Of Dwarves and Lexicon

Today I have mostly been just sitting around, lump-like; I have some sort of nasty cold thing going on that has elevated my usual phlegmy state from moderate to torrential (national mucus threat level: orange!). Not to mention the fevery business--yesterday morning I was so cold that no matter how many layers of clothing I piled upon myself or how many cups of hot tea I swigged down, I was shivery and miserable. And then by last night the pendulum swung the other way and I was a reduced to a sweaty puddle of overheated exhaustion. According to Jen, I have a fever, today, too, but I don’t feel quite so nasty.

I took Jen to a doctor appointment today; she had asked me last week so I couldn't leave her in the lurch. While I was waiting for her, I went downstairs outside the medical building to sit on the edge of the stone fountain and bask in the warmth of the sun. It was quite nice. The gentle heat and the gurgling water were so soothing I even forgot how bad I felt temporarily. And then I heard a voice--an adult’s voice speaking in high-pitched baby talk--ask me “Did you put your feet in the nice wataw?” I looked around, confused, and saw two women in their 60s walking arm-in-arm toward me. The one who addressed me was holding up a doll puppet on her arm at face height, and the doll’s blank frozen happy face was nodding at me, yellow yarn-hair wagging. It was the DOLL who asked me the question! Egad. Trying to disguise the fear leaping into my throat, I managed to say, “No” or some other stunted phrase in a normal voice. To which the doll said something else babyish as the scary puppet lady grinned at me. Fortunately, they kept walking throughout this exchange, so by that point I was free to let the look of horror wash over my face. I feel like I should have checked to make sure David Lynch wasn’t lurking around the corner with a movie camera. No dwarves speaking in tongues followed, so I think I’m safe.

I need to talk about something else now. Think of England! Think of England!

So, my mom sent me this fabulous link today: Free Rice. It’s a nonprofit website that donates rice to people who don’t even have enough of that to eat on a daily basis. Instead of just clicking a button to donate, you take a vocabulary quiz. Each word you get right donates 10 grains of rice. Sounds odd? Wait til you try it! It’s addictive. Now, I’ve always been a word nerd, but even if you aren’t, you should try it out--people will be fed and you will have made yourself a much smarter human in the process. I like that it keeps track of which level you’re on. It also reacts much like the GRE tests--it keeps asking you harder words when you get them right, and then switches back to easier ones the more you get stumped. Unlike the GRE, it is untimed, and you don’t feel like your entire future is balanced on whether or not you guess the next question correctly. If you are good at word roots, it’s fairly easy to figure out the definitions of words you don’t know. For instance, I got that hortatory means “urging” even though I’d never seen it before. Think exhortation. Fun, huh? Or maybe I am just a raging geek. Yeah, probably that.

How Not to Break into a House

Hey, great news everyone! Security doors really, really work. It took a trained professional armed with power tools and fancy cat-burglar equipment nearly 30 minutes to get through mine. I may be assuming things here, but I'm pretty sure that your average thief is usually going for fast and quiet when seeking to break into your house. Drilling and hammering your way through a security door is definitely neither.

Oh, are you curious about why someone had to hammer and drill through my door? Let me tell you about my day! This morning I was still feeling rather unwell (damn lungs), so I stayed in bed until I had to get up to shower for work, at about 12:20 p.m. Shower completed and feeling nearly ready for the day, I went downstairs prepared to drive to the brewery. Except that my car wouldn’t start. The battery was so unbelievably dead. Oh my. I’ll spare you details of the ensuing stressfest, but suffice it to say that by the time Chuck and my neighbor got my battery charged up, I had missed the 2 o’clock tour I was supposed to give at work.

Top this off with a nasty dose of freeway-choking holiday traffic, and you had a very grumpy and despairing Kathryn arriving at work. Thankfully, working at the brewery always cheers up my day, and today was no exception. However, while work improved my mood significantly, it did nothing to make me feel better physically. I was feeling like a train wreck by the end of my shift and SO grateful to be on my way home to some hot tea and bed and a book.

Urgh. Because I had to leave my keys in the ignition this morning so my engine could run, I locked the doorknob part of my screen door rather than the deadbolt. I had a bad feeling about it somehow. Well, those feelings came home to roost with a nasty sharp pointy vengeance. When I got home the door would not open no matter how much I pulled, twisted, and rattled it. I was nearly in tears. Home was SO close! And poor Sylvie was beside herself, yowling pitifully at me through the window the entire two hours I was locked out. Yes, two. Two. Hours. Jesus god! Chuck came over (how many times is he going to have to save me this week?!) with some tools to try to chisel it open, but all we did was break the tools we tried. So I broke down and called a locksmith. Chuck was kind enough to wait with me until he arrived.

Once the very nice young lock-picker got here, he basically waged a full-scale war on that doorknob. Because of the metal flange on the front of the door covering the locks, his usual tools couldn’t reach. So he took out his drill and stuck it right in the middle of the doorknob and demolished the bejeezus out of it. It was actually kind of pretty the way the metal shavings came flying out of it; it was a sparkly silver fountain, almost like fireworks. Pretty! Maybe I was just delirious at that point. At any rate, after a lot of drilling from different angles, hammering chisels into it, and using all sorts of pliers to pull out decimated lock innards, the thing finally came off. That poor young man sure earned his fee tonight. It was 10:45 when he left.

Now I have a gaping hole in my door (not quite so secure anymore) and a glittering pile of metal shavings all over my landing. Still, I am grateful to be inside my house. Home! This is what I’m thankful for--that today is just about over. Happy Thanksgiving!

Gimme Some Money

Hey everyone, I would like you to know that so far the PCD Fundraising Walk has been much more successful than I had anticipated. My goal this year was only $1,800.00 (compared to last year’s goal of 4K--which we surpassed!). As of this moment, we have raised $1,523.00. This does not include $400 of pledges that have yet to come in, plus the other money from people who have promised to help but have not stated a specific amount yet. Several of the good people who came to the walk event on Saturday told me they are still in the midst of asking for donations. So there is more to come!

I couldn’t be happier. Unless of course, you are someone who has not yet found the time to donate. Please consider it if you have the means to do so! It’s quite easy--you just go to the PCD Foundation website and click on the “donate now” link on the left. It takes you to a secure Paypal site. When you get to the "Review Your Payment" page, please click on "optional message" link (a little white plus sign in a blue square on the left) and write "San Diego Walk" in the drop-down box that appears. I know many of us don’t have any substantial funds to spare this year; it’s been tough for a lot of people. But even five little dollars will help, if you have it. Or three, or TWO! I want my two dollars!! If you can't, then my sympathies are with you and I wish you luck and support, since you need it as much if not more than we do.

While you’re at our website, why not browse around for a bit? Wouldn’t you like to know where your money is going? PCD is actually quite a fascinating disease; not usually fun to have, to be sure, but really interesting to learn about. I bet some of you didn’t even know that all of my internal organs are arranged backwards from yours! If that isn’t cool then I don’t know what is...

Here’s the photo of all the wonderful folks who took the time to not only extort money from their friends and coworkers, but to show up on a Saturday morning to walk around a lake in Mira Mesa with me in a much appreciated display of solidarity. There are six unpictured people who deserve credit but missed the photo shoot--Kiki, Iv, Sophia, Lisa, Jennifer (represented by her happy doggy) and Brett. Look closely--these are all very special people.


And since I used their song for the title of this post, here's the special bonus of a happy little Spinal Tap video.

The Best Thing I've Done All Day

Yesterday was a mostly quite yucky day--one of those days where everything seems to go wrong. But I went to dance practice last night and that sure lightened my mood. Dancing is good for you. And it certainly helps when the rest of your dance troupe is in a ridiculously silly mood. We spent as much time laughing as dancing--sometimes laughing at ourselves while we were dancing. At one point Jessica was collapsed on the floor with her hands fluttering helplessly because she was laughing so hard. That must have been after Evie improvised some of our song lyrics--rather than singing "wala zaman" she sang "I once was a man." If you've ever seen Evie you'd understand why it's so funny; she is one of the most feminine, curvy and decidedly un-manlike women you'll ever meet.

While today has been an improvement over yesterday's mini-catastrophes, I'm still feeling a fair amount of stress over many major things in my life, including the PCD Walk that I’ve organized for tomorrow (donated yet??!). But then something wonderful happened. I am in the midst of a huge laundry-washing project, and my bed is all stripped down.When I walked past my bedroom door, my bed looked SO inviting with all my pillows piled on it in a heap that I couldn’t help myself. I ran in, leapt high up into the air and did a huge bellyflop onto the pillows on the mattress. I was actually shrieking with laughter it felt so good. I’m still grinning like a fool as I type this. Try it sometime--I guarantee it will make you feel better. Who says kids should be the only ones to be silly and spontaneous?

Beware of Surrealism

Today I went for my first real bike ride since I hurt my knee. I have missed it terribly! In addition to needing the exercise, I desperately needed to get outside and into the sunshine. My vitamin D stores seem to be a bit low. I am so horrifically out of shape that I had to go fairly slowly; it definitely wasn’t my usual high-speed zoom around Mountain View Drive. But going slower has its advantages--I noticed many houses I’ve never really gotten a good look at before, and I pedaled down every single dead-end street that forks off Mtn. View and onto the edge of the hills overlooking Mission Valley. I stopped at the end of each street to survey the canyons and the freeways buzzing far below. At my last stop I could even see a distant blue swipe of ocean framed between the ridgetops constraining the valley (that's a picture of it up there).

I do love this neighborhood. It’s laid back and comfy; people walk their dogs and go for bike rides at all hours of the day. And nearly everybody I passed gave me a big smile and returned my hellos. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. The warmth of a stranger’s smile can be tremendous, and it made me laugh out loud with goofy joy almost every time. And then there was the old church on my way home where someone was playing the carillon, and there were a couple of older women stopped on the sidewalk, leaning against the fence and just listening to the wonderful noise of the bells. And then there are the cars sprinkled throughout the neighborhood bearing bumperstickers that say things like “Republicans for Voldemort” and “I Do Whatever the Rice Krispies Tell Me To.”

People in this neighborhood are are just downright creative; many houses have eccentric paint jobs or outlandish decorations, handmade signs and jumbled landscaping. This is my favorite “Beware of Dog” sign in my neighborhood. The owners also have several other multicolored portraits of their dogs displayed in two of their windows and on their garage door. I think you really ought to beware of dogs that look like this. They might bite you squarely on your sense of reality and permanently damage it, causing you to wander forever in a Cubist universe full of women with three eyes and one-sided faces.

Several Bats Firmly Ensconced in Belfry...

It’s true. I’ve officially lost my mind. I am going to my 20-year high school reunion this weekend. Please scrape your chin up off the floor for a moment and let me ‘splain. No, that would take too long; let me sum up. I am curious. I also want to put to rest some of the ghosts of mine who are still happily in residence in the town of El Centro, where I spent several years of my not-so-happy youth. Sooooooo there you have it: class reunions as therapy. I will report in a few days and let you know how this experiment worked. Wish me luck! I will need it, as I’m starting to feel rather stressed and incredulous about the whole thing. I’m goin’ in!

And now for some much-needed sleep. I only gave two tours at the brewery today since I’m still not feeling up to par as far as my lungs and general health are concerned...but then I stayed afterwards for our diabetes fundraiser and just general shmoozing for a solid five hours after my shift ended. Hey, that beer I had was strictly for fundraising purposes. Never mind that oaked Imperial Russian Stout in a cask is one of the finest beers I have ever tasted, hands down... oh my.

Thinking about my tired and beleaguered lungs reminded me to remind all of you fine folk that I am indeed putting on my sorta annual fundraiser walk for PCD this year. And it’s happening in less than two weeks! If I haven’t asked you personally yet, please consider giving a small donation to our cause. Or a big one! In all seriousness, the PCD Foundation really needs a substantial financial boost, and you can help. Yep. For more information on the PCDF or PCD in general, please go to our website here. You can donate online by clicking on the link on the left that says “donate now.” If you do, please kindly put “SD walk” in the comments box so we know how to credit it. We are a totally non-profit organization, and it’s 100% tax-deductible. Thanks so much, friends. I really mean that.

And for those of you not in the know, both my brother and I have PCD. It is the reason that the fires have messed with our health so much these past weeks, and the reason that I end up in hospitals every once in a while.

Just call me Joan

I’m having a not-so-good day today, so here’s something to cheer both me and youse guys up. Hopefully. Okay, two. TWO things to cheer us up. Thing One: Yesterday I worked at Stone for the first time since the fires started. The air was supposedly much clearer, but I’m not so sure now...but that's not the good part. At any rate, when I was on my break I read a very uplifting story in the local paper; something very welcome after over 12 days of bad news. An older woman from Fallbrook had lived in her house there for several decades and over the years became close friends with her next-door neighbor. Sometime in the last few years, the neighbor man came down with cancer and was gravely ill for a long time. He died a short time ago, and willed his house to the neighbor lady. She received the deed to his house four days before the fires started. The fires ravaged their neighborhood, burning her house to the ground, but you guessed it, leaving his standing. She now has a place to live, thanks to her friend. If that’s not wonderful I don’t know what is.

Here’s Fun Thing Number Two: Halloween!! I dressed up at work yesterday, and also went to my friends’ Halloween party. Those of you who know me well know how much I love to dress up, and I think I did a swell job this year. I would like you all to know that I sewed my own faux chain mail tunic for this. The whole thing. By myself. Without a pattern. Without anybody who knew what they were doing to help me. It was a monumental pain in the rear much of the time, and I’m sure somebody who knows how to sew could have made the whole thing from start to finish in under an hour. I won’t even tell you how long it took me...I spent about twenty minutes alone just staring at the sleeves and trying to figure out how to attach them....but suffice it to say that for a person who’s only ever sewed one other article of clothing in her entire life, I think I did swimmingly. It even looks like chain mail from a distance! I made it out of black knit fabric with an overlay of wide silver mesh. Here is the end result of all my hard labor:
Oh, and I really did cut my hair all off. I will spare no expense for the authenticity of my costumes. Joan of Arc did not have long hair, you know. Well, nor did she get burned at the stake in her armor (she didn't wear chain mail either), but how else would anybody know who I was? I also had a long piece of wood tied behind me, but it's not so obvious in the photos that it's attached. My stake only went down a few inches below the small of my back; I had to be able to sit down at work. While I was able to sit, having a long piece of wood tied to my back sure kept my posture amazingly and uncomfortably straight. Another unforeseen problem: Barbara had to untie it so I could use the bathroom. Consequently I drank much less water than I should have the remainder of the day so that she wouldn’t have to keep untying and tying me up again. Not that she was complaining...

Here are just a few of the guests at Natalie and Brenna's party from last night--Jen and I made her beyootiful flower costume all by hand. Foam mattress shapes covered by fabric. Neato, eh?
Being the good folk that they are, Natalie and Brenna know that Halloween is the best holiday of the year, and they treat it accordingly. They decorate the bejeezus out of their house and throw an eerily-lit party with disgusting looking food to eat. The main fare this year was a pan of baked stuffed intestines. They looked oh-so-realistic; mmmmmmm, tasty! Here is their bathroom, remade into a torture chamber where four unfortunate stuffed animals met a grisly fate (note the re-named toiletry items: kleenexes as gagging cloths, and the hand lotion was chain lubricant...). Make sure you take a closer look so you can see the poor kitty in the mirror hanging from the shower curtain rod.