From The Maybe You're As Deaf As Your Wife Says You Are Files
You start to wonder when you think Tim O'Brien (the musician, not the author) is about to sing a song about an Scot named Ivan Dewart, then realize he's saying "I've endured".
Detailed Fictions
So. The vast majority of the time my tendency to (super low level) anxiety expresses itself in a compulsion to nudge the door to make sure it's locked, or repeatedly check that the paddock gate is closed, or go back into the kitchen to see that the all the burners are off, or count cats to see they're all inside & accounted for before I go out.
Every now & again, though, I get an idea that I am fully aware is false while simultaneously being convinced of it. It's usually something pretty mundane, something along the lines of "I left the car windows rolled down in the parking lot all weekend" or "I left the door to the attic open". But then there are the bizarrely specific ones. Yesterday for a good hour or so I was sure that I had forgotten to make this month's car payment although I knew I had.
Far & away the strangest one was the time I knew that I had & had not not left a five-gallon bucket of frozen shrimp sitting out. Of course we actually owned no shrimp at all at the time. Unsurprisingly I've never bought that much shrimp at once in my life, never mind that the state shrimp fishery had been closed for a year or something at that point.
No, I have no point.
Every now & again, though, I get an idea that I am fully aware is false while simultaneously being convinced of it. It's usually something pretty mundane, something along the lines of "I left the car windows rolled down in the parking lot all weekend" or "I left the door to the attic open". But then there are the bizarrely specific ones. Yesterday for a good hour or so I was sure that I had forgotten to make this month's car payment although I knew I had.
Far & away the strangest one was the time I knew that I had & had not not left a five-gallon bucket of frozen shrimp sitting out. Of course we actually owned no shrimp at all at the time. Unsurprisingly I've never bought that much shrimp at once in my life, never mind that the state shrimp fishery had been closed for a year or something at that point.
No, I have no point.
An Ironic Holiday
I have absolutely no idea what happened on Saturday of Memorial Day long weekend. No memory at all of anything I did. I'm pretty sure I did something - there's never not dawn to dusk's worth of chores to do - but the whole day is a void.
I'm clearer on Sunday & Monday though, which boiled down to:
I'm clearer on Sunday & Monday though, which boiled down to:
- plant the forsythia
- take a trip to the Coastal Maine Botanical Garden
- repair fallen section of pasture fencing
- empty, wash & refill all the litter boxes
- frame three walls for the cat run
- help my wife with getting the horses ready for riding
- trail PJ around the yard while she mews piteously in distress at finding herself outside while refusing to let me pick her up & also refusing to go back in the open door for a full ten damn minutes
- watch the intensely odd Estonian movie "November"
Separated At Birth?
I missed the beginning of the discussion, but from what I could gather the new person in our TKD class was saying something along the lines of she couldn't break properly if someone was watching. Jason the 1st dan was saying something like "we don't count as observers". She jerked a thumb in my direction & said "I dunno, he looks like Giles, I think that means he's a Watcher."
I'm not quite sure what to make of that.
I'm not quite sure what to make of that.
A Narrow Margin of Failure
So after I don't know what, maybe a couple of weeks of having canned fish & rice crackers for lunch instead of hummus & corn chips, I'm seeing two results. First, I'm something like three & a half pounds lighter. Second, that's apparently just enough for me to suddenly be able to do one-legged squats on my left as well as my right. Up to now every time we've done those in my Monday gym class, I've only been able to stand back up on my right leg. When I tried with the left I ended up just sitting there & pulling faces as I tried to rise. Makes sense; dominant hand, dominant leg & boy howdy am I right handed.
The whole fish thing started after I had my yearly blood work done & my HDL was so low it made the PA's eyes pop. "Eat more nuts & walk farther," she said. My wife suggested eating certain fish too (she's a PhD in neurochemistry, she knows whereof she speaks), so here I am lunching on mackerel, sardines & salmon. Don't think I can face anchovies again though. That's too much salt in one package even for me.
The whole fish thing started after I had my yearly blood work done & my HDL was so low it made the PA's eyes pop. "Eat more nuts & walk farther," she said. My wife suggested eating certain fish too (she's a PhD in neurochemistry, she knows whereof she speaks), so here I am lunching on mackerel, sardines & salmon. Don't think I can face anchovies again though. That's too much salt in one package even for me.
Best Laid Plans
Nobody in my TKD school is more careful than Lani, but he still managed to drill me right in my post-op eye last night. Lucky for me I was wearing a pair of prescription sports goggles tough enough to stop a racquetball so that diffused the force a lot. Nevertheless it was still a hit to the head & I was supposed to be avoiding those altogether. So far so good, there's no sign that it shook my retina loose again.
We had all agreed ahead of time that the other students would only use shots to the body on me, but you know how it is when the limbs start flying. It may be time to give up sparring at all. Or take up BJJ instead. Maybe both.
We had all agreed ahead of time that the other students would only use shots to the body on me, but you know how it is when the limbs start flying. It may be time to give up sparring at all. Or take up BJJ instead. Maybe both.
Check Yourself Before You ... Ehh, Never Mind
*glance at the date/time in the task bar* *go over the the couch where my wife is buried under the cats*
Me: Hey. Happy anniversary.
Her: ... Damn. That's today, isn't it?
Me: Yeah.
Her: ... How long is it now?
Me: Twenty ... one years? Twenty one.
Her: Huh. Boy, good thing neither of us gets hung up on remembering.
Me: Totally.
Me: Hey. Happy anniversary.
Her: ... Damn. That's today, isn't it?
Me: Yeah.
Her: ... How long is it now?
Me: Twenty ... one years? Twenty one.
Her: Huh. Boy, good thing neither of us gets hung up on remembering.
Me: Totally.
Too Something For The Room
I went to describe the steakhouse where we went for dinner with her cousin as "about as Japanese as Peter Lorre playing Mr. Moto", but my wife gave me Tommy Lee Jones face (https://i.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/015/652/230114_908223010.png) & said no one would know what the hell I was talking about. I couldn't argue with that.
You Can't Go Home Again
Had a stop in DC on the way back from Florida. We lived there for about three & a half years, at the tail end of the Slick Willie era & most of Shrub's first tenure. I liked living there - due to a lot of the reasons it drove my wife nuts, to be honest - & always enjoyed going back. However long I had been gone I still felt at home, even in that rat's nest that Arlington calls its surface streets.
But now the sight of it just made me vaguely queasy. Now that Babyfinger, his hangers on & his apologists have insinuated themselves into the place so completely, there's a reeking stain on it. I don't know whether it'll be possible to get it out, even if he's eventually removed.
But now the sight of it just made me vaguely queasy. Now that Babyfinger, his hangers on & his apologists have insinuated themselves into the place so completely, there's a reeking stain on it. I don't know whether it'll be possible to get it out, even if he's eventually removed.
Found at the bottom of the coal bucket
I started this last year for night four of Bliss Morgan's Nightmare Fuel month, but never completed it. I figured what with G+ meeting its doom, actually finishing something for once would be a good way to see it off. So here's my last chunk of fuel.
( A story called Host )Guess I Should Have Checked Beforehand
I finally got it together to check with my surgeon about whether it was safe for me to go back to taekwondo. Of course I started up about two weeks ago, but I figured better late than never. Besides, I had been careful with just what I did in class, right?
Me: "So when can I get back into sparring?"
Which I should have asked before last Thursday, but there it is.
Them: "It should be all right as long as you don't get hit in the head."
Um.
Me: "So, um ... at all?"
Them: "Well, you know. Keep in mind that now that you've had one detachment, you may be vulnerable if you get hit again."
Um. Like when I got clipped on the ear. Last Thursday. Well.
Them: "It's funny, [the doctor] usually jokes with patients that they shouldn't take up kickboxing. But you're twenty-five or thirty years younger than they are, so you still might."
Heh. Yeah. Still might. Or might have been practicing striking styles since 1988. Either or.
Heh.
Me: "Ssssso, um ... what if I were practicing a grappling style? What would he say about getting thrown?"
Them: "Probably the same, you know. Don't get hit in the head."
Um. Bit of an occupational hazard in a striking style, that. I guess I'll have to discuss it in more detail at my next follow up. If I can't even stand up to the strain of taking a break fall I'm not sure what I'm going to do.
On the other hand I'm for damn sure not spending another week looking at my feet while my eye heals up again.
Me: "So when can I get back into sparring?"
Which I should have asked before last Thursday, but there it is.
Them: "It should be all right as long as you don't get hit in the head."
Um.
Me: "So, um ... at all?"
Them: "Well, you know. Keep in mind that now that you've had one detachment, you may be vulnerable if you get hit again."
Um. Like when I got clipped on the ear. Last Thursday. Well.
Them: "It's funny, [the doctor] usually jokes with patients that they shouldn't take up kickboxing. But you're twenty-five or thirty years younger than they are, so you still might."
Heh. Yeah. Still might. Or might have been practicing striking styles since 1988. Either or.
Heh.
Me: "Ssssso, um ... what if I were practicing a grappling style? What would he say about getting thrown?"
Them: "Probably the same, you know. Don't get hit in the head."
Um. Bit of an occupational hazard in a striking style, that. I guess I'll have to discuss it in more detail at my next follow up. If I can't even stand up to the strain of taking a break fall I'm not sure what I'm going to do.
On the other hand I'm for damn sure not spending another week looking at my feet while my eye heals up again.
Gotta Restart Somewhere
So. News that the D&D Starter Set was selling for $10 at Target & Wal Mart was all over my various social media the other day. (Plus one other place, but fuck 'em.) What the hell, says I, that's worth it. But when I show up in person at the store it's actually $15. Guess the $10 was for buying it online (even if I had done that & then gone to pick it up in person at the store where I ended up getting it - buh?).
Not like I don't already have the big three for every version from 1e to 5, or two shelves groaning with other RPG books, or two more on the island. But what the hell - everybody deserves a little frisson of game glee once in a while. You have to admit, it comes with a set of mighty good looking dice.
Not like I don't already have the big three for every version from 1e to 5, or two shelves groaning with other RPG books, or two more on the island. But what the hell - everybody deserves a little frisson of game glee once in a while. You have to admit, it comes with a set of mighty good looking dice.
Just Like Old Times
Last night was my first time back at sparring since the eye surgery. The gas bubble if left behind had shrunk to nearly nothing. Doctor said I could take off that cruddy irritating plastic medic alert bracelet. So why not? thinks I.
Fourth or so bout in - we spend the last half hour of every Thursday rotating through every in class sparring everyone else - sure enough the other black belt's hook clips me on the side of the helmet. Spins it around, helmet knocks my safety glasses off & skittering across the floor.
Luckily nobody stepped on them. Doesn't seem like the contact did me any harm either. There was the inevitable ten minutes of paranoia that it would have caused a detachment all over again, but we do our best never to deal out anything harder than a dope slap. After all, we've all got things to do the next day.
Fourth or so bout in - we spend the last half hour of every Thursday rotating through every in class sparring everyone else - sure enough the other black belt's hook clips me on the side of the helmet. Spins it around, helmet knocks my safety glasses off & skittering across the floor.
Luckily nobody stepped on them. Doesn't seem like the contact did me any harm either. There was the inevitable ten minutes of paranoia that it would have caused a detachment all over again, but we do our best never to deal out anything harder than a dope slap. After all, we've all got things to do the next day.
Well That De-escalated Eventually
When I were a lad it was my ambition to live in the biggest city I could reach. Last night, as I mucked out the horse stalls & contemplated how to re-attach the mailbox after the town plow guy had knocked it off for the second storm in the row, I reflected that my idea of an indulgence these days is to splurge on a Porter Cable cordless drill. (20v battery! Built-in work light!)
I can't say I'm not happy with it, but this was not the original plan.
I can't say I'm not happy with it, but this was not the original plan.
Riding Two Horses At Once
Full disclosure, I don't actually ever ride any horses at all. That's my wife's bag. Although I did used to do horse logging with the late great Ljoma, but that's another story.
Anyway. I went out & got me a WordPress blog (https://markkrawec.home.blog/) so I could test Medium's G+ exporter (https://medium.com/google-plus-exporter) in an effort to preserve the brain detritus I've scattered there over the years. I stuck with the freeware version because honestly, I"m too much of a skinflint even to stump up for the cheapest license.
Well darned if the whole thing didn't work super smoothly. I've got all my collections backed up & imported, along with 800 un-collected posts. Sure, that only goes back a couple or three years, but to be honest most of what I posted there isn't worth memorializing.
Plus, as a bonus I can share Wordpress posts straight to G+, which saves duplication of effort for at least one venue. I'm still doing everything three times at this point, trying to settle into Pluspora & MeWe (which I would have told to go to Hell if it weren't apparently the only place to follow Gennifer Bone now).
Anyway. I went out & got me a WordPress blog (https://markkrawec.home.blog/) so I could test Medium's G+ exporter (https://medium.com/google-plus-exporter) in an effort to preserve the brain detritus I've scattered there over the years. I stuck with the freeware version because honestly, I"m too much of a skinflint even to stump up for the cheapest license.
Well darned if the whole thing didn't work super smoothly. I've got all my collections backed up & imported, along with 800 un-collected posts. Sure, that only goes back a couple or three years, but to be honest most of what I posted there isn't worth memorializing.
Plus, as a bonus I can share Wordpress posts straight to G+, which saves duplication of effort for at least one venue. I'm still doing everything three times at this point, trying to settle into Pluspora & MeWe (which I would have told to go to Hell if it weren't apparently the only place to follow Gennifer Bone now).
Use At Your Own Risk
Just unboxed the new microwave. The box featured a warning of potential "reproductive harm". Because it was manufactured in Canada there was also a somewhat more ominous French avertissement of "lésions à l'appareil reproducteur". But here we are buying it in the States, where I reckon it ought to have Spanish on it. Considering how much blunter each successive language appears to be, I'm a little surprised it didn't just say "podria cocinar tus huevos".
Literally & figuratively!
Literally & figuratively!
From the Small World Files
While reading the latest This Old Dragon entry on Tim Brannan's blog I suddenly realized that my Gen Con roomie's buddy Harold is the guy who wrote Hidden Shrine of Tamoachan. My university AD&D group had the best time playing through that one, especially because the bard's player was an archaeology major & whenever he floated a theory based on his knowledge of Mesoamerica I could just say "Hey, damned if you aren't right!"
Arigatou Gozaimashita
The old Subaru sold last night after a surprisingly brief stint on Facebook marketplace. It had got to the point where putting in the money to fix what needed fixing would push the total spent on repairs over the purchase price we paid for it. The guy who bought it is obviously a skilled mechanic who buys cars a lot - he came with a pocket full of Benjamins to pay up on the spot.
We were sad to see it go, in the end. It had been a good car while it was & we'll miss it.
We were sad to see it go, in the end. It had been a good car while it was & we'll miss it.
Ctrl-Alt-History
Well. I had a rumination on how to handle some queasy aspects of a low-tech post-apoc Mad Hugo Gernsbeck RPG setting based on H.G. Wells' movie "Things to Come". But as I was typing it out I hit upon a sort of solution just by trying to properly phrase an explanation of the problem.
So there's that, I guess. On the down side, I'm back to having nothing to say.
Did make some really tasty rum balls for New Year's Eve though.
So there's that, I guess. On the down side, I'm back to having nothing to say.
Did make some really tasty rum balls for New Year's Eve though.
The Gift of Getting Rid Of
Or to be more precise, getting out the door. The translation I've been working on for the better part of a year is finally done & delivered to the publisher. Four hundred & seventeen pages in the end, though I have to admit I got away with recycling a lot of stuff from an earlier project. They're both tabletop RPGs that use the same system, so I could cut & paste a bunch of stuff from one to the other & only have to change the language in the example sidebars. On the one hand it's kind of a weight off, but on the other I'll miss working on it.
But then again there's the fact that the publishers seem to be cursed, so who knows when or if this'll ever see the light of day? I do nurse a faint hope that it could be available PoD by Gen Con, but then again I keep sending in Publishers Clearing House contest entries too.
Had a sporadically nice video chat with my mother, brother, sister-in-law & nephew last night. Sporadically because the connection was rubbish & the feed kept freezing up. I don't think they knew though, because they would go silent & freeze, then pop back at some later point in the conversation as if they didn't realize we hadn't heard any of what they were saying.
Luckily for them the shutdown only meant that there was nobody there to collect $45 from them when they went to see the Grand Canyon. No bathroom facilities, but isn't that what the gas stations en route are for?
But then again there's the fact that the publishers seem to be cursed, so who knows when or if this'll ever see the light of day? I do nurse a faint hope that it could be available PoD by Gen Con, but then again I keep sending in Publishers Clearing House contest entries too.
Had a sporadically nice video chat with my mother, brother, sister-in-law & nephew last night. Sporadically because the connection was rubbish & the feed kept freezing up. I don't think they knew though, because they would go silent & freeze, then pop back at some later point in the conversation as if they didn't realize we hadn't heard any of what they were saying.
Luckily for them the shutdown only meant that there was nobody there to collect $45 from them when they went to see the Grand Canyon. No bathroom facilities, but isn't that what the gas stations en route are for?