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I've heard that LJ is going to start purging unused accounts later in August.

I've been sitting on the community [livejournal.com profile] horary since forever, but never used it.

Keep or let go?
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I'm starting to look for a forever home for the very sweet Kobe cat. I can't find his owners, Bruce's allergies are intensifying, and Mina (cat #1) is starting to act out.

Photos of the Kobe cow cat.

I would rather keep him... he is such a love.
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Not an April fool's post... we've taken in a stray cat again. What is wrong with us? He's just a love.



Our downstairs neighbors called us Sunday night and said, "There's a cat crying on the front steps, he's been there for an hour, is he yours?" No, but it was raining and he was cold, so we took him in. I'm postering, informing animal control, etc. I hope we can get him home.
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Rescued on Market Street, Brighton, Friday night. I wanted to call her Folly (as in "what folly has possessed us to do this") though now I think Pandora would fit.

Would you like to take her home? She's sweet. We already have a cat who's happier being a singleton.

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Speedwalking down a corporate hallway, I give a full-arm wave to Brad, a colleague walking in the opposite direction.
"Christine, what're you doing?" he says.
"I'm walking. What else would I be doing?"
"You look like trouble," says he.
"Trouble?" says I. "With a capital T, and that rhymes with P, and that stands for pool?"
"That stands for pool," says he.
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Making crackers from scratch: not my most successful endeavor. I'm following a recipe ("Ugly Crackers") clipped from Yankee magazine at least 10 years ago. Blue cheese, sesame seeds, flour, milk, stuff like that. They suggest rolling out the dough with a hand-cranked pasta machine, which I don't have, so instead I rolled out sheet after sheet by hand on the kitchen table, as thin as I could. Oh, I also substituted some whole wheat flour for part of the white.

But I guess I'm not getting them thin enough, because when I follow the directions (350F for 8-10') what I get is more like "fold-ers" or "bend-ers", not crackers. They don't seem to be drying out to crispness after several hours on a cooling rack, either. So now it's messing-around-with-crackers time. [livejournal.com profile] snarkyman threw some back into the toaster, and they were quite nice heated up like that, but still not crisp. So he threw them back in, turned the dial to maximum time, and went back to watching Top Gear. Result: clouds of smoke pouring from the toaster and what he's now calling fire-roasted crackers. "Blackened" is more like it. I unplugged the toaster and left it on the back porch so as not to set off our extremely jarring smoke alarms.

I've got a sheet of them in a cool oven (250F) for half an hour. We'll see what they turn into. But I also put a little pot of water on to boil after something [livejournal.com profile] snarkyman said... that my sheets of cracker dough, sliced into squares with a pizza roller, looked like pasta. Cupful of failed crackers, one pot of boiling water, and five minutes later = not utterly inedible pasta-like substance. Pretty good with red sauce. It kind of makes me want to mess around with pasta recipes now.
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Neil Gaiman Friday night at MIT: awesome. Just wrote up a little thing about his birth chart for my astrology blog. I think there's much more to be said. Would love to do a full-length article about this sometime when I have more natal astrology under my belt.
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Mary Oliver poem on my mind this morning.


The Kingfisher

The kingfisher rises out of the black wave
like a blue flower, in his beak
he carries a silver leaf. I think this is
the prettiest world--so long as you don't mind
a little dying, how could there be a day in your whole life
that doesn't have its splash of happiness?
There are more fish than there are leaves
on a thousand trees, and anyway the kingfisher
wasn't born to think about it, or anything else.
When the wave snaps shut over his blue head, the water
remains water--hunger is the only story
he has ever heard in his life that he could believe.
I don't say he's right. Neither
do I say he's wrong. Religiously he swallows the silver leaf
with its broken red river, and with a rough and easy cry
I couldn't rouse out of my thoughtful body
if my life depended on it, he swings back
over the bright sea to do the same thing, to do it
(as I long to do something, anything) perfectly.

--Mary Oliver
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I hope you can glance at this Boston Globe story (and that it's not subscriber-locked)...

http://www.boston.com/news/local/breaking_news/2008/04/vandals_rip_up.html

I guess the city has been planting saplings, and someone came along and pulled 18 of them out of the ground, just for spite.

Note the name of the city tree inspector? (Cut to set up punchline.) )
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"Pre-Madonna."

(and even THAT was even misspelled in the Salon letter I just read. he spelled it "pre-Maddona")
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C: What should I blog about?

B: Dinner! Our cat!

C: I like our cat.

B: That's a Twitter, not a blog.
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We're back this evening from a party at a mag-ni-fi-cent house in Dorchester built in 1888. Like a Tardis, so much larger on the inside than it appears from the outside. Elaborate and meticulous woodwork on ceilings, walls, doorways (including a "wine, women & song" triptych on the doors of the built-in dining room cabinets). Great polished mirrors reflecting chandeliers and vases of red roses. Stained glass ranging from original floral to a custom-made Swan Boats & Public Garden scene. Detailed friezes. Ceiling medallions. A kitchen with a glorious marble backsplash and three-part sink with huge taps for filling equally huge pasta pots. The pantry with TWO doors into the dining room. Our host's partner took us on a house tour, showed us the library and the deck and the various second-floor bedrooms and offices and the servants' quarters with extra closet space for the gentleman's seasonal wardrobes. And then took us to the THIRD floor where two rooms and a bathroom are in various stages of refurbishment, and where the "ballroom" is. Easily 20' x 40' I think. Later our host walked us down to the basement, showing us some of the original gaslight fixtures and the original root cellar (and the pie safe, complete with key!), and the chauffeur's quarters featuring the one working fireplace and another fantastically glowing stained glass window, and the garage complete with (no longer functioning) turntable to rotate the gentleman's vehicle, and the built-in gas pump, and the minuscule fire extinguisher, itself extinct.

I ate the most tasty chocolate cake there, and nearly laughed when our host shared the secret. Prepare a store-bought chocolate cake mix per the package directions, adding an extra egg to whatever it calls for. Add some good cocoa (no precise amount specified) and maybe a little cardamon or instant coffee powder. To this, add 4 cups of grated zucchini from which you have squeezed the excess water. Bake as per package directions, for a few minutes longer than directed. Remove from oven when a toothpick inserted into the center comes out with just a few crumbs attached. For the ganache frosting, boil 3/4 cup cream, remove from heat, beat in 8 ounces of chocolate chips, let sit a few minutes, and beat again. Spread this over the cake. Devour. OM to the power of NOM.
cosmicgarden: (mina kitty)
... I think "Frolic" and "Detour" would be great names for cats.

*snicker*

Apr. 2nd, 2008 08:49 pm
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I've asked Google Alerts to send me daily alerts for news on certain search terms that interest me: astrology, horary, and some personal and professional ones. The emails come to my Gmail address.

This afternoon a handful of Google Alerts arrived at once - and Gmail sent them straight to the spam folder.

HA HA
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and I'm supposed to find her some duck.
or venison, says the vet. or maybe some rabbit.

(do I have SUCKER stamped on my forehead? it's okay, you can tell me.)

Using my amazing astrological powers, I have convinced myself that it is temporary.

sigh...
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My employer is currently selling Staub French cocottes, skillets, tajines for Moroccan cooking, and other goodies at a nice savings off the usual price (Cooking.com, etc.). Still not cheap, but if you were in the market for nice cast iron or ceramics... pretty colors... ooh shiny... I bought a saffron yellow tajine and it arrived yesterday. Now to find me some recipes...
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Am really digging Bloglines these days for keeping all the blogs I surf to in one useful place. I'm always shy to try some new site (mostly I'm shy to provide registration info & a password for Yet Another Damn Site), but this is as useful for my reading as del.icio.us is for keeping my bookmarks. And every few days I find myself on someone's site & remember, "oh, I could Bloglines this." So I do.

I now return you to my irregularly scheduled broadcast.
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Or his witnesses, anyway, just now. Two women and a little boy handing out invitations to a Jehovah's Witnesses event just over the town line - "it's tonight," piped up the child. I took the flyer and thanked them. "Good luck to you. Happy Easter!" I added. Which they did not reciprocate to me - I wonder why not.
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