What fresh Hell is this?

So.  We elected a reality TV show host as president, as we know.  And apparently, he thinks the methods of reality TV can be transferred fairly seamlessly to government because yesterday he announced that he had decided whom (and you know he didn't say "whom") his supreme court nominee would be... and he would announce that name at EIGHT TOMORROW IN PRIME TIME!  Not only that, but apparently, just to keep us guessing, he is flying in several of the people on the shortlist!  So these people, all respectable long-serving judicial figures (thank God - he could have just picked Scott Baio), are being flown in, perhaps to parade in bathing suits for the cameras, and then several of them will discover it was all a waste of time.  NOT ONLY THAT, but (I shit you not) I (and presumably EVERYBODY IN AMERICA) just got this email in my own personal email folder:

JUST IN CASE we were thinking of trying to avoid this shit show. 
This is a dream, right?  It's all a terrible, terrible dream.

Flushing High School

As I may have mentioned, I'm currently teaching a class in a High School in Flushing, a fairly well-to-do suburb of Flint.  Today our class was the only one being taught (it was a holiday for everyone else) so I took the opportunity to take a few pictures without looking like a weirdo in front of gaggles of teenagers.  So come with me, if you will, into the halls and classroom of an American High School:

The cold has set in again, as you can see.  This was actually taken after the end of class as it's barely light when I get there before 8 in the morning.

No, not a scene from The Shining.  And remember: respect yourself!  Even if you're a pimply teen drenched in horrible aftershave.

Here's the view of the classroom I teach in from the door.  Although it's a High School there are pictures on the wall that look like 5 year olds drew them, and the teacher has cluttered up the whole room with nauseating bric a brac.

 Not to mention VERY cheesy platitudes.

Better signage in the hallways:

And the next mosaic project IS....

Inspired by the corals that are flourishing in my tank, I decided to create a coral mosaic. I'd made the frame a long time ago (it's about 4' x 4'), probably two years ago, but thought I wanted to make an abstract/cubist sort of thing. But I lost interest about a third of the way through and, after chipping all that off the surface, I left the empty frame substrate lonely and ignored in the basement for about a year. A month ago or so I had a flash of insight to do a huge close-up of the zoanthid polyps on corals (those are the little "mouths" that open up at night and catch food floating past their massive reef housing units). The plan is to make the polyps in ceramics and glass mosaic their "bodies" and the background. Here are about one fourth of the ceramic polyps:I have about 400 or 500 more to make, I think. (Keeping in mind the clay shrinks about 15% each time it's fired.) Once I know I have enough (more, in case of incidents and accidents) I'll glaze them. Sylvester isn't helping, though I know he thinks otherwise.

Planetarium palaver

One of the things that makes Flint special is that it has its own planetarium, home both to educational shows about the galaxy and special "Laser Pink Floyd" nights.  When we first arrived, it was surrounded by water with a fountain, thus:

Thomas even went paddling in there once.  However, a while ago they filled it in.  (Just as well they did it before the water went toxic.)  It then looked like this:

Okay, fine.  But now they're digging another huge hole.  Why?  What now?

Tummy Troubles

A few weeks ago I started having stomach pains that words fail to describe. "Sharp stabbing pain", "burning spasms", and "an icy clench" all fall short of giving the full picture. It was most unbearable when I bent over to put on my shoes. (Which was unfortunate as it is winter and going without shoes is unpleasant.) So, I headed to see a medical expert who performed all sorts of tests. The good news: I have no cardiac troubles WHATSOEVER! My heart will live on long after I die. Whoever inherits it will live another 200 years at LEAST. The bad news: she suspected acid reflux...or ulcerated esophagus...or it could be those pesky gall pebbles I had been warned about in May when I had my appendix removed. (Curse those small organs!) Step 1: I was to get a prescription filled for a super duper medicine. Step 2: I was to eat very, very small portions of food.  Step 3: I was to follow up with an appointment in a month to see how dramatically I had improved. Well, Step 1 was a bust because my health insurance company refused to cover the medications and I refused to pay $500 a month out of pocket.  Step 2:  I did eat tiny bowls of food, and that did seem to help a bit.  Step 3: I did return a month later for a follow up and I saw the same doctor (what--you think we suffer under a the yoke of a national health system that shuffles us around from one doctor to the next? Pfft! I live in the country with the best medical care in the world!) and she seemed kind of disappointed that I was still have troubles. She squeezed my abdomen (which didn't hurt so the appendix didn't grow back and become necrotic all over again) True, I was able to bend over without screaming in pain, but I was nauseous when awake and eating (even tiny portions) was sometimes painful. So she ordered a "scope", a procedure where they wind a camera on a stick down your throat, through your stomach and into your small intestines. Well, when you put it like that, who wouldn't want to get up before sunrise on a Friday morning to get scoped? This was yesterday. We (grandma and I) arrived a bit early and, because some deadbeat didn't show up, I was hustled in ahead of schedule. Several times I had to verify that I knew my own birthday and last name. Then they valiantly tried to get an I.V. in me. Hah! My veins are "shy" (that's what nurses tell me) and refused to cooperate for quite some time. I wasn't bothered--I would have been surprised if they had cooperated. Finally, the I.V. went in and I was wheeled into my little operating room: it was sectioned off from other operating stations by a curtain and the radio was playing a local rock station loudly. Well, whatever keeps the surgeon awake.  I was then turned on my side, a "bite piece" was popped into my mouth to stop me from clenching down on the camera--would I clench when fully anesthetized? What else would I do? It doesn't bear thinking about. Then I was told that I would soon fall asleep and then wake up in a different room--and they were right! Next thing I knew I was in a room (a curtained off space) that I had never seen before. A few seconds later the surgeon came in and told me the news:  Good news: no ulcer!  Bad news:  I have a hiatal hernia (this is when a bit of your stomach pops up above your diaphragm and forces its internal juices up into your throat--annoying stomach!) and gastritis (inflamed stomach lining which causes nausea before, during and after eating--pretty much constantly).  He then patted my arm and told me to call "any time I had questions".  And then, once again, I was given a high powered prescription for miracle meds that Simon found when he tried to get them from our local pharmacist that my insurance company won't cover. Aside from medicine I don't have access to, what is there to do about this g.i. plight? Not much, other than cutting a lot of foods I like out of my diet. Such as? Well, let's see. First, all citrus are out--too acidic. And this includes not just oranges but all citrus. I am going to miss pineapples. Apples are ok, (and so are bananas).All caffeinated drinks are out--no coffee or tea.And the "tea ban" extends to all teas, including decaf and herbal. (In fact, all peppermint in any form is out--which explains why all that peppermint I was eating to "soothe nausea" wasn't doing much.) I don't think I'll even pretend to commit myself to following this rule. I need caffeine--a LOT of caffeine. Also, no chocolate in any form. What else? No spices of any kind. No alcohol. No oils or fats. No carbonated drinks. No tomatoes in any form (no soup, sauces--pizza, pasta or otherwise, no slices on salads or sandwiches). No tasty sauces of any kind.  After being told all the foods I cannot eat, Simon said, "If I were you, I'd be really depressed right now." He then tucked into a cheese and tomato sauce soaked pile of pasta and afterwards followed it up with a giant wedge or chocolate.

And, of course, I'm supposed to relax and reduce stress.  So...don't read the news, don't think about politics at work, or at the local, national or global level, or, in fact, think about any aspects of the future whatsoever .  Yeah, that will work.

A very specific political niche

Frederick Gets a New Hat!

Some years ago Granny knit the perfect hat for Frederick--doesn't twist, keeps the ears extra warm but the head not too warm, no itch--in orange. (If you've been paying attention at ALL, you've seen it in dozens of earlier blog posts). The problem with having the perfect hat is that it only gets washed at the end of winter season because it's needed every day. Well, our muddy orange hat problems are over as today Frederick received in the mail another perfect hat--this one red: (Frederick isn't feverish--his face is bright red because he just came in from playing outside with Emily for the past few hours and it is dang cold out today.)Ok, enough is enough; Frederick has things to do.

Glass Shelves

Since bringing home a small mountain of glass, I have been reorganizing my work area downstairs, mainly working on a way to see and get at the glass bits easily. Shelves were the obvious solution:Apparently Simon has been secretly hoarding pizza sauce jars for the past year or so. I found them shoved to the back of the cupboards in the kitchen. I need about 10 more just to contain the worst of the mess. Looks like we'll be eating a lot of pizza in the near future.

And there it goes..

Today after dropping Frederick off at Emily's I came home to find both ducks with something to say. I went in the backyard to find out what was bothering them (usually it's squirrels but they have had that gopher, several different cats and a very hungry looking hawk visit them, so I usually try to make time to at least check things out). Today Pretzel led me to THIS in his pond!

And then he showed me THIS!

This tree had been lopped long before we moved here 17 years ago, and for years it was intact with bark, and not only hid the back end of our yard but also grew seedlings and provided a home for hundreds of animals (billions, of you count very small things).

Well, no more. Several interior homes are now empty.

Ugh. That back corner of our yard is not pretty. We need another 200 year old oak tree NOW.

High water in Flushing

No, this is not a post about a blocked toilet.  Flushing is a suburb of Flint (where I'm teaching high schoolers every Monday and Wednesday) where Frederick and I often go walking.  What with the warm weather, the river is higher in its bed than usual, and with eerie mists emanating from it.

Sylvester vs. cheeky squirrel

Jami donated our rolled oats to the squirrels.  Sylvester is outraged:

Misty and warm

 On the day after the dreaded inauguration, our mood was cheered by MASSIVE women's marches all over the world.  The one in Washington dwarfed the turnout for the inauguration, although Trump (a) outright lied about it, and (b) forced his press secretary to lie about it, berate the press for NOT lying about it, and then not take questions.  Meanwhile, the weather was freakishly warm at Seven Lakes.

 The ice is thick enough to hold up chunks of rock, but we didn't risk it.

President Trump

So it finally happened. Trump placed his grubby little mitts on a bible owned by Lincoln and said the magic words and now we have to pretend he's the president for 4 years. (After that the bible was whisked away and thoroughly disinfected.) Just so time travelers from the future know: this is the wrong timestream. It should not exist. This one leads inexorably to the apocalypse.

Near the Home Stretch

I started working on this just after I got out of the hospital in May, after the appendectomy. I was walking around through the neighborhood and all the wild grasses growing along the creek a few streets over had really great seed heads and the idea of a giant tile mosaic popped into my head. I had to make up about 50 pounds of clay first, before I could even get started. Once I rolled out a giant pastry-dough of clay I pressed the grasses into it. Then it took about a month to dry enough to cut into pieces, and another two months to dry. THEN came the firing. It's far more nerve-wracking firing a 30-odd piece set as if any one shatters, that pretty much kills the whole thing. In the middle of the firing my kiln broke down (as reported in an earlier post). Then I had to make the frame I mounted it on. That's my least favorite part as, if it looks crappy, the whole thing looks crappy no matter how good the ceramics look.I attached the tiles yesterday and the adhesive is still setting. (Those were big, heavy tiles.) It'll be another two days before I can hang it up. As usual the question then is: where to hang it? We're are pretty much out of wall space in the house so, I guess ANOTHER thing for my office.

How's Hank?

Campus was closed today because of "inclement weather" (translate: the chancellor didn't want to drive in to campus) which is the perfect time to go in and get a lot of work done undisturbed. But most importantly I could check up on Hank. Here he is, in his new favorite place, a rocky perch: He moved!Apparently star fish really love frozen krill so buying that is near the top of my list of Things To Do.

Ice and Rain

So, I'm teaching a class that begins at 7:40 AM on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Or at least, in theory. In practice, it's week 3 and we've met once, because THREE classes have been canceled because of bad weather. First it was snow (a very minor dusting - I think people canceled just because they had snow day credits to burn), then, last Thursday it was wet and balmy so I got into class and only started to wonder when it was 7:45 and nobody was there, and checked my email, and sure enough class had been canceled again, because the temperatures were about to plummet.  (Of course, my 11 AM class was NOT canceled, and by then they HAD plummeted and the roads were deadly.)  Then THIS morning, once again, we had the ice/rain combination, only this time in the opposite order.  I have an eager student assistant who is getting increasingly disillusioned.  Here's what the back yard looks like:

We'll draw a veil over the flooding in the basement...

New Office Mate

I haven't had a lot of luck adding invertebrates to my reef tank (well, that's not true: the crabs and snails are flourishing) but the slugs are, well, sluggish and the sea star I bought some weeks ago (no longer star fish--look it up) played dead until it wasn't playing anymore. So, rather than be shystered by another fancy pants aquatica boutique, I went to the nearest PetSmart and talked to my Local Reef Enthusist, who convinced me that this sea star had spunk and, if given proper loving care, would make the transition very well. How big will he get, assuming he doesn't dissolve as the last one did? No way of knowing as the inner life of red sea stars--these are the only "reef friendly" (read: won't eat all your corals when your back is turned)--is a secret that they aren't sharing. So far, so good: he survived the trip to the office and into his holding cell, which means he's outlasted his predecessor. Here's Hank, as he is called (named after the grumpy criminally minded Red East Pacific Octopus in the movie Finding Dory): I put him in this little tupperware container as I have to introduce water from my tank to his slowly and steadily (that is the "loving care" I mentioned earlier). I've been at work long enough to listen to two Pink Floyd albums and so far he's taken the water additions like a trooper. But, being the Outlaw Intertebrate he is, he has dedicated his efforts to looking for an escape--but, of course, only when I am not looking. When I watch him, he lets his arms dangle idly, and I can almost hear soft snoring. But after looking away to get a book off my shelf, I turn back to him and he is in a completely different place and different position in his little tub, again, listlessly drifting in the gentle motions of the water. How does he know? He doesn't even have eyes! He only has pinpoint sized light sensor disks, one on the end of each of his arms, and, more amazingly, he has no brain to process any of this visual input! Sea stars are largely stomachs--that's their largest organ, and it is at the center of their limbs, in their 'hub'; each arm is filled with all other organs in miniature, duplicated in each arm--yes, so they have 5 sets of sex organs, 5 sets of blood filtration systems--which is why they can not only lose all but one limb, but (if cut down the middle neatly) can split into two completely healthy new organisms--like humans 'twinning' in utero. They really are amazing.

There's a zoo in our living room

Yesterday Frederick and Emily brought home this project they have been working on for a while, between other projects.According to Emily, Frederick was EXTREMELY SPECIFIC about how he wanted every single feature to be painted and layed out. Well, good for him, I say. [Follow up: Emily texted me earlier today to ask how we liked Frederick's recent project. She said she liked the bear setup the best but Frederick's favorite was the ostrich. Another issue he was quite insistent about.]

wood

No longer in our neighbor's yard or on top of the garage, the fallen tree is now (in a lot of big pieces) in our garage--right where I should be able to park my car.

So, phase 2: chainsawing all those branches into smaller lumps. Astonishingly, all this is just from a part of one small branch of a medium sized oak tree. We have a much, much larger oak tree in our yard with many dead and near-dead branches. Can anyone say, "Under the sword of Damacles?"

Meanwhile, we do have a life, you know

As Simon has noted, the weather lately has been BRISK. Damn brisk. Since outdoor activity would not only be unpleasant but dangerous, we have been filling the hours with arts and crafts. Frederick and I made use of all the glass I inherited a while ago and he repurposed this small wooden tray (which originally held a collection of wooden food that we bought to go with his wooden kitchen set that we had many, many years ago). It's called "confetti". We have Project 2 already planned out. Updates on that in days to come.