The Kitchen of Mrs. Moreau

This just in from the AP: Do It Yourself DNA Amateurs Trying Genetic Engineering At Home.

There's a snapshot of a woman in jeans and a T-shirt, sitting in her spare room, puttering with equipment that includes a box of baggies, Tupperware, and a roll of toilet paper. Here's the caption:

"Meredith L. Patterson, a computer programmer by day, conducts an experiment in the dining room of her San Francisco apartment on Thursday, Dec. 18, 2008. Patterson is among a new breed of techno rebels who want to put genetic engineering tools in the hands of anyone with a smart idea. Using homemade lab equipment and the wealth of scientific knowledge available online, these hobbyists are trying to create new life forms through genetic engineering - a field long dominated by Ph.D.s toiling in university and corporate laboratories."

And you thought scrapbooking was cool.

Mr. Moreau: "Honey, I'm home."
Mrs. Moreau: "Hi--Wait! Don't step there."
Mr. Moreau, left foot frozen in midair, eyeing the floor in panic: "They got loose, didn't they. I knew it, I knew it... "
Mrs. Moreau: "Oh stop. It's just grape jelly."


Mrs. Moreau carefully lifts a test tube with barbecue tongs and heats it with a hair dryer. The contents begin to glow a faint blue.

Mr. Moreau, suspicious, stepping away from the jelly: "What are you working on?"
Mrs. Moreau: "It's a surprise."
Mr. Moreau groans, "That's the biofluorescent plaque-eating toothpaste bug, isn't it." Silence. "Isn't it!"
Mrs. Moreau, eyes fixed on her work: "Maybe."
Mr. Moreau: "Good God, woman, it ate the kids' teeth into points! They look like little sharks!"
Mrs. Moreau: "Relax. It's just baby teeth. They'll grow new ones. And on the plus side, the bullies at school are afraid of them now."

Mr. Moreau, slumping into a kitchen chair: "You have to quit this, Edna. You're going to kill us all."
Mrs. Moreau: "Nonsense. It's perfectly safe."
Mr. Moreau: "Who says that, Edna, who?"
Mrs. Moreau: "Scientists. Many scientists. And when I get this right, we'll be rich."
Mr. Moreau, brightening: "Oh. Well then. Carry on."

Sepia Scenes: Fallen Stars

I thought this dry leaf on my garage floor looked like the ruins of a little star, fallen and shattered. They are both taken with the Sepia setting on a Canon G9. In the top one, I softened the shot by lowering the saturation and lightening it a little. In the second, I went for a NASA lander-camera look, with its harsh shadows, enhanced saturation, and high contrast. Which do you like better?

Click over to Sepia Scenes for more participants, and for tips about sepia photography.

Merry Christmas!

"Dude. That was some primo catnip."


Hope your stockings were filled with your favorite things!

Ruby Tuesday: Flash Frozen

The ice storm that hit the midwest has been destructive, but it hasn't been without its charms. Here a scarlet berry is encased in ice, preserved like an insect in amber until the next thaw.

For more ruby delights, click over to The Work of the Poet. And if you like photographing all things red, why not join the fun?

Ruby Tuesday: Shiny Shoebutton Eyes

"I hear Santa!"

This time of year, the humans are rushing around like lunatics and laps are in short supply. No matter. Raggedy Ann and Andy are Gatsby's port in the holiday storm.

Do you like red? A little or a lot? If so, you'll want to stop by at Theteach's place for more ruby goodness.

Ruby Tuesday: A Riot of Red

Behold Chickadee's, a jam-packed little gift shop on US 31, all decked out for the holidays.

For the full effect, click the photo to see the details. It isn't red, but I especially like the angel weather vane. And the pointy birdhouses. And the sun thing... This is pretty much what my house would be like if nobody stopped me.

Check out Ruby Tuesday over at Work of the Poet, and join us, why don'tcha.

Best. Toy. Ever.

I've been avoiding the news lately, mostly because I dislike heart palpitations. They scare me and they make me cranky, much like the news itself.

The price I pay is missing stuff like this: Toy Hall of Fame Inducts the Stick.

Now that is funny, as in snorting-coffee-out-your-nose and laughing-until-you-pee. There's even a photo of the beaming curator holding the stick, proudly housed within another classic, The Cardboard Box. (I am so in the wrong job.)

Once I caught my breath, though, I began to remember my childhood, way back at the dawn of time, and the fun we used to have with the good ol' stick.

A neighbor had a row of trees that dropped loads of long, willowy, flexible switches. They became jockey whips, transforming our bikes into race horses. They were magic wands, and instruments of tickle torture; pointers for the teacher when we played school; probes for investigating the contents of mud puddles.

Best of all, they were forbidden. Parents assured us we'd put out an eye with them. They told us, in dire tones, the story of then-famous Andy Divine, a gravel-voiced actor who ruined his throat by running with a stick and falling on it. We could end up like Andy, croaking our way through life -- and blind to boot.

In reality, the stick was the least of our perils. We raced our bikes down the middle of the street, and nobody wore helmets. We rode them behind the DDT truck, in the cloud it made when it sprayed the alleyways to kill flies. We tunneled into sandbanks down by the river, with no thought of cave-ins. We fished in a chemical soup of a river. We trusted and obeyed adults, even strangers, just because they were adults. A broken thermometer was an occassion for fun with mercury. Cars didn't even have seat belts. Nobody gave any of that a thought. But sticks? Lethal. Certain death.

Now here we are in 2008, and the stick is vindicated. Exalted, even.

So now I know what to get for all the kids on my Christmas list. Yes, kids, Santa is bringing switches this year. And this is officially A Good Thing.

Sepia Scenes: Garden Gate

This is an older shot from Fernwood Gardens in Michigan, sepia-fied with the good old AOL photo editor. (If they take that away, I'm cooked.)

This is really a double gate, like a little house; there is an inner and an outer gate/wall, with benches inside between the two. Once the hubby's woodshop is up and running, I'm putting in an order for one like it.

There's a lot more to see at Sepia Scenes, so click over and explore.

*Click photo to enlarge.

Ruby Arches

There's a new, red bridge in town connecting the city's oldest park to its newest.

I like the contrast and the way the support structure echoes the arches in the church windows.

Be sure to stop by MaryT's place for the rest of the entries in Ruby Tuesday.

*Click photo to enlarge