Upon experiment, not sure how I feel about that....

Maybe I did it wrong.

First, read this.

Then, assemble one of these.

Third, get plenty of rest and exercise, drink fluids, eat nutritious food,  and handwash, handwash, handwash. Your flu vaccination (which you got, right?) will not protect you from this one. If you get sick, call your doctor (if you have a doctor) and stay home. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.

Don't panic.

(Note large friendly yellow letters.)

No, you cannot get the swine flu from eating pork or from going out in the cold.

The "good" news is, all the known deaths so far are in Mexico, and cases reported elsewhere seem "mild" (as mild as flu gets, meaning, not requiring hospitalization (ETC: One US case required hospitalization)). Which may mean that there's a second, opportunistic infection piling in in Mexico City (though that's total speculation on my part) or it may mean something else entirely.

*political commentary about the lack of current heads for certain relevant government agencies redacted*

1) Friday night: arrive home safe, if tired, from Extensive Journeying. Greeted at door by spouse, who is holding something behind her back. Do not get hug, because whatever she's holding behind her back is... squirming.

Say, "Honey?"

Spouse says, "Don't be mad."

Spouse then produces a small black and white squirming thing that bears absolutely no resemblance to the First Dog, other than utter cuteness. In fact, it's not even a dog. Nor, despite the fact that it is white with a black face, feet, and ears, is it a Siamese cat. It has long floppy ears and a little spotted nose and it looks distinctly... disapproving.

Say, "You got a... bunny?"

Spouse says, "He's a baby Himalayan and he can be housebroken and he won't get very big and he likes people and--"

Say, "Somebody in the Department was giving them away and you've wanted a bunny since you were twelve?"

Spouse says, "Six."

Say, "What's his name?"

Spouse says, "UmTiger."

"Tiger?"

Spouse nods.

Reflect that Spouse is even cuter than the rabbit. Say, "Okay, but you have to take him for walks."

---

Saturday morning: Wake up early to doorbell. Open door to find itinerant monotreme co-worker bearing bagels, cream cheese, lox, capers, mysteriously decent tomatoes, red onions, mangos, strawberries.

Say "STRAWBERRIES!"

Notice calculating expression on monotreme's face as you dive upon the strawberries, still in your pajamas. Usher him into the still-half-disassembled kitchen anyway, to show off the working sink. Hand bagels and cream cheese and lox and trimmings to spouse for assembly. Mouth full of strawberries, ask monotreme "So what's the occasion?"

Monotreme, who is currently leaning over the (working!) sink sucking the leftover pulp off a mango seed with his eyes closed in bliss, takes his time finishing. "Well," he says, "I'm meeting Tasha and Keck at Catwalk, and I figured you probably wanted a day home with Spouse, but I figured the least I could do was drop by and say hi and let you know we were going."

Say, "You exist to torment me," simultaneous with Spouse saying, "I know where she keeps the guns."

Monotreme says, "Hey! Is that a bunny? Do bunnies like strawberries?"

Decide that now would be a good time to make coffee.

---

Saturday afternoon: Picnic in the park, complete with takeout chicken and a personal watermelon. Get a sunburn. Bliss.

Come home to your bunny.

---

Sunday morning: Sleep until noon.

---

In conclusion: best weekend ever.

...since the subject came up.

Gotta go with the Catholics on this one. They have a better sense of humor. (NB: Tongue in cheek warning. Via joeboo_k)

Also, time traveler's cheat sheet, via el_jefe.

So why am I sore in different places after yesterday's expedition Outside?

But it was awesome. New route (for me, anyway) on Old Rag. It was tough and tricky and I had three utterly embarrassing flail sections in spite of excellent Platypus advice, but at last I triumphed, like this: ! And was so full of adrenaline that we had to go throw ourselves at a bouldering problem downslope, which I fell off halfway up, which, for some reason, was hysterically funny. To me, anyway. But this is my journal, so it's, you know, about me. *g*

And I sunburned my nose. So it's totally spring, and I am a Happy Harpy.

Good thing, too, since the house is demolished. Well, partially. Mighty Contractor J adores the Platypus; she says if he ever gets tired of shooting at things, he can come work for her. She also regrets that neither T. nor I are as tall as Platypus, since we have high ceilings. She says it's wasted on us. *g* During the planning meeting they bounced around our intact-if-inadequate kitchen like kids with new Legos. MCJ has figured out how to re-use all the good 1950s solid birch cabinets (and where to rent the dumpster for the horrible fiberboard and laminate 1970s ones, presumably).

The refrigerator is plugged in in the dining room, and the microwave and the coffee maker sit beside it on a folding table. We won't starve. Yet.

Other Wisdom of MCJ:

1. Kitchen islands are a sub-optimal location for a range top. By definition, a lot of traffic moves around an island. Some of that traffic may be distracted, or may slip on a spinach leaf. Said traffic would be better off not running the risk of putting its hand down on a hot burner.

(I startled her by saying I'd once responded to three home emergency calls in one month that involved burns and kitchen island stoves. MCJ is not used to remodeling kitchens for AdventureSquad! members.)

2. You do not want a bigger kitchen. You want a kitchen two people can work comfortably in. After that, you want a more efficient kitchen. Bigger will only mean that the colander is always too damned far away.

3. Though you can have too many square feet, you cannot have too many electrical outlets. Or well-placed light sources.

4. Figure out where you'll spend the longest stretches of time in the kitchen, and put it where it has a view. We have a rowhouse, and no kitchen windows, so I figured this was a moot point. But MCJ gave me that "Don't make me slap you upside the head, Grasshopper" look and pointed out this is an open-plan remodel. The good view from the kitchen is into the dining room and living room. Oh, duh!

(She also worked out a totally sneaky way to get natural light into the kitchen via a skylight, even though the kitchen is on the first floor. It would add mondo bucks to the total cost, though, so we're holding off deciding on that 'til the last minute. We'll probably pass.)

Yes, there was dancing Friday. Our progress along the Trail of Clubs was interrupted only once: OMG unanticipated karaoke nightmare! We fled. *g*

I spend all day indoors looking at and thinking about yukky stuff. Which I don't mind, because I signed on to reduce the amount of yukky stuff, so it comes with the territory. But, it being April, I thought I'd take my lunch outside today. Kinda cool, a little overcast, but still, spring!

The cherry trees are blooming on the Mall. Hokey tourist stuff. They do it every year. Big deal.

Except they're beautiful.

I came back to work with a big stupid smile on my face and a petal stuck in my hair.

That is all.

Dude, nice forearms, but we really need to find you some clothes that fit:



(Tasha got a good one of me, too:

)

Damn, I want to take that lead climbing class. Unless you want to teach me? Huh? Huh? Huh?

Harpy: Bushy, you changed something. New glasses?
Platypus: He shaved off his goatee.
Bushy: I did. And now my face is all cold.
Tasha: Bunny! Come back, bunny! Whatever I did, I'm sorry!
Bushy: If you wanna make a clean start, the first thing you need to do it shave off a patch of hair somewhere on your body.
Platypus: Check, please!

Just now catching up with yesterday's paper. This is a nice thing to read over one's coffee and bagel.

"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

We lost Lux Interior, frontghoul for The Cramps.

Well, shit.

Hey, I recognize this glare....

Actually, I think I'll set that as my desktop for a while.

March 6 at the 9:30 Club.

Who's in?

Do you think Ada Lovelace was a jammer?

The new year means new routes all over the gym, and for some reason every single one has black tape on it. Okay, I lie. Two are green, and one is purple. But the rest are all black.

And tonight I tried five of them, all unrated.

I only sent one, the first one I tried, which is a tricky little ascent mostly on slopers and laybacks with a corner at the very top (a corner, and like no handholds, where "like no" means "one, and pointed in the wrong direction"). I must have falled off that durned thing twelve times before I finally tagged the top, and I only did it by jumping at it and tapping out as I fell past the biners. Maybe I'll make a decent ascent on Wednesday, unless the rain turns out to be freezing rain and we have to stay in.

Of the other five--on one, I couldn't get off the ground. Okay, I lie. I got off the ground. And then I fell off the second handhold, a nearly vertical sloper, every way I tried it. But considering the Platypus strained his left hand on the fourth move, and Tasha didn't get past the sixth, I don't feel bad. Then I made four or five tries at a new green route on the in-and-out overhang where I got my first 5.10(-) and didn't get past the first lip, so I went back down to the ground and tried an easier new route on the same wall, and I would have sent it if I hadn't been so pumped and burned out from the earlier climbs that not only did I fall off the wall (wheeee!), I couldn't get back on.

Last route was a long buckety green on the big overhang, but I lost it on the third or fourth move--my fingers just wouldn't close tight enough to hold me on the wall--and I scraped up my right palm by trying to stick the hold even as I was peeling off it. Next time for sure!

Who would have thought, a year ago, that I would be slinging the lingo so expertly, and bringing tactics to bear?

Coffee with vanilla and cardamom in it: win
Guy whose phone call got me out of the shower, offering to clean my "ductwork:" fail.

I wasn't sure if I was in Brazil or a porn movie.

There's a blues euphemism waiting to happen:

Baby let me clean your ductwork, honey.
Honey let me scrub your vents.