Weekly Photo Challenge: Peaceful

Hubby and I were doing one of those husband-and-wife comedy routines: “You never take me anywhere” versus “You never go anywhere with me.” (You can guess which one is which.)

With that in mind, hubby invited and I went. Yep, I went retriever training; that’s where he invited me. Peaceful, isn’t it? Maybe you can see hubby towards the upper left hand corner, where he is setting out the bumpers for the dogs.

Just me and the retriever training group, out in the middle of nowhere, near West Point, Texas. We were there for hours . . . and hours . . . and hours.

Love ya, honey! At least I hope that was hubby I was yelling at. At this distance, they kind of all look similar.

An open field with a few trees

Hello! Anybody out there?

The Dark Side

I was shopping at BookPeople (an independent bookstore in Austin) recently, looking for a romance novel.

It’s for a friend. Really.

A friend at work is scheduled for some surgery soon. I decided to put together a gift bag with a few items to help her stave off boredom while she is at home recovering. I bought a mixed bag of pecans (milk chocolate covered, white chocolate covered and honey glazed) from Berdoll Pecan Candy and Gift Farm, located on Highway 71 between Austin and Bastrop. They grow and make all their pecan products. I’m planning on adding some nice hand cream and a romance novel to the gift bag.

Sure, sure, I have read romance novels — two of them, many years ago and that was way more than enough. I vaguely remember them being strikingly similar: It’s the 19th century or before and a young woman of good breeding is somehow rendered penniless and homeless. Because of the laws and society, she cannot inherit property and she has no education or skill (but she has a good upbringing and good manners). She is wearing the one dress she owns and it is tattered. There are regular ellipses in the dialogue . . . and she gasps a lot. A man appears, he might be highborn or a rogue, and he saves her from society’s scorn just for being female and awakens in her the physical desires she’s never even dreamed of.

Just what my soon-to-be recovering friend needs, I thought, to take her mind off of her pain and her temporary immobility. I’ll get her one of those.

Things have changed, my friends, things have changed and that includes romance novels. They have gone over to . . . The Dark Side.

I must have spent an hour in front of the romance section. Where were the stories about 19th-century mansions, secrets and men with curly hair falling into their eyes? They have been replaced by 21st-century wizard romances, vampire romances, werewolf romances, and zombie romances, everyone driving about town in their convertibles and talking on their cell phones. I recognized a couple of authors’ names (purely by chance, I assure you), but I didn’t know anything about them or their books.

I finally just chose one. I ended up with Pale Demon by Kim Harrison (not an author whose name I recognize). The spine lists the book as an “urban fantasy.”

The back cover teaser says that “Condemned for black magic, Rachel Morgan has three days to get to the annual witches’ conference in San Francisco to clear her name. If not, she’ll be trapped in the demonic ever-after . . . forever.

[At least it still has ellipses.]

But a witch, an elf, a living vampire, and a pixy travelling 2,000 miles in one car is a recipe for disaster — not even counting the assassination teams waiting in ambush … or the demon they unleash in St. Louis.

Now, after centuries of torment, a fearsome creature walks free, craving innocent blood and souls — especially Rachel Morgan’s, who’ll need to fully embrace her own demonic nature to survive. And even that may not be enough.”

Gee, I hope my friend hasn’t already read it.

Ten Eventful Years, Volume 1

Ten Eventful Years is the name of a series of books covering 1937-1946. I found them while re-arranging two bookshelves of dog-related books. I thought all the books on those shelves were about dogs, but I was wrong. Here were two volumes of Ten Eventful Years: A to Cona, Conc to Ley. The table of contents lists four volumes: Volume 1: Abbreviations to Conant (836 pages); Volume 2 Concentration Camps to Ley (862 pages); Volume 3 Liberalism to Scrap (862 pages); and Volume 4, Sculpture to Zoology (800 pages).

We are missing Volumes 3 and 4. That doesn’t matter, though, because hubby and I don’t know where Volumes 1 and 2 came from. Neither of us claims to own them and the dogs are denying everything. I found no inscriptions, no notes in the margins and no grocery list or autographed Jackie Robinson baseball card as forgotten bookmarks.

Before I donate them, I will take a look to see what the editor of the Encyclopedia Britannica, Walter Yust, and his employees considered remarkable about those years.

I opened Volume 1 to page 50 and found an entry for Air Conditioning. Turns out that air conditioning came into use somewhere around 1912, mostly for industrial applications. Theatres started using “comfort air conditioning” around 1925. “Comfort air conditioning … was extensively applied in a variety of other applications during the decade 1937-46. Commercial establishments using air conditioning extensively included department stores, five-and-ten-cent stores, small stores, restaurants, amusement places having eating facilities, multiroom buildings, theatres, passenger cars, busses, passenger ships and aeroplanes. Residential applications also started during this period.”

All I can say is Thank You! to the 1937-1946 decade for implementing air conditioning to the general public.

Moving on. Page 412 has a black and white photograph of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge at Puget Sound (Washington state) being ripped apart by a windstorm on November 7, 1940, four months after it was built. At the time, it was the world’s third longest single suspension bridge. Well, there went $6,400,000.

One more entry, then, towards the end of Volume 1. Page 615 has a photo of a man in a yarn factory. The caption is “Experimental yarn made of chicken feathers, a project of the U.S. Rubber Co.” The umbrella category is Chemurgy, which I’m guessing is a cross between chemistry and metallurgy. “[Chemurgy] is a concept which teaches that by extending the understanding and utilization of agricultural materials the base of mankind’s wealth can be greatly broadened.” The Chicken Feathers section explains that there was a problem of preventing the chicken feathers, which were gathered up wet, from deteriorating from the wetness before they could be used. At the end of 1946, “commercial exploitation awaited further improvements in the process.”

Oh. Excuse me while I go check the labels of my knitting yarn skeins. I don’t think I was wearing my glasses when I bought them. And I thought I only had to read food labels.

Mobile Phone

I have a cell phone, as does hubby and about a few other billion people on this planet. Hubby also has a mobile phone.

It’s his pickup. Not in his pick-up — his pickup is the mobile phone, on wheels. He can say “Call home” and it does. A call comes in to his cell phone and it rings through his pickup. He answers and talks just by the press of a button.

I lust after his mobile phone.

What I want the mobile phone on wheels for is to call into radio talk shows on my drive into the office. Not to give an opinion on their topic of the hour, no. What I want to do is tape their call-in numbers to the dashboard so I can call and talk to their traffic reporters.

I am sometimes dismayed to hear a “good-to-go” report while I am sitting in stop-and-go traffic on the Interstate. By the time I inch forward enough to discover the bottleneck, the tow truck is there, the firefighters are cleaning up, the police are directing traffic. The drivers of the two vehicles involved in the accident are joking with each other and exchanging mailing addresses for Christmas cards; that’s how long they’ve been there.

I want to call the radio stations and help them with their traffic reports. I’ll do it for free, even, just as soon as I get my own mobile phone on wheels.

Why I Succeed

I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times, I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed. ~ Michael Jordan