Even in Morgue Town

Well, much to my amazement blogger lists 40 people in this small town with blogs. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, it is a university town and there are lots of students for most of the year, and lots of techno-savvy ones too. I still haven't figured out how to put a counter on the site so I can feel good about the nearly ten people likely to visit. If you can tell me, short and simple, please do (and that will make you no. 1 !).

I can't believe it is December already. Time flies when you are having fun. Still, it makes me want to dash madly about buying gifts, and then the realization hits that there are so many fewer people to buy them for. Morbid, I know, to always pick at what you don't have while ignoring what you do. I'm trying to change. Meanwhile I shall revel in the knowledge that come Christmas eve there will also be many fewer gifts to wrap, a job I have always hated. I mean, it preserves the suspense, but doesn't it seem kinda foolish to buy reams of brightly colored paper and ribbons that will end up in a landfill somewhere, all their shiny crispyness faded and tattered? I strikes me the same way when I look at quilts, all those big whole pieces of fabric, cut up into these teeny tiny pieces and then laboriously sewn back together again to make a big whole piece of fabric. As Mr. Spock would say "This is not logical". Originally, of course, quilts were made of leftover scraps of cloth from garment-making, and it was frugal to use them to make something that kept you warm and looked nice too. But now there are companies whose sole product for sale is fabric squares (fat quarters, they're called) in a million and one designs, color coordinated and ready to be cut and stitched. I know because I have bought fabric from them. I only made one quilt, that was enough for me to know that my star did not shine in the precision sewing firmament. I was heartily sick of the damn thing by the time I finished, the only reason I ever got it done was an extended period of unemployment where I worked on the quilt 40 hours a week, 8 hours a day, until it was done. Start to finish, it took me 3 years to complete (only 6 months unemployed, tho) and of course is far too precious to actually USE. See Mr. Spock, above.

We had a gigantic wind storm here night before last, toppling trees and severing power lines across the state. I feared for the barn roof, but all was intact come daylight, although the horses were in a swivet, panic-y and quivering. Not much to do about it but wait for calmer weather. They would have been safer if left outside, rather than in their stalls, if I thought they would use the sense god gave baby ducks and stay put. But I know they'd RACE up and down, risking running through fences and twisting limbs to get away from the big windy beasts out there. Horses, not your brightest animal in the world. They certainly are a testament to the value of domestication, they would surely be extinct by now without it. So would cattle and sheep, come to think of it, must be why domestication worked in the first place, the animals were so dumb they didn't realize what they were letting themselves in for. (Damn, there's a preposition again. Why do they always fit in at the end?) Anyway, with the power outages that came and went, we realized several important things. One, the UPS on the computer is an unmitigated nuisance at night, the whole while it's powering your computer up on batteries it's beeping. Look at me! Look at me! Easier to just shut the computer off, period. Two, the flashlites have swell battery life these days of alkaline long-life, BUT they still refuse to be found in the dark. Don't you think flashlights should be made glow-in-the-dark, so you can find them? But no, all the glow-in-the-dark stuff is used for stickers and cereal and party necklaces. I freely give this idea up for someone to develop. Three, radio stations in little towns suck at telling you what is going on locally when there is a problem, they use a generic 'stay in if you don't have to be out' and think they've performed some mighty public service. How do we KNOW if we don't have to be out if no one is reporting the situation? Oh heck, spin another record, we didn't have a battery powered radio anyway.

The cats are complaining nonstop now that the weather is getting colder. Cats are the only creature in the world, I'm sure, who will lie in the sun on days when it's hot enough to blister paint, and who huddle up one inch away from a blazing fireplace when the room is already hot enough to toast marchmallows. Thermal recharge we call it. Not to be confused with solar recharges, when they bask in the sunlight, getting up from a perfectly good nap to move 6 inches to the left and thus follow the sun as it shines through the window. THAT's why cats' eyes shine in the dark, from their solar charge! Didn't know that, did you?

See, I knew I'd find stuff to write about once I started, the real trick is going to be shutting me up.