It really does. Seeing you did, too. Thanks for visiting.... | Read More
FANTASTIC...Blister in the Sun can still make my day any day.... | Read More
Thanks Erin. I got a similar answer from someone else, and I'm thinking that is the reality of it.... | Read More
Holy moly, I don't remember the technicalities but I think the police officer gets to sit there b/c... | Read More
Hi Lance! Good to hear from you. Hope you're more mobile these days. Oddly enough, mobility is... | Read More
Sunday marked the two year anniversary of Registration Day for Mike and me. It’s only fitting it took 731 days to finally get around to being
branded, er, banded. I actually had no idea it was coming and was pleasantly surprised.
We further celebrated with some homemade crab soup, being the first time we’ve made it in approximately seven years (it’s crazy expensive and labor intensive). We also made some french bread, and chocolate covered strawberries for dessert.
Despite his insistence he didn’t buy me flowers, on Saturday, we did plant some dianthus, torenia, and curcuma in our Normandy planters that we recently painted. Curcuma is new to me and I’m loving it. Exotic, tropical, and allegedly a fast spreading rhizome. Zone 8b is the life for me. Ok! The instant I begin typing like a garden pirate, it’s time to go. I will leave you with some pics of said flowers…yarrr.
Closer Look at the Planter
Wandering various corners of teh interwebz today, I checked into one of the only twitter feeds I follow, Shawz15er, and now have a new object of desire (not Andrew Shaw) THIS: –
WANT. WANT. WANT. Anyone got a spare $65k for me?
We have a volunteer plant growing in our side yard that we are unable to identify. Not knowing what it is has annoyed me enough to bring it up here in hopes that one of you keen-eyed or green-thumbed readers can help me out.
The side yard is about a 3 foot alleyway between my neighbor’s house and ours, but it is about 90% our actual property. It’s mostly overgrowth, and unfortunately, more greenbriar than I care to admit. (I hate you greenbriar!). Mystery Plant showed up about a year or two ago and we cut it down at least twice. When it started to come back again this spring we let it go to see what happens. It’s current height is about six feet tall and not very wide, maybe about two feet at most. It is growing up one main stalk and doesn’t seem to be branching off much (yet?). The colors in the pics are close to real life. The leaves are very waxy and smooth. It gets some shade, but lots of summer sun. It never droops even on the hottest days. Hope some of this info helps. We really want to know what it is, and if it is worth keeping, or if we need to hack it down before it eats our shed or something invasive like that.
In good garden news, the pampas grass we planted a few years ago has finally pamped. It was getting annoying because the two plants we had grew very big (even after a major cut back this spring) but wouldn’t go to seed, the coolest part of pampas grass. I now see this plant is one of those that needs to mature a bit before reproducing, like fruit trees. (Novel concept, eh, humans?).
In my inbox yesterday, I received an invitation to the Class of 1994, 20-Year High School Reunion. F*&^ me. Really? 20 years? The TimeGods are messing with me.
Of course, somethings haven’t changed since 1994. I’m still a sarcastic, jaded representative of Gen X, and therefore, obviously, I will not be attending any reunions. Most of the people from high school that I wanted to stay in touch with I have, thanks to connecters like FB. A reunion of the whole school isn’t all that necessary, although one of just my friends would be a blast, but I don’t see any of us organizing such an event.
In looking at the guest list for my school, I don’t recognize most of the people on there, even with pictures. The idea of going back to my home town sort of wigs me out, anyway. I have a healthy disconnect from Illinois that I’d prefer to maintain.
Regardless, I get a bit nostalgic for the good memories of those years. They were times of so many firsts, so many lasts, so many absolutes. Paths were laid on my brain that will forever effect me. I am especially and forever grateful to the bestest BFF anyone could have had (Kisov!). I could have never survived those years without you, my dear ginned-up Cheese. The Fun…Starts Here.
Admittedly, I’m a bit of a Canadaphile, so this being their day and all, I have used it as a good excuse to celebrate all things Canadian. If it wasn’t for the shit weather, I’d of moved there years ago (please don’t try to convince me that SW BC is ok because it doesn’t get much snow or below zero temps. If it’s not tropical, I can’t live there).
I started the day by listening to one of my two Less Than Kind mixes. Lunchtime was Neil Young’s Unplugged (remember the MTV Unplugged series, kids?), with a Good Ol Hockey Game thrown in there for fun. I foresee watching a few episodes of Corner Gas this evening after work. For those of you keeping count – 100 days until the opening of the 2014 NHL season (101 days for the Blackhawks).
Cheers to all of my ancestors who hailed from Canada (which is actually quite a few), and of course, to my friends up in the Great White North. Now, I just have to figure out where I can get poutine around here.
Time for another round of Gull Reef Club miscellany for you dear beachcombers.
*This Memorial Day, I resumed research on my Sinks family line, specifically regarding my fourth great-grandfather Noah Sinks. Grandpa Sinks and family were part of the wagon train of escapees from the Upper Agency, Yellow Medicine, all thanks to the valiant efforts of John Other Day. I am in the process of reading the Major Thomas Galbraith’s version of events at the start of the Sioux Uprising (Galbraith makes mention of Grandpa Sinks as his clerk in the report). In my research this weekend, I came across a newspaper article penned a few days after the attack on the Agency. The author was a soldier at Fort Ridgeley (west of the Agency). In it, he was reporting on the attack, and made mention that Maj. Galbraith’s wife, as well as the Sinks family, were all slaughtered by the Dakota-Sioux. He was obviously unaware that the people at the Upper Agency escaped in time and went east toward St. Paul (it was only those at the Lower Agency that were killed). I wonder if Grandpa Sinks ever saw this newspaper article reporting his demise? I would wager that he did. Copies available upon request.
*I actually completed another audio book not too long back. This one probably ranks as the worst I’ve listened to yet. It was Feed by M.T. Anderson. Conceptually, the story was great. It had a lot of potential. Unfortunately, the actual narration killed it for me. Anderson made attempts to craft new slang and lingo that was being used by American teens of the future. The slang became so distracting that it drown out the rest of the story. Of course, if Anderson was using this as a technique for the reader to hate the main character then it worked. I did hate the main character. In fact, I hated all the characters in this book, and hoped they would have all died of their festering lesions. I promise that’s not a spoiler (not that you were worried).
*As for some good reading? Try this: Everything is Broken, Quinn Norton. So well said, and so needed of saying. There were a lot of gems in there, but this one is worth sharing, “Security and privacy experts harangue the public about metadata and networked sharing, but keeping track of these things is about as natural as doing blood panels on yourself every morning, and about as easy. The risks on a societal level from giving up our privacy are terrible. Yet the consequences of not doing so on an individual basis are immediately crippling. The whole thing is a shitty battle of attrition between what we all want for ourselves and our families and the ways we need community to survive as humans — a Mexican stand off monetized by corporations and monitored by governments.” Her complaint could really be retold in a variety of ways covering a number of industries. It’s not just tech in which we’re screwing ourselves with laziness and acceptance of low-rent quality, which is then monetized and sold back to us. Everything is broken. What industry do you work? Bet it applies to yours too.
This article was posted via medium.com. I swear I wrote about my love for medium here before, but apparently I succumbed to laziness or low-rent quality blogging or something like that and failed. There is always something of interest to read there. Plus, medium has the bonus that they provide an estimate of how long it should take to read the article.
*2014 marks the 20 year anniversary of the release of The Division Bell. Wow. We all have certain songs/albums that we tie to memories, which inevitably become the soundtracks of our lives. The Division Bell is the soundtrack to much of my 1994, especially that summer. Just. Keep. Talking.
*I believe I witnessed some people attending a funeral virtually today. Three rather solemn young men, likely military, were sitting at a table in Ellis Square. Each had a device (phone or tablet) in their hands, and were all intensely watching the same video. One of the three had their volume up and I heard ‘Taps’. Sad, yet, technologically fascinating all at once.
*Not wanting to end on a sad note, or a virtually sad one, we have this much awaited announcement from Dog River, Saskatchewan – Corner Gas: The Movie is in the making! No word on when it will be available in the States, but I will be sure to get my hands on a copy. I’m so excited I want to ‘whoowhoo’ Hank (as-the-rodeo-clown) style.
I love it when (my world of) pop culture converges with hockey. Today, we have a hattrick of of sorts. It started with Brother Bobby hearing Juke Box Hero randomly on the radio, and letting me know. Then on the ride home from work It’s Ice (Phish) came on our music mix in the car. Now, we’re watching a random rerun of Seinfeld and it is The Face Painter episode. Hattrick!
As you may recall, laaaate last Saturday night, I contemplated why the Chicago Blackhawks play the Foreigner song Juke Box Hero so often at their home games. In a Facebook conversation that subsequently followed, I promised to contact the team to see if we could find out why.
I have some postcards at the ready, and below is my draft text on what I plan to write. I’d appreciate any input you have. I’m already seeing subject irregularities that need to be addressed (I or we – make a choice). I’m going to try to send these out tomorrow afternoon. Thanks for any help you’re willing to offer. I promise to share any results I get with you here at The Gull Reef Club.
Greetings from all the Hawks fans in Savannah, GA! I noticed that the Foreigner song, Juke Box Hero, is played at most Blackhawks home games. However, it’s not listed on the Hawks’ webpage listing the commonly played songs. We’re curious as to why this tune is played so often. If there is a joke here, we’d love to be let in on it. Thanks for any information you can provide. Thanks as well for all the good work you do at keeping the crowd pumped. We appreciate it. GO HAWKS!
Do any of you know why the Foreigner song, Juke Box Hero, is played at most Chicago Blackhawks home games? Is there a reason at all? I freaking hate that song. Yet, it gets stuck in my head, as it has been for awhile now tonight. Grrr.
Being a superlative sleuth, I think I located the email address for the in-game entertainment director for the home games. This person may have the answers I seek. Since it’s already past 2:30am, I think I’ll wait until morning to decide if it’s worth bothering to shoot off an email to ask. Maybe I’ll get lucky and one of you will let me know before then.
*Just finished another audio book, Flight, by Sherman Alexie. It was very short, and very, very f*d up. I think I enjoyed it. Not sure if ‘enjoy’ is the appropriate word though. I didn’t know much about Alexie before this book, so I don’t think I knew the boundaries would be pushed so far. That should happen more often, especially in young adult lit, which I think this was. Coincidentally, this news article about another of Alexie’s books came out as I was mid-listen to Flight. Hilarious. I had no idea anyone tried to ban books in the US anymore. I guess I shouldn’t be so naive. Go kids go.
*Continuing down the incredibly long road of restoring our home (1920), we picked up one of these today: manual doorbell. Our house had one originally, but by the time we bought the place only a part of it remained and even that was in bad shape. Mike has offered to make a new plate for the outside with a custom etch that says ‘ring’ or ‘turn’ or something. I kind want it to say ‘engage’ but that might be pushing the geekiness, even for me.
*If I ever get to become a time traveling super hero, I want this as my ride: VOXmobile. Also, since I’m randomly wishing, I want that outfit the chick in the cover photo is wearing, too. I would totally wear that, while driving my VOXmobile of course. Outta this world.
It appears I’ve been at this blog thing for a decade now. Obviously. I mean, who else even blogs nowadays but 30+yearolds who refuse to dumb themselves down for Twitter and the like?
What started as a way to keep up with a few online friends (through livejournal – remember that relic?), has turned into my virtual home for personal history, narcissism, and sarcastic commentary. In retrospect I realize I should never have bored you Beachcombers with narrations of my dreams. My sincerest apologies. Could I have been more boring?
Actually, I have no idea what interests you readers, or if you’re even reading. If you are, thanks. I really do appreciate the audience. I find comfort in socializing through the written word. I suck at talking to people, so I do try to use The Gull Reef Club as my means of sharing a little of myself with you.
In the spirit of sharing, here’s some randomness from in and around The Gull Reef Club:
* I finally finished the audio book, whose ending had been in suspension for me for nearly two weeks. It was Robert Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. The ending was a bit predictable, but I liked the book a lot. This was my first Heinlein book, and certainly not my last. Recommendations always welcome.
* Keeping with the revolutionary reading theme, I also recently ran across these little Savannah gems – Albion’s Voice, Issues 1-6. Albion’s Voice was an alternative news
paperletter published in Savannah in, at least, 1970. They are an absolute riot to read, complete with peacenik politics and hippy slang. One of them describes a sparsely attended peace rally in Bacon Park, which was a great slice of Savannah history. There is also a hilarious, grossly sarcastic article about black men and their perceived sexuality in the first article. Read that if you read nothing else.
* What are you doing August 21-September 1? Come join us on our new couches for The. Best. TV. Marathon. Ever. And yes, you read that right. Jaime and Mike are all growed up and have matching living room furniture. Finally. Starting working on my ass groove already.
* Congrats to the Chicago Blackhawks for beating St. Louis, and moving on in the playoffs. More playlists to come.
*Two weeks ago, Mike and I planted our second citrus tree, a lime. The orange we planted last year did so well, including through our harsh winter, we couldn’t resist getting the citrus we have always wanted. In light of the stories coming out of Mexico about limes, this may be good timing on our part. Well sort of. It’ll be a few years before it is really productive. So cartels, you can stay away for awhile. Now I just have to figure out if we can get a coconut tree to grow here and I’m set for life. Note: I’ve never seen coconut trees in Savannah. Tell me if you have.
Thanks again for joining me here at the Gull Reef Club. Happy Decade to us. Cheers!
The last playlist seems to have worked. So, today, I kept it mostly the same, but no Chelsea Daggers (away game). I did recently learn the name of a swing song I have liked/known by sound for a long time, just never knew the name of, etc. Turns out that it is called Skyliner and the most famous version was done by Charlie Barnet and his orchestra. I bet you know it, too, and will be humming it for the rest of the night. It’s quite catchy.
This post is mostly for my brother, and for anyone else who is as intense about hockey as we are.
This was the playlist from the first Hawks-Blues series game, 17 April 2014:
Chelsea Dagger, The Fratellis
Right Back to Where We Started From, Maxine Nightingale
One Great City, The Weakerthans
Space Oddity, David Bowie
Please Come to Boston, Dave Loggins (came on random 70s mix)
Highwayman, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings & Kris Kristofferson (always dedicated to Duncan Keith)
The Walker, Fitz & The Tantrums (courtesy of Bobby!)
That did not work out, and the bad luck carried over to Saturday’s game as well. Monday, I wasn’t up for making a playlist, thinking I had jinxed things with the first two games (yes, the Blackhawks’ performance it totally dependent upon the music my brother and I listen to). I sulked and listened to Buddy Guy most of the day (what better than blues on Monday?). I also did manage to squeeze in a Chelsea Dagger. Of course, they won on Monday.
We have another game tonight, and a new playlist is already going. So far today:
Chelsea Dagger, The Fratellis (duh!)
Ride Captain Ride, Blues Image (for Captain Serious)
When the Circus Comes to Town, Phish version
The day’s not over so there will be more, but this is the start so far. What are your hockey tunes?
It is NOT cool to bring your pets to the store…any store, well except Petsmart. Repeat: It. Is. NOT. Cool. To. Bring. Pets. To. The. Store.
Don’t be an insecure loser. Leave your pet at home.
Had a mini 20 year high school reunion here this week with my dear friend, Jen fka JJ from E.L.B.Y., with the bonus of finally meeting her delightful hubby. I am a bit skeptical about the reality that we have known each other for over two decades now, but the math seems to be working in that direction. In honor of the occasion, I listened to our ‘anthem’ album in the shower tonight…and then concluded I shouldn’t have had the iced tea with dinner (I’m never going to sleep now).
As I’m relatively new to the world of library-loaned audio books, I ran into my first ‘problem’ of sorts. Time budgeting. I don’t really have that much time to devote to listening to a book. My time listening is usually done in either the shower or while I’m brushing my teeth at night.
I was, am actually, only about an hour and a half away from finishing a very awesome audio book. Unfortunately, it expired on Saturday. I immediately went to renew and someone had already snagged it before I could. Slow, clicky finger, I guess. I put myself on the waiting list, but that still that means I have to wait at least two weeks before I get the satisfaction of hearing the ending. So frustrated. Grrr.
This morning as I awoke, I recalled I was dreaming that Savannah had gotten a Menards. I was as excited as a kid at Christmas. So long anxiety dreams of remembering my high school locker combination. Welcome to adulthood.
Earlier today, I called over to my local pharmacy to see if the prescription that I had dropped off earlier in the week was ready. The tech asked me my birthday in order to look me up, not an unusual request. I reply, “Ten-Fifteen-Seventy-Six”, to which most people would have translated to 10/15/1976. No, not this time. Genius-tech repeats earnestly, “10. 15. 1876?”
Yeah, dumbass, I’m a 138 year old woman calling to see if her birth control is ready. Thank goodness the Rx is compounded off-site.
Without evidence or support other than my own astute observations, I have concluded there must be a conspiracy by the pantyhose makers of the western world to: a) make them so they run within 2 wears and b) remind us tiny ladies that we are a minority. Point A is obvious. They all run within a few wears, no matter the brand and no matter how careful one is to wear and store them. Point B is a little harder to prove, so I’ll challenge you to find a well-stocked selection in any store – online or terra – of Size A/Small, nude/bare pantyhose. It appears store stockers believe all women are fat and tanned. Nothing but Bs and Queens in suntan – everywhere. It’s a conspiracy I tell you.
This afternoon, Mike and I transplanted three plants that should have never made it through winter. The first was a may night salvia that we bought last spring (2013). We had intended to plant it, never got around to it, and there it sat in it’s little plastic pot for a year. Somehow it survived being completely ignored, including the harshest winter I’ve experienced in Savannah. Recently, we noticed it has begun again to flower. There’s no way we could ignore a little volunteer like that any longer. Today, we transplanted it to a larger, terracotta pot, in better soil. That should do wonders for a plant of that strength.
The second two plants were red new guinea impatiens that we had originally purchased for the planter box that Mike made last summer. In the fall, we moved them out of the planter box and replaced them with an aster (a more fall flower). At that time, there were eight or so clipped stalks that still had flowers, so I brought them in and put them in large Oktoberfest-style, clear glass steins for vases, being appropriate for later September/early October. I thought they’d eventually lose their flowers and I’d toss them away, normal cycle of life stuff here. Nope. Not these fighters. They grew roots, hearty roots, and kept on, and on- throughout the entire winter. I did change the water periodically, and even added some liquid fertilizer once, which mostly resulted in an explosive growth of algae. Today, we planted these volunteers in the most appropriate container we had – a volunteer. A few months ago we had a windstorm blow over someone’s hanging basket. It was in great shape, so we took it in for a day just like today. It could not have worked out better.
Good luck, little volunteers!