Monday, June 29, 2015
Then Again...
Rejoice in the Constitution!
Monday, June 22, 2015
Earth
My first watch through of Earth came during college when my one of my best friends, Crane, got the full DVD series. And then showed it in our common area every night for a few weeks. It was glorious to watch en masse, with many of us poking fun at animals we saw on screen or more often staring entranced by the beauty of the scenery before us and the incomparable calm of David Attenborough's melodious voice.
Nature documentaries have become a staple of my life since taking up as a nanny. Both children love animals and the natural world and with non-educational screen time restricted by parents, both the kids enjoy watching nature documentaries. I'll admit I enjoy them a lot more than many of the alternatives they could choose (both educational and non-educational) so I tend to encourage this habit. But I have learned something interesting from watching all these shows about nature with so many different audiences (Crane is a biologist, Raven an anthropologist, and my kids are just kids). There are some things we all hold in common in the face of the natural world and they aren't the things I expected. I expected cute animals would make basically everyone coo and that the 7-year-old with a soft spot for her cats wouldn't like animals like sharks or wolves that preyed on seals or bears, respectively. Turns out I underestimated her. She understood and accepted the cycle of life far better than I did in some cases (it's hard to watch an adorable bear cub get attacked!) I also figured that younger kids would get more entertainment out of the animal portions and less out of the sweeping vistas and glorious panoramic shots of the scenery, Wrong again. A common thread I have seen with anyone watching a video like Earth is the appreciation of the world's beauty. A great snow-swept landscape is beautiful at 6 or 106.
I hope the kids I watch don't lose their wonder at the world they live in. I hope I can hold onto mine. I am so glad Raven shares that wonder with me. And that she will help me nurture and hold that wonder by reminding me that sometimes I need to immerse myself in reality when I tune out the world.
Good night all.
~Owl
Friday, June 19, 2015
Raven is Reading: looking for alaska, Mort, The Carpet People
Since I did a review of the shows Owl and I were watching a few months ago in the post "Rivendell is Watching..." I thought it would be interesting to do an occasional update for what we, or at least I, am reading, as well. If nothing else, it will help make me aware of how much, or little, I am actually reading, so that I can remind myself to devote more time to it.
I'm almost always reading at least two books simultaneously, often many more. I guess I just like to have options for what I read, depending on what mood I'm in, or what interests me in the moment.
So, here's what I'm reading currently:
looking for alaska
John Green
I still have yet to decide whether or not I actually like looking for alaska. I still have about fifty pages left, and I have enjoyed reading it, but that isn't necessarily the same as liking it. I certainly respect John Green immensely, both for his writing and for his videos, and he's done something that almost nobody else has been able to do, which is getting me to read books that center heavily on teenage angst and romance, so that's already a great credit to him. looking for alaska just isn't clicking with me the way I expected it to, and that's okay. It certainly has captured my attention, and is absolutely thought-provoking. For those who don't know, looking for alaska centers around Miles "Pudge" Halter as he experiences his first year at Culver Creek boarding school----a setting very much based on John Green's own experience with boarding school in Alabama. He is instantly drawn to Alaska Young, though I will admit this: I cannot fathom why. I find Alaska wholly unlikable. But this is redeemed by a strong and memorable cast of supporting characters that are clever, funny, and incredibly enjoyable to read, which more than makes up for my distaste for Alaska (and Miles, when it comes down to it.) The book's most notable feature is that it centers around a clear turning point. The nature of this turning point is only made clear when it happens, but the entire book is framed in two sections, before and after, with each subsection consisting of a day during Miles' first year at Culver Creek. The days are either formatted as "xxxx days before" or "xxxx days after" and it certainly added an element of suspense to the story, even if the turning point itself wasn't much of a surprise for me.
Mort
Sir Terry Pratchett
I started rereading Mort about two weeks ago. The Sunday before last, I managed, in an act of true stupidity, to injure my head, enough for it to bleed quite a bit but not enough to be concussed. The details involved a very ill-placed cavalry sword in a heavy steel sabre we were given as a gift last Christmas, a wobbly bookshelf, and me re-shelving some comics. Perhaps you can guess the details. Suffice it to say, head wounds hurt, swords don't go on high places if they're unsecured, and Owl is a trooper for, once again, tending to my bleeding war wounds.
After the blood had been sopped up, I sat on the futon in our spare room with an ice pack to my head, and Owl brought me in a book. She knows that I like to read familiar books when I'm upset, sick, or in pain, and she also knows that there's not much in the world I enjoy reading more than a good Pratchett book. (Good, in my mind, means all of them, by the by.) Without asking, she brought me one of my very favorites, and since then I have been reading it slowly, savoring it, allowing myself the luxury of returning to an old, beloved friend even though I have resolved to spend more time reading new books and less time rereading old ones.
Mort was the fourth Discworld novel to be published, in 1987. Pratchett's Discworld books are often broken up into "mini-series", based on which group or entity they focus on, and Mort is the first book in the Death "miniseries". Though Death appears in all but one of the Discworld books, Mort is the first book to focus on him, and in Mort, he takes on an apprentice...fittingly named Mort. Mort, to me, is a prime example of what character development should look like. At the beginning, he is a somewhat simple country boy with little going for him, but when he his apprenticed by Death he begins to change, gradually but ultimately drastically, until he can stand up to Death himself. One of my favorite books, I always enjoy reading Mort, and I find myself cherishing every reading of a Pratchett novel all the more in his passing.
Which is why it shouldn't surprise anybody that the third book on my list is...
The Carpet People
Sir Terry Pratchett
The Carpet People was Pratchett's first novel. I started reading it quite a while back (I first mention it here, when, just days after Pratchett's death, I am stunned into silence by a simple memorial to him in the form of a Barnes and Noble endcap honoring his legacy) but was interrupted several times due to various instance of Real Life getting in the way, and have not made much progress. As I am not very far along in it, I won't say much, but I will say that it is as clever and as witty as I have come to expect from Pratchett, and that if my first book could be a slim fraction as enjoyable as his was, I should be so lucky.
I am also making my way though The Runaways, which I talk about here, and Pandemonium and Parade, which I talk about here.
In closing, I am, for reasons that will soon be apparent, looking to make a number of relatively quick posts (but still interesting and informative) in a very short period of time. Do you have any queries I can answer? Lists you would like to see? Pressing questions about archaeology, video games, or Battlestar Galactica? List them in the comments and maybe I'll make a post on them! It might be a Reader's Digest version, or, if I really like your question or if it sparks a much more detailed post, it may be saved for later to get a nice long post of its own!
That's all for now,
Raven
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Domestic Terrorism
Seems like I've been posting about a lot of depressing things on here. And I apologize for that, but I can't not do it today. Today 9 people were killed in Charleston South Carolina at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church. It was a hate crime motivated by what can only be described as intense racial hatred and deep racism. I know most people out there will agree with that statement, but I have to say it because there are still some who aren't talking about it (read: commentators and guests on Fox News).
I'm not going to go into much more on the subject except to say that it's too early to jump to most any conclusions. But I think we can safely make a few tiny steps. The shooting took place at Emanuel AME Church, which has been a part of Charleston since the early 1800s. It was founded as a black church, has been persecuted as a black church, and remains a black congregation today. The church pastor was Rev. Clementa Pinckney, a member of the South Carolina State Senate since the age of 27. He was also among the victims last night. Along with 8 members of his congregation. All black. I can't stress enough how unlikely it would be for Dylann Roof, the alleged terrorist*, who sported a jacket with the flag of apartheid era South Africa and Rhodesia (modern Zimbabwe) and drove a car with confederate plates, chose the place on a whim. Or because it was the first church he stumbled upon. It is a tiny step to declaring this a hate crime, motivated by race.
Raven and I have been talking about this a lot today and one of the points I wanted to share is this: race has become a topic of national conversation again in part because of the shooting of unarmed black men by police officers or community members. This attack will, I'm sure, fuel the conversation further. But events like these are not new. Our country has a history of racial violence and oppression. Our country has a history of illegally repressing or flat out silencing the voices and even lives of its black citizens. That repression has come through legitimate channels, like government and law enforcement as recently as the 1960s. We, as a country, have made poor decisions, taken morally indefensible actions, and acted as oppressors more often than liberators during our 200+ year history as a sovereign nation. It is not a legacy I am proud to live with. It is not a legacy I am proud to call myself a part of. Yet I benefit from it because I am white. We will never get anywhere in this nationwide discussion without more people understanding that very basic, but very difficult piece of our collective history. That is the narrative in which this shooting took place. That is the narrative in which the media needs to place it. Anything less is half truth.
I hope world events will give me something pleasant to post on tomorrow. I urge anyone interested to read the Washington Post article I linked to earlier (linked again here) to get a great overview of the place of AME in the broader civil rights movement.
As an apology for this very depressing post - and a reward for making it through (if you made it this far) here is a link to an hour of cat videos. Watch it until you feel joy again.
*I use alleged because he hasn't yet been convicted, not because I doubt that he is guilty - seems pretty clear he is at this point, but still... technically not guilty until convicted
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Well hello there
Monday, June 15, 2015
Insomnia
I think by now we can dismiss all pretenses that this is in any way a daily blog. On the bright side, I've had three separate people prod Owl and I about updating, which at least means that we have followers! Well, three of them at any rate.
Instead of another tired apology for a long blogging dry spell, I'm going to talk about an issue that is near and dear to my heart.
Okay, so it's one of those things.
I've spoken a bit about Mystery Illness, but I haven't spent quite as much time addressing an issue that has plagued me for pretty much as far back as I can recall. With my clever and subtle title, I'm sure you're all chomping at the bit to find out whatever that could be.
I remember struggling with sleeping through the night, and with getting to sleep, as far back as elementary school. It wasn't dire, then, barring one memorable incident when I was in third or fourth grade where I was told a scary story at a Girl Scouts sleepover that haunted me so badly that I couldn't fall asleep without somebody else in the room. I don't remember how long this lasted---in all liklihood it was only a week or so, but to my tired, traumatized little brain it seemed like an eternity. I distinctly recall sitting in my classroom trying to attend to the teacher explaining long division to us, my eyes dry and scratchy, eyelids drooping, resisting the urge to lay my head down on my desk, and thinking that this feeling, this terrible, dull ache in the back of my skull, the fuzziness between my eyes, and the gnawing horror both from the lingering effects of that one damn story and from the creeping panic that sets in after two or three nights of restless agony, this feeling was going to last forever.
That was one isolated incident in my childhood, but it has etched itself in my brain in a way that only the most vivid struggles of an otherwise unburdened youth can---deeply and with much embellishment. Had I known that day in the classroom that I had only just gotten a small taste of what would become my future relationship with insomnia, I think tiny nine-year-old me would have broken down in tears. (Granted, we were studying long division, so tears may have been an inevitable part of the equation.)
At some point in middle school I was informed that a healthy human required, on average, eight hours of sleep to function properly. By that point my sleep issues were bad enough that eight seemed rather high, but not outside the realm of believability. By late high school and early college however, eight hours of sleep a night seemed like an utterly alien concept, a luxury that I could not imagine anybody ever being lucky enough to afford. The incident above was the only point in my life that my insomnia has been assosiated with a clear external cause, barring the occasional post-horror movie restlessness or the pre-exam stress-induced sleeplessness. Normally, though, it's just...there. This constant, inexplicable barrier that nothing I do can overcome. Some things make it better, of course, sometimes, but so far, there's no reliable fix, no instant cure, nothing I can depend on to secure those eight (or so) hours of recharging we all need to be as awesome as we can be.
Let me be perfectly clear here: Insomnia sucks. It's draining, nerve-wrecking, and seeps into areas of your life that you'd never expect. Try showing up for an 8am class or a job that starts at 7 when you haven't slept for the past two days straight. (Don't actually try this at home, kids.) You know that feeling you get when you've been sitting at your desk for too long and your back and neck ache? With insomnia, everything aches. Constantly. It can make you sick to your stomach, light headed, and irritable. It can ruin your appetite---some people gain weight, some people lose it, some people do both, fluctuating between the two like their internal mechanisms have gone entirely haywire, because that's essentially what they're doing.
If you don't have trouble getting to sleep or staying asleep, count your blessings (as well as your sheep, of course). It feels not unlike what I imagine slowly going mad might feel like, once you've gone long enough without proper rest. At times, it can be not just inconvenient and exhausting, but terrifying. For me, there's still sometimes this irrational, annoying, tiny Raven in the back of my head that chimes in, just around the time dawn is breaking, after twenty- or thirty-odd hours of sleeplessness, with the suggestion that maybe, juuuuust maybe, I would never sleep again. That tiny voice in my head is a real bastard, but when you're staring at your ceiling listening to a cacophony of robins right outside your window, even that seems plausible.
I've been trying, however, not to dwell too much on the negatives, however. So, let me say this as well.
Recently I've come to understand a curious phenomenon : when something becomes a constant, pervasive force in your life, you tend to develop a relationship with it. Whehter it is a good force or a bad force, it is an important enough influence in your life that it takes on a life of its own. To a degree this has happened to me with Mystery Illness, and it has certainly happened with insomnia. And as with all relationships, we either have to find a way to tolerate them, or cut them out of my life. Unlike other relationships, however, insomnia isn't like a jealous ex or a petty coworker. You can't just walk away from it. You have to find a way to tolerate it.
Right now, my insomnia and I have a working relationship. It is not a good relationship. It's the sort of relationship that has our friends shaking their heads and warning us away from one another, as though we could do anything to resist. It's like insomnia and I are two people stuck on a deserted island. There's no sign of rescue, so we've got to buckle down and work together, or at least around one another, to survive until help comes. (Help, in this case, is sleep. Was that metaphor not clear enough? Maybe a Lost analogy will make the deserted island metaphor better: Insomnia is Jack, and I'm Locke. Or possibly Sawyer, depending on how irritable I'm feeling.) It may not be a good relationship, but right now we have an understanding. Insomnia insists its here to stay, and since it doesn't seem to be budging on this issue, I've decided to put down my foot. If it's going to crash in my house, it's playing by my rules. Just because I'm not sleeping doesn't mean I can't be productive. Do you have any idea the number of things you can get done in the middle of the night? I can reorganize my notebooks and pens without Owl looking at me funny! I can catch up on Netflix shows I'm too busy to watch normally.
Honestly, I'm more productive when I can't sleep. A night owl by nature, I do some of my best writing in the wee hours. I read more. I draw. I paint. The number of times I've dedicated several hours in the middle of the night to troubleshooting problems with my tablet or my PC is astonishing. Just a few hours ago I solved an issue between my tablet, an app I reaaaaaally wanted to play (guys go check out Plague Inc!) and Google Play that has been bothering me all week. Lately, I've been awake to greet the dawn. Sunrise is a time of day that I adore, but generally speaking I only see it from the wrong way round. But this week, I've been making the most of it. I've been compiling to-do lists. I've been tidying. I've started heading down to the bakery/cafe down the street when they open at 6. I grab two cups of coffee and some pastries, and bring them back home so that they're there for Owl and I when it approaches normal-people hours. Then I take my notebook and head down to the pier right behind our apartment. I love sitting on the benches and the rocks and looking out at the expanse of lake before me. I can see the downtown area and the university from the pier and the capitol building wreathed in fog is an image I will never grow tired of. I would probably rather be well-rested, but as a second choice, being constantly overwhelmed by the beauty of the city that I live in and the immense fortune and joy I have in my life is not the worst option.
Basically, this is a very long-winded explaination as to why I started this blog post at four in the morning. The bakery is open now, so I'm going to go fetch us some breakfast and take a walk down to the lake. Later today we will have the delightful rhubarb and strawberry pie we made last night, and we're making somem delicious homemade iced tea to go with it! We're planning to spend much of the day cooking and baking. We went to the Farmers' Market on Saturday, so we've got garlic bulbs and scapes that we're going to turn into a delightful compound butter along with sage from our freshly potted sage plant! We're also going to figure out what to do with the rest of our rhubarb, and do some meal planning and prepping for this week. It's going to be a pretty great day, so the fact that I got to be up for all of it is a good thing, right?
...right?
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Thank God for June
Basically everything forever happens in May, at least on my calendar. For instance, Owl, my mother, and one of my best friends all have May birthdays. Both my parents and Owl and I have anniversaries in May, theirs for their wedding, ours for our (somewhat less impressive) first date. Mother's Day happens. Memorial Day happens. If you're as huge a nerd as I am, May is a big time for that as well, as May 4th is Star Wars Day (May the Fourth be with us all) and May 25th is Geek Pride Day (a.k.a. Towel Day in honor of Douglas Adams, but it also marks the anniversary of the Glorious Revolution of the Twenty-Fifth of May, and the 1977 release of Star Wars).
This May we also celebrated with my cousin at her baby shower, and with two of our good college friends on the occasion of their wedding. This last event was especially exciting, and was also the main source of my exhaustion the past few days. The wedding itself was last week, and was an absolutely beautiful affair. I couldn't be happier for the beautiful couple. The occasion was especially exciting since it meant that a gaggle of college friends flew in, and we ended up having a number of folks sleeping on our couches and futon. This includes Crow, our old roommate who abandoned us forever, except not really! It was wonderful to see him for the weekend, and he got to crash in his old room, which looks exactly the same except almost everything is different. As much as we love having a new media room/guest room/office/insomnia hideaway, I think both Owl and I would much rather it still belong to Crow, and it was hard to see him leave again yesterday.
Oh, and I also was the lucky recipient of not one, not two, not three, but five doctors visits/exams/sharp needle poking experiences in the past week. It was super fun, only exactly the opposite of that. Actually, it wasn't horrendous, but that is still many more sterile white offices than I want to see in the span of seven days.
On top of that, classes ended, I turned in final papers, I was hired on for another project, and all sorts of exciting, fun, and occasionally stressful things happened.
So, May really is a fun and exciting month for me, but perhaps now you can see why I am a bit tired, and why the blog has been awfully quiet of late.
If all goes well, we will resume regular posts this week, but I don't want to make promises that I may very well break! With any luck, though, you'll see me again on Thursday.
Ta, lovelies.
-Raven the Sleepy