The planet Mercury has turned retrograde. According to astrologers, this is not a good time to start new projects or books. If you’re found new books slow going, give old favorites a try until March 8, when Mercury turns direct again.
I was born on an Ash Wednesday, which I know because my mother tells me her father came to the hospital to see us, and he had ashes on his forehead. A few years ago, it suddenly occurred to me to wonder why Ash Wednesday was the kickoff for Lent. Lent coincided with the 40 days in the wildnerness, the palms of the future Sunday have their precedent, yet I could not recall a specific about the ashes, even though I attended church most of my life and studied religion at college and in graduate school.
Of course, as I went to research this post, I could not find links that confirm what I found before. There are several links about Catholicism, all of which say similar things–the use of ashes dates from the Old Testament, or Hebrew Bible, but its origins before that are murky. Ashes are a sign of repentance, humility, and mortality, all three of which figure prominently as themes of Lent. There is no specific text in the Bible that calls for ashes to be used on the eve of Lent; ashes were an adaptation to Lent as of about the 8th century CE.
The connection I recall, but cannot find, is between Ash Wednesday and the scapegoat. On Yom Kippur, two goats were set out. One was sacrificed to God, the other heard the people’s sins and was sent out into the wilderness as atonement for them. While Jesus’s 40 days in the wilderness is parallel to the goat that was sent off, the ashes are perhaps a physical reminder of the goat that was sacrificed.
In any case, the connections are murky and interesting, and have no clear antecedents in either the Hebrew Bible or New Testament. The image of the ashes on the forehead is a powerful one, and one that many people seek even when they forego church at other times. But it is not clearly grounded in early Christian tradition like most assume it to be.
For my husband’s recent birthday, I made a hot fudge pudding cake. We had friends bring over dinner, and afterward I dished up the cake with vanilla ice cream and gave small portions to each of the children, who are 3, 2, and 1 years old. I thought they would appreciate the treat, while we parents would appreciate that they hadn’t ingested a great deal of sugar and chocolate. Instead, we found ourselves on the receiving end of accusatory gazes, and demands for “More cake! More!” None of the three were able to be placated, and all were disgruntled about what they perceived as unfair cake distribution. Here is the recipe, which was easy to make, and turned out so well that it nearly caused a toddler riot. You have been warned.
Hot Fudge Pudding Cake
from Cook’s Country 2/2007
Do not overbake this cake or the pudding sauce will burn in the pan and the cake will be dry, not fudgy. Store leftovers, covered with plastic, in the refrigerator. Reheat individual servings in a microwave on high power until hot (about 1 minute).
Serves 6 to 8
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup milk
4 tablespoons unsalted butter (1/2 stick), melted
1 large egg yolk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips
1 cup boiling water
Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream
1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Spray 8-inch square glass or metal cake pan with cooking spray. Whisk 1/2 cup sugar with 1/4 cup cocoa in small bowl.
2. Whisk flour, remaining 1/2 cup sugar, remaining 1/4 cup cocoa, baking powder, and salt in large bowl. Whisk milk, butter, egg yolk, and vanilla in medium bowl until smooth. Stir milk mixture into flour mixture until just combined. Fold in chocolate chips (batter will be stiff).
3. Using rubber spatula, scrape batter into prepared pan and spread into corners. Sprinkle reserved cocoa mixture evenly over top. Gently pour boiling water over cocoa. Do not stir.
4. Bake until top of cake looks cracked, sauce is bubbling, and toothpick inserted into cakey area comes out with moist crumbs attached (see photos), about 25 minutes. Cool on rack for at least 10 minutes. To serve, scoop warm cake into individual serving bowls and top with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.
Baby Cakes: Put a fancy spin on this homey recipe by baking up individual pudding cakes. Spray eight 6-ounce ovenproof ramekins or coffee cups with cooking spray. Fill each with 2 tablespoons batter. Top each with 1 1/2 tablespoons cocoa mixture, followed by 2 tablespoons boiling water. Arrange cups on rimmed baking sheet and bake until tops are just cracked, 20 to 25 minutes.
I made yellow cupcakes with vanilla frosting for Guppy’s recent birthday, and dark chocolate cupcakes with the leftover frosting for Valentine’s Day. These cupcake recipes are easy, better than a box, and enjoyed by both kids and adults.
I can’t recommend Cook’s Illustrated and Cook’s Country too highly, or too often. They are tremendous informational resources with reliable recipes. I’m a self-taught cook, and much of what I’ve learned is from both magazines and the companion television show, America’s Test Kitchen.
Yellow Cupcakes
from Cook’s Illustrated 1/2003
These cupcakes are best eaten the day they are made, but unfrosted extras will keep in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days. To double the recipe, use 3 whole eggs and 2 yolks, and double the remaining ingredients.
Makes 12 cupcakes
1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (7 1/2 ounces)
1 cup granulated sugar (7 ounces)
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon table salt
8 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 stick), room temperature
1/2 cup sour cream
1 large egg , room temperature
2 large egg yolks , room temperature
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1. Adjust oven rack to middle position; heat oven to 350 degrees. Line standard muffin/cupcake tin with paper or foil liners.
2. Whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in bowl of standing mixer fitted with paddle attachment. Add butter, sour cream, egg and egg yolks, and vanilla; beat at medium speed until smooth and satiny, about 30 seconds. Scrape down sides of bowl with rubber spatula and mix by hand until smooth and no flour pockets remain.
3. Divide batter evenly among cups of prepared tin using 2-ounce ice cream scoop or heaping tablespoon. Bake until cupcake tops are pale gold and toothpick or skewer inserted into center comes out clean, 20 to 24 minutes. Use skewer or paring knife to lift cupcakes from tin and transfer to wire rack; cool cupcakes to room temperature, about 45 minutes.
Dark Chocolate Cupcakes
from Cook’s Illustrated 3/2005
This recipe does not double very well. Cupcakes made from a doubled batch and baked side by side in the oven yield a slightly compromised rise. It’s best to make two separate batches and bake each separately. Store leftover cupcakes (frosted or unfrosted) in the refirgerator, but let them come to room temperature before serving.
Makes 12 cupcakes
8 tablespoons unsalted butter , cut into 4 pieces
2 ounces bittersweet chocolate , chopped
1/2 cup Dutch-processed cocoa (1 1/2 ounces)
3/4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour (3 3/4 ounces)
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
2 large eggs
3/4 cup sugar (5 1/4 ounces)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon table salt
1/2 cup sour cream (4 ounces)
1. Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position; heat oven to 350 degrees. Line standard-sized muffin pan (cups have 1/2-cup capacity) with baking-cup liners.
2. Combine butter, chocolate, and cocoa in medium heatproof bowl. Set bowl over saucepan containing barely simmering water; heat mixture until butter and chocolate are melted and whisk until smooth and combined. Set aside to cool until just warm to the touch.
3. Whisk flour, baking soda, and baking powder in small bowl to combine.
4. Whisk eggs in second medium bowl to combine; add sugar, vanilla, and salt and whisk until fully incorporated. Add cooled chocolate mixture and whisk until combined. Sift about one-third of flour mixture over chocolate mixture and whisk until combined; whisk in sour cream until combined, then sift remaining flour mixture over and whisk until batter is homogenous and thick.
5. Divide batter evenly among muffin pan cups. Bake until skewer inserted into center of cupcakes comes out clean, 18 to 20 minutes.
6. Cool cupcakes in muffin pan on wire rack until cool enough to handle, about 15 minutes. Carefully lift each cupcake from muffin pan and set on wire rack. Cool to room temperature before icing, about 30 minutes. (To frost: Mound about 2 tablespoons icing on center of each cupcake. Using small icing spatula or butter knife, spread icing to edge of cupcake, leaving slight mound in center.)
Quick Vanilla Frosting
from Cook’s Country 4/2005
Cook’s Country
If the frosting gets too soft while you ice the cupcakes, put the frosting back in the fridge for about 10 minutes.
Makes about 4 cups, enough for 24 cupcakes
3/4 pound unsalted butter (3 sticks), at room temperature
3 cups confectioners’ sugar
2 tablespoons milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/8 teaspoon table salt
Using electric mixer, beat butter in large bowl until fluffy, about 30 seconds. With mixer on low speed, add sugar, 1 cup at a time, and mix to combine. Increase speed to high and beat until pale and fluffy, about 1 minute. Reduce speed to medium-low and add milk, vanilla, and salt. Increase speed to high and beat until fluffy, 30 more seconds.
I’ve noticed, and I’m not sure I’m happy about, my recent entries being more focused on parenthood. I don’t want this to be a mommy blog. I want it to be a testament that it’s possible to be a mom and to keep learning. That’s what my writing, book and movie goals are for. Yet the mommy stuff what I’m living most immediately on a day-to-day basis. I’m trying hard to find the humor and joy in the experience.
Earlier this month, my psychiatrist confirmed what had begun to suspect: my depression is worse, not better. The heartening news is that I’ve got a good group of healthcare people helping me, and a good circle of friends and family. The not-so-good, though unsurprising, news, is that depression sucks. This is not a pull-myself-up, cheer-up, look-on-the-bright-side kinda thing. Rather, this is being tired and angry, lacking focus, taking forever to complete simple tasks, and forgetting things. It’s having a bad day, every day. It’s like moving through mental, physical, and emotional sludge. It’s getting side effects from the medication without getting the benefits.
For distraction, I visit gossip site Perez Hilton. Like other readers, I was horrified when I saw that Britney Spears had shaved her head. Crazy and nuts were two adjectives that leapt to mind. Soon, though, I recalled how only a few months ago I thought about shaving my head. It was just as baby Guppy started hair pulling in earnest. My husband G. Grod talked me out of it; he said it was rude, as people would think I had cancer. I also probably wouldn’t have gone through with it out of vanity. My hair is pretty much my go-to, feel-good-about-myself asset.
It didn’t take me long to wonder whether Britney and her hard-partying, wacky behavior isn’t just a 25-year-old with too much money, not enough sane support, and a whopping case of post-partum depression. Like so much that has come to me with motherhood, I yet again realize that I can identify and empathize, but I sure as heck can’t judge. This is me, eating humble pie, again.
Every week, my husband G. Grod rues the day I befriended the cheese guy at our grocery cooperative. Because every week, I bring home new and different snacking cheeses, and every week G. Grod reminds me that normal people don’t spend close to $20 a week on cheese.
In my defense, the total cheese bill is not only for the snacking, or recreational, cheeses, but also for sandwich and dinner-ingredient cheeses. Also in my defense is that G. Grod, Drake, and I all enjoy the cheeses, so it’s not like I’m cheesing alone. And now that Guppy is a year old, he’s trying the cheeses, too.
I believe there are lots of things in defense of the $20 weekly cheese bill: demand for a variety of cheese produces a supply of varied cheese; money goes to a local, member-owned grocery cooperative; it’s gotta be better for us than Easy Cheese, right? (more, from Wired); many of the cheeses are from local farmers, so we’re supporting local agriculture. Trust me, I can go on from here. I have many failings, but rationalization isn’t one of them.
A recent week’s selection included a goat havarti from Natural Valley in Wisconsin; a cranberry and black walnut sharp cheddar from Prairie Hollow Farm in Dover, MN; and Big Woods Blue, from Shepherd’s Way Farms. Some past favorites have been Bucherone, a soft, brie-like goat cheese that turned up on the cheese plate at a recent dinner out; Mobay, a lovely looking sheep and goat milk combo; and Pleasant Ridge Reserve from Uplands Cheese Company.
While my cheese purchasing has yet to make our life unmanageable, there are some signs I may need to rein things in. I’ve already mentioned G. Grod’s weekly complaints. The other week as I approached the cheese case, R. the cheese man said, “I have something for you,” and disappeared into the back. He came back brandishing a cheese slicer. “I got an extra one of these from one of our suppliers,” R. said. “I figured if anyone deserved it, you did.”
I could feel guilty for buying too much cheese. Instead, I’ve used the slicer in good health and taught Drake how to use it, too.
I was researching an upcoming post on cheese, when I found the disturbing news that one of my favorite local cheese makers, Shepherd’s Way Farms, recently experienced a pair of suspicious fires, and hundreds of their sheep died.
There’s information about a relief fund on their site, but you can also support them by going out and buying their cheese. Our family enjoys both the Shepherd’s Way Friesago and Big Woods Blue. According to their website, you can find their cheeses “at most Minneapolis/St. Paul natural food stores and co-ops, Bylerly’s and Lund’s, and at specialty cheeses shops. You can also find our cheeses nationally at select stores and restaurants in California, Chicago, Washington, D.C. area, Iowa, and the Boston area.”
Both my husband G. Grod and my friend Blogenheimer sent me this link (via Boing Boing, I think) for The Cupcake Courier. While I love cupcakes, I find this a bit much. I made vanilla cupcakes for Guppy’s birthday. Unlike any other child I know, he started with the cake (not the frosting), and ate the entire thing with minimal mess. Then I used the extra frosting on top of dark chocolate cupcakes for a Valentine’s day party. I found my 13×9 Pyrex with lid was fine for holding and transporting eleven cupcakes. (G. Grod and I split one to make sure they were good enough for the party. They were.)
Recipes to come. It’s a non-napping day for the kids.
Bad news courtesy of Neil Gaiman: Dreamhaven Books, the independently owned book/comic/ephemera shop in Minneapolis, was burgled and trashed last weekend. Visit their site, buy a book and help them out.
My husband G. Grod has enjoyed these books lately:
The Android’s Dream by John Scalzi
Dzur by Steven Brust
#5 in my 2007 movie challenge was Kung Fu Hustle, which my husband thought I would enjoy. He was right. This is a strange, fun, darkly funny kung fu movie that wasn’t off-puttingly violent. I’m sure I got only a fraction of the references. Things kept happening that I didn’t expect; I was amused and entertained. This was a good mental palate cleanser after Pan’s Labyrinth. The clueless, overweight buddy in the movie reminded me more than a little of the character of Randy, from My Name is Earl.
My shows are disappointing me all over the place lately. In last week’s Veronica Mars, “There’s Got to Be a Morning After Pill”, Logan gets drunk and teary, then gasps between words to convey his anguish. Apparently he’s been taking acting lessons from Neve Campbell. Richard Grieco and his non-natural nose showed up so he could become a suspect. And Veronica and her dad talk about sex. I wish it were affirming; instead I find it creepy. Dick is funny and the best part of the show.
On last week’s House, “Needle in a Haystack”, the show did a 180 from the week before’s turgid rape drama. House was his glib, irreverent self as he tried to steal a wheelchair-bound colleague’s parking spot. Both attempts at characterization felt heavy and contrived. The earlier episode tried too hard to show House’s human side. Then last week’s stripped that away to imply an almost sociopathic disregard for others. Somewhere in between there is a nuanced, complex character. I hope.
On the Office, the parts of Michael were so frequent, and so painful, that I kept wincing. It’s a hard balance they do, but this week’s show of Phyllis’s wedding was too much in the pain range.
But then Bones surprised me. I had been so disappointed with it earlier that I was on the verge of abandoning it. But then Stephen Fry showed up as the shrink to counsel Booth. He was funny, humane, and gave me a great deal of hope that he might be a recurring character. And Brennan now has a love interest. Things are definitely looking up. There was a noticeable absence of crying.
One recent night the kids were in bed, and there were any number of things I should have done: resting, reading, writing, etc. Yet what I really wanted was to go to a bookstore. And when I tried to talk myself out of it (don’t need to, don’t want to buy books, what about the new book vow, etc.) I realized that I didn’t want to go book shopping; I wanted to browse.
Aimless browsing (aimless anything, really) is one of the casualties of this parent’s life. Trips to Target, the grocery store, the library, or anywhere else, are constrained by my kids’ short attention spans and my often depleted reserves of patience. But to browse? To wander hither and yon, with nothing to lead me on but my own whims? I went out directly.
With just over an hour till closing time, I browsed fiercely. I looked at all the Hemingway titles, trying (vainly) to figure out which collection of stories I read in college (turns out it was In Our Time.) I checked out the editions of To Kill a Mockingbird, since I’ll want a new one before I re-read it, and I don’t like the photo-cover TPB they sell at Target. I scanned the new-release tables, with their alluring covers and blurbs, but I was immune to their siren calls. Then I spent a good long time in the kids section going through the maddeningly subdivided board-book section. (Alphabetically by author! What’s so hard about that? I don’t need to look through Disney/Basics/Things That Go/Colors/etc.) I found so many gems in the paperback picture-book section that I had to take home a few. I Stink and Farmer Duck came home with me, but Mr. Gumpy’s Outing, It’s My Birthday, and Fables all went back to the shelf, amid much regretful sighing. I went to the register at the fifteen-minutes-to-closing announcent, and got a dollar off the price of one of the books because it was banged up, and because I asked. So yes, I did buy some books. But I didn’t go book shopping. I went book looking. And that was much more rewarding.
This week we celebrated Guppy’s first birthday, and our first year as a family of four. It’s been a year of big adjustments, as I’ve continued to struggle with post-partum depression. But I frequently tell Guppy that it’s a joy and a privilege to be his mom. He is a good-natured, smiling baby. He loves books and being read to. He splashes in his bath with glee. In stark contrast to his older brother Drake, Guppy is an adventurous eater, even with only two teeth. He says hi and ‘bye, and is very good at waving. He is not yet walking, but is crawling fast and pulling himself up, so it’s not going to be long. For all the challenges of this past year, I am continually glad that Guppy is here to complete our family. I’ve been able to enjoy his babyhood in ways that I couldn’t with Drake because I had a job and we were moving. And I look forward to seeing and helping Guppy become the person he will be.
#4 in my 2007 movie challenge was Pan’s Labyrinth, Guillermo del Toro’s horror fantasy. It’s mesmerizing to look at, so much so that I often had trouble dragging my eyes to the subtitles. There is a great deal of violence, and I sometimes had to turn my eyes away, too. It mixes history with fantasy, but with a darkness that is decidedly adult, even though the heroine is a young girl. I was reminded strongly of one of del Toro’s earlier films, The Devil’s Backbone, as well as the films of Hayao Miyazaki. It is not for the young or faint of heart, but it’s bittersweet and rewarding.
For several years now, I’ve tended to favor colors in pairs. These color combinations are then reflected in our home, and my clothing. Before we got married, I chose the towel colors of amethyst and peridot, though to be exact, the tones were too smoky and dark for those jewel names. After that came my flirtation with hot pink, paired first with bright orange, then with light lavender. For a long time, my infatuations with color pairs were sequential. Of late, though, I’m finding the mixing and matching too much fun, and too full of possibility, to confine to just one pair. Perhaps this is also a reaction to the drear of winter.
My current favorites are combinations of blue and green. Blue teal with olive, sage with navy, light blue with forest green. Shades are also good: sage with olive, and light blue with navy.
And while basic black is a mainstay of corporate drab, dark brown is a richer shade to work with. I pair tobacco brown with light purple. It also goes well with grey, though I have to be careful not to leave out an accent of some sort. Light blue is a lovely and striking contrast with brown. Camel is a good contrast of shades, but again, it can be drab without a bright accent like a colorful bag or piece of jewelry. Bright pink over camel is a way to brighten up that basic neutral.
If I feel at a loss, scarves are a source of inspiration. Great scarf makers, like Hermes, Ferragamo, and Missoni, are skilled at putting together unexpected and vibrant colors.
Most readers know that recommending books is a dicey business, made more fraught when one lends or gives a book. Because the recommender, especially if she is also a loaner or a giver, hopes (not unreasonably) to share the book she’s enjoyed, and wants to hear, preferably sooner than later, that you enjoyed the book as well. There are a few potential problems.
For those of us (I think there are at least a few of you who can relate) who make reading lists, and commit to certain books for certain discussions, and are enthusiastic patrons of the public library and frequent ab/users of its reserve system, a book loaned or given throws a wrench in our carefully (some might say obsessively) laid plans. It is good manners to return the favor of a recommendation/loan/gift by reading the book soon. All those other books that we’ve bought over the past however many years, the ones we swore we’d read soon, get bumped again. The reading list gets crammed, and we need to whiz through books we’d rather savor, put aside books already begun, or return books unread to the library that have been in our queue for months.
All these, though, are fairly trifling in comparison to the good will of a R/L/G. I feel petty and small as I write this, as it implies I begrudge the R/L/G. Some of my best book friends have been R/L/Gs!
And yet. And yet.
Is there any book scenario more perilous than when one dislikes the R/L/G? An analogy: several years ago, when my husband and I were still courting, he bought tickets to a ballet production of Carmina Burana, a musical work he liked. Wow, I thought, how romantic! The ballet!
After the show was a different story. I wasn’t feeling well that night, and had a hard time sitting still. When G. Grod asked me what I thought, I was less than gracious. I was, unfortunately, honest. “It was long. My bum hurts from the uncomfortable seats. And why did that music sound like the anti-christ was going to come swooping in at any moment?”
Poor young G. Grod. He’d taken the time and expense to surprise me with ballet tickets, and that was my response. Ten years later, this still comes up occasionally. I’m still sorry. But I still think of Damian any time I hear CB.
A similar situation happened with my sister Sydney, who sent me a copy of Wallace Stegner’s Angle of Repose. I loathed the book, so much that I was moved to write an article detailing why. It was hardly the response my sister had hoped for.
Even though G. Grod and I have years of experience of why R/L/Gs are bad, we still do it. How can we not? We love books, and want to share the love. We each have several books we think the other should read, and both of us have put those books off for some time. Perhaps that’s one of the benefits of being married lo these several years; we can take both the delay in reading and the potential eventual dislike of each other’s R/L/Gs with equanimity.
Books G. Grod thinks I would like/should read
Dune by Frank Herbert
Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brian
Gertrude and Claudius by John Updike
A Fire on the Deep by Vernor Vinge
A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again by David Foster Wallace
Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein
The Loved One by Evelyn Waugh
Books I’ve bought because I liked them, and I want G. Grod to read them
King Dork by Frank Portman
Black Swan Green by David Mitchell
The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield
Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose
Book I bought before I made my most recent book vow, that I want to read, and think G. Grod will like too
Arthur and George by Julian Barnes
the voice of nature, which tells man, in every thing given to his view or his feelings, to stay at home himself, and keep all under shelter that he can; Emma, Jane Austen
It’s very cold here in MN. We woke and it was -13. It’s a good day to stay at home and keep all under shelter that we can. The boys are sick again, and the nights have been interrupted. I may need to get out to combat cabin fever, but all non-critical errands are postponed until temperatures are more friendly to humans–say, above ten degrees F.
My husband G. Grod is a Philadelphia Eagles fan. Every season since Drake was born, G. has tried to watch the games and create an early father/son ritual. Unfortunately, Drake has never been on board with this plan. During his first season (he was weeks old), Drake slept through most of the games. During his second season (1+yo) he didn’t look at the screen at all, and ran around the basement, getting into dangerous items. During his third season (2+yo), he would watch a few plays, then get up, run around, and be distracting. And in this fourth season (3+yo) he would watch the TV, but be bored during the game, and fixate on the commercials. Progress has been slow, and not encouraging.
One commercial in particular got his attention, Dodge “Street” with rock-em, sock-em robots. Drake got upset at the violent robots, even when G. Grod explained that no one was in the truck, and the robot didn’t hurt the truck. Drake continued to talk about the commercial and the “bad robots” in a tremulous voice. It was in heavy rotation, so eventually, he was watching a game, the commercial came on, and no one was near the remote to pause or mute it. I heard his shrieks of fear from across the house. I spent some time calming him down.
This has now been weeks ago, and we still occasionally hear about bad robots. Something will remind Drake of it and he’ll become upset, or he’ll wake from a nightmare about them. We’ve been trying to invent examples of good robots.
In spite of individual hatred and a nomination for worst commercial, I’m sure the commercial will air during the Super Bowl, so Drake won’t be watching. I hope that the next several months will bring a bit of critical understanding so that he can like the game, and ignore the commercials.
Also, I’m not going to buy a car from a company that makes a violent commercial that frightens my 3yo and gives him nightmares. Nice one, Dodge.
I’m a frequent user of the library reserve system. My favorite of the three nearby library systems has a great site with a good search function. I’ve been true to my 2007 vow to use the library less for books, but I am still using it to reserve and borrow new DVDs and CDs. There’s a high demand for these, so the lists are long. I am often flirting with the upper limit allowed of reservable items, since some take months to come in. But last time I went to reserve items, I saw a notice that the library was limiting reserves to twenty items, down from fifty.
My first response? How can they do this? (Disbelief; I think it’s the Kubler Ross first stage of loss.) Then I was angry, then I was defiant. I went online and put several more items on reserve, pushing myself very close to the previous limit of fifty. Ha, I thought. Whatever this new limit is, it isn’t working yet.
I wondered if I should get a card for 3yo Drake so I could double my reserves. Then I realized, who am I fooling? Mightn’t I have a problem if twenty reserve items isn’t nearly enough? Are there support groups for library ab/users?
The next time I tried to reserve something, I got this message: There is a problem with your account. Please see a librarian.
I don’t need to see a librarian. The gig is up.
It was with some trepidation that my husband G. Grod and I watched Bones last night. Since last Friday’s wretched Battlestar ep, we’ve watched some dreadful TV. So much for absence makes the heart grow fonder. Heroes (why is there anyone but Hiro on the show?), Veronica, House all chipped away at our confidence in tv to entertain. And again, I think we can blame things on the frakkin’ crying. Bones was so bad that we fast forwarded through most of it. The only redeeming point is that Epps is now dead, so they can’t do any more stories about him. What does it say that one of the protagonist’s chief nemeses makes for the worst eps? Bones gets one more chance to be good before we cancel our Tivo season pass. Sweeps week starts tonight. Will it bring an increase in quality–were the shows blowing the crap out of their systems to clear a path for dazzling entertainment? Or will they continue to shovel faux-emotional drivel at us? And depriving us of good stuff while including said drivel? Some people should start looking at handbaskets, if you ask me.
Oh, Earl and Office, please don’t let me down tonight. I am tired, and need to laugh. (Brief, bitter memory of dear, departed Arrested Development. Gah.)