Pretty much pointless post

It's a wheel, of course.

Well, I thought with all of this car talk you might like to see a wheel.

Or maybe I had too much turkey. That could be.

The pie wasn't at all bad, by the way...

Chapter 1438: Wherein, amongst other things, Dee's father buys her a pie

We'll get to the pie in a moment. First, there's a couple of other things to take care of.

Other thing #1: Today's pointless photo features a Bad Cat. A slightly unusual Bad Cat. This particular Bad Cat isn't the most physically adept cat in the world, and while we know that she's capable of jumping up on things, it's generally after spending a good minute or so trying to gauge the jump. The other (Bad) Cat is always up on something or other, and has been known to sit on top of the fish tank now and then. BUT NOT ON THE FILTER. Sure, this particular filter isn't operating at the moment since Dad usually uses it as his backup in case the main pump stops, but still. If any Bad Cat could knock the whole system to pieces by accidentally slipping, it'd be this one. Bad Cat. Bad.

Other thing #2: Today's song, although I suppose I'd better give you a nudity warning. That bugs me, to be honest. I'm definitely on the side of those who think it's ridiculous that our society condones showing all kinds of graphic violence but completely freaks out at the sight of a nipple. I mean, everyone has nipples, right? What's the big deal? Having said that, this particular video has more than nipples, so if that sends you into hysterics don't bother to click the link.

If you do, though, I'll just say that the main reason for today's choice is that I find it really funny that a few years ago a car company chose it for their commercials. They must have heard "you've got a great car" and "I like you" and thought it would be perfect or something. Did they not notice that the very next line after the great car bit asks what's wrong with it today? The commercial always made me laugh, because it's so very common for ad companies to choose something that sounds "right" without bothering to find out the context of the song. If you're musically inclined at all it can be fun to play Let's Find the Inappropriate Song Choice, especially during the holidays.

Well, it's fun for me, anyway.

Speaking of holidays, it's time to talk pie.

Yes, finally.

It's Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada, and Dad and I will be having our turkey supper today. Since it's just the two of us we don't go to a big fuss, but we still manage to have a pretty decent meal. The turkey is small enough to fit in the rotisserie so we don't have the bother of oven-roasting (and besides, rotisserie turkey is only about fifty billion times better than oven-roasted. It stays moist, it's more evenly cooked, and, frankly, the taste tops any oven bird you'd care to show me), most of our fixings will be of the convenience variety; yeah, I know it's not gourmet, but as long as it tastes good that really doesn't matter to me.

One thing that seems to happen every year, however, occurs towards the end of the eating. I'll be enjoying my most-likely-too-big plateful, and it'll suddenly come to mind that it would have been nice to have a pumpkin pie for dessert. I'm a fan of pumpkin pie, you see. Actually I'm a fan of pie in general, so I guess it's kind of stupid that I've never made one. Stupid on the surface, anyway. In reality, it has a fair bit to do with the way I was brought up. The females in my mother's family had this weird sort of detente, you see. I've mentioned it before, but for those new to the program my mother's family was pretty competitive, and whether it was accidental or on purpose it seemed like the way to keep the peace on the feminine side was to not step on anyone else's talent. My grandmother canned, so my mother didn't. My grandmother knitted, so my mother crocheted. My grandmother made pies, so my mother made cookies.

As a result, I don't know how to make pie crust. Come to it, I'm sort of surprised that Mom ever taught me the whole cookie thing.

Anyway.

I've never made a pie. I could probably figure it out, but I've never tried. I don't usually regret it, but this time of year -- when it's too late, as I said above -- I find myself wishing that I'd made a pumpkin pie. Even if it meant the cop-out of a bought crust, I could still attempt the filling part, right? There's lots of recipes around. Heck... if I checked my mother's recipe box I might even find my grandmother's version. Every year, though, I don't think about it soon enough. And every year I find myself saying to my father that it would have been nice to have a pie.

Kind of pointless, really. Except.

Except that occasionally it gets results. When I came in to Dad's from work yesterday afternoon I opened the fridge to see what I could find for a quick lunch before we went out (more on that another day) and I saw A PIE. Seems that when Dad went down to get a few things for today's dinner he noticed the pies in the bakery and remembered that his idiot daughter bemoans her pieless state every single Thanksgiving, and so he bought me one.

He bought me a pie!

I know it doesn't seem like much, but hey! Pie! And who knows, it might even be a decent pie.





It occurs to me that this very wordy post has had a very anticlimactic ending... Let me see if I can find something to at least wrap it up a little bit. Ok, there you go. Slightly adult. No nudity.

You people and your nudity thing...

Even quicker post because now I'm really tired

There's either going to be a lot less... or a lot more blather about cars on this blog in the near future. Just saying.

Quick post because I'm tired

Another car thing, but this will be short: Have you ever noticed that when something (minor) goes wrong with a car, every other tiny (minor) thing that doesn't seem right -- that may have been happening for years but you didn't really pay attention to -- sets you completely on edge?

Maybe it's just me, then.

I wish I didn't have to have a car.






That's about it, really. Still not feeling wonderful, but slightly more functional. Apparently I'm just in that place where I can't ramble on uncomprehendingly but can manage to blather comprehensively. Or something. At this point, I guess I just don't feel like forcing it.

Later, then.

I'm so not going to describe my last few days

I've been sick. Miss-work sick, unfortunately. Anything else I say will only bore the snot out of you (but not out of me, worst luck) and reach into the realm of hyperbole since I reeeally want to be all whiny on you folks but am doing my best to hold it all in.

Ignore the grammar (or lack of same) in that last sentence, please.

On the bright side? My amaryllises are flowering. Two out of the five at the moment, which, as much as I like them, is plenty for a one room apartment.

They're funny things, amaryllises. Most people around here buy them as largely disposable Christmas flowers. Oh, you can keep them beyond that, of course. And you can follow all the directions the gardening books will give you for keeping them over to the letter, and you'll likely get growth the next year.

Growth of leaves.

Flowers? In my experience, not so much.

When I was given my first amaryllis (I've never actually bought one, come to think of it. They've all been gifts) I was a good do-bee and tried everything they tell you to do to get flowers in the next year. I lifted the bulb, stored it carefully; all of those fussy things that you're supposed to coddle the plant with. The result? Nothing. The year after that? Nothing. The only reason I didn't just throw it out was that it seemed a shame, since it was still leafing out. That was the year, though, that I got lazy about dealing with the bulb and just threw the entire pot out onto the balcony for the summer.

I brought it in when it put up a flower stalk.

I mean, sure it was in September rather than the optimal decorating time of Christmas, but it was a flower.

I still have that bulb. It flowers every year. I've even split it once. Apparently these things are into benign neglect.

Actually... most of my plants that do well are into benign neglect even if the books say that they shouldn't be. Maybe plants just don't appreciate being fussed over? It's possible.

I've since been given two other amaryllises and have five pots in all because of division. They all just live with the weather and the heat on the balcony in summer and then get brought in when things get colder or if they start flowering, whichever comes first. Right now two are flowering, two probably won't because they're the two I split up this year, and one can't seem to make up its mind. Not a bad track record for plants that just sit in a corner all summer, don't you think?

Well, I think.

And the fact that I've just written an entire blog post about amaryllises?



Shows how little my brain has had to do (or has been willing to do, really) this week.

You didn't miss much.




Bye now.

In cars

Today's pointless photo is not of cars, just so you know. It's of sunflower heads that have been scavenged by the chickadees. Since I chose the title I did, though, let's all take a moment for a technopop break...

Ok then. On to business. And I hope that I can keep this reasonably short because I was extremely wordy on both blogs yesterday. These things cost money, you know.

Well, all right, so they don't. I'll try to keep it short anyway.

I test-drove a car yesterday. It was a convenient thing to do, really, because one of the car companies (sorry boys, no free advertising) has a deal where, if your local dealership applies, they have a day where test-driving a car benefits a charity. In this case it was one of the schools in the town where I grew up, so Dad and I went down to the event and test-drove a car.

It was a convenient thing to do, did I mention? That's because I'm currently looking for a car.

Sigh.

Dirty Moe's not dead; don't worry about that. He's just getting on a bit and has had a couple of weird little things start happening. That's the kind of thing that leads to bigger weird things as a car gets older, so I decided that maybe it was time to ditch Dirty Moe before winter hits and the weird things start causing me worries. There's a problem with all of this, though.

I hate cars.

Well, maybe it's not quite hate. It's more that I only drive because I have to, I'm more or less indifferent when it comes to cars as long as they're working, and now I have to try to figure out what kind of car I should buy. This is going to suck.

It also sucks because I've been used to driving the same car for the last ten years or so, and I'm used to driving without a passenger. The idea of test-driving strange cars with an audience (an audience of one is still an audience, after all) makes me decidedly uneasy. So much so that yesterday I made Dad drive. Oh, I got brave enough to switch with him once we got on the road (even though the salesman was in the back seat. Um, yay me? I guess), but I sooo completely didn't want to drive that car when we first got down there.

Doesn't bode well for car shopping in general, does it?

Ah well. I did, after all, manage to get my olf self to do some driving in the end, and I didn't die either of nerves or embarrassment. That's breaking the ice, right? Geez, I hope so.

Anyway. I have a idea of things that I want, so that'll help. Nothing too big, preferably four-door just because it's easier to get out in small spaces, decent mileage, decent in snow (kind of a given in this country), reliable, not yellow... Um, that's about it, I guess. I'm easy to please, aren't I? I certainly hope so. The budget may not be quite so easy to please, but I guess I'll deal with that as I have to.




Cars. Bah. Who'd have 'em, anyway?

Chapter 1433: Wherein Dee tries to figure out what to post while waiting for a wash to dry

I'm so not cut out for painting.It doesn't help that I have the brush skills of a five-year-old, of course, but even worse than that is the waiting. Waiting for things to dry. And waiting.

And then maybe some waiting.

It doesn't help that I'm playing around with something a little different than my usual today. Read that as: I have no bloody idea what I'm doing. It'll probably end up looking exactly like that, too. Ah well. No one says I have to post it if that's the case, right?

It'll be the case either way, sadly.

So. While we wait... I suppose we could enjoy the daylily? No daylilies at the moment, unfortunately. We're well past flowers here at this point. I took some new, depressingly fall, photos last night but I haven't had a chance to take them off the camera yet. I'm not expecting much, because it was just dusky enough that the camera thought everything needed a flash. Best I'm hoping for is slightly weird, to be honest, but I guess we'll see.

Now, about a post topic. Anyone have one?

Oh, wait. Maybe I actually do. How about charity mail?

I don't get a lot of gimme letters in the mail overall, mostly because I don't have a lot of money to donate. I pay pretty close attention to the ones I do get, though, and I often wonder what some of these non-profits are thinking that we'd like done with our donations. Personally, if I donate to something I'd like to see as much money as possible go to the actual something I've donated to. I know that there are always going to be administration costs and things like that involved, but I have a great deal of respect for outfits that do all they can to make sure that the percentages of money going straight to the cause are high. You're much more likely to get my attention, ironically, if it's obvious that you've done the respectable minimum you had to do to get my attention.

And on the other hand?

On the other hand is the example of unsolicited mail that I got the other day. Note that I say unsolicited. This is a charity that I've never donated to, have never had contact with before, and had only peripherally ever heard of. Should I be impressed that they (and I won't say who the they is. Sadly, there are enough non-profits doing stupid things like this that it could apply to at least a dozen), without my asking for it, sent me a complete Christmas package of a dozen Christmas cards, two note pads, a pen, a gift bag, package labels, and envelope stickers? The postage bill alone must have been something to see, really. What a burst of generosity from this unnamed charity.

My response?

Sorry, you lose.

The heartfelt form letter/donation form accompanying your elaborate notice-me gift just made me wonder exactly what my money would be going to. I'd love to give you something to help *insert cause here*, but I absolutely refuse to give anything to the cause of sending how many other people a set of Christmas stuff that they weren't expecting and probably won't even want.

What an annoying waste.

And do these ploys even work? Are enough people guilted into paying -- let's face it, it's paying rather than donating -- for unwanted packages like that to make it worthwhile for the charity? There must be, or we wouldn't be getting these "gifts". That's sad, don't you think? It just encourages more waste, and means less money going to things that really need it.

And charities wonder why people get gun-shy about handing over their money? Frankly, I think people should be.

As for me, I'll continue to give my meager amounts to a couple of local outfits doing local good, and probably throw a few dollars in the Sally Ann kettle at the mall at Christmas. At least I know they won't be sending me Christmas cards.

And as for the charity Christmas cards I already have, here's the kicker: I don't send Christmas cards. Haven't for years.





Sorry, charity. Double lose.

I imagine my wash is dry by now. Time for the next layer. I feel like being a petulant child and saying that painting is stupid, but  guess I'll save that for next time that I'm frustrated with my lack-of-skill. I'm sure you'll all be looking forward to it, right?

Yeah, right, Dee.