happy merry to all!

It’s Merry Chaos here in Princeton. Has a year gone by already? The weather is gorgeously warm, which is such a treat after the brutal winter storms and their aftermath that we've encountered at home and here on the East Coast. The sky is a beautiful blue color. And, my kids have each declared this to be the Best. Christmas. Ever! Surrounded by family, I couldn't agree more.

No matter where you are and what you believe, I hope that your day is filled with peace and glad tidings!

my son, the novelist

Short on my own original material today, I'm "publishing" a story that Simon wrote. He's been working on it for his writer's journal, dictating a portion each night this week. The writer in me is in awe because he so unselfconsciously told his story. I could see his wheels turning as he tried different plotlines, delighted with the possibilities inherent in creativity. I found it inspiring!

Simon did not give me permission to print this, but I'm so proud of him that I want to share. Besides, John, all puffed up with parental pride, has been sending it to friends. Earlier today, we had lunch with friend Steve, who said, "Hey, this sounds like a [Hollywood] treatment." So, Hollywood, if you're reading, you can contact his agent (me) via e-mail.

The New Invaders

Como-Tech is in Argentina. The scientists at Como-Tech build robots. Scientists start making little robots to be servants in people's houses. If a robber breaks into a house, the robots turn big, and scares them off.

But the scientists miscalculated and made the robots think that all humans were threatening them, so the robots attacked the humans.

Because the robots were destroying the planet, and most of its living beings, scientists started tests to make Mars into a planet that people could go to.

The scientists got a rock from Mars and put a seed in the rock and sent the rock back to Mars. As the plants grow and grow and grow, they eat carbon dioxide and give off oxygen.

Back in Argentina
The robots are starting their own civilization.

Back in Costa Rica
The scientists from Como-Tech [CT] flee to Costa Rica. The CT scientists need to continue their tests for making Mars a paradise like Earth. They need a new laboratory to do their tests at. They went to Costa Rica because their friends work at a laboratory there named Secret-Test [ST]. The CT scientists want to use their friends' laboratory. The scientists at Secret-Test are trying to make birds talk like parrots do. Because of the new danger they stop their work and help Como-Tech.

One of the CT scientists says that they need 100 gallons of water that can be dropped into a small valley on Mars and see if the white faced monkeys can swim and breath and live on Mars for 1 day.

One of the ST scientists asked “how are you going to do it?” CT scientist says, “We will need a rocket. Once it touches something, it blows up and the water comes spilling out.” One of the CT scientists says “Do you have a white faced monkey that is trained to go to outer space?” Then one of the ST scientists says, “yes”. Then one of the CT scientists says, “O.K. Let's get to work.” It takes them two days to make the rocket and one day to add all the details to it.

Back in Argentina
The robots are spreading around. When they see Como-Tech Laboratory they look around inside. Robot 708 spots small little robots and turned one on. The little robot got super angry because it thought the robot 708 was a robber. The little robot turned big and tried to scare 708.

Back in Costa Rica
CT scientists look at Mars from a conservatory. They see the plants and water but where is the monkey? Then they see a black blur running around. They look closer at the picture. The blur was the monkey. The CT scientists were successful.

The big rocket was done too. Then one of the scientists from Secret Test says “How will we get people's attention?” “We will send raffle tickets to the Galapagos Islands” answered one of the CT scientists, “and all of the people who get the raffle tickets will win and will come to Costa Rica. On the bottom of the raffle tickets it will say, 'When you see the biggest rock, turn West, and you will find a test base. There, you will find a rocket and bring some seeds of corn and some animals.'”

“We will start making some of the raffle tickets today” said one of the CT scientists.
“How many of them will we make?” asked one of the ST scientists.
“79.”

Back to the Robots.
The little robot was number 78. When he saw a person he thought it was evil and started attacking her. Now he was like the other big robots. Then they went to turn on more and more and more robots. The other little robots started walking around. The numbers of the robots that were just turned on were 87, 110, 900, 3000, 79, 56, 17, 43, and 700.

Back in Costa Rica
4 days later, the people who won the raffle tickets came with some crops and some animals. “Come to the rocket ship now, the robots might be swimming here already.” said a Pearl Kite, one of the tested birds. Only 60 of the 79 raffle ticket winners came.

They blasted off to Mars and safely landed. One of the farmers from the Galapagos Islands kept the monkey as a pet.

~ The End ?~

wiki wednesday

It's time for Wiki Wednesday!

1. Go to wikipedia.
2. Click on "random article" on the left-hand sidebar.
3. Post it.

I got my first article from the animal kingdom! The Chat is kind of cute, as far as birds go.

Cercomela is a genus of small passerine bird of the Old World flycatcher familychats. Muscicapidae. It comprises nine species of

Overview

These are typically birds of open dry habitats such as open scrub, stony or rocky areas and short grassland. The Familiar and Indian Chats are often found near human habitation.

This is a mainly African group, although the Blackstart’s range also extends just into the Middle East, and the Indian Chat is a south Asian species.

The typical Cercomela plumage is fairly plain grey or brown upperparts and paler underparts. The tail pattern is often distinctive, and may be useful in distinguishing the African species. The long legs and feet are black and the bill is short and straight. The sexes are similar in plumage.

These are terrestrial birds, most nesting on or near the ground, and laying up to four eggs in a cup nest; a few Cercomela species use rock crevices or walls as nest sites.

These birds are insectivores, and forage on the ground for their prey.

Most species have vocalisations including typical chat "chak-chak" or similar calls.

Most Cercomela chats are common within their ranges, but insufficient data exists to determine the status of the Sombre Chat in Ethiopia.

Species in taxonomic order

• Sickle-winged Chat, Cercomela sinuata
• Karoo Chat, Cercomela schlegelii
• Tractrac Chat, Cercomela tractrac
• Familiar Chat, Cercomela familiaris
• Brown-tailed Chat, Cercomela scotocerca
• Indian Chat, Cercomela fusca
• Sombre Chat, Cercomela dubia
• Blackstart, Cercomela melanura
• Moorland Chat, Cercomela sordida

out of juice

If you hadn't heard, we're experiencing an extreme cold snap in the Midwest. Some might say, "Get over it, it's Minnesota winter," but I beg to say that -11, independent of wind chill, is beyond winter. Temps like that are felt regularly only at the Poles.

Last night I had a long conversation with my friend Krista, who lives on an island in Washington state, in a cabin/cottage heated mostly by a wood-burning stove. Unlike Seattle, where Krista usually lives, Whidbey gets epic snowfalls that isolate homeowners, downing powerlines and freezing pipes, so she has needed to bring in water, flashlights and candles, and firewood. Just in case. At some point, Krista complained about the temperatures and about how she was so cold. Naturally, I inquired about how cold was cold, then offered the only natural response when she said, "28 degrees." I laughed like a crazy person. We'd all be wearing shorts if it was 28 degrees here.

It's so cold in Minnesota that my car wouldn't start this morning. And, yes, the car had been in the garage overnight. For half the day, I worried that the battery was dead, owing to someone (Winston) having left a door open. But truth is the cold was just too much for my nearly nine-year-old car to handle. Thank goodness we have another, more reliable, car 'cause nothing gives me a greater sense of panic than car problems.

Like my car, I'm out of juice. Most of my energy has been sapped just trying to stay warm. I try to remain optimistic, secure in the knowledge that in less that a week, I'll be in balmy New Jersey. Until then, the following may help:

~ a good night sleep
i.e., more than five hours
~ citrus
Have you tried this year's crop of sweet, juicy clementines from Spain yet?
~ holiday cheer
Over the next few days I plan to shelf job hunting for the year so that I might ring out the next few weeks with baking and general tinkering in the kitchen, writing holiday cards, and making resolutions.

You know, stuff that does the spirit good!

wiki wednesday

It's time for Wiki Wednesday!

1. Go to wikipedia.
2. Click on "random article" on the left-hand sidebar.
3. Post it.

If you are a foreign film buff, you may be interested in Cinema of Ukraine.

Cinema of Ukraine are motion-pictures created within the nation of Ukraine or by Ukrainian filmmakers abroad.

One of the largest film production studios in Ukraine is the Dovzhenko Film Studios, located in Kiev {Kyiv), Ukraine. Cinergia is a major Ukrainian film distributor; it is the local distributor of films by Warner Bros., New Line CinemaMiramax Films. and

Notable films

Main article: List of Ukrainian films

• 1926 Ягодка любви / Love's Berries, directed by Alexander Dovzhenko (silent film)
• 1928 Арсенал / Arsenal, directed by Alexander Dovzhenko (silent film)
• 1928 Звенигора / Zvenigora, directed by Alexander Dovzhenko (silent film)
• 1929 Человек с киноаппартом / Man with a Movie Camera, directed by Dziga Vertov (documentary film)
• 1930 Земля / Earth, directed by Alexander Dovzhenko (silent film)
• 1932 Иван / Ivan, directed by Alexander Dovzhenko (silent film)
• 1935 Аэроград / Aerograd, directed by Alexander Dovzhenko (sci-fi)
• 1936 Наталка Полтавка / Natalka Poltavka, directed by Ivan Kavaleridze
• 1939 Щорс / Shchors, directed by Alexander Dovzhenko (documentary film)
• 1964 Тіні забутих предків / Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, directed by Sergei Parajanov
• 1972 Білий птах з чорною ознакою / White Bird with Black Mark, directed by Yuriy Illyenko
• 1991 Голод-33 / Famine-33, directed by Oles Yanchuk
• 2003 Мамай / Mamay, directed by Oles Sanin
• 2005 Дрібний Дощ / Drizzle, directed by Heorhiy Deliyev
• 2006 Aurora (film), directed by Oksana Bairak

dear santa

A few nights ago, Winston composed a letter to Santa. It's pretty sweet.

You can see a sample of his writing here. Don't read it too closely, or you're apt to get a migraine. There is, for example, no punctuation, and he often writes his Bs as Ds. Scroll down for the translation.

Dear Santa,
I have been nice this year. If you want, I will be nicer. [N.B.: don't you love that?]

I have helped people and I have made everybody's days better. It's fun helping people.

I know that if I be a bad boy, I will get a bag of charcoal. But I am not going to get one this year. I am totally not going to this year. A mean kid would get it but I am not going to get one.

I am glad that you are here to think about the kins [sic]. I want a lot of toys. I like Santa.

Sincerely, from Winston

Since Winston wrote and wrote to fill an 8.5x11 sheet of paper with his letter, we bought him a notebook that he can use to journal. I think it's pretty funny that he got so caught up in writing the letter that he forgot to make his list.

I truly hope Winston gets what he wants from Santa this year!

or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down

After John and I put the boys to bed last night, we holed up in the den to watch TV, as we are wont to do after a full day. The den is one of the most amazing rooms in our house. For one, it's nearly 700 square feet, which makes it large enough to accommodate exercise equipment and a place for John to work on his bikes, as well as give us ample room for a sofa, two armchairs, and a large-screen TV. Two, its location is somewhat unique—essentially, the room is the basement of our three-car attached garage.

So, we were sitting in the den, minding our own business (probably watching a crime drama), when we heard banging and thumping. Initially I thought that one of the boys was up—Simon, in particular, is prone to insomnia, and just earlier this week sleepwalked—so I waited to hear the toilet flush or the pitter-patter of little feet as they rounded the corner into the den. Nothing. More banging and thumping, which now sounded insistent and close. John and I pried ourselves off the couch to investigate.

The noise became louder as we neared the entry door that separates the house and garage. My first thought was that we had an animal—a very large animal from the sounds of it—in the garage. John peered through the window in the door and could see, at the top of the garage stairway, the steel entry door (that leads from the outside into the garage) bowing and flexing like something out of Videodrome. Clearly someone was trying to break into the garage.

John yelled for the intruder to get away, then pulled on shoes and coat to investigate while I called the police. The entire time John was outside, I wished that he had a baseball bat or somesuch so he could defend himself if attacked. I realize that the intruder was probably a kid, most likely looking for a car stereo to steal. I whispered to myself, Please, take everything in our garage.

At least that's what I tell myself because, heaven forbid, he should be a serial killer, playing into my well-developed neurosis. Living with mid-sized children offers many opportunities for someone to enter our house because they never close or lock the doors. And it drives me crazy!!*

On the occasion that someone was actually trying to break into our house, however, I had locked the door. Earlier that day I had been thinking that it was about time I got into the habit of locking the door. And, of course, now I'll never leave it unlocked—even when we're at home.

John didn't see anyone outside. The police drove through our alley to serve as a warning.

And by the light of morning, on the door's exterior, the area around the lock is clearly damaged, while on the interior, the door is bowed around the lock. The near-intruder was very determined, though I'm glad to say that he was unsuccessful.


I'm still a little creeped out, especially as it feeds into my very active imagination, but I'm definitely feeling lucky that we were awake and scared off the near-intruder before s/he (equal opportunity) got into our garage or house.

*Mea culpa—I rarely lock the entry door between the garage and house because I'm always schlepping in groceries or piles of library books, and I will be the first to admit that it's easier to open the unlocked door than it is to set everything down and fumble for the key.

wiki wednesday

It's time for Wiki Wednesday!

1. Go to wikipedia.
2. Click on "random article" on the left-hand sidebar.
3. Post it.

These Argentinean hooligans make British hooligans look like Boys Scouts.

Los Borrachos del Tablon is the major hooligan group of the Club Atletico River Plate. They are considered the most violent and feared hooligan group in Argentina ^[1].

Their rule of terror in Argentina began in 1996, when in a fight against Independiente fans, they killed one of them, and injured two ^[2]. Later, in a summer game between River and Boca, they were able to break the hurdles dividing them from the Boca Juniors fans (La Doce), injuring many of them, and killing one ^[3]. The worst killing happened on Highway 9, when they killed two Newell's Old Boys fans, and injured hundreds ^[4]. Finally, when eliminated by Sao Paulo in the 2005 Copa Libertadores they beat up the police outside the stadium ^[5], and did the same when eliminated by Libertad in Paraguay, although this time inside the stadium ^[6] During the 2006 World Cup, Los Borrachos del Tablon were the representatives of the Argentine fans, and minor disturbances made the German police rebuke their entrance to the stadiums. After a falling out between the two leaders (Alan Schlenker and Adrian Rousseau), there have been serious fights between groups loyal to the different leaders. The most serious one occurred on February 11, 2007, in what has been dubbed "The Battle of the Mud Huts," since it happened on that recreational section of the Estadio Monumental Antonio Vespucio Liberti, and which caused Argentine courts to suspend the stadium for three games. On May 6, 2007, the two groups fought again, this time just outside the stadium, with two people suffering serious knife-wounds, and many others lesser injuries ^[7].

celebrating

Yes, I know Thanksgiving was almost a week ago, but we had such a good holiday, and I haven't quite gotten it out of my mind. Besides, people are still asking me, out of politeness and as an icebreaker, how my Thanksgiving was so I'm inclined to document it here.

We spent a wonderful day with Steve and Lisa, some of our oldest friends (as a couple, that is). John and Steve, who knew of each other at Mac, which is to say they recognized each other from classes or parties, became friends while hanging at Dunn's after they graduated. They were apartment mates when John and I started seeing each other, and I remember quite clearly when Steve met Lisa. Their two beautiful daughters and our boys, beginning with M (10), are each 18 months apart. Occasionally, I will have the girls over for an afternoon and fantasize about what it would have been like to have had four children, evenly space in age, perfect balance of girls and boys, all playing harmoniously. Friends are more likely than sibs to play harmoniously, a scientific fact I have known since I was eight years old and desparately wished that my best friend Ann was, instead, my sister. Actually, I wanted her parents to be my parents, too, but I digress. On a note about sibs, Steve has none and Lisa is the youngest of thirteen. Talk about having different families of origin.


We've spent many Thanksgivings with the Cohen-Murphys. And, though there are countless stories—like the year we grilled the turkey and it cooked so fast that we never had time to make the mashed potatoes, which was just as well since there weren't any pan drippings for gravy—suffice to say, Steve and Lisa helped us celebrate the first Thanksgiving in our first house so there's always a special place for them on our Thanksgiving dance card.

This year our hosts roasted an organic, free-range turkey from northern Minnesota, and served mashed potatoes, comforting sweet potatoes (simply roasted with onions, olive oil, salt and pepper), and green beans and Brussels sprouts tossed with bacon. John and I contributed Southern Cornbread Dressing from the 1957 Columbus (GA) Junior League Cookbook (my mother in law's recipe) and my Grandma Hattie's pumpkin pie (we boosted the spices by adding cinnamon, nutmeg, and dried orange peel to the recipe's allspice and healthy teaspoon of ginger), which was truly awesome even though I forgot to bring the whipped cream. Everyone would tell me that the pie didn't need whipped cream, but I wanted whipped cream and now I have to eat the whipped cream without pie. Oh well—there are worse things in life.


We arrived before noon. I have no idea what time we ate or what time we pushed away from the table, but I know we put our feet up and drank digestives (scotch and Irish whiskey, with the Glens widely represented, you know, Glenfidditch, Glenlivet, Ethelglen...yes, I made up the last one but I think it would taste bold and peaty, if not a little harsh) until nine or ten p.m. For almost four hours I was aware of the day having been long, but we were so comfortable. I would have accepted a bed had it been offered.

I like to think of the entire four-day weekend as Thanksgiving. We celebrated our good fortunes—our health, a roof over our head, and much more. We relaxed, slept, rested up for the push to Christmas, read, cooked, and finished a major school project. Winston got a much-needed, but seriously botched, hair cut. We took the boys out for Chinese and used-book browsing at Sixth Chamber. We had a bagel and lox brunch, replete with mimosas, with another family on Sunday, and unloaded on them a disassembled armoire that had been taking up precious space in our garage. All in all, a very successful, celebratory weekend.

Bring on Christmas and all the fixings!