Another Perfect Sunday Afternoon

At the edge of my seat

Two excruciating games today--Zags v San Fran with the home team squeaking by with narrowly with a win...then the home home team Cougs, sigh, came very close to vanquishing the Huskies. If Klay had been on his shot it would have been a different outcome. Any given Saturday night. Senior night for the Cougs and we say goodbye to Nikolai. Go Cougs.

Surplus Stores

One of little things I love about working on a college campus is the surplus sales. The surplus storage area is a huge space filled with outdated computer components, athletic apparel, lab glassware, office chairs, bookcases, and all the other flotsam and jetsam you would expect to find at a public funded institution. It's dimly lit and has a concrete floor so it's like being in the biggest basement ever. My latest fishing trip resulted in my acquiring a mint green (think Martha Stewart) steelcase filing cabinet and a book on McCarthyism in America.

Moriage

One of the coolest things about selling on ebay is all the little tidbits of knowledge you pick up along the way. Tonight I am researching a pair of Nippon dresser pots. One of them is a hair receiver. They are funny little rounded jars with raised bumps that remind me of sea urchin shells. The finishing technique is moriagewhich is "a special type of raised decoration used on some Japanese pottery."

Howl At the Moon

We watched Wolfman-I wasn't too impressed, too much viscera, too little plot and character development. As yummy as Benicio Del Toro is--there was no reason for chickapea to fall so in love in with him that she would ride across the moor in a fetching fur collared riding habit in order to shoot him point blank with a silver bullet.

Sunday, Feb. 21st

I watched an interesting documentary called The River Cottage treatment on the Sundance channel this morning. It was set in England and it involved a group of people who went to a farm to learn where exactly their food came from. The people were all non cooks and relied on "ready" meals (TV dinners on this side of the pond.) They were taken on a tour of the slaughter house after having fed and tended the livestock for a few days. It was surprisingly difficult for me to watch. I'm not a vegetarian. When I was growing up our beef came straight from cattle raised by my rancher grandparents via the deep freeze wrapped in white butcher paper. There is a movement afoot of self sustainibility. I keep going back and back again to Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life (P.S.) book. It's interesting to me that in just generation or two how removed we've become from our food sources.