Sunday snippets

Well, a whole week has come and gone, and not one entry got posted. Herewith, the things I could have written about, had I not been distracted by something shiny:

Masonry. I'm still searching for the meaning of the pin mentioned in the last entry, Talisman. I can't find another like it anywhere on websites selling Masonic jewelry. There are 33 seed pearls, probably for the 33 degrees in Masonry. The inverted horns may refer to Seshat, Egyptian goddess of wisdom, writing, architecture and mathematics. She was the divine measurer and scribe, assisting the Pharaoh in temple building, so it may be some kind of pin for the scribe's office. Or, it could be a Shriner symbol. There actually is a pin made to be worn by female relatives of Masons when they travel, but that is the blue slipper pin. So the mystery continues.

Paris Hilton. She is going to Rwanda to call attention to the suffering there? Give me a freaking break. Hey Paris, here's a clue: The rest of us already heard about it. How about taking the money you'd spend on your entourage for this trip and just giving it to aid workers on the ground, who can actually use it to help people? Better yet, send them what you spend on handbags in a month. That should pretty much fix the whole place.

'The Office' season premier. I used to love the show. But putting a live cat in a freezer to die in pain and terror is not funny in any way, shape or form. I don't know why cruelty to cats is so often considered humorous. Would the writers have put a dog in the freezer? A child, perhaps? I don't think so. And I won't be tuning in again any time soon.

Ewwwwwww. There is a murderous amoeba living in lakes and streams that gets up your nose and attacks your brain, "where it feeds until you die." Six deaths so far this year.

Glasses. I need new ones. Because it turns out that the plants I've been secretly watering at work are fake.

And that's all, folks.

Talisman

The Round Robin Challenge theme this time is "talisman" -- a suggestion of my own that seemed like a good idea at the time, but that proved to be more difficult than anticipated.

Not that my life isn't full of emotionally laden, strange, and "lucky" objects, but most of them show no outward sign of their power, nothing that could be captured in a photograph. Except maybe this.

My grandfather was a Mason, a member of the Scottish Rite. It was never discussed in the family, and I never heard him mention a thing about it, but he always wore a plain gold ring inscribed only with a triangle enclosing a single, mysterious symbol. He would never explain to me what it was. That ring was a source of burning curiosity throughout my childhood, and it probably contributed mightily to my lifelong love for mysteries, secrets, and hidden meanings.

Given all that, imagine my delight when presented with this exotic and beautiful little pin.

I was about to travel alone for the first time, setting off on an adventure far from home and family. My grandmother took me aside and pinned it to the lapel of my coat. She said that it would protect me, because any Mason who saw it would keep watch over me and see that I came to no harm. I don't know if that was true, but it was heady stuff to think that I walked among an invisible, secret brotherhood who would have my back if I needed them.

I don't wear the pin anymore because I think it's really meant only for Masons themselves, and I wouldn't want to offend. But holding it still brings back that sense of magical protection that saw me through my first flight from the nest.


*The other Robins have talismans too. Click here to see them all.

Good news

The New York Times announced yesterday that it is ending Times Select. That means all their online news and op-ed columns are now free. Plus, their archives are free back to 1987.

I was galled when they instituted paid content in the first place, but I've already forgiven them. I've spent a good bit of time now rummaging happily through the back issues. Journalistic excellence is getting hard to come by, and it doesn't get any better than the Gray Lady. It's good to have her back.

Shiver me timbers

Avast, ye land lubbers! It's September 19, International Talk Like a Pirate Day!

Why a day fer struttin' yer pirattitude, ye might well be askin'? Well, me hearties, whyever not? Was there somethin' better than swearin', swaggerin', and swiggin' rum on yer agenda fer today? Aye, lads, I thought not.

Celebrate yer inner Cap'n Jack by seein' how long ya can keep it up before yer shipmates hangs ye from the yard arm or yer barnacle of a boss fires yer scurvy self. Extra dubloons to any son o' the sea or lass of the lee who be wearin' an eyepatch ter the office this day. Arr.

Fight for Kisses

Check out Wilkinson Sword's new ad campaign for razors that shave Dad's skin "as soft as a baby's."

The video is a hoot, and you can even download a game from the website if you're so inclined. Just thought I'd pass it along.

Click image to see the tats.

Froggy goodness

This post actually has nothing to do with actual frogs, so if you were expecting some sort of reptilian amusement ... sorry. This has to do with a particularly addictive time waster that I call "Kissing Frogs".

Essentially, it's Web surfing with a mind wide open; clicking quickly on scrolling links, before they hop away, just to see what they really are. You know, like in fairy tales, where a quick smooch reveals a handsome prince. Or not. (Sometimes, you just get slimy lips. It comes with the territory.)

Blogger's Dashboard is my usual pond of choice, where the names of recently updated blogs roll by at the rate of about one every one or two seconds. That's all the time you have to decide: smooch or no smooch?

Quirky titles get me every time: Where Narwhals Dance (How could you not click on that?), House of Mirth and Shameless Words. I've wandered into Horizontal Thought ... Until the Stars Turn Cold ... Steamboats Are Ruining Everything ... Possums! Prepare for Battle!, the last two from I-don't-remember-where.

And now there's a whole new set of possiblities: Blogger Play, a slideshow of the latest photos uploaded to Blogger. You can click through to the blog where the photo appears. You can go back and forward, and decide how fast the display changes, so it doesn't have the same sense of capture that the scrolling updates do. Still, you can bet I'll be in there, puckered up and ready for action.

I feel a little guilty sometimes visiting strangers' blogs, as many are so very personal. But only a little; if you make a blog public, you have to that know anyone in the world could come barging in. So. Ready or not, here I come.

Happy 13th

It's September 13, Fortune Cookie Day!

I love the whole thing with fortune cookies, don't you? First there's Chinese food, and you can't be unhappy with a plate full of Kung Pao and a fist full of chop sticks.

Then, just when life can't get any better, along come the fortune cookies. Your hand lingers over the plate. Which is The One for you? Down the fingers go, like fat little dowsing rods, and up they come with a mystery wrapped in a desert -- two great things in one.

Of course, I've never found exactly what I hope for inside: "You will win the lottery next week" ... "The answer to your question is Yes" ... "It's not too late to grow taller." But it could happen. I could be one cookie away from my wildest dreams coming true.

Ironically enough, September 13 is also Defy Superstition Day. I suppose we could have done that instead, and probably nothing bad would have happened. But hey, why take the chance.

Monday Photo Shoot: Get Mugged

Here's my mug. My kids gave it to me because, well, YEAH.

You can play too at John Scalzi's AOL blog, By the Way.

Something different

The Round Robins this time are focusing on subjects that are unusual for us, things we wouldn't usually photograph. The idea is from Nancy at Nancy Luvs Pix.

I chose the rafters of our farmers' market, with its 18-foot fan.

It was a toss-up between that and purple produce, so I'm including that too.


Want to see what the other Robins found? Check 'em out below:





Karen - Outpost Mâvarin
Carly - Ellipsis
Janet - Fond Of Photography
Annie - Pictures of Craziness
Nancy - Nancy Luvs Pix
Suzanne R - New Suzanne R's Life
Jessica - QuickSilver Dreams
Boliyou - Percolation
Gina - Gina's Space
Gattina - Keyhole Pictures
Tara - A Long Walk Home ***Welcome New Member***
Steven - (sometimes photoblog)
Teena - It's all about me!

True confessions, part 2

Not long ago, it became clear that diabetes is getting the better of me. So I called my pharmacy to get a refill on testing strips: "Um. The last time you refilled this was 2004. We need a new prescription if you want insurance to pay for these."

Hell yes I wanted insurance to pay. So I called the doctor's office and got the nurse. Several minutes on hold later, she's back: "Doctor wants to know if you've been seeing someone else about your diabetes?"

Uh oh. "No... why?"

"Our records show we haven't seen you in the office since 2002. He's not going to call in anything else until you come in to touch base."

Busted. "Oh my, has it really been that long?" I know damn well it has. "OK. I have a day off in two weeks. Let's make it then."

In the meantime, I improved my diet considerably and dropped a few pounds, but the readings were still too high. Metformin wasn't doing the trick anymore, and I began to worry that there would be insulin injections in my immediate future.

Doctor day came. (As always, I sat in the waiting room for over two hours. It's a major reason I avoid the place, and a rant for another time.) He wanted some blood tests, of course. And then there was good news and bad news: The good news was, he didn't even mention insulin. The bad news was, he prescribed a drug that contains both metformin and Avandia, Avandamet.

Say what? Hold the phone, dude. I put on my politely concerned face: "Hmm. I think I heard something about that drug on the news, doctor... ?" Specifically, that the stuff kills people. An animated presentation ensued, wherein the doctor assured me, with great conviction, that the studies were flawed and the people running it are untrustworthy, and that the drug is absolutely safe. I got free samples and orders to return next month.

Back home, I ran a Web search on Avandia. The first related links to pop up were listings of lawyers offering to help me sue the pants off its maker, GlaxoSmithKline. Not a propitious start. Still, I found that many patients have no problems with the drug and that the FDA has left it on the market, albeit with a boxed warning. And after all, what's the point in going to doctors if you aren't going to trust their judgement?

So. It is now two weeks into my adventure with Avandia. The blood sugar levels are exactly where they were before, no improvement at all. I've had a lot of the symptoms listed as possible side effects, but the thing with me is I have those symptoms all the time anyway, as a result of other health and aging issues. There's no way to tell which thing is causing what, so I just suck 'em all up and keep swimming. At least, I did until today.

Last night I woke up with a nosebleed. I have never had a nosebleed in my life. Since the Avandia is the only new thing, I thought of that first. Another Web search did not turn up nosebleeds as a side effect, but I did find posts on message boards from other people claiming they too started having nosebleeds at night after starting Avandia.

On the other hand, I have been stuffy lately, and I take aspirin every night, so it was too soon to judge. I dutifully downed my morning dose and made a note to myself to call the doctor Monday.

And then, about two hours later, another nosebleed. This time, it started while I was in the car. Thank heaven I wasn't driving.

OK, it's only twice, and it could still be a coincidence, but I've had enough. I'm more afraid of this drug than I am of the disease. Plus, they have the exact same worst-case scenarios: stroke, heart attack and death.

There's got to be a better way.

Buonanotte, Luciano

A brilliant light has gone out of the world with the death of Luciano Pavaroti. It seems fitting to light a candle in his memory, and to say a heartfelt thank you for the gift of his amazing voice. His life lifted all of us closer to heaven.

September holidays

It's autumn, at last! This is my favorite season and my favorite month. The tyranny of heat is losing its grip, the air is turning crisp, and apples are ready for the picking. As if that were not enough, the month is loaded with great reasons to celebrate.

September is Fall Hat Month and National Courtesy Month, so don a hat if you dare, or at least be nice to anyone who does. It's International Square Dancing Month and Chicken Month and Honey Month, which sounds like a potluck party to me. And let's not forget it's Better Breakfast Month and Self Improvement Month ... oatmeal, anyone?

Labor Day has come and gone. Hope it was a happy one for you. I spent it doing actual labor, but the holiday pay took out some of the sting. Today, September 5, is Be Late for Something Day, so I'm actually right on time in getting this post up. Read a Book Day is September 6; the 16th is Collect Rocks Day, the 22nd is Elephant Appreciation Day, and the 28th is Ask a Stupid Question Day. (Can't wait for that one.)The Chinese Moon Festival is sometime this month (15th day of the 8th lunar month), but I'll have to figure that one out later.

Yessiree Bob, it's a full plate this time around. Man, I love September.

September song

The pool across the street closed yesterday, and the morning is strangely still. Gone is the early morning murmur and rhythmic swish of the lap swimmers. Today there will be no splashing, no radios, no little-kid laughter. No Marco. No Polo. The deck furniture is stored away. A small, forgotten beach ball drifts aimlessly around the empty concrete, occasionally pressing its nose against the chain link fence.

The cricket chorus has taken center stage, their relentless trill underscored by the patter of hickory nut shells hitting the driveway, courtesy of the squirrel section. Chipmunks chirp along, keeping time, and a chilly wind riffs in the oak leaves.

Even now, the trees are beginning to turn. Just at the edges, near the tops, the first tentative colors bloom: reds for now, with gold to follow. Now is the hush before the glory, and the sigh before the dying. Bittersweet, my loves, bittersweet.

Sunken treasure

Here's a wonder for you: These are skeletons of Cyrtoidea, a kind of radiolarian. They're among the tiny creatures that make up plankton, at the foundation of all life in the sea.

The illustration is by Victorian naturalist Ernst Haeckel, and is one of many gorgeous plates now in the public domain. (I snagged this one from Wikipedia.)

I don't know which is more awe-inspiring, the drawings themselves or the fact that these structures belong to real, living beings that share the planet with us.

Sometimes, you just have to sit quietly and soak up the magic.

*Click the graphic to take a closer look