Two Hamburgers

Spouse suggested that we eat at The Counter, which he had been to previously and I had not.

His burger:

two-hamburgers-1

My burger:

two-hamburgers-2-2016-12-03-203037

I may be a little unclear on the concept.

Thematically related (in that there are his and mine), here are desserts we ordered at a different place:

two-desserts-2016-12-02-205913

His, in back, is cheesecake “spring roll” (rather like a blintz) with vanilla bean ice cream, and mine is pineapple upside-down cake with coconut ice cream.  Both with caramel sauce.  Rather to my surprise, I liked the coconut ice cream best of all of these sweets.

 

A Dream Come True

sees-box-2016-11-26-20-13-53

A couple of nights ago I dreamed that I had a two-pound box of See’s chocolates.  It was really that specific.  Most of my dreams can’t come true (and a lot of them I wouldn’t want to), but this, I could do.  Mmm.  (And yes, it’s a two-pound box.  The other things I like are in the first layer.)

Changing Lightbulbs

Our house is largely an A-frame, and came with a chandelier to match.

chandelier-off-2016-11-20-15-54-32

(The thing hanging from it is a glass art piece, not part of the chandelier itself.)

We don’t use the chandelier often because it puts out a lot of heat and consumes a lot of electricity, at least compared to other lights in the house.  It’s a shame, because the room does get dark and the two lamps to either side of the couch don’t do much for the other half of the room.

So spouse replaced all 25 25-watt bulbs in it with 40-watt-equivalent LED bulbs.  And since he was up there on the ladder anyway, we decided to dust all 104 pieces of glass hanging from it.

chandelier-without-glass-2016-11-20-15-23-24

(When we first looked at the house, I asked if the chandelier came with it, and the previous owner said, “Yeah, you get to clean it yourself!”  Of course, this had never occurred in the 4 years since then.  Fortunately, since the glass is vertical, there actually wasn’t much dust on it.)

The end result:

chandelier-on-2016-11-20-15-48-19

It’s now on, and the room has a comfortable lightness that isn’t actually that bright at the couch.  It’d be enough light to knit by and maybe read by (haven’t tried yet), and is definitely enough for laptopping.  And, of course, the two floor lamps are still on either side of the couch for when more light is needed.  Where it will really help is in playing games, because from where I sit the lamp at the other end of the couch reflects onto the TV and renders the upper-right corner very hard to see, which has actually made a difference at times.

I’m pretty happy.  It’s really nice to have light in the rest of the room, without guilt or overheating.

A Four-Year-Old’s Drawing of Trump

amiras-drawing-of-trump-2016-10-15-17-42-23
“Trump should be LOCKED in a BOX and sent to MARS!”

I visited my friend K and her daughter A a couple of weeks ago, and K told me that A had watched the (second?) debate with her father and did not like Trump at all.  So she drew this picture of him being locked in a box with eight locks, two on each side, and sent to Mars.  Why Mars, I have no idea.

Music Everywhere

Just after making the previous post, I happened to hit the armrest next to me with my ring. The resulting tone was surprisingly musical. (I’m waiting at a gate in the Melbourne airport, and the seats are the usual rows separated by metal armrests.) I noted this to spouse and he rang the two on either side of him. They were close in pitch, though sharp to the one I rang.

If I had something like a mallet I might well check the rest of them. They’re presumably close in pitch since they’re basically all the same size.

Just now we were informed that our gate was changed. Since I was standing up anyway, I rang a few more armrests. They probably all would be considered the same note (D, says spouse with perfect pitch), but not in tune.

I do the same thing in restaurants with nice glasses sometimes. And I can pretty much never drink a bottled drink without playing it like a flute. Straws in drinks sometimes too.

A couple of weeks ago when my lungs were x-rayed (not x-rated, thank you phone autocorrect) the machine made sounds like the first three notes of a piece I knew. Eventually I remembered it was the Army of the Nile March by Kenneth J. Alford, which I played in 11th grade. I spent the entire ride home reminding myself how the piccolo part went.  I also remembered noting how the various start-up sounds of my grandfather’s computer and printer made were kind of musical, which is probably why I still remember them 20 years later.

Found music. If it’s not a thing it should be.

The Fun Never Stops

Last Thursday I went to the doctor about the on and off cough I’ve had for several weeks.  The exam revealed nothing, so she ordered a chest x-ray — which showed I have pneumonia.

On Saturday I was eating some nice, soft dim sum and suddenly felt something hard in it.  It was the crown for my backmost tooth.  Fortunately, I was able to reach my dentist and she said to come in Monday morning for it to be recemented.

Monday (yesterday) I went to the dentist and had the crown put back in.  My dentist also noticed I had a cavity in a front-facing tooth and filled it.  With my face all numb, I backed out of the rather tight parking space and into a van that hadn’t been there when I got into the car, with the driver about five steps away.  She was much calmer about it than I was, possibly because she was on the way to pay a $1200 dental bill for her son’s retainer.  Don’t know whether she’ll follow up on it or not, as she seemed inclined to wave it off after verifying that the sliding door still worked, but I insisted that she get my insurance information.

Did I mention that this Saturday I’m leaving for Australia for two weeks?  I can hardly wait to see what will happen to me tomorrow.

I’m not the only one with dental woes this week.  I took Velcro to the vet for a dental cleaning this morning.  Poor guy was not happy about the car ride, and also not happy about being shut away from food last night, but was very happy that I stayed the night in the guest room with him.  I hope that was enough compensation for forty minutes of rush-hour car travel.

Times Change

I don’t write about politics, but I had to share this bit I heard on the radio yesterday, while driving home sometime after Hillary Clinton’s speech.  A number of DNC attendees brought their daughters to hear her speech.  The radio reporter asked a couple of girls there whether they felt inspired by the speech and the notion that they too could become President.  The first one, a twelve-year-old, said she was.  The second, a six-year-old, went a little differently:

Reporter: So do you think you could become president someday?
Six-year-old: No.
Reporter: Why not?
Six-year-old: Because I want to grow up to be something else.
Reporter: What’s that?
Six-year-old: A farmer.

I loved that.

The mothers who brought their daughters there said they’d never expected to see a woman presidential candidate in their lifetime, and it was deeply meaningful to them.  I wish my grandmother had lived to see this.  She tried to vote for Hillary in the 2008 primary, having been a longstanding supporter, but had deteriorated to the point where she couldn’t sign her name, just write circles.  My mother included a note explaining this, but of course we have no idea whether it was counted.  Grandma was still alive when Obama was elected, but not very aware at that point (although she did ask once if the election had happened, and was pleased to hear that “we won”), and passed away the following year.

When I was, I dunno, a teenager, I enjoyed reading a Reader’s Digest Treasury of Wit and Humor, culled from the humor sections of RD.  It was published in 1957.  One was a cartoon of a nurse telling a new father, “Well, you have a future President of the United States… if we ever have the good sense to elect a woman.”  That’s what Grandma, and Mom, grew up with: “future President” being used to announce that the baby was a boy.  I wonder if that phrase is still used that way.

Just remembered another anecdote from the RD book, told by a teacher who had asked her young students to draw what they wanted to be when they grew up.  Most of the kids got to work drawing, but one girl just scowled at her paper.  When the teacher asked why she wasn’t drawing, the girl said “I want to be married when I grow up, but I don’t know how to draw it!”

This is probably why I loved that six-year-old’s ambition to be a farmer so much.