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Saturday, December 29, 2001 Some interesting thoughts: Biblical scholars claim that all of creation is about ten thousand years old. If that were true, there would only be a few stars visible in the sky, because light from stars more than 10K light years away wouldn't have reached us yet. The title of the book is from Shakespeare. Hamlet said "I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myslef a king of infinite space." This quote was repeated twice in the book, and probably has special meaning to Hawking, since it sums up his life in a nutshell. His disability has freed him to spend his days thinking great thoughts. In a way, I understand his freedom. When you're handicapped, you are seldom distracted by people asking you to help them move furniture, go to parties, or have sex. I still do all these things, but not because I am in demand. Hawking's wife has probably never asked him how long he was going to take getting those bookshelves built. I don't mean to diminish his genius, but I think that he is freer than most to explore it. FWIW, I recommend the book to anyone who's willing to consider new concepts. You'll find yourself disagreeing with a lot of it, but nowhere in the book does Hawking demand that you accept his theories. If you can read only one of his books, however, I recommend "A Brief History of Time".
I haven't updated lately due to the security breach at blogger.com. Here's a blog that I couldn't post earlier this week, the day after Christmas:
Christmas is finally over. If you came here for my thoughts on the true meaning of Christmas, you'll be disappointed. The horse is dead. We can stop beating it. I had a total of five days off for the holiday, and today was the first and only day that I could just hang around the house and do stuff I had been wanting to do. I spent the entire day in my workshop. Inspired by some woodworking magazines I'd gotten from the library, I thought I'd get the shop in some sort of order for that bookcase I should have built two years ago. After cleaning up for a while, I decided to build the doors for my shop cabinets. Rustic really isn't my style, but it's appropriate for a workshop. You don't want to waste your time, energy, or money on cabinet doors for a backyard shop, so I turned to my pile of old weathered fence boards that My father-in-law gave me a few years ago. They were just right for a job like this. I made eight doors, but I still have to get hinges and handles (or build handles). The ceiling of the shop is made of old corrugated tin. The smaller pieces of tin are being used as a wainscot around the room. Rustic, charming... and free. Janice spoke with an old friend in Baton Rouge today. She called to ask Janice to be godmother to her new baby. She accepted. Between the two of us we now have five god children, so we won't be completely forgotten when we die. This was a nice holiday surprise. Thanks to P. and J. for the honor. Monday, December 24, 2001
Janice has me printing up her Poppy Seed dressing recipe to give to friends and family. In case you're not getting the printed version, here 'tis.
Poppy Seed Dressing ¾ c. Sugar ½ tsp. Dry Mustard 1 tsp. Salt 1/3 c. Vinegar 1 T. Onion Juice* ¾ c. Salad Oil 1 ½ T. Poppy Seeds In a blender mix the first five ingredients thoroughly. Add oil slowly, beating continuously, and continue beating until thick (a few minutes). Add the poppy seeds and blend for a few seconds longer. Refrigerate. Serve over torn red-leaf lettuce with mandarin orange slices (fresh or canned) and slivered toasted almonds. *The secret is fresh onion juice, obtained by grating or finely chopping in a food processor, a white onion, and straining the juice. ENJOY! Saturday, December 22, 2001
My stephen Hawking book finally arrived at the local library. Not wanting to have to request it a second time (or, heaven forbid, buy it), I'm in the process of scanning the entire book onto a CD. So far I've only read the first chapter, and it's not covering anything that wasn't in the first book, but I've peeked into later chapters and it looks like interesting stuff.
Hawking, or someone on his team, decided that books would make more sense if they had lots of pictures. The new book is extensively and creatively illustrated, but I can't help thinking how well the first book explained things without all the graphics. Early on in this book, Hawking admitted that the first two chapters of the first book turned people off, and many read no further. I've met a few people who have told me that they stopped reading after the first chapter, so I could relate. I probably got through those first two chapters mainly because I had paid for the book and wanted to get my money's worth. At any rate, I found the book to be a real eye-opener, without tagging on an insulting title like "The Universe for Dummies". The "Dummies" label really does apply to me, but it's still off-putting. For the record, Hawking's books are: A Brief History of Time and The Universe in a Nutshell While at the Library, I picked up a couple recent issues of Fine Woodworking Magazine. That's something else I'll scan to CD, which is one of the original reasons for wanting a CDR and scanner in the first place. Ideally, I'll end up with a ready reference of CDs chock full of things that interest me. I've even found complete books online through Morpheus. Most are in PDF format. This could put parchment mites on the endangered list. Friday, December 21, 2001
Miranda,
I responded to your email, but you probably won't get it until you get back to work. Hope it helps, Jeff Thursday, December 20, 2001
Long day.
I was on intake today at work. The local media has been running stories about our kids, so we got a lot of calls today, including two from people who wanted to have a foster child over for Christmas dinner. For the record, we don't do that. Over all, we got more than the usual number of people willing to take older kids, so it was a good day. I had planned to sail this Saturday, but the chances of rain are increasing. This morning they predicted a 70% chance. Other sources said 80%. Yes, I'm still tinkering with Flash, but don't expect anything major here until I do somemthing really worthwhile. I don't have much time to mess with it right now. Wednesday, December 19, 2001
It’s 9:55 PM and I’m just getting back from work. I attended the annual Christmas party for the adoption kids. There were about three dozen or so kids there and several potential adoptive parents. It was a skate party at a local rink. The kids seemed to have a good time.
One child, “A”, came to sit with me and a couple who were hoping to adopt. She was very precocious and told the couple that she was eleven years old, going on twelve. I hadn’t met “A” before, but I had seen her pictures and knew that she was eight. I joked with her about it until she admitted her real age. She didn’t understand. An adoption event is no place to pretend to be older. She was definitely playing to a younger-is-better audience. Then there was “C”. The last time I saw “C” I was her caseworker, and she was in diapers. Now she’s in her teens, a half head taller than I, and still in foster care. I hope she does well. I didn’t bother to introduce myself to her. Maybe she doesn’t even know she had a caseworker when she was so young. Why point it out . I remember bringing my post-hole digger to her house to install a new mailbox in her front yard so they could get their food stamps. The next time I went to the house the mailbox was gone. C’s father ripped it out so the family couldn’t get to the food stamps without him. He needed some degree of control. The party ended with Santa and lots of gifts and new bicycles. It was a pretty good event and I hope it was a success. Tuesday, December 18, 2001
I just got off the phone with Katherine, the wildlife lady. She drove out to the spot where the owl was, and it was gone. She searched the roadside and later called around to other wildlife rescue people to see if anyone had picked it up. No one had seen it.
I could have handled it better if I'd only known what to do. She told me that I could have covered the owl with a towel, which would make it more docile (though it looked pretty dazed to begin with), then pick it up. She said to tell people to do that, then either contact a wildlife rescue pro, or call the local Wildlife and Fisheries office. Leaving it on the roadside increases the possibiliity that Bubba would come along and pick up a nice trophy for himself. She was encouraged by the fact that she saw no blood or feathers. This increased the odds that he had been dazed by a brush with a vehicle and needed some quiet time to recover. She said that birds recover quickly from concussions. One warning. If you come across a dead owl or hawk, you can get in serious trouble for taking it home. Even possession of a feather can land you in hot water with the law. She said that the law is a bit extreme, even for her taste, but it helps keep the birds in the air. Last time I went sailing, we saw bald eagles flying overhead. That's the payoff! Monday, December 17, 2001
Busy, Busy week!
During the holidays we seem to always be visiting. For unpopular people, we get our share of social engagements this time of year. After working Saturday (again), we went to Shane's for dinner. He and Linda were gracious hosts and we had a very nice time. They have turned their back yard into a small botanical garden. They lit a fire and candles on the patio and we had a great time. Linda's brother Randy demonstrated his latest project. He had built a remote control model airboat. Real airboats are used around here quite a bit. They have the ability to move over land as well as water. Randy cranked the motor and sent the thing zooming all around the yard. It worked great until it hit Janice's car and jarred something loose (on the boat, not the car). We got home around midnight and set the alarm for a full day on Sunday. Sunday we had my uncle's family over for dinner. They drove in from Baton Rouge and brought the extended family. There were their two daughters, the daughters' husbands, and two children, one of whom is my godchild. After a few hours of lively conversation, good food (crawfish etoufee) and digital photography, they gathered up the kids and headed back across the swamp to Capital City, USA. After they left, we got in the car and headed to Wilda's for her party, it was winding down when we got there, so the atmosphere was relaxed. When we left there, it was almost 7 PM and we were beat. Neither of us wanted to fall asleep so early, so Janice watched TV while I messed around on the computer until bedtime. Today, I had my monthly public meeting for Iberia Parish people who want to be foster parents. Afterward, on the road back to my office, I spotted a large owl on the side of the road. It didn't look dead, so I made a U-turn to get a closer look. I got out of the truck and approached it. It didn't seem to notice that I was there. I could tell it was alive, because it straightened up when the wind blew it. He never opened his eyes. This isn't the first time we've dealt with owls in distress. When we lived on the bayou, we had a large owl whose leg was in a trap. It had carried the trap to a high branch of a cypress tree, but could not go any farther. We called the local wildlife rehab enthusiast, a young girl in her 20's, who came to the rescue. As luck would have it, this woman still lives at the same address, so she was easy to find today. I gave her directions and she says she'll let me know what happens. One more holiday gathering tonight, at a co-worker's house. Just a little get-togeter, but I'm looking forward to it because her husband is an accomplished portrait artist and I've been wanting to see his studio. Friday, December 14, 2001 This painting is attributed to Fra Galgario, who painted in the late 1600s and early 1700s. It is one of a series of eleven portraits which we assume to be an incomplete set of apostles. This one was the most severely damaged, and had darkened quite a bit. This evening, I was vacuuming my dining room. I had to use a bright utility spotlight because of an electrical problem in that room. As I was ready to turn off the light, I saw the beam focused on this painting, and I could see its original glow for the first time. I had to take a picture. I know. I know. My home page is always in black and white, but the color didn't come through in the picture enough to do justice to the painting anyway. Now I understand why people put special spotlights on their artwork.
When I heard that Stephen Hawking had a new book released, I did what I rarely do-- I went to the library and requested a copy. I filled out the form (I may have spelled Stephen with a V). This is a departure for me, since I usually just buy the book, knowing that I'll never read it a second time (I'm trying to re-read his first book now, but never find the time).
Yesterday I got a phone message from the library. They said that the Harry Potter book I requested had arrived. I'm sure the Harry Potter book is a fine story, but I'm 42 years old and not the least bit curious about the train station with the fractional name. I was hoping that the librarian was so accustomed to saying "Harry Potter" that she can hardly get another book title to pass her lips. It would be an understandable occupational hazard. I got to the library after work today, and guess what... no Stephen Hawking, nor Steven Hawking, but Harry Potter, with my name attached. On the computer, they had a hold on the Harry Potter book, with my name there too. I thought of the ironies. Stephen Hawking was to adults what Harry Potter was to children. He opened new worlds and got us reading. Plus, if MAD Magazine ever did a cover with Alfred E. Newman as Harry Potter, he would probably look exactly like Stephen Hawking. Thursday, December 13, 2001
I come from a family of very compulsive people. I carry that compulsive gene and have learned to embrace it. It has made me who I am today (Okay, maybe that's not so good).
I have rarely held an interest in any one subject for very long. I'll stumble into something that catches my attention and I become obsessed with it. It consumes my thoughts all day, and I end up taking Excedrin PM at night to be able to sleep. I consider this to be an excellent personality trait. Of all my awful idiosyncracies, this is the one I wouldn't trade. Because of my micro-obsessions I am a decent chess player, woodworker, and artist. I am very comfortable with computers, and I can tell you exactly why clock hands move at the correct speed. While I don't have the time or attention span to become a renaissance man, I can at least be the condensed version of one. I tell you this because I have begun a new one. See my Flash logo on this page? Well that triggered a new obsession. Macromedia Flash is a program that allows the rank amateur to create simple animations and graphics like my logo, but it has incredible potential for programming creativity. The link I posted yesterday is a good example. In order to create something like that, you have to be adept at programming, which I am not. But it has captured my attention and I can't stop obsessing over it. I know I can learn this stuff. A few years ago, I bought a book on programming in C++. It was all gobbledy goop. It was worse than learning a foreign language. What made it worse was that I had no real application for it. I managed to create programs that could tell me the sum of two numbers. Who cares?! Macromedia Flash, on the other hand, gives you the application first, then lets you develop programing skills to manipulate what you have created. My first animated logo contained no scripts. I made it with the basic animation tools in Flash. Then I added the fade-in photos, which required a single line of script. This made things click in my brain. It gave me immediate gratification for learning a simple function. So now I want to learn them all. Macromedia's scripting language is similar to other programming languages, so I believe that if this obsession holds long enough, I could learn a thing or two about programming. Stay tuned. Wednesday, December 12, 2001
Had a rough day? Need someone to take it out on?
Try tossing this little guy around. I think I gave him whiplash :)
Well, I hope Mark and Shane had a nice lunch. My meeting went longer than expected, so I missed out on my second lunch date in as many days. I arrived at the restaurant as they were coming out of the door. Shane said, "Man, you need a new job!"
Where Have I heard that before?
Janice and Wilda have started a new thing. I think it'll catch on.
There's an old-fashioned country porn shop on the highway between New Iberia and Lafayette. Most area residents aren't very happy about it. A while back, Wilda was driving on that road when she saw someone walk out of the porn shop. She honked her horn, smiling and waving. The guy was really on the spot. There he was, buying porn, when he runs into someone he knows (at least he thinks he might know her). Now she does it every time she sees someone there. Janice has picked up on it and now she does it too. I did it myself once, but it's probably more effective if a woman does it. Tuesday, December 11, 2001
No wonder I don't get much done. I drove to Opelousas for my morning meeting, had to cancel lunch with Janice's parents to make it back to Lafayette for an afternoon meeting,. Returned my phone calls.. looked at some mail, and it was after 4 PM. One more meeting to go, then I can go home.
The afternoon meeting was for the purpose of scheduling all of our overtime for next year. C was heard to say "as soon as I find another job, I'm out of here." She's been saying that (and meaning it) for the entire seven years we've worked together. Saturday, December 08, 2001
AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!
I hate working on Saturdays. Today I taught my foster parent class. Not the regular class. This is the one for accidental foster parents, the ones who take in a niece or grandchild who’s in foster care. For relatives, we have a streamlined program so they don’t have to go through the lengthy process for regular foster parents. They’re usually not very enthusiastic. They already have their foster child. Often they’d rather not get involved. The regular foster parents are more cooperative and eager to get that first child. They bring all the documents we want and enjoy lively discussions in class. They linger after class and ask lots of questions. The Kinship people complain about the services they get, and hungrily encourage us to let them leave early, which I did. I drove to work in a thick fog. What a mess. Guess who I saw? Thaaaat’s right: Shane. He and a friend were presumably headed for Texas to shop for that new boat trailer. He sped past me, grinning and flipping the bird. I had been invited on the trip, but I had to work. “You need a new job,” Shane said for the umpteenth time. Every time we want to do something, I’m scheduled to work overtime. Shane never seems to work overtime, and he probably gets paid for it on the few occasions he does. Shane is about eight years younger than I, and he never went to college. He makes more money than I do, and learned his craft on the job. He was laid off earlier this year, and got an even better job within the week. I try to comfort myself with the thought that I’m doing important work (“Riiiiiiiiight”, Shane would say). As I mentioned yesterday, Shane seems to be responsible for my site traffic. Since he’s out of the state today, I checked my stats, and guess what! There are only four of you. Why don’t you all come over to dinner? There’s plenty of room, since my table seats six. btw: one ripe fig today Friday, December 07, 2001
What I get for thinking so well of myself
I had been enthusiastic over my site statistics lately. I've been getting 20-30 hits a day. I got my bubble burst this A.M. when I spoke with Shane. He seems to be responsible for all those hits. He checks this page several times a day (not sure why. I only post once or twice a day). Hi Shane. Since it's just me and you here, maybe we could just email each other.
We were at Wilda's last night when I mentioned the bloody chicken story (see yesterday's post). Janice said, "Jeff, that wasn't just while you were a kid. I've been to your mother's when bloody chicken was served." I guess I had forgotten how long it had continued. I know my wife well enough to know she'd never bring a piece of bloody chicken to her lips, so I asked how she got through the evening. "Wings" she said. "They're smaller and cooked all the way through."
Mom's cooking followed me even to college, 70 miles from home. Once she brought me her infamous Mexican casserole. I didn't want it, so I gave it to Phil at the frat house. He loved it. After he finished vomiting, he said "It's a shame I couldn't keep it down. It sure was good!" Thursday, December 06, 2001
Once again I mention conclave obscurum (see my earlier post).
When I went to the site, I signed up for the mailing list. I was eager to see new creations from them. Today I received an email from Oleg, the artist, saying that all 2000+ subscriptions have been cancelled. He said the pressure of so many people anticipating something new and great from him was too much to bear. Sometimes success is the enemy of creativity. I'll check in on him from time to time to see if there's anything new. I hope he doesn't find his site statistics to be too intimidating. I found the site through Linkdup, a portal site for creative web pages, but I've yet to find one I like more than Oleg's.
I've been having lots of fun with my new digital camera, but I'm starting to realize what a great tool it can be for work. I spend a lot of time visiting foster homes, and we often have outdated photos of the home and family in the case records. Now I can stay up to date. But the most unexpected benefit is that the camera can serve as a portable copy machine. It makes good closeup photos of pet vaccination records, insurance cards, drivers licenses, etc.
The drawback is that the camera doesn't interface with our old computers at the office, but I'm hoping that the new system, arriving June 2002, will be compatible.
This morning, Janice and I were discussing how many men are picky eaters. I can't tell you how many I've known. Their wives have to jump through hoops to arrange a menu that will offer some variety while satisfying hubby's narrow range of likes.
I'm a little on the picky side myself, but it ends at the dinner plate. By that I mean that, no matter what my preferences may be, I eat whatever is served. This is a trait that I learned as a child. In our home, you ate whatever was being served -- and you didn't complain. Being the child of a teenage mother made this especially trying. Mom was learning to cook in those days (she gave up a few years ago. Doesn't cook a thing anymore). She especially couldn't fry chicken. The crust was always a darkish brown, but the meat was cold and bloody near the bone. As I said, you didn't complain about food in our house, so we ate a lot of bloody chicken. Dad was just as bad. He was in charge of the barbecue pit. Since charcoal briquettes came in 20 pound bags, he figured that's how much you use for the fire. It always amounted to a bon fire that constantly flared up and charred the chicken. Though the chicken was black on the outside, we could always count on juicy redness in the middle. Dad, of course, never ate chicken. After I went off to college and got a barbecue pit of my own, I figured out that you could actually cook on a small fire. I thought I was a genius. Later, I started dating a Cajun girl whose mother was a fabulous cook. The girlfriend was a budding chef herself who grew into as good a cook as her mother. She married a very short man who eats what's put in front of him, only now he loves it. The topic arose this morning after a call from Janice's cousin Wilda, another great cook, who invited us to dinner. She's cooking a veal stew and polenta. Her husband, Al, will be having veal stew and mashed potatoes. Tuesday, December 04, 2001
We're always looking for bargains because, well, we're really cheap. But bargains can be a real pain. I need an oil change right now. I usually get a car wash and oil change in one stop at Todd's Carwash. Wouldn't you know it, Janice has a coupon for an oil change at one place and a carwash at another. I really need both, but going to two different places is likely to be more trouble than washing the truck myself (which I hate to do). I'd rather just pay the non-discounted price.
What's worse, they're not likely to fill my windshield washer. Before you call me a whiner, hear me out. For the last several years, I've noticed a correlation between running out of washer fluid and needing an oil change. They fill the fluid at the time of the oil change, then when the last of it his my windshield, and the sprayer makes that dry hum, I look at the odometer, and believe it or not, almost exactly 3000 miles have passed. This has happened too many times to be a coincidence. Todd's staff places a windshield sticker as a reminder, but it has been inaccurate by tens of thousands of miles. The washer fluid has always been accurate. Speaking of bargains. If you have a cd burner, go to Best Buy. They're selling a pack of 110 CDRs for $14.99 after rebate. This is the second deal like that I've picked up from them in the last couple of months. I have enough CDRs to last for years. Maybe I could start some kind of business. btw: Shane visited the website I mentioned yesterday. He described it as "Pink Floyd meets Blair Witch." Damn. I wish I'd said that. Monday, December 03, 2001
When was the last time a website gave you goosebumps? During a quiet moment, when you have enough time to adequately explore an entire universe of sensory stimulae, go to conclave obscurum
You will thank me. The Christmas season has begun in earnest in Small Town USA. We've decorated the tree and gone to the first of the local events. First there was the annual Shadows On the Teche Christmas party, where the fur coats get their first showing of the season. Tonight we had the Christmas parade. The parade passes in front of our house and is a decent little home town event. In fairly recent years, the little dance-school girls had been dirty dancing in an appalling manner. I think that the number of complaints became too numerous to ignore, so we're back to a wholesome parade. Thank goodness. Sunday, December 02, 2001
I've added projects to the sailing pages and an introductory page to the old-house pages. Check it out. More to come.
Happy Birthday, Shane!!! Saturday, December 01, 2001
In Louisiana, we're not known for our cultural compenence. Janice saw a local news story recently, which told of a large relief shipment leaving the state, bound for Afghanistan. The coordinator of the effort said that they were doing what they could to assure that it arrives by Christmas :) Archives11/01/2001 - 12/01/2001 12/01/2001 - 01/01/2002 01/01/2002 - 02/01/2002 02/01/2002 - 03/01/2002 03/01/2002 - 04/01/2002 09/01/2002 - 10/01/2002 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005 10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006 10/01/2007 - 11/01/2007 01/01/2008 - 02/01/2008 |
