::laughs:: That title is courtesy of Joe's pastor, trying to tell us young'uns (anyone still considered financially-dependent) to enjoy our youth and low responsibility levels while we have them.
Which is to say, Joe is back in town for the weekend, and Andrea's with him, and they took me to church and lunch this morning, for which I am super-happy.
Joe's church is the most like Pearce, from home, that I've yet seen: lots of people of different age levels, big sanctuary set up very similarly, lots of youth groups by age level. People-wise, however, it is pentecostal, though not to the degree that Lighthouse, in Alfred, is. (I mentioned this to Joe, who sounded a little surprised, as though it hadn't really occurred to him that they were charismatic at all.) Everybody was very friendly--I got to meet his friend Rachel, an English major (haha, as Albert's like, "Whoa!"), and three guys with whom he'd been on a missions trip.
I mean, Joe and Andrea and I do talk about secular things, of course, and we did a little of that, but mostly we talked about faith-related things over lunch...a lot about the two years in high school where Rachel explained Christianity to Joe, and what that was like; how the three of us all came into InterVarsity; oh, lots of things. It was really nice.
No plans for tonight on my end (Joe and Andrea are doing stuff with Joe's neighbors, or friends, or whatever...if you're still up for something, Aneya, call).
Sparkette is eating again, though still thin. I wonder what's going on.
-Laurel
12.29.2006
Update on the previous
Oh, ruddy crap on a cracker.
Apparently, though of course the webpages all say "this could be possible even without these symptoms, or it could be something else, nobody really has any idea," it could be fish tuberculosis. My fish did actually show some of the symptoms, which is startling.
And humans can apparently catch it, if they get their hands in the tank.
Okay, then!
-Laurel
Apparently, though of course the webpages all say "this could be possible even without these symptoms, or it could be something else, nobody really has any idea," it could be fish tuberculosis. My fish did actually show some of the symptoms, which is startling.
And humans can apparently catch it, if they get their hands in the tank.
Okay, then!
-Laurel
Another potentially-boring-and-morbid hobbyist post
I cannot figure out what has gone on with the three original guppies. Jemima thinned out and died, Maria unexpectedly followed suit within ten days, and I'm starting to think that Sparkette's next. After Maria's death I watched her for the same signs, but she went at food as energetically as ever, which the other two did not, just before their untimely demises. But suddenly I looked at her tonight and realized that she's thinned out anyway, in spite of accidental overfeeding and the elimination of the offending shrimp. She's sort of listless, has spent a lot of time since Maria's death in the same corner of the tank where I found both other guppies dead, swimming up and down (I wouldn't mention this, but she's never done it before), and when I dropped a food flake into the tank experimentally, she went at it with all her usual energy, but didn't devour it as she always has; sort of just nipped at it twice and swam away. These are bad signs. I think I'm going to lose her, for I have no idea what the problem could be, and therefore can't fix it. The other fish are fine; the cherry barbs are as jovial and hungry as ever.
It isn't even lack of companionship, not that I expect fish to die of grief, for Lila has brightened everything up. She's another female guppy; I bought her yesterday (fish are cheap, for those of you wondering about my frequent acquisitions) and gave her the name as a shortened version of "Little Lady," which I absently called her as we were driving home. It seemed a nice, gentle name for a small, gracefully-colored fish. But Lila, if I read things right, is perhaps the happiest fish I've ever had, or at least the friendliest since the unlucky Fflewddur. She seems to want to play with everything and everyone, and has even had the sedate Brett (who used to chase Mary quite happily until I brought home Davy and Sandra, whereupon the barbs became a trio, and Brett was left rather in the cold) swimming around for all he's worth. I like her very much.
So I don't know. It's a mystery, and I pity poor Sparkette; I wish I knew how to help.
-Laurel
It isn't even lack of companionship, not that I expect fish to die of grief, for Lila has brightened everything up. She's another female guppy; I bought her yesterday (fish are cheap, for those of you wondering about my frequent acquisitions) and gave her the name as a shortened version of "Little Lady," which I absently called her as we were driving home. It seemed a nice, gentle name for a small, gracefully-colored fish. But Lila, if I read things right, is perhaps the happiest fish I've ever had, or at least the friendliest since the unlucky Fflewddur. She seems to want to play with everything and everyone, and has even had the sedate Brett (who used to chase Mary quite happily until I brought home Davy and Sandra, whereupon the barbs became a trio, and Brett was left rather in the cold) swimming around for all he's worth. I like her very much.
So I don't know. It's a mystery, and I pity poor Sparkette; I wish I knew how to help.
-Laurel
Jumping on Chelsea's bandwagon
 | My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Very Lady Laurel the Random of Withering by the Wold Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title |
Niiiiiice.
-Laurel
12.27.2006
Your English-geek humor for the day
http://www.savagechickens.com/blog/2006/11/grocery-store.html
Christmas was nice. The family got together and ate dinner and sang Christmas songs. Also, I got an iPod. And March of the Penguins on DVD.
Not much to say, except that another of the guppies (Maria) died, and it may actually have been my fault this time (uh-oh). I've decided that, even if TetraMin does put them out, dried baby shrimp should be fed to bigger fish than mine are. I think a shrimp-shell-induced blockage/injury (can't figure out which) got her. Sparkette, at least, is the picture of health, to what degree being perpetually ravenous is healthy.
The rest of the fish are well, as is the shrimp. I watched Hoover, my plec, clean some algae off the side of the tank today. It was pretty cool. Clearly, I need more of a life. Or, rather, to be more diligent about the life I have; I am behind on the Newberys, and should get that grad-school application in.
-Laurel
Christmas was nice. The family got together and ate dinner and sang Christmas songs. Also, I got an iPod. And March of the Penguins on DVD.
Not much to say, except that another of the guppies (Maria) died, and it may actually have been my fault this time (uh-oh). I've decided that, even if TetraMin does put them out, dried baby shrimp should be fed to bigger fish than mine are. I think a shrimp-shell-induced blockage/injury (can't figure out which) got her. Sparkette, at least, is the picture of health, to what degree being perpetually ravenous is healthy.
The rest of the fish are well, as is the shrimp. I watched Hoover, my plec, clean some algae off the side of the tank today. It was pretty cool. Clearly, I need more of a life. Or, rather, to be more diligent about the life I have; I am behind on the Newberys, and should get that grad-school application in.
-Laurel
12.24.2006
Christmas in the 'Cuse
"A Christmas Hymn," Richard Wilbur
And some of the Pharisees from among the multitude said unto him,
Master, rebuke thy disciples.
And he answered and said unto them, I tell you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out.
-St. Luke XIX, 39-40
A stable-lamp is lighted
Whose glow shall wake the sky;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
And straw like gold shall shine;
A barn shall harbor heaven,
A stall become a shrine.
This child through David's city
Shall ride in triumph by;
The palm shall strew its branches,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
Though heavy, dull, and dumb,
And lie within the roadway
To pave his kingdom come.
Yet he shall be forsaken,
And yielded up to die;
The sky shall groan and darken,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry
For stony hearts of men:
God's blood upon the spearhead,
God's love refused again.
But now, as at the ending,
The low is lifted high;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry
In praises of the child
By whose descent among us
The worlds are reconciled.
First Christmas in the new house. It hasn't been a particularly Christmasy-feeling month, 'cause of the lack of snow (though I'm not complaining about the air's warmth), but I found this poem today pretty much by accident as I was flipping through my Richard Wilbur book from Recent American. And Anna got a hold of me today, too. She's doing well at the new school, has a new boyfriend (went out to California with him for a few days, I guess!); it was nice to catch up a bit. So two Christmasy things have happened already.
It's maybe an odd annual tradition, when you think about it, to list all one's new friends (not always close friends, but people to whom I feel more warmth than for an acquaintence), but it does give me a chance to wish everyone well and be happy I know them better now than I did last year.
Merry Christmas, then, to Tim (the A-State one), Maggie, Aaron, Andrea, Laura, Josh, Matt-from-Bible-study, Sophie, Leah, Jeanne, Sarah (of the walnut allergy!), Shannon, Sean, Devin (English major), Ted, Lauren, Jamie (karate), Zac (not Zack), Jeff, Terese, Crystal, Dani and folkdance/IV-Anna and Jess (whom I put together because they all should've gotten this wish last year), Laniece, AK, Liz Lawton, Dr. Strong, every darling one of the FYE freshmen (but perhaps Jessie and Humberto, for their particular kindness, deserve special note), and the crew from Syracuse International Folk Dancing (especially Carman, Jan, and the awesome lady whose name I always forget, as I'm doing now). A slightly-belated happy Chanukah to Haley, too. It's been another big year, from Text & Image to Basileia to FYE, and everything in between, for meeting great people.
The fourth-annual merry-Christmas wish to Samweli, Sunil, and the soldiers. Danos la paz.
And a merry Christmas to all of you, my friends and best-beloveds. Here's to the coming start of a new year; I think maybe it'll be the best one in a while, what d'you think?
-Laurel
And some of the Pharisees from among the multitude said unto him,
Master, rebuke thy disciples.
And he answered and said unto them, I tell you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out.
-St. Luke XIX, 39-40
A stable-lamp is lighted
Whose glow shall wake the sky;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
And straw like gold shall shine;
A barn shall harbor heaven,
A stall become a shrine.
This child through David's city
Shall ride in triumph by;
The palm shall strew its branches,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
Though heavy, dull, and dumb,
And lie within the roadway
To pave his kingdom come.
Yet he shall be forsaken,
And yielded up to die;
The sky shall groan and darken,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry
For stony hearts of men:
God's blood upon the spearhead,
God's love refused again.
But now, as at the ending,
The low is lifted high;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry
In praises of the child
By whose descent among us
The worlds are reconciled.
First Christmas in the new house. It hasn't been a particularly Christmasy-feeling month, 'cause of the lack of snow (though I'm not complaining about the air's warmth), but I found this poem today pretty much by accident as I was flipping through my Richard Wilbur book from Recent American. And Anna got a hold of me today, too. She's doing well at the new school, has a new boyfriend (went out to California with him for a few days, I guess!); it was nice to catch up a bit. So two Christmasy things have happened already.
It's maybe an odd annual tradition, when you think about it, to list all one's new friends (not always close friends, but people to whom I feel more warmth than for an acquaintence), but it does give me a chance to wish everyone well and be happy I know them better now than I did last year.
Merry Christmas, then, to Tim (the A-State one), Maggie, Aaron, Andrea, Laura, Josh, Matt-from-Bible-study, Sophie, Leah, Jeanne, Sarah (of the walnut allergy!), Shannon, Sean, Devin (English major), Ted, Lauren, Jamie (karate), Zac (not Zack), Jeff, Terese, Crystal, Dani and folkdance/IV-Anna and Jess (whom I put together because they all should've gotten this wish last year), Laniece, AK, Liz Lawton, Dr. Strong, every darling one of the FYE freshmen (but perhaps Jessie and Humberto, for their particular kindness, deserve special note), and the crew from Syracuse International Folk Dancing (especially Carman, Jan, and the awesome lady whose name I always forget, as I'm doing now). A slightly-belated happy Chanukah to Haley, too. It's been another big year, from Text & Image to Basileia to FYE, and everything in between, for meeting great people.
The fourth-annual merry-Christmas wish to Samweli, Sunil, and the soldiers. Danos la paz.
And a merry Christmas to all of you, my friends and best-beloveds. Here's to the coming start of a new year; I think maybe it'll be the best one in a while, what d'you think?
-Laurel
12.20.2006
Devotional time
This, besides being about a master's-degree program(!), put things in perspective for me this morning. Joe and I have agreed, in our late-night AIM conversations, that perfectionism is pretty much not worth it, though it's not like we exactly plan to start trying for C's (after all, we're supposed to do our best; it's the lack of contentment therewith that creates problems). We were mostly talking about general life anyway. I think it's especially, for me, that I'm quick to blame myself for not having changed already, instead of focusing on the idea that if I'm supposed to be different, I will learn how to be if only I have the sincerity.
So much, I've learned this year, is about sincerity.
Another thought: go look at Luke 17:5-6. It occurred to me, since I've also wondered recently how to get "more" faith, that the disciples didn't really get a direct answer to their question, which I guess I'd missed because I hadn't isolated those two verses; I'd been looking at the whole chapter. The only thing I can come up with is that maybe Jesus is saying that they need faith, period. That you have it or you don't. Another translation, paraphrasal though The Message often is, seems to interpret it like that, too.
So is it that most people just don't have any, or that they're not putting it to use, or--? I feel like I should have learned this by now. Maybe I did once.
On another note, I'm taking Chris Rice's blog off my side-column (since it hasn't been updated since about April, and I've more or less given up on it) and subbing in Leroy Sievers's, which I mentioned probably back around October. He's the journalist who's chronicling having cancer, and it's certainly thought-provoking, if sort of morbid a topic. I finally caught up to the present last night (had to read a few months' worth of back-entries) and figure I'd better start following it regularly now.
'kay, off to do responsible things, such as working on my grad apps, going to the post office, and cleaning my fishtank. I know the tank just came home, but the moving process brought up a lot of crud that'd been trapped under lots of gravel. I'd been wondering how to deal with it (figured this involved actually learning how to use that...oh, what's it called? It's sort of like a pump, but not. Whatever), but vacation largely solved that for me. The filter's icky now, and should be cleaned.
-Laurel
So much, I've learned this year, is about sincerity.
Another thought: go look at Luke 17:5-6. It occurred to me, since I've also wondered recently how to get "more" faith, that the disciples didn't really get a direct answer to their question, which I guess I'd missed because I hadn't isolated those two verses; I'd been looking at the whole chapter. The only thing I can come up with is that maybe Jesus is saying that they need faith, period. That you have it or you don't. Another translation, paraphrasal though The Message often is, seems to interpret it like that, too.
So is it that most people just don't have any, or that they're not putting it to use, or--? I feel like I should have learned this by now. Maybe I did once.
On another note, I'm taking Chris Rice's blog off my side-column (since it hasn't been updated since about April, and I've more or less given up on it) and subbing in Leroy Sievers's, which I mentioned probably back around October. He's the journalist who's chronicling having cancer, and it's certainly thought-provoking, if sort of morbid a topic. I finally caught up to the present last night (had to read a few months' worth of back-entries) and figure I'd better start following it regularly now.
'kay, off to do responsible things, such as working on my grad apps, going to the post office, and cleaning my fishtank. I know the tank just came home, but the moving process brought up a lot of crud that'd been trapped under lots of gravel. I'd been wondering how to deal with it (figured this involved actually learning how to use that...oh, what's it called? It's sort of like a pump, but not. Whatever), but vacation largely solved that for me. The filter's icky now, and should be cleaned.
-Laurel
12.18.2006
Somewhat-Cryptic Fish Update
For the interested, I have named the three cherry barbs. After watching the one male alternately chase the two females, I am going with Davy, Mary, and Sandra.
Here's lookin' at you, Applebus kids.
-Laurel
Here's lookin' at you, Applebus kids.
-Laurel
12.17.2006
News from home
December 17th, the twins' birthday. Here's to not having a stomach virus this year, though I do have a mild cold. w00t.
Have been home since Friday evening. The journey was entertaining, to say the least, because I was trying to keep my fish alive. I ended up buying two clear half-gallon Rubbermaid screw-top jars in which you'd normally keep things like sugar. I filled them instead with tank water and the fish (and, in one of them, the tank thermometer). Then I poured the rest of the water out of the big tank, then stuck the fish containers inside, anchoring them in the slightly-wet gravel that remained.
The trick, after that, was to not let the water temperature drop too far. What I ended up doing was running the heat a lot in my car, which actually worked, though it was a bit warm a day for it. Got home, dragged everything upstairs, and set it up; all went fine.
So, for an update on the fish (in case it's anywhere nearly as interesting to you as to me), we now have seven, plus a crustacean tankmate. John's guppy Jemima died a few days back; I would like to point out, however insensitively, that this was probably not my fault, unlike the whole ich thing. She's had a problem with her mouth, or digestion, or something for a couple of months, actually--she'd go without more than a scrap of food for days at a time. Finally something went wrong with that, and it was the end. So we have two guppies still, Maria and Sparkette; we have the checkerboard barb (Brett) and the plecostomus (Hoover); we now have three cherry barbs, since they're a schooling breed and I was trying to give my lone one some company, but they've yet to be named; and we have one ghost shrimp, which I think of as Pepe (after Pepe Prawn, from the Muppets) even though that's what Emily named the one of hers that died some weeks ago.
Poor Pepe almost didn't make it out of Alfred: it may or may not have been due to the small hole in my net, which developed either during or just before this process (and made the cherry barbs pretty hard to transfer), but when I went to shake him into the jar, he disappeared, and I couldn't see him on the table or floor or in the tank. Shortly, to my startled dismay, I found him wedged between the jar and the tank's outer wall, looking pretty much like a snail out of its shell, gooey and limp. I popped him into the jar quickly but without much hope for his survival, but he actually pulled through without much trouble, and seems to be doing just fine. ...Or maybe she. I don't know how to tell and will have to look it up soon.
Today some of my mom's sisters are coming over for a sort of Christmas-with-Mom's-side, so I should dry my hair and get going on the mini-reubens I said I'd make for an appetizer. More before too long. Cheerio!
-Laurel
Have been home since Friday evening. The journey was entertaining, to say the least, because I was trying to keep my fish alive. I ended up buying two clear half-gallon Rubbermaid screw-top jars in which you'd normally keep things like sugar. I filled them instead with tank water and the fish (and, in one of them, the tank thermometer). Then I poured the rest of the water out of the big tank, then stuck the fish containers inside, anchoring them in the slightly-wet gravel that remained.
The trick, after that, was to not let the water temperature drop too far. What I ended up doing was running the heat a lot in my car, which actually worked, though it was a bit warm a day for it. Got home, dragged everything upstairs, and set it up; all went fine.
So, for an update on the fish (in case it's anywhere nearly as interesting to you as to me), we now have seven, plus a crustacean tankmate. John's guppy Jemima died a few days back; I would like to point out, however insensitively, that this was probably not my fault, unlike the whole ich thing. She's had a problem with her mouth, or digestion, or something for a couple of months, actually--she'd go without more than a scrap of food for days at a time. Finally something went wrong with that, and it was the end. So we have two guppies still, Maria and Sparkette; we have the checkerboard barb (Brett) and the plecostomus (Hoover); we now have three cherry barbs, since they're a schooling breed and I was trying to give my lone one some company, but they've yet to be named; and we have one ghost shrimp, which I think of as Pepe (after Pepe Prawn, from the Muppets) even though that's what Emily named the one of hers that died some weeks ago.
Poor Pepe almost didn't make it out of Alfred: it may or may not have been due to the small hole in my net, which developed either during or just before this process (and made the cherry barbs pretty hard to transfer), but when I went to shake him into the jar, he disappeared, and I couldn't see him on the table or floor or in the tank. Shortly, to my startled dismay, I found him wedged between the jar and the tank's outer wall, looking pretty much like a snail out of its shell, gooey and limp. I popped him into the jar quickly but without much hope for his survival, but he actually pulled through without much trouble, and seems to be doing just fine. ...Or maybe she. I don't know how to tell and will have to look it up soon.
Today some of my mom's sisters are coming over for a sort of Christmas-with-Mom's-side, so I should dry my hair and get going on the mini-reubens I said I'd make for an appetizer. More before too long. Cheerio!
-Laurel