RINO

This is my view as I sit in my rocker and watch the sun go down. If not the best seat in the city, it's my favorite.

I went to the PALAC luncheon on Sunday. This room is filled with sept - oct - and probably nonagenarians. But they are by and large bright as the sun in my window just before it starts to set. I had a great time meeting new members and visiting with many I've already met. One delightful member who has been a member for 50 years mentioned, for some reason that the Superintendent of schools for La Canada way back when was... Couldn't remember this guys name. I sayed, "Max Rafferty?" Yes! However did I know? I don't know. Lucky guess, I think. But The Blue Max is the reason I'm registered as a Republican.

In 1968, yes, the middle-ages, I was too young to vote in the primary election since I wouldn't turn 21 until August. Too late for the June primary. Max Rafferty was a Neolithic Teaparty member. He defeated the liberal (or moderate) Republican Senator, Charles Kuchel. I liked Kuchel. I may have voted for him. Instead, we got Max Rafferty who was by then the Superintendent of Public Schools for all of California. He was doing horrible things to our schools. So that year, I registered as a Republican so that horrible people like the Blue Max would never win again. And I held my nose and voted for Alan Cranston. Cranston was never a very good Senator and I have been totally ineffective in voting in good candidates for California Republican office. We both try.

I'm still shocked that I remembered that at lunch. Guess the event was burned into my brain. Being around all these bright old-timers has helped my brain cells already. Just in a nick of time.

French Knots

Most exciting blog ever. Isn't this a little like watching paint dry? Maybe I should write about the body count in my brain because I'm listening to a Jack Reacher marathon. I'm mostly listening to the beginning and the end of each book, but I am re-listening to every book in order.

I haven't made French Knots in years. You can see them in the lady's flower basket. I think they are there to look like baby's breath. And they do. I'm now adding green tendrils to the leaves and flowers on the shawl. The worst will be the cording for the shawl fringe. Karen has been listening to me whine about that for weeks. I'm doing everything but. French knots have sort of built my confidence so who knows, maybe by February.

Tribune Co raised my insurance rates this year, or they would have if I'd stuck with UHC. Instead, I opted for PacifiCare. And was griping all the way. Man, I've turned into a whiny, bitchy shrew. Met my new doctor yesterday. Very competent doctor, efficient and customer-focused staff, easy access and parking, associated with a hospital in Pasadena, not Hollywood. I think I'm in love. Yes, we're talking knees, but this relationship is new. We have to check all my other body parts before we move south to the knees. I think Tribune may have done me a favor without meaning to. Thanks, guys.

Our Lady of the Garden

Doesn't she look done? I've started to do the finishing work, even though I haven't finished all the cross stitches. She has a Roman nose, no matter what kind of plastic stitching I can do to straighten it out. I need Per's doctor's help. She looks okay anyway. And the garden has discernible flowers. All-in-all, I'm pleased

Had lunch with my old bosses, Bill and Judy and Bill's wife, Jaine. Great people. And I found a very good new restaurant in Pasadena. It's Malbec on Green St. and has the worst parking in the world. But fabulous beef.

Oh, Huck

Maybe I wrote about this, or maybe I just Gchatted to my sister about this. Audible must have been offering a reduced price on books because my iPod is now filled with classics. One of these was Huck Finn. You may have read or heard the controversy about an educator who has published an altered edition of this book. He took out all the Southern bastardizations of Negro and substituted slave. He did this because civilized people don't use that word. It's ugly when White people say it. It's ugly when Black people say it. And it's ugly when we read it to ourselves.

I had to stop reading this book at one point. Of course, someone was reading it to me. I just couldn't stomach it. That doesn't mean I haven't said the word. When I was living at Los Robles and Reg had his two sons over for a weekend, we were all sitting around the pool and chatting about lots of stuff. It was a lovely evening as I remember. Until. I mentioned that I was reading this book and talked about what it had to say.We must have been talking about school. I thought it was an interesting concept if only because it made me realize that "the" word was about a place in society. It had morphed into a state that any person could find him/herself in. The boys were appalled. I have never uttered that word again.

So I'm all for doing something that makes Huck Finn easier to read. I'm not sure slave is the answer. As the guy on the Daily show said, the new edition exchanged an adjective with a job description. He also said that skipping over the language that was used at the time Huck Finn was written is like not reading all the parts of the Constitution, no matter how stupid they were. He was 3/5 behind reading the whole thing. I somehow finished the book. It took a lot of internal discussion to convince myself that this was history as well as fiction. And a darn good story about a wily boy.

Happy New Year

The new year finds my friend Per still mending from his wound that was discovered in May. Yes, eight months. He should have held out for the baby because he would have known then that it would all be done in February. It's a good thing that he is such a techie guy. He is showing me how he can watch his home TV while recovering from a bit of plastic surgery in a nursing facility. Soon he will be happy that he opted for a whole and complete body. It's just that soon keeps moving.

I've also been needling, of course. For a little while it looked like my lady had a speech bubble filled with talk of flowers. I don't know what the other blank space represents. Maybe her heart was filled with flowers as well. I think I get a little too close to the picture to see how pretty it really is. That light color behind her head is just slightly lighter green. It looks more interesting here.

I've found a great new-to-me series, The Dresden Files. I got Side Jobs, a compilation of short stories and soon learned they are about a wizard. Yuck. Then I talked to my friend, Tom, about them. He really loves these books or likes them despite their wizardness. So I finished that book. Very good. And now I've finished the first book in the series, Storm Front. It's great to have a new series. My brother, Eric, was telling me how sad he is that none of the authors who write his favorite series has published a paperback recently. He doesn't like wizards either. But I hope I talked him into trying just one of these because it could give him a buffer until new books come out in his series.

Eric recommended The Great Game to me. It seemed that this was a good book for paper, so I received it this Monday. Adrian co-opted it and I hope to read it soon. It's the history of Afghanistan and Adrian seems to be enjoying it. In fact, I think he's finished it. I should be able to get my hands on it soon. I've just finished The Spoils of Poynton while waiting. Something tells me this is the other end of the world from the Middle East. One woman is totally consumed by love of the treasures she's brought into her house. Those are the spoils of Poynton, which her son will take over once he marries. The book tells a lot about the place of women in society at that time and about the rules of society at that time. Very interesting. I'm so happy I grew up in a time when more options were open to women. I have a feeling that there are still rules. Lots of rules.

And here is my lady as she stands this morning. There are still tiny spots that need filling in in the upper left flower bed. But she is looking much closer to completion.