So, Irene approaches, and I am sick with a horrible cold-flu-thing. We went to the market last night, and stocked up on water and eggs and bread and tuna (lord, we bought a lot of tuna). It was expensive and not very well thought out, but we will survive. Please stay safe this weekend, and pray for all those affected by the storm.
+ If you are fascinated by Hurricanes, I encourage you to check out this interactive feature in the Wall Street Journal which shows the tracks of all the hurricanes in the last 6 years (since Katrina, in 2005). I wish it had 2004 in it too, as that was the year 4 hurricanes hit Florida (and I was in Florida at the time). Because we have such amazing technology, and we can predict so many things about a Hurricane, the path always seems somehow inevitable to me. But looking at all these storms, you see the incredible variety of the storms' paths. Also, Mambo, if you're reading this: it was Hurricane Bertha that grazed past VA when we first moved here.
+ If we don't loose power I am making these zucchini fritters.
+ Nicole Franzen of La Buena Vida recently visited two western farmer's markets, and took the most amazing photographs that make me ache and yearn for home. San Rafael, California | Taos, New Mexico
+ I feel sorry for all of you who don't get to listen to Duane Kuiper and Mike Krukow, the SF Giants announcers, and some o the nicest men in Baseball. Indeed, they are the reasons my mom love baseball (though she'd never admit it). Kuiper really was one of the nicest guys in the game when he played too. So that makes this story all the more funny:
So then I asked if he had ever asked a pitcher to retaliate for him. He said he never did, but, well, there was the Jim Bibby story. Details are hard to lock down but the story is too good to hold back: The Indians were playing the Twins, and at some point Rod Carew slashed Kuiper in a double play scenario at some point during the series. Duane was furious. He told Carew, "I'm going to come down the line and slash your achilles." Jim Bibby calmed him down. "Don't worry," Bibby said. "I'll get him for you."Read the juicy details here. (HT: Dad)
+ And form my mom, LOLcats cross stitch. Does it get nerdier than this?
+ VKBMKL has reminded me of one of my very very favorite picture books (how could I have forgotten): Socks for Supper by Jack Kent. I still distinctly remember coming across the book for the first time in our shelves, and imagining what it would feel like to eat socks for supper--and by imagining, I mean I felt like I actually was eating wool socks for supper. It was one of those powerful times when imagination takes over and feels so so real.
+ Finally, Simcha Fisher tells us all we need to know about Thomas Kinkade and then goes on to explain the emanation of light in Christian Sacred Art.
This painting [embedded Kinkade picture that I won't reproduce] makes sense only as a depiction of an oncoming storm, with heavy smog in some spots and total visibility just inches away (blown by what wind, when the chimney smoke rises undisturbed?), several cordless Klieg lights, possibly a partial eclipse, and that most cheerful of pastoral daydreams: a robust house fire. This is a lovely fantasy in the same way as it makes lovely music when all of your favorite instruments play as loudly as they can at the same time. Listen, and go mad.Have I mentioned that I love this woman.
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