Awareness of the outside world. UChicago, Graham School: FFAC10104The History of Science Fiction. Online class starts 7 Jan. Registration closes 29 Dec. FREE intro lecture, UCGS: The History of Science Fiction, A Conversation with Ada Palmer and Jo Walton, Tue., Dec 20, 2022 | 12:00 – 12:45 pm CST. NB this is tomorrow. Course is being co-taught by Professor Ada Palmer, who I have mentioned once or twice. (Blog search says five times.) I have registered for the class. Join me! We can study together. Obviously the free lectures are teasers for the classes, but they tend to be interesting also.
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Rodney, while being blanketing of an evening: What is this ‘layering’ I hear about? How does that work?
Yes, Rodney now wears layers.
Another variable for blanket math.
What is the temperature?
Sunny or cloudy? Raw, cold days bring out the blanket in me.
Day or night? Short of hot, humid summer nights, if it’s dark, Rodney can at least wear his sweatshirt.
Wet or dry? Our current waterproof blankets are all on the cold end of the spectrum. Warm and rainy, he’s out of luck.
What am I wearing? I joke, but Rodney’s response to weather is fairly close to mine. [I’m Cold, You Need A Blanket]
Reminder, we are talking about an unclipped, healthy, older horse, living in the American South. What can I say, he likes to be toasty.
Apparently, a quilt journal is a book in which one records the details of the quilt one is making. I heard the words completely differently. Since an illuminated journal is a journal that is illuminated, a quilt journal is a journal that is quilted, right? I though it was a cool idea. I would so do this if I were a quilter.
It was a great trip … sightseeing, so much sightseeing … saw all the historic buildings .. visited museums … ate street food … saw a movie being made … rode in a cable car up to a castle … listened to music in scenic squares … time spent at the beach and in parks … time spent time looking at the stars … went to a play … had nice meal … shopping, so much shopping … it’s good to be home.
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Process notes. Images from Emojipedia, Samsung versions.
Rabbit Hole. My search did not turn up any online examples, although I’m sure folks have done this. The closest I found was a crochet temperature blanket by @lapplecrochets on instagram.
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Update. Story quilts! That was the search term I needed to use. Thank you Jane. (See comment.)
When you disagree with the people around you on every possible social, cultural, and political issue, the thing that brings you together has to be exceptionally strong. It is for horses. It wasn’t for firefighting.
There were other reasons that I stopped volunteering as a firefighter.
I got busy with horses. Yay.
I was bad at it. Boo.
This is not me fishing for compliments. There are things I am good at – horses, handcrafts. There are things I am bad at – dancing, firefighting. I took the extensive volunteer training course. I took a special short course on pumpers. I still cannot get water in one end of a pump and out the other.
I remember standing in front of our old pumper while the Chief explained the operation of the front-mounted pump. I could feel – literally feel – the information draining back out of my head as he spoke.
Where are the lead shanks for the show? Over there in that one of three identical tack boxes. Piece of equipment X is behind which roll-up door on the engine? Huh …
I could not safely provide the level of competence that other people legit should have been able to expect of me given how long I had been there.
But I have wandered into the weeds.
So, safety was the biggest factor. Alienation wasn’t the biggest factor, but it was one of them.
At the one year anniversary of 9/11, we represented at a local church service. The speaker did not quite go as far as the Sodom & Gomorrah argument that we deserved it, but they flirted with it. Then, they went on to discuss a variety of social issues, on all of which I held the opposing point of view.
If I hadn’t been in uniform, I would have gotten up and walked out.
I liked firefighting. I sometimes think about going back. It’s been long enough that the expectations would be lower and therefore ones that I could meet competently and safely. Is my interest strong enough to overcome the social distance?
On the other hand, horses.
In the first place, points of opposition simply don’t come up. Horse people can go away for a horse show and talk about nothing but horses all weekend.
And then, I cut the situation more slack.
As an example, makeup.
In general, I am not a fan of makeup. In specific, it has no place in sport.
I have no inherent objections to the concept of facial modification. Wanna dye your hair purple and paint roses on your face? Rock on. What I object to in the cosmetics industry is the message that you are not beautiful, that you are not enough as you are. Dye your hair. Have surgery on your face. Make your eyes bigger, your skin smoother, your face flushed. You must change. Look younger. Look sexier.
No.
One could make the argument that horse show makeup is along the lines of theatrical makeup. Helping you to be seen by your audience, i.e. the judge. I’ve made this argument.
“Conversely, I am much happier with this look. It leaves behind thorny issues on the hyper-sexualization of women and enters the realm of theater. This I can live with. … Or maybe I just don’t do subtle.” [Shopping: Make-up]
But really, it would be a better justification if all performers wore makeup, as they do on stage. When only one subset of the group is doing so, you are back to the narrative that something is different for subset. They must look, do, behave differently to be allowed on the playing field.
Again, no.
Plus, how my horse goes should have nothing to do with how supposedly pretty my eyes are. Watch the horse, dude.
But I digress.
The point is, despite all the words I am willing to spill on the subject, I was also willing to sit down and have my face painted if that was what it took to ride.
Photo by Mom
“She said this proves that I will do almost anything to get on a horse.” [Things My Momma Told Me]
When you disagree with the people around you on every possible social, cultural, and political issue, the thing that brings you together has to be exceptionally strong.
Improving my photographic skills? Hauling out the big camera? If I may quote a current meme, That sounds like a 2023 problem. Instead, please enjoy phone snaps of Spotted at Lake Ontario from my recent trip to New York State. [Erie Canal & Environs]
Looking at videos of a horse for sale. On paper, horse seems nice. On paper, they all seem nice.
So many variables.
One thing I can say for certain. My psychological paralysis on the subject has not magically disappeared. “The more I do this, the more I wonder how anyone buys a horse ever.” [Status Of The Horse Hunt, Needle Pegged at Overwhelm]
So we loaded up the car and drove two dogs from their home in Massachusetts to their new home in Alabama. This is a record of our updates to the family as we drove. Hat tip to N for the title.
On our way.
[no photo] They are starting to realize they are not in Kansas anymore.
RI
CT
Goodbye NY. The ladies are asleep.
NJ
[NJ]
[no photo] Blink and you miss Delaware.
MD by streetlight
[no photo] DC, another blink
VA
NC
[no photo] They’ve been stars. Jazz has taken to stretching out along the seat. Rose runs out of room & uses J as a pillow.
[Blog note. Footwells filled in with duffel bags & other soft, squishy stuff. No danger of falling off the seat.]
South Carolina [G]
[no photo] Another stop in SC. Rest area had designated pet area. They both enjoyed the sniffbook posts.
GA. Checking out the view from the front seat.
[no photo] AL. Played Sweet Home Alabama for the dogs. Rose was dubious. Jezz slept thru it.
[no photo] May be late with Eagle has landed text/photo. Looks like we will arrive at same time as horse feeder so a bunch of shit will be happening all at once. Dont worry if I disappear from keyboard. 🐶 🐶
[no photo] 🦅 🍴 (We copy you down. Stick a fork in me Im done.) ❤️ to all.
~~~
The dogs did not put a paw wrong the entire trip. Slept quietly during the driving. Got out and walked about in a civilized fashion when we stopped. Did not offer a drop or speck of infelicitous bodily functions. After a bad bagel, I came closer to messing up the car than the dogs did.
Of geographical interest. We played hopscotch with the Maryland/DC line. From Maryland south into DC, as one would expect. Then through the east corner of DC and back into Maryland. In crossing the Potomac, we returned to DC for a few seconds, where the southern tip of the DC border crosses under the bridge on I-495. Virginia Places: Virginia-Maryland Boundary, scroll down about 2/3 of the way for the color photo of Jones Point, or look up Jones Point Park on a map.
Rodney will be trotting on the long lines with the most minimal contact, only enough to suggest that he continue in a circle, and he’s tucking his chin as if someone is asking him to do Third Level dressage. It’s not really dressage, since it’s all front-end flash without a shred of work from the hind end. It’s a false frame that comes from tension. He can’t simply loaf along in a relaxed manner. He has occasional moments when he sticks his nose out and acts like a horse, but nothing consistent.
He’s learned to be chill at a walk, most of the time. Trot and canter, not so much. If he could just (just!) get over himself, he would see that it’s not as hard as he thinks it is. Nothing is as hard as he thinks it is. If he could just (just!) get over himself, we could go out and conquer the world.
There exists, theoretically, a level of performance that Rodney could turn in that would make up for all the years, all the tears, everything. Performance does not necessarily mean winning extravagant national &/or year-end titles. Performance means the sort of rides that come with their own soundtrack. The sort of rides you remember years later. And, perhaps, one or two extravagant national &/or year-end titles.
It could, theoretically, happen.
Similarly.
There exists, theoretically, a horse who would cause me to throw my plans out the window, don a suit, and trot into a full schedule of saddleseat shows. Not necessarily an expensive, fancy horse, although he or she probably would be pricey. Not necessarily winning fistfuls of blues, although – as above – that would be nice. My ASB unicorn would be a horse that I hit it off with on a tremendous level: Sam’s attitude, Dottie’s showmanship, and enough pizzazz to take me to interesting places.
Virtual Brush Box 