asleep anyway. If you recline your seat the 10 or so whopping degrees allowed by that little button on the armrest and then utilize said pillow, you have achieved nothing more than to put your head in its original upright position.
The seat I am currently sitting in has these lovely little wing things on the head rest that can be pulled forward to create an artificial corner for your head to rest in, but fail miserably as they are positioned a bit too high to be of any use to short people. They could improve on this design by making them adjustable and by adding a strap so you could strap your head to the head rest. That would solve all the lolling problems. Add a three point harness and you could even sleep through turbulence.
You might think that these disjointed and angry musing are just a product of a crabby and sleep deprived mind and well hell let’s face it you’re right. But what else am I to do for entertainment on a 9 hour flight. Sleep deprivation is an ugly thing.
I have to stop now because the woman in the (window) seat next to me is snoring and is disrupting my train of thought with her peacefulness. Hang on, I think I've just thought of another use for that toy pillow they gave me!
Leaving on a jet plane
Hey all! Know it's been a while but just bear with me a bit longer. We leave today for France on American Airlines Flight AA42 @ 6:20 pm.
I know that the DSL in France house is a bit messed up, but hope to get it fixed by middle of next week and then things should get back to what passes for normal in my life.
We had a great visit here with everyone and it is so sad saying goodbye. Love you all and we'll see you on the flip side.
I know that the DSL in France house is a bit messed up, but hope to get it fixed by middle of next week and then things should get back to what passes for normal in my life.
We had a great visit here with everyone and it is so sad saying goodbye. Love you all and we'll see you on the flip side.
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
Bunny Update
Hey, good news, another bunny on the driveway this morning. Go Snickers! The dead bunny was announced by one of my current ‘roommates’. She seemed a bit upset at my ‘You go Snickers’ response. Hmm.
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Bits and Pieces
What I Miss
I visited the daycare the other day, the daycare that was the setting for almost 10 almost always happy years. I went in on the pretext of bringing Shannon some lunch and stayed to play a little bit.
I 'left the classroom' about 4 (maybe 5) years ago and the daycare altogether about 2 years ago.
Day care teachers are subject to burnout more quickly than most professionals because of the nature of the work. Whereas most jobs are hard and taxing and sometimes boring, the day care teacher’s job is more hazardous, physically and emotionally. These are people who are poorly paid and poorly esteemed and who literally raise, nurture and love other people’s children. And trust me, you don’t get paid to love these children, but love them you do because every one of these kids will worm their sticky, laughing way into your heart no matter how rotten or wonderful they are.
As the lights came on after nap time and the kids began the after nap ritual of putting on their shoes and washing up for snack it was as if I’d never left. Sitting on the edge of a cubby I was pulled right in by kids who came over and sat in my lap or asked for assistance or just came over to ask who I was.
“Hi, what’s you name?”
“Marissa”
“Why”
“Hmm, because that’s what my mom called me”
“Why”
“Because she liked that name”
“Why”
“I don’t know”
“Why”
“Because I never asked her”
“Why”
“You know what, I think it’s time for snack.”
“Why”
I never cease to be amazed by the easy affection of 4 year olds. If you are sitting next to their teacher than you must be completely kosher and therefore approachable. I truly miss their innocence and their instant acceptance.
Then came a teacher hauling a screaming child down to the bathroom. The child was kicking and flailing and screaming 'NO' at the top of his tiny little adorable lungs.
Oh yeah, THAT’S why I don’t do this anymore.
The Cop
Driving down the highway with my cruise control set at exactly 72 mph in a 65. As the miles rolled by I hit that little 'accelerate' button and edged it up a mile at a time until I was at 77. Then I ran into a small rolling road block in the form of about 15 cars filling all three lanes and moving quite slowly. I inspected the rolling road block for chinks or cracks where I might pass them and instead spotted the light rack on the top of the lead car. State Trooper. So I slowed down to 68 and fell into place at the back of the pack. I can be patient, after all this guy will probably get off at the next exit or so. 5 exits later however and the pack still growing, the cop was still leading us.
For amusement in these situations I love watching those people who come up on you from behind and begin the passing ritual, the whole annoyed what-the-heck-is-the-matter-with-all-of-you-slowpokes attitude. And then as they start to rev for the ‘passing party’ they too spot the cop and abashedly fall into step behind the rest of us. It provides slim amusement while you’re trapped in the pack, but amusement none the less.
As I crested a hill near the back of the ever growing pack I was treated to quite a site. The cop leading the pack below me turning into a curve and all the others in close pursuit. It resembled a large flock of birds flying in formation. It struck me then that the cop was enjoying his private parade and that he was doing it on purpose.
Storm
While indulging in my favorite pass-time (sitting in borders and sipping coffee while reading a shiny new story) a wonderful thunder storm blows in. Sitting in the café, right in the very corner where two walls of windows come together and the storm blowing outside is close enough to touch. Lightning flash after lightning flash, the thunder is a steady and constant rumble and the rain falling almost sideways in the sudden wind. The buzz of conversation in the café has gone up a notch and everyone is watching the windows, some a bit fearful others just excited by the drama outside. This is one of those wonderful violent storms that always manage to keep me transfixed at my window. The lights are starting to dim a bit now and then and that makes the excited chatter in the café pause until they brighten up again. Sitting here in my corner I have a great view and I can hear every crackle of thunder and every heavy drop of rain. The only thing missing is some coffee. I think about getting some before the power goes out all together and mid thought the power goes out. I can storm watch without coffee if I have to.
Moneygrams
Meeting the Ya-ya’s for dinner one night and I drag them to my favorite Mexican restaurant. It’s probably the closest to authentic Mexican that you can get in the Midwest and I intend to eat my fill before returning to France.
When I arrive at Taxco, the restaurant is empty. I pick a table and wait for the others to arrive. As the minutes tick by the restaurant begins to fill and I also notice people coming in and standing at the counter. I assume they are picking up take-out orders but I don’t really notice, notice them. However, as the line at the counter slowly grows I begin to take a closer look at the group and then I understand what is happening. The people in line are all Mexican and they are all standing in line to send a Moneygram. It’s Friday and they all just got paid and they are lining up to send as much money home to their families as they can comfortably afford to part with. It’s a ritual that few of us can truly understand, it’s the proof that the American dream is still alive and well and to me it’s a sign that that hope is also alive and well. And it’s a sign of something else as well; it’s a sign of courage. Courage to face a life in uncertainty for the betterment of their families. Courage to do the hard things for a stake in an easier future.
I visited the daycare the other day, the daycare that was the setting for almost 10 almost always happy years. I went in on the pretext of bringing Shannon some lunch and stayed to play a little bit.
I 'left the classroom' about 4 (maybe 5) years ago and the daycare altogether about 2 years ago.
Day care teachers are subject to burnout more quickly than most professionals because of the nature of the work. Whereas most jobs are hard and taxing and sometimes boring, the day care teacher’s job is more hazardous, physically and emotionally. These are people who are poorly paid and poorly esteemed and who literally raise, nurture and love other people’s children. And trust me, you don’t get paid to love these children, but love them you do because every one of these kids will worm their sticky, laughing way into your heart no matter how rotten or wonderful they are.
As the lights came on after nap time and the kids began the after nap ritual of putting on their shoes and washing up for snack it was as if I’d never left. Sitting on the edge of a cubby I was pulled right in by kids who came over and sat in my lap or asked for assistance or just came over to ask who I was.
“Hi, what’s you name?”
“Marissa”
“Why”
“Hmm, because that’s what my mom called me”
“Why”
“Because she liked that name”
“Why”
“I don’t know”
“Why”
“Because I never asked her”
“Why”
“You know what, I think it’s time for snack.”
“Why”
I never cease to be amazed by the easy affection of 4 year olds. If you are sitting next to their teacher than you must be completely kosher and therefore approachable. I truly miss their innocence and their instant acceptance.
Then came a teacher hauling a screaming child down to the bathroom. The child was kicking and flailing and screaming 'NO' at the top of his tiny little adorable lungs.
Oh yeah, THAT’S why I don’t do this anymore.
The Cop
Driving down the highway with my cruise control set at exactly 72 mph in a 65. As the miles rolled by I hit that little 'accelerate' button and edged it up a mile at a time until I was at 77. Then I ran into a small rolling road block in the form of about 15 cars filling all three lanes and moving quite slowly. I inspected the rolling road block for chinks or cracks where I might pass them and instead spotted the light rack on the top of the lead car. State Trooper. So I slowed down to 68 and fell into place at the back of the pack. I can be patient, after all this guy will probably get off at the next exit or so. 5 exits later however and the pack still growing, the cop was still leading us.
For amusement in these situations I love watching those people who come up on you from behind and begin the passing ritual, the whole annoyed what-the-heck-is-the-matter-with-all-of-you-slowpokes attitude. And then as they start to rev for the ‘passing party’ they too spot the cop and abashedly fall into step behind the rest of us. It provides slim amusement while you’re trapped in the pack, but amusement none the less.
As I crested a hill near the back of the ever growing pack I was treated to quite a site. The cop leading the pack below me turning into a curve and all the others in close pursuit. It resembled a large flock of birds flying in formation. It struck me then that the cop was enjoying his private parade and that he was doing it on purpose.
Storm
While indulging in my favorite pass-time (sitting in borders and sipping coffee while reading a shiny new story) a wonderful thunder storm blows in. Sitting in the café, right in the very corner where two walls of windows come together and the storm blowing outside is close enough to touch. Lightning flash after lightning flash, the thunder is a steady and constant rumble and the rain falling almost sideways in the sudden wind. The buzz of conversation in the café has gone up a notch and everyone is watching the windows, some a bit fearful others just excited by the drama outside. This is one of those wonderful violent storms that always manage to keep me transfixed at my window. The lights are starting to dim a bit now and then and that makes the excited chatter in the café pause until they brighten up again. Sitting here in my corner I have a great view and I can hear every crackle of thunder and every heavy drop of rain. The only thing missing is some coffee. I think about getting some before the power goes out all together and mid thought the power goes out. I can storm watch without coffee if I have to.
Moneygrams
Meeting the Ya-ya’s for dinner one night and I drag them to my favorite Mexican restaurant. It’s probably the closest to authentic Mexican that you can get in the Midwest and I intend to eat my fill before returning to France.
When I arrive at Taxco, the restaurant is empty. I pick a table and wait for the others to arrive. As the minutes tick by the restaurant begins to fill and I also notice people coming in and standing at the counter. I assume they are picking up take-out orders but I don’t really notice, notice them. However, as the line at the counter slowly grows I begin to take a closer look at the group and then I understand what is happening. The people in line are all Mexican and they are all standing in line to send a Moneygram. It’s Friday and they all just got paid and they are lining up to send as much money home to their families as they can comfortably afford to part with. It’s a ritual that few of us can truly understand, it’s the proof that the American dream is still alive and well and to me it’s a sign that that hope is also alive and well. And it’s a sign of something else as well; it’s a sign of courage. Courage to face a life in uncertainty for the betterment of their families. Courage to do the hard things for a stake in an easier future.
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