A Regular Sort of Day
From somewhere -- reading too much, I expect -- I got the idea, when a child, that anything you do on New Year's Day you do every day for the rest of the year. This can be pretty daunting, especially on a New Year's Day when you need to do the laundry, as indeed I do.
So I sort of cheat -- it's not the precise activity itself that gets repeated every day, I figure -- nah. It's the general category. So "laundry," which I despise, is translated into "caring for the family." Fair enough. I SHOULD be doing that every day, anyway. So far so good. "Cooking," since I enjoy it, translates as "cooking" -- no problem there. That today it's hoppin' john, skillet cornbread and greens* makes no never mind. We can have scalloped potatoes and ham tomorrow (and we WILL! on account of that big ol' hunk of ham still left in the refrigerator drawer! only part of which will get consumed in the hoppin' john!) -- it'll still just be "cooking."
Knitting projects -- gotta be careful there, though. I intend to start NO new projects today, as frankly, I have no problem starting new projects. I'll work, instead, on something I'm having trouble getting done -- oh, let's say, the dread "Queen Anne's Lace" fairisle. And I may just pick up some embroidery, too, since I've got a lot of unfinished projects lying around and I never embroider anymore on account of having gotten myself tangled up in a semi-knitting blog.
But don't think I'm going to be blogging every day this year, just cause you're hearing from me now. Alas, no. "Blogging," I think, translates to "computer time."
Right. Like there's a day I'm off the computer.
Might as well try to make sure I get some time in breathing.
As for the other main subject of the week -- Arthur C. Clarke, who's lived in Sri Lanka for decades now, survived the tsunami, along with his family, and provides, on his foundation's web page, several links to charities he considers useful, including some local ones. Google has posted various links for relief donations -- right under its search box, a nice touch -- and I'd add Catholic Relief Services.
I recently heard from one of my Finnish email correspondents** that the number of Finnish dead -- over 200 -- makes this the worst catastrophe in Finland since WWII. A very high percentage of the tourists in the area hit by the tsunami were from Scandinavia. Around 300 Swedes are known dead, with another 1,500 still unaccounted for. This has naturally made me concerned about my Norwegian cousins -- about 3,000 Norwegians were in the area at the time, and they haven't (naturally) all been accounted for yet, though from what I can tell Norway didn't get hit as hard. But since every year the Christmas cards I get from them all -- just got some a couple of weeks ago -- are full of the yearly intinerary, which involves what seems to be constant travel all over the world, I'm -- well, I'm concerned.
Sam says if anything had happened to them I'd have heard, but I'm not so sure. I figure that if anything happened to one of my second cousins I'd hear, but third cousins once removed? I dunno. And I hate to be calling Oslo and Mandal just to see if people are still breathing. Hey, Mom, you do it, ok? Cause you've got second cousins. That's Very Close. As opposed to third cousins, which is pretty much just Christmas card close.
Of course, I COULD call Norway -- what time is it over there? Ah, they're still up -- and then every day for the rest of the year I'd be spending lots of money on overseas calls.
Or, perhaps, just "keeping up with relatives."
_______________________________
*Ok, quick! From that list of New Year's Day foods, decide where this family is from! (Constant Readers, you're disqualified.)
**My blogging buddy Amber refers to such correspondents -- and other blogging buddies whom one has not met -- as "imaginary friends." I'm proud to be an imaginary friend. Once you meet an imaginary friend, though, they're no longer imaginary. They actually exist, in a whole nother piece of your mind. Also, I'm confused -- what if your imaginary friend sends you presents? Cause this happens. It's no longer cyberspace. It's solid reality. Must ponder.
So I sort of cheat -- it's not the precise activity itself that gets repeated every day, I figure -- nah. It's the general category. So "laundry," which I despise, is translated into "caring for the family." Fair enough. I SHOULD be doing that every day, anyway. So far so good. "Cooking," since I enjoy it, translates as "cooking" -- no problem there. That today it's hoppin' john, skillet cornbread and greens* makes no never mind. We can have scalloped potatoes and ham tomorrow (and we WILL! on account of that big ol' hunk of ham still left in the refrigerator drawer! only part of which will get consumed in the hoppin' john!) -- it'll still just be "cooking."
Knitting projects -- gotta be careful there, though. I intend to start NO new projects today, as frankly, I have no problem starting new projects. I'll work, instead, on something I'm having trouble getting done -- oh, let's say, the dread "Queen Anne's Lace" fairisle. And I may just pick up some embroidery, too, since I've got a lot of unfinished projects lying around and I never embroider anymore on account of having gotten myself tangled up in a semi-knitting blog.
But don't think I'm going to be blogging every day this year, just cause you're hearing from me now. Alas, no. "Blogging," I think, translates to "computer time."
Right. Like there's a day I'm off the computer.
Might as well try to make sure I get some time in breathing.
As for the other main subject of the week -- Arthur C. Clarke, who's lived in Sri Lanka for decades now, survived the tsunami, along with his family, and provides, on his foundation's web page, several links to charities he considers useful, including some local ones. Google has posted various links for relief donations -- right under its search box, a nice touch -- and I'd add Catholic Relief Services.
I recently heard from one of my Finnish email correspondents** that the number of Finnish dead -- over 200 -- makes this the worst catastrophe in Finland since WWII. A very high percentage of the tourists in the area hit by the tsunami were from Scandinavia. Around 300 Swedes are known dead, with another 1,500 still unaccounted for. This has naturally made me concerned about my Norwegian cousins -- about 3,000 Norwegians were in the area at the time, and they haven't (naturally) all been accounted for yet, though from what I can tell Norway didn't get hit as hard. But since every year the Christmas cards I get from them all -- just got some a couple of weeks ago -- are full of the yearly intinerary, which involves what seems to be constant travel all over the world, I'm -- well, I'm concerned.
Sam says if anything had happened to them I'd have heard, but I'm not so sure. I figure that if anything happened to one of my second cousins I'd hear, but third cousins once removed? I dunno. And I hate to be calling Oslo and Mandal just to see if people are still breathing. Hey, Mom, you do it, ok? Cause you've got second cousins. That's Very Close. As opposed to third cousins, which is pretty much just Christmas card close.
Of course, I COULD call Norway -- what time is it over there? Ah, they're still up -- and then every day for the rest of the year I'd be spending lots of money on overseas calls.
Or, perhaps, just "keeping up with relatives."
_______________________________
*Ok, quick! From that list of New Year's Day foods, decide where this family is from! (Constant Readers, you're disqualified.)
**My blogging buddy Amber refers to such correspondents -- and other blogging buddies whom one has not met -- as "imaginary friends." I'm proud to be an imaginary friend. Once you meet an imaginary friend, though, they're no longer imaginary. They actually exist, in a whole nother piece of your mind. Also, I'm confused -- what if your imaginary friend sends you presents? Cause this happens. It's no longer cyberspace. It's solid reality. Must ponder.
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