Old photos

Eric found some ancient disposable cameras and took them to Reasor's, our neighborhood supermarket, to get them developed. Reasor's is okay -- at least we can buy soy milk and cage-free eggs there -- but I really miss the Davis Food Co-op and Nugget. Actually, the worst thing about Reasor's might be the other shoppers, or more accurately, what I see in their carts (i.e. gallons of soda, sides of beef, frozen sugar-, transfat-, and preservative-laden delights). Here are some fun photos of us from 2007!

Raley Field

Scharffen Berger factory

MJ in Savannah

Arctic Blast, RIP

The ARCTIC BLAST that has slammed the area for the past few weeks finally seems to be on its way out. It's in the 40s today, which feels almost warm after highs of 18. (ARCTIC BLAST needs to be in all caps because whenever we turn on the TV we are assailed by screaming and alarmist news of the ARCTIC BLAST.) Area schools were closed for an entire week when temperatures dipped into the teens (daytime highs) and single digits. Even growing up in Connecticut, I never heard of closing school due to cold weather. Still, the ARCTIC BLAST got old really fast, especially in our drafty house. Here's a photo of Snåsa looking out the ice-covered window, off which Eric would pry large chunks of ice in the morning. We have purchased a grand total of four blackout curtain panels to keep the heat in and the cold out. Much as he enjoys looking out the window, Snåsa prefers sunny spots. He now weighs more than four pounds, and he recently got a clean bill of health that ended his quarantine in the office. After some initial snarling, he and Malka are getting along tolerably well. She prefers that he leave her alone and he wishes that she would play with him, which sometimes results in Malka swiping at Snåsa and making Darth Vader-like noises. Then they both get tuckered out and nap together on the bed.

White Christmas

My first white Christmas in seven years reminded me what I have not been missing. Snow is pretty for about five minutes, then it's a hassle. Eric and I went for a walk down our unplowed street on Christmas morning and some dude in a big truck looked at us like we were from outer space. These days I am wearing two pairs of socks and a sweatshirt to bed. I can deal as long as we don't lose power -- we have heard some horror stories about ice storms causing outages lasting weeks. More snow is predicted for later this week. Luckily we don't need to go anywhere. I'm working at home on an article and spring syllabi. My new hobby is circling the spelling, grammar, and syntax errors in the Tulsa World, which makes me long for the journalistic integrity of the Sacramento Bee. A headline yesterday said "Leaders brag on Tulsans' giving" (brag on, not about?), while an entertainment article spelled the last name of the lead singer of the band Cake "McRae" (it's McCrea) and a photo caption spelled the word "exploded" with an A. Today's offense was botching the possessive of "children." My e-mail to one of the editors has not yet been answered.

Brown guys

When my brother and I were little he referred to gingerbread men as "brown guys." Eric and I made eight or nine dozen last Friday. We ate some and froze some, and I donated the rest to the holiday fundraiser for the local branch of the American Association for University Women. I also volunteered as a ticket taker at said fundraiser, a holiday tour of homes, on Sunday. Honestly, it weirds me out seeing so many grandparents in their 40s and 50s. The AAUW uses the money for a scholarship for a female graduate student, and I've recently been named the the chair of this year's scholarship committee. It would be really nice to see an M.A. student in English get the award this year -- I don't think that's happened in recent memory. Anyway, here are some photos of us making brown guys. Thanks to my mom's colleague Shelley for sharing her recipe. I tried to do fancy frosting with a pastry bag, but either the Betty Crocker bag I bought for $4 sucks or I suck at doing it (or both). I gave up on the bag and smeared royal icing on the guys. Spritz (a.k.a. "gun cookies" in my family, because you shoot them out of a cookie press) are next on the baking agenda, after, of course, I finish a big pile of grading, calculate final grades, and figure out how to turn them in using a horrific DOS-based program.

Haiku for "dead day" before final exams

No, you can't withdraw:
The deadline passed weeks ago;
TMI won't help.

Haiku for the last week of class

One of my students reports that a new film adaptation of The Handmaid's Tale is in the works, starring Natalie Portman as Offred. Can this be true? I have found no reports confirming it, and I have heard nothing about it from Atwood scholar extraordinaire Dr. Karma. And Natalie Portman...? Wasn't one bad movie version enough? I am miffed enough by her latest film, Brothers, with Jake Gyllenhaal and Tobey Maguire. This is an adaptation of an excellent 2004 Danish Film by Susanne Bier that is sure to be overwrought, overdone, overly sentimental, and basically farcockteh. (This is my a new favorite word; it's Yiddish, meaning all messed up. Eric and I heard it in the fabulous independent film Arranged and I had to call Bubbe Tulip to ask what it meant.)

Brothers: Phhhhhtt

Brodre: Two thumbs up

And now, a haiku for the last week of class:

So much attrition:
Classes have dwindled in size.
Less work for me, though.

Snåsa

Meet Snåsa, the homeless kitten Eric and I found and rescued the day before Thanksgiving. His name is Norwegian and pronounced SNOW-suh. We chose it expressly to make your life difficult. No, just kidding -- it's a place mentioned in one of our favorite movies,
Sweet Land, based on a short story by the contemporary U.S. regionalist writer Will Weaver. Snåsa was skinny little fleabag with ringworm, ear mites, and a tapeworm when we found him. He has since gotten some rest and put on some weight (as you can see in the photo below with the computer) and lost the fleas and tapeworm. The ear mites and ringworm are just about gone. He is one frisky little fuzzbutt. He thinks legs are for climbing, and he believes the cursor on the computer screen is alive and needs to be captured. We haven't introduced him to Malka yet because we want to make sure the fleas are gone and that Snåsa is FIV-negative first. However, they are well aware of one another's presence. Snåsa seems to be outgrowing the room he has been living in, and Malka regularly hisses outside his door. We hope they can get along, because it seems like Snåsa chose us to be his people. We've been trying to explain to Malka that she can still be the top cat, there is enough love for everyone, and we would have rescued her too if she had been sick and abandoned. In the meantime, Malka can enjoy her fame as the Tulsa World's pet of the week.