HTML Lesson for Blog Comments

If you need a clear lesson on how to use HTML code to enhance your blogger comments with italics, boldface and hyperlinks, check out this post by Robert Lindsay.

Stress Test: Do You Need A Vacation?

The picture below has 2 identical dolphins in it. It was used in a case study on stress levels at St. Mary's Hospital.

Look at both dolphins jumping out of the water. The dolphins are identical. A closely monitored, scientific study revealed that, in spite of the fact that the dolphins are identical, a person under stress would find differences in the two dolphins. The more differences a person finds between the dolphins, the more stress that person is experiencing.

Look at the photograph and if you find more than one or two differences you may want to take a vacation.

Kiss My Nose

The Most Beautiful Rainbow

While catching up on the dozens of email messages that accumulated while I was in hospital for four days I came across this timely one, forwarded by a friend back home in Indiana:

The Most Beautiful Rainbow

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that
wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You
will have your heart broken probably more than once and
it's harder every time You'll break hearts too, so
remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight
with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things
an old one did. You'll cry because time is passing too fast,
and you'll eventually lose someone you love.. So take too
many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never
been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset
is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. Don't be
afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never
begin.

Beautiful, just beautiful. Thanks, Stacie.

Green Bananas

There's a bittersweet old joke that comes to mind today:

"Doctor, Doctor, how much time do I have left to live?"

"Let's put it this way. Don't buy green bananas."

For the last few days I thought that I'd bought my last green banana because I've been very ill and in hospital until noon today. I have felt pretty grim and a little afraid that this was how I would end my days. It's a sobering thought. The doctor on call booted me out today, which is okay by me. It's good to be home again.

We stopped for a few groceries on the way home from the hospital and bought some green bananas, a symbol of hope for us both.

Animated Juggler

This blows my mind!



I found this and a lot of other quirky humor and insights on Milt's Page.

A Different Kind of Senior Moment...

(click on image to enlarge)

Webware 100: Vote Now!

Be sure to vote for Clipmarks and Pageflakes and Google and, of course, Blogger! Go here to vote--odd that the link wasn't built into the "I voted" badge...

Ode to a Clean Refrigerator (or Look Who's Crying Over Spilled Milk)

Spring Cleaning forced itself upon me yesterday when the top shelf of our refrigerator dropped on one side, upsetting the pitcher containing the recently opened 1.33 litre bag of milk (oh how I miss screw-capped milk jugs!). Milk quickly drenched the second and third shelf items, seeped into the crisper drawer and puddled on the floor of the fridge. To make matters worse, the dangling shelf upset a can of black beans that my beloved had opened less than an hour before while making me a tasty mid-morning wrap, spilling black bean juice that flowed along the second shelf and ran down to the third shelf. The bottoms of many bottles, cans and other containers of food were engulfed by either milk, black bean juice, or both. Ugh!

On the bright side, the refrigerator was long overdue to be cleared of the detritus that settles upon all but the obsessive-compulsive clean freaks, so the end results of the clean up, which entailed removing everything from the shelves and crisper drawers, was gratifying. The down side was that with my blood pressure looming so high of late this was chore that was risky as well as gross. The experience inspired me to write this poem today:

Ode to a Clean Refrigerator

Legumes languishing fuzzily in opaque cottage cheese
Containers so carefully washed for reuse join the
Dried husks of once-broccoli and the slimy remains of
Lettuce putrefying beneath a bag of carrots in the dreaded
Crisper drawer, decaying remnants of forgotten meals,
Exiled to the compost heap of life.
Worm food.

Gleaming chrome, sparkling glass shelves, and brilliantly white molded
Surfaces bask in the glory of redemption from
Sticky residues of opened jars carelessly set and
Spatters of unknown origin defiling the Clean, embedded with
Particles drawn in on currents filled with motes and fur,
Wiped away by my unwilling hand.
House work.
-----

From now on our milk will be transferred to a screw-capped jug--no more plastic bags with the tips cut off, waiting to topple and drench the contents of the refrigerator. (A quick Google search let me know that I'm not the only one annoyed by Canadian milk bags). Also, my beloved has promised to refrain from setting opened cans of beans or other foods in the fridge--he will cooperate in storing the food in sealed plastic containers, preferably clear ones to enable us to view their contents. Hopefully there will be no more crying over spilled milk...or other liquids...in the refrigerator!

For an interesting article about milk, including history, production, varieties, distribution (including packaging!), and culture aspects, take a look at this Wikipedia offering.

And for a fairly brief yet comprehensive history of the refrigerator see The History of the Refrigerator: The Cold Truth and Hard Facts, by Marjorie Dorfman at House Not So Beautiful "where dirt and chaos reign supreme". Sounds like home, except, for the moment, my clean refrigerator.

So it goes.

Male or Female???

Should you be MALE or FEMALE?* created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Either You brain is neither specifically male, nor female in the way you perceive your surroundings. As bad as this may sound to some, it can easily mean that you are capable of combining both gender aspects to your advantage. Rather than being genderless you are possibly able think freely. This does not mean that you are bisexual or androgynous or indecisive, but it might. Either 82% Female 64% Male 64% Neither 61%

Interesting result, eh? Of course I'm not surprised at all at my results, as I've never been a girly girl or a tomboy. When I was a university student long ago in Indiana a male classmate once told me that he liked me because I thought like a man. I was flattered, and obviously have always remembered his compliment. I supposed that the fact that I took his statement as a compliment confirmed his assertion.

I've always felt more comfortable in the company of men than with women. One of the few memories I have of my childhood is of an extended family get-together in my grandparents' hometown. Quickly bored by the women gossiping as they cooked in the kitchen, I sat in the living room with the pipe-smoking men, who were watching some ballgame on television and speaking much less frequently and *gossiply*. The cattiness of women appalls me.

For many years I was spared the disillusionment of learning that men can be just as catty and gossip just as much as women, but in the early 1990's some university professors put an end to my naivety. Now I don't trust any one, male or female.

Sad, puzzling news

Last night I heard the sad news that the Canadian crossword champion's funeral took place yesterday. He was buried six down and three across.

O Canada

It's been quite a while since I posted anything about the seal hunts in Canada, primarily due to frustration with the Canadian government's unwavering stance on the issue. My misanthropy is exacerbated by the callousness and barbaric maliciousness of people in general when it comes to the empathetic and ethical treatment of animals, including other humans. To be, and acutely feel, powerless to stop the cruelty causes me so much anxiety and depression that I can barely function. Combined with the seriousness of my husband's health problems for the past year and a half, and the uncertainty of how and where we will live from now on, my stress and distress levels have been excruciatingly high for some time now.

I do what I can to cope, and on occasion take the opportunity to sign a petition or send a letter pleading with officials to stop cruel acts over which they have jurisdiction or influence--not only for the beleaguered seals in Canada, but for wild and captive animals everywhere. It sucks that I can't do more than be an armchair activist. Life sucks much of the time. However, once in a while the stars are aligned such that a bit of enlightenment comes my way at a time when I feel up to writing a post that has at least some substance to it.

I am sick of excuses and rationalizations for animal cruelty. I don't understand the mentality of those who perpetrate and support the barbarism. I wish that I could stop them.

More Spam

Speaking of spam, I find it amusing that each time I go to my gmail spam folder to check for legitimate emails that have been diverted there in error Google Web Clips provides me with a link to a SPAM™ recipe such as this one, received today from RecipeSource:

SPAM PRIMAVERA

Recipe By :
Serving Size : 8 Preparation Time :0:00
Categories : Misc

Amount Measure Ingredient -- Preparation Method
-------- ------------ --------------------------------
1 cn Spam, cut in strips
2 Carrots, thinly sliced
1 Zucchini, thinly sliced
1/4 c Finely chopped onion
1 Garlic clove, minced
6 tb Olive oil, divided
1 9 oz package linguini,cooked
1/2 c Grated parmesan cheese
2 tb Lemon juice
1/4 ts White pepper

1. In a large skillet, cook Spam, carrots, zucchini, onion and garlic in 3 Tbsps olive oil until vegetables are crisp and tender.

2. Toss together linguini, vegetable mixture, parmesan cheese, 3T olive oil, and lemon juice until well coated. Serve immediately.

Source: Geo. A Hormel Co, 1992

If you click on the SPAM™ link you'll have access to a whole new world of Spam. An auditory and visual PR trip: Wild!



For a look at SPAM™ versus e-mail spam, check out this Forward link.

Spammer Names

Did you ever wonder how spammers come up with the names they use when they invite you to get out of debt quick or hit her G spot all the time or claim your free Viagra...? Names like Windo Bonestitcher or Hapless C. Mudflap or Washer Poultice used to cause me to wrinkle my brow, purse my lips, and wonder where on earth these names come from. Now I have a clue, and have been given my own spammer name:

My spammer name is Shall W. Collage.

Enter your name to get yours:

If you're lucky you just might find Shall W. Collage in your spam folder one of these days, inviting you to Be a shagedelic casanova. Yeah baby! Yeah!!

A Complicated Order

A Complicated Order

A resident in a seaside hotel breakfast room called over the head waiter one morning and said, "I want two boiled eggs, one of them so undercooked it's runny, and the other so over cooked it's tough and hard to eat. Also, grilled bacon that has been left on the plate to get cold; burnt toast that crumbles away as soon as you touch it with a knife; butter straight from the deep freeze so that it's impossible to spread; and a pot of very weak coffee, lukewarm."

"That's a complicated order sir," said the bewildered waiter. "It might be quite difficult to prepare."

The guest replied, "Oh? But that's what I received yesterday!"

Time to cash in??

$5390.00The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth.

The F Word: Flu

When I started this blog my intent was to keep it fairly light and impersonal--just a hit-and-miss assemblage of a few of the things I find interesting or funny. A place to experiment with AdSense (I'm up to a total of about $2 now, haha). A website to validate myself, yet remain fairly anonymous, when I post comments on other people's blogs. A place to post amusing things I receive in emails so that I can clip them to Clipmarks. A place to post amusing things in a format that I can copy and paste to create a clever email to send to friends. A multi-purpose sort of blog, sans personal information.

From time to time, however, I think that a bit of personal information is warranted here. Now is such a time, because as I look at the paucity of posts over the last few months I am embarrassed by the impression of a lack of effort, interest, or both. Especially if people click the link to this blog to check out the person who made a comment on their blog or on a blog they are following. I toyed with the idea of giving up the blog, but decided instead to reveal a bit of myself in my explanation for not posting much lately.

Unfortunately the excuse is not that I've been too busy partying or traveling. No, the reason has to do with my husband's significant cardiovascular problems which combined with cold, gloomy winter weather have blanketed our household with a heavy mixture of anxiety and depression. For the last nine days my husband and I have been further undermined in body and spirit by a terrible flu that is going around. Since we seldom venture from home these days, I must have picked the virus up from someone at a meeting at the local library on the afternoon of February 28th. We both started feeling a little "under the weather" a day and a half later.

From that point on it was a rapid descent into flu hell--frequent prolonged sneezing, lots of mucous and congestion, excruciating muscle aches and pains, extreme fatigue, headache, sore throat.... No fever, though, that I know of. We reached a point when we thought we would die, and then moved on to the point of wishing we would die and be put out of our misery. One or the other of us was able to rally just enough to forage for food in the kitchen once in a while. I managed to make chicken soup Wednesday (March 5th) but was far too sick to attend an important meeting in town. I also had to miss the planning meeting the next day.

It wasn't until yesterday morning (Saturday)that we were able to creep into town to the grocery to replenish our supplies. We are still far from well, although, mercifully, the sneezing has ceased. My chest hurts down deep and it feels as if I'm being stabbed when I cough. I'm more short of breath than usual, probably due to the congestion, but as long as I just rest I can live with this and not panic. For some reason, though, my blood pressure has soared and I have to be very, very careful to not exert myself much. As if I felt like exerting myself. My poor husband, who feels at least as lousy as I do, has managed to keep body and soul together for our multitude of creatures, in both house and barn. He's a trooper.

Recently there have been other serious and heartbreaking events in my family back in the USA that I won't go into here. There's not been a lot of joy in my life lately, but I'm still hanging in, monkeying my way through life's trials and tribulations. I could use some good vibes if you have any to send my way.

A Strange Old Lady

A very weird thing has happened.

A strange old lady has moved into my house. I have no idea who she is, or where she came from, or how she got in. I certainly didn't invite her. All I know is that one day she wasn't there and the next day she was.

She is very clever. She manages to keep out of sight for the most part; but whenever I pass a mirror, I catch a glimpse of her there; and when I look into the mirror directly to check my appearance, suddenly she is hogging the whole thing, completely obliterating my face and body. It is very disconcerting. I've tried yelling at her to leave but she just yells back, grimacing horribly.

If she is going to hang around, the least she could do is offer to pay rent. But no. Every once in a while I do find a couple of dollar bills on the kitchen counter, or some loose change on my bureau or on the floor, but that certainly isn't enough.

In fact, though I don't like to jump to conclusions, I think she steals from me regularly. I go to the ATM and withdraw a hundred dollars and a few days later, it's gone. I certainly don't go through it that fast, so I can only conclude the old lady pilfers it. You'd think she would spend it on some wrinkle cream, she certainly needs it.

And, the money isn't the only thing she's taking. Food seems to disappear at an alarming rate. Especially the good stuff...ice cream, cookies, candy...I just can't keep them in the house. She really has a sweet tooth. She should watch it; she's really putting on the pounds. I think she realizes that, and to make herself feel better, I know she is tampering with my scales so I'll think I am gaining weight too.

For an old lady, she's really quite childish. She gets into my closet when I'm not home and alters all my clothes. They're getting tighter every day. Another thing: I wish she'd stop messing with my files and papers on my desk. I can't find anything anymore.

Furthermore, when I program my VCR to tape something important, she fiddles with it after I leave the room so it records the wrong channel or shuts off completely.

She finds innumerable imaginative ways to irritate me. She gets all my newspapers, magazines and mail before me, and blurs all the print and she's done something sinister with the volume controls on my TV, radio and phone. Now all I hear are mumbles and whispers. She's also made my stairs steeper, all my knobs and faucets hard to turn and my bed higher and a real challenge to get in and out of.

I thought she couldn't get any meaner than that, but yesterday she proved me wrong. She actually came with me when I went to get my passport photo taken, and she actually stepped in front of the camera, just as the shutter clicked. Disaster! I have never seen such a terrible picture. How can I go abroad now? No customs official is ever going to believe that scowling face on my passport is me.

She's walking on very thin ice. If she keeps this up, I swear, I'll put her in a home.