Six Weird Things

I don't usually do memes, because I assume the majority of people don't have an interest in trivial bits about yours truly. But since Gretel tagged me, I'll answer the call. Hereafter be six slightly peculiar things about me:

1. Far from what the feminine stereotype might suggest, I hate shopping for clothes. Absolutely loathe and despise the very idea. This probably has something to do with my being fat, but I also remember dreading the whole let's-go-shop-for-clothes process when I was young and skinny. I once sat and cried over a dark laundry load that had been spoiled by remnants of bleach from the previous load, at least in part because my pants (read "trousers," if you're British) were ruined -- and that meant I would be forced to go out and buy new ones. The horror.

2. The only mundane thing I hate worse than shopping for clothes is having my picture taken. I'd honestly rather have my hair cut with a cheese grater while chewing on tinfoil. I attribute this photo-phobia to a childhood obsessively captured on film by my maternal grandfather, who was a minor camera junkie. I hated being followed with a movie camera every Christmas and vacation and trivial event of my life. The last time I was willingly photographed was when Captain Midnight and I were married.

3. I call my navel my "bukie." (It's pronounced BOO-key, not BOOK-ee.) Everyone in my immediate family does, too, and I was nearly an adult before I realized this wasn't a universally-recognized term for the belly button. It comes from the influence of my Dutch great-grandmother; apparently the word "bukie" is derived from a Dutch slang term for the navel. Incidentally, my family also sings the traditional Dutch birthday song -- all four lengthy verses, followed by the English "Happy Birthday To You" -- to the birthday boy or girl. Our birthday candles really get a workout. Since my generation doesn't speak any Dutch, we sing completely phonetically (and probably with horrible pronunciation).

4. There are well over 60 herbs and spices on my kitchen spice rack, and all but a few see regular duty in my kitchen. I believe it is possible to cook fantastic food from very simple and humble ingredients, as long as you know how to spice it up.

5. I am 37 years old and I have no tattoos, no pierces (not even on my ears), and no cavities. The only surgery I've ever had done was to get my wisdom teeth removed -- well, actually, I had 3 1/2 wisdom teeth removed. The roots of the fourth wisdom tooth are still in my jaw because they were wrapped around a nerve ending and my dentist was afraid he'd do permanent nerve damage if he tried to remove them. My hubby Captain Midnight claims I am "as close to factory specs as possible." Um, is that a good thing?

6. I like canned asparagus, durian (in small doses), rare-cooked steak, elk meat, most kinds of sashimi, and pickled herring. As a matter of fact, there are very few foods I've tried that I don't like, and I'm usually willing to try something new as long as it isn't overly gorge-raising (i.e. I'm not likely to eat anything featured on Fear Factor). The few foods I simply cannot stomach include celery, hard-boiled eggs and lima beans.

And there you have it! If anyone else wishes to take up the gauntlet, let me know.

Now what?

I have a question for all you writers out there (and I know you're out there): how do you come up with compelling endings for your stories? I tend to start out at a good clip and then get bogged down somewhere in the middle. This is a problem for me at the moment because I'm working on a story for a friend which I need to finish, but it can't have just any old ending -- it needs to be one that makes the story worth reading. Not necessarily a twist ending, since I'm not much like M. Night Shyamalan, but something worthwhile. Anyone have any exercises to get those creative juices flowing?

Newer, tastier, etc. blogjams!

Well, I've upgraded to the new Blogger (now with 100% more Google!), so we'll just have to see whether it's smooth sailing or not.

I'll admit it -- I often resist changes. As a child I was so wed to the status quo that I couldn't stand the thought of moving from one house to another in the same town. I'm sure my hubby the Air Force brat would find that amusing.

Anyway, I didn't like the thought of switching to a Google account in order to make the new Blogger work, and I'd already seen some glitches in action, so I took my own sweet time about it. Then, at some point today, I realized: well, kiddo, your resolution this year was to stop disappointing people with your inveterate slowness. Might as well bite the bullet on this one and get used to getting things done now, rather than later.

So here I am. Can you read me now? Good.

Sibling spotlight #1: Julie

I have always had reason to be proud of each of my siblings, for different reasons. Today I'd like to tell you why I'm proud of my sister Julie.

Ever since she was small, Julie has had a keen interest in the world around her and in relating what she observes as honestly as possible. She is a strong runner, and a trophy she won when she was younger declares that she is the Goddess of Speed. I may have two speeds, but Julie has only one: FAST. She is one of the most dedicated and hard-working people I know, and she is always pushing herself -- not just physically, but mentally as she expands her life in new directions. A year ago, she gave up a job at a prestigious university to return to graduate school so she could pursue dreams of becoming a film producer.

Although Julie adores film -- especially silent film and Golden Age musicals -- it is not her only passion. She also works in collage, making elaborate and beautiful images with paper cutouts. Julie writes well and expressively, with keen observation, and has taken a writing course to improve her abilities. She is well versed in music and listens to a diverse range of styles, and often makes mix CDs for family and friends.

I have continually been amazed at the kinds of things Julie has done for her friends. She will go to great lengths in the effort to make sure they are happy and having a good time. She has invited friends home to share Christmas with our family, knowing that they will be welcomed at our house. Often she wears herself out for their sakes.

Julie does some of these things because she wants very much to be admired. Sometimes, when she is feeling depressed, she allows herself to believe that her friends only like her for the things she's done, not for who she is inside. I wanted to remind her of something, and I think Fred Rogers put it simplest and best, so I'll use his words.

It's you I like,
It's not the things you wear,
It's not the way you do your hair--
But it's you I like
The way you are right now,
The way down deep inside you--
Not the things that hide you,
Not your jobs--
They're just beside you.

But it's you I like--
Every part of you,
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings
Whether old or new.
I hope that you'll remember
Even when you're feeling blue
That it's you I like,
It's you yourself,
It's you,
It's you I like.

I love you, Julescat.

Oh yeah, that's the stuff.

I can't sleep right now, but shortly that will be remedied, because I've made myself a steaming cup of my Auntie Marcia's Warm Elixir and have been sipping at it blissfully for the past few minutes.

Auntie Marcia (who is a lovely and talented person, and a rather snazzy jewelry-maker if I do say so myself) made her Warm Elixir for me many moons ago. It's a lovely alternative to hot chocolate and worlds better than simple warm milk as a sleep inducer. There isn't really a recipe as much as a procedure. Here's what I did:

In a small saucepan, I sprinkled some good aromatic cinnamon and threw in three or four green cardamom pods (cardamom powder would've worked fine as well). I let them heat up, dry, on the stove for a bit, just to get the aroma going, then tossed in maybe a quarter-cup of evaporated milk and whisked it around. Then I added some regular milk -- about 1 1/2 cups, I'd guess, but I just eyeballed it -- and enough sugar to taste. Let that heat, stirring with a whisk until it got frothy and the mixture expanded a bit. Once it seemed well incorporated and hot enough, I took it off the heat and added a splash of vanilla extract and a splash of almond extract. And since I like my elixir warm and not scalding, I cut the heat some by adding a bit more cold milk. Into a cup it went, then into the Soozcat.

Oh, it is good.

SOSF packet!

Well, we got back to Oregon on New Year's Day. There was no mail the next day, since it had been declared a national day of mourning for the late President Ford. But on Wednesday we received all the mail that had been waiting for us since we left... and among the bills and cards and other flotsam?

Yay! A Christmas packet from Joanna! (And yes, Joanna, it did come on time -- Christmas doesn't officially end until Twelfth Night, January 6, so this packet arrived well within the Christmas season.)

Included herein were the following delights:

1) card for li'l ol' me, complete with a sketch of Captain Rupert nibbling fairy lights
1) handpainted garland of Christmas stockings and trees
1) small Christmas charm of two bells, which I will be wearing as a necklace next Christmas
3) printed Higglety Pigglety cards, one of which I have already pressed into use
and 1) handmade and handpainted Christmas card which is far too lovely to use!

I am cavorting with glee. Many thanks, sweet fairy Joanna.

Also I am inordinately pleased with the look of our hall closet. Behold the mighty stack of Christmas cards (garnished with origami stars made by Gretel, who assures me she's getting her 'gami game on in 2007):

All I need now to complete the festivity is a fez. As they point out in the video game Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis, "With a fez, one becomes truly fez-tive!"

(No, nobody needs to send me a fez. I suppose I could make an origami one...)