Queen Mediocretia of Suburbia

Siiick

The Issue That Made Me A Republican

I've been a life-long liberal, but it seems the weekly Debate Show starring Rick, Ron, Mitt and Newt has begun to influence me.

And today I heard some news that has swung me hard into the "No Big Government" camp. I read about Big Government making some regulations that are beyond the pale.

Read the whole article here. But in essence, it quotes some Oklahoma senator making this claim:

"There is a potential that there are companies that are using aborted human babies in their research and development of basically enhancing flavor for artificial flavors ... I don't know if it is happening in Oklahoma, it may be, it may not be. What I am saying is that if it does happen then we are not going to allow it to manufacture here."

If there was ever anything that would make me want to go to Oklahoma just so I could eat an aborted baby, it's Big Government regulating that I am not "allowed" to.

 I can't TELL you the craving I've had for Oklahoma-raised -aborted fetus since I read about this.

Tasty? I bet. I imagine, given they're 50% egg, they taste eggy, maybe with a salty finish of oyster. Like lobsters, the older ones may weigh more and make a spectacular display, but they aren't quite as tender.

Massive Stones

 

The image above is of a person under some largish pinkish-brown stones at Missouri's own Elephant Rocks State Park.

When Gary and I were watching the intro to the State of the Union, we did notice the President congratulating some head of Defense. "Good job today," Obama casually said.

"What was that?" we asked. Then through the speech we kept trying to call the Defense Guy in to the story. We eventually settled that he was getting kudos for this part of the speech:

"And I’m proud to announce that the Department of Defense, working with us, the world’s largest consumer of energy, will make one of the largest commitments to clean energy in history, with the Navy purchasing enough capacity to power a quarter of a million homes a year."

Well, Gary just bounced in to let me know that we were wrong, instead Defense Giuy got props because Seal Team 6 (Killing The Bad Guys since 2011, As Far As You Know) went in and rescued an aid worker in Somalia ... probably while the President was winding up his speech talking about how great Seal Team 6 is.

State of the Boobies

I can't be the only one who saw the First Lady at the State of the Union tonight and thought "Ouch."

Her boobies. They were flattened. I mean, she looked great, in a pre-pubescent way, but that must have hurt to have the First Boobies strapped down with Spanx or whatever got her into that royal blue sheath.

 

Gary Update

Gary returned to the neurologist today. I wasn't there, but Gary was careful in the re-telling to clarify what the doctor actually said (as opposed to what Gary extrapolated).

Gary shared with the doctor what he thought was good news. The last few weeks he's been feeling better. For example, he hasn't had to wear his sunglasses while at work. He was able to tolerate the blinding glare of the fully-lit doctors office for an entire fifteen minutes before he got nauseated and had to ask for the lights off.  And, he doesn't have a headache anymore, just a tight uncomfortable feeling around his head.

"So you still have a headache?" the doctor actually said.

"No. Just a tight uncomfortable feeling."

"A headache."

"Not a headache. Just a tight uncomfortable feeling."

"That's a headache."

"Well, not like the migraine I had back in November."

"'Back in November?' You're still having that migraine. You still get nauseated in the light, you're fatigued, your head hurts. You are in pain."

"I'm not in pain."

"You are. Your blood  pressure is high. It shows you're in pain," the doctor actually said.

Gary agreed his blood pressure was ridiculously high. Plus, I went on the internet after I heard this account and read non-verbal inidicators of pain, and Gary is non-verbally screaming in pain. Grimacing, guarding, bracing, rubbing, he does it all.

Gary, of course, argued he was not in pain.

"Are you fatigued?" the doctor actually asked.

"Oh, horribly.  I'm tired all the time."

"That's because you're in pain," the doctor actually said. "Are your hands numb?"

"Yes! My hands have been numb!" Gary said.

"Yes, that's the next stage," the doctor actually said. (This numb hands business, this was news to me.)

Eventually, the doctor convinced Gary that this was still the initial migraine, and clearly the Topamax is not working. Then they had a long chat about the seizure activity that Gary had from the Topamax. When Gary talks about his seizure activity, he starts to feel more seizure activity, so much so that they actually asked if he might want his wife to come pick him up.

"Wait," I interrupted him, "They actually said that?"

"Yes they did," Gary said, "But I just stayed in the waiting room until I felt well enough to drive."

=========================

So, the poor guy. On the other hand, the lucky guy, having a migraine without too much of a headache. Dr. Google says they're called silent migraines. Gary's got a prescription for Cymbalta now.

Tonight, when I suggested that since I had made risotto and cleaned up after the dog he might want to be the one to bring the cookies in from the kitchen, he answered:

"I will help you even though I am evidently in constant pain."

Spy Dog

Well, after much experimentation (and abandoning the inaccurate instructions) I got the dog spy camera up and running.

I regret to say that of 40 photos, only three were not of the darkness between the dog's chest hair and his pillow. Also, the dog camera doesn't work too well at night with low light.

I imagined this graininess to be Gary's chair:

... and I felt certain this was the food in the bedroom:

But it took me five minutes to determine what this was:

I thought the dog has climbed into the attic when my back was turned, then I realized it's the dog's eye view of the closet when I'm on the step ladder (the white frame.) the circular eye shape in the back is the truck jack I use to jack up heavy things.

I think I need to keep tweaking the body position -- maybe hanging from the side of his head, not the front. And of course, no more night vision photos.

I Thought it Was My Fault

I learned something about MS from Mitt and Ann Romney via the Ladies with Multiple Sclerosis for Newt Gingrich Facebook page.

Mitt Romney revealed to Chris Wallace on Fox:

[After Mrs. Romney's MS diagnosis] "She said 'I can’t cook any more'  ... And I said, look, I don’t care what the meals are like. You know, I like cold cereal and peanut butter sandwiches. We could do fine with that as long as we have each other."

None of my neurologists told me my cooking abilities would decline when I got MS. I guess that's the thorough treatment you get when you're a billionaire.

A Link I Must Share

Thanks be to Magpie Musing for sending this my way.

The premise is that Mitt Romney did not have the "sack" to dump his wife when she got MS. We need a president who will drop-kick that dead weight and move on! Like Newt!

Go here and enjoy the darkness.

 

Kinetoscope of the Backyard

I'll glance in the backyard several times a day. I spotted a robin a few days ago: a rare sight for winter. I never see much activity in the backyard.

I realized today it's because I never wait for it. It's like I'm glancing at movie stills instead of watching the movie. But today I was working at home and I spent ten minutes looking out the window.

At first I just saw the bird feeder, squirrel nut cage, finch feeder, and the box of peanuts on the ground.

A squirrel jumped down to the cylindrical nut cage and chewed at the nuts behind the chicken wire. I usually would say, "Nasty squirrel," and move on.

But I stayed put, and in two minutes there were three squirrels twined around the nut cage like the three graces, until one twitched a tail and they all made off to the neighbor's yards. They'd gotten the message that the woodpecker was hungry. This giant woodpecker, which Gary says looks like a prehistoric creature, moved like an insect along the tree until it got to the nut cage. It speared a nut and skittered back up the tree.

I lost sight of him because a flock of starlings descended on the tree, paused, folded their wings and plummeted to the ground. No attempt to flap. They all landed on their feet and pecked at the ground debris, except for a few that flapped back up to the feeders.

Then the starlings went after the squirrel's peanuts. The squirrel positioned itself by the corner of the house, came in half way across the yard, gave a chatter, and the birds rose up in concert while the squirrel ran alone across the yard, grabbed a peanut, held it in its teeth and tore back to the house.

After a minute the starlings hailed back down to the ground and it all started over. The squirrel claimed a peanut four times before the starlings gave up. The last time I watched the squirrel dig a hole, drop the final peanut in, and (something I've never seen) it pushed the earth back in to the hole and patted it down (with its rodent claws).

It ran back across the yard and then the yard was empty. I turned away. I thought the show was over. I looked back and there was a crow the size of a tricycle out there.

I think I'm going to go old lady and spend a half-hour each weekend day just watching the birds.

Boiling Water

Yes, it's a video of me boiling water on the new stove. (Cameo by Gary.)

Video takes two minutes. Water boils in one minute.

I then boiled 8 quarts of water in a stockpot in 17 minutes after that.

Of the roast (cooked with the roast probe and convection roast setting), and the of the Brussels sprouts and Gruyere potatoes, Gary said, "It's like when I got my trumpet in high school. It cost twice as much as my old trumpet and I couldn't play it. I had to learn how to play all over again."

Induction Obstruction

You want to know about the Girls Night Out to christen the new range?

The installer pulled out the old range, said, "I can't install your new range," Gary said, "I TOLD YOU THIS PARTY WAS A BAD IDEA" and I began making calls.

My old range is hard-wired to the house and the new one expects a place to plug in. Understandable. I should have stopped two weeks ago when the salesman asked if my plug was a three or four wire plug.

"I dunno."

"How old is your house?"

"Twenty four."

"It's a three-prong then."

Well, no, it's a no-prong, and I probably should have checked but I was filled with induction lust. (It drew me in like a magnet.)

The range got as far as my garage. The electrician who came out today said."Whoa. You''re upgrading!"

So, slowly, so so slowly, the range is nearing the kitchen. After it's turned on and heats something I'll reschedule the GNO.