A little bit abed.

I've seen a lot of my own bedroom, from a more or less prone position, lately. Yes, still the sick. But I can tell I'm getting better. I know this, because I was able to grade today. My eyes felt hot, but not as hot. My head hurt, but I wasn't sneezing my head off. I haven't seen the new baby yet except in photos, but I will tomorrow. So: better.

I am feeling hopeful about the grading. I can only foresee a few little glitches. And I have made up my mind that I will not be running after them, figuratively, begging them to give me the work they forgot, or decided to bail on, or are withholding, just for the fun of seeing me freak out about it. (That last part might not be literally true, ever. But it sure feels that way sometimes.) NO. I will not. They will have to take the grade I give them if their work isn't complete, and we will discuss it in the new year.



(don't hesitate to turn up the volume, if it's too quiet.)

Ill Christmas.

Man.

I hate getting sick at the ends of semesters. However, it appears that it is the way of my life. Via dolorosa de mi casa, as it were. I remember one time, I was so sick at the end of the semester, my first husband and I took to our beds for what seemed like days. We arose from our bed of affliction to go to the mall the day before Christmas, so we would have a present for each other. When I saw some people dressed up like reindeer (can that be right? I was delirious), and I thought, I wish I had brought Prudence (our cat)--she would have loved this.

I'm not that sick this time. But I am all DayQuil'd up and trying to overlap the doses so there's no complete experience of how sick I really am at any time. Because that would be horrible. I can't even bear to contemplate it.

I'm almost done whining about it, hang on.

I did have to go into school to "teach" my last class. Then there was a meeting I chaired. By the end, I basically was walking around like The Empress of Contagion. I considered, briefly, stopping at a store on the way home, but the last shred of reason still firing in my brain told me NO.

Can I refill your eggnog for you?

I look forward to weeks spent in its glow. Grading. In its glow.

All I want for Christmas

...is for everyone to blog more. Is that too much to ask?

I was talking about this with my Scotland daughter today. Well, chatting about it:

me: they're dead to me, the blog-giver-uppers.  But that doesn't seem very Christmas-y. So I turned it into a wish. I just want a daily or almost daily shot of your stories, your images, your errant thoughts. Like this morning, I woke up and the sun was coming up. Even from a horizontal, prone position, I could see the warmth of the colors in the sky.

"It's glowing," said the historian, his first words of the day.

I got up and looked. Across the horse field the cars were on their various ways, to work, school, all and sundry. And in the horse field was an actual horse, just standing in the field, as they do:

(I exempt from this Christmas wish list all the people who do blog regularly or semi-regularly. You guys are good, and I sincerely do appreciate you. Carry on.)

A proposed new video series: denied. And pancakes.

Several years ago, I proposed a video series to the historian, called The Historian Explains:

Me: Remember when I had that idea of making a video with you explaining stuff? And maybe you'd be eating pancakes?

Historian: (eating pancakes) Vaguely.

Me: And you turned me down.

Historian: ...

Me: You wouldn't have to be eating pancakes. You could, like, explain things. Like surplus value.

Historian: ...

Me: I think people might want to know that.

Historian: Possibly.

Me: So maybe you'd do it now?

Historian: No.

I live to make this video series. We shall see what we shall see.

But the good news is, I made the best pancakes known to humankind tonight. It's the same recipe I've been using for years now, and they are still the best pancakes known to humankind. Also, we had them with peach jam that I made, and it is possibly the best jam I've ever made.

Cottage Cheese Pancakes, from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.

Mix 1 c. buttermilk and 2 egg yolks (put the whites in another bowl) together. Add 1 c. cottage cheese, 4 T. melted butter, and 1 t. vanilla. Whisk away.

Add 1 T. sugar, 1/2 t. grated nutmeg (preferably freshly grated--do it! it is so choice!), 1/4 t. salt, 1/2 t. baking soda, and 1 c. flour. Whisk this all in.

Beat the egg whites till soft peaks form. Stir a quarter cup of the whites into the batter, then fold in the rest until they're incorporated--use a light hand.

Get out yer griddle. Heat it up. Cook the pancakes over medium heat the way you usually do. Be a little patient. The batter's a little bit delicate.

Eat with jam. You will feel restored. These are perfectly wonderful for supper.

The HEAT.

Publication Studies class.

Condiment says:

Please file a report on your bookmaking class, please, and show examples, if copyright allows.

In lieu of a full report of the Publication Studies class, I offer this documentary, made by awesome students Megan Weiler and Jason McFarland, of the chapbook project:

Video: bag of Scottish treats, with explanatory remarks.

Something new.

just like a print essay, a video essay is a way to explore an idea, but with sound and image adding dimension.

A few resources--

Peter Thompson, "The Cinematic Essay: the Cine What?"
Claudia Gorbman, "Places and Play in Agnes Varda's Cinecriture"
Jonathan Dawson, on "Letter to Jane"
Ze Frank (the video that gets cut off at the end is here)

Funk'll getcha.

I have given a lot of thought to this question, and now I think I know what the internet is for: so I can be presented with the opportunity to watch this, which I have seen maybe just once, while I am grading:

TAGS: walk without rhythm

I have three things to say about this.

A. Wow.

2. This is one of THE greatest pop songs ever, bar none, including all of the Beatles.

and thirdly, why does this never happen at my place of employment? Why?

(via the Fug Girls, who, I thank deity every day! that they are alive and blogging.)

TAGS: shenanigans, BSB

Keep that iced tea coming.

In megastore news:

• heat makes me cranky.
• the historian hooked up the swamp cooler.
• it needs to be replaced.
• we're running it anyway, because
• heat makes me cranky.

Also, who finds it annoying when things you want to read that should be online aren't? Well, I do. I am a full-on digital crank. With extra cranky on the side in the summertime.

Anyways, here's my video essay (who knows why we're getting stripes here? I don't). Hope you're staying cool.

practical cosmogony from lisab on Vimeo.

You know you want to know this.

My sleep patterns just could not be more riveting:

sleep disorder. from lisab on Vimeo.

Thanks for watching.

That's what I want.

Lately, the historian and I have been talking about money. A lot. It turns out the historian is thinking about retirement which means--why is this?--that we need to think about how we spend money (as opposed to just spending it, which I think we'll all agree is preferable, especially if there's an endless supply, which, come to think of it, we don't have, haven't ever had, we should probably have been talking about this sooner!). This is good (I keep telling myself).

So right now, we talk about almost every purchase with an eye toward (a) not crossing the threshold we're shooting for, and (b) figuring out how our little schema with its thresholds works. So, for instance, are the presents we bought for a new baby part of the "Gifts" budget? or is it part of the "Miscellaneous Expenditures" budget, since it's not one of the gifts designated in the gifts budget? Yes, this way lies madness, especially when you're paying the cashier at Target and thinking, if it comes out of the miscellaneous budget, that really cramps our miscellaneous style!

This is good (I keep telling myself). The flowers I bought and planted this weekend, and also tomatoes, basil, and other herbs, belong in the "Miscellaneous Expenditures" budget, although I'm thinking of advancing the idea that "miscellaneous" needs to be deconstructed into "Household" and "Car" and other stuff that will make the categories less all-encompassing and therefore less likely to make me feel like there is no money to buy, say, nail polish. Or earrings.

In the meanwhile, I made another movie. For free (sort of--if you don't count internet access, or amortize the iMac and its splendid software, or my camera, etc. etc. etc. we've spent all the money and we're never going to be able to afford to go to France). This one is about Bruiser, and he is in the frame at every point! Technical advance!

And now, a few questions for Bruiser. from lisab on Vimeo.

The historian quotes scripture. Plus bonus video.

Me: . . . because I'm at an age where sleep is harder to come by.

Historian (doesn't understand this alien language I'm speaking): Really?

Me: But you don't have any problem sleeping, do you? That's because you have the good temperament.

Historian: That's right. Saint John the Good.

Me: Good temperament, I said. Besides, you are good. You're not venal.

Historian: As opposed to you. You wouldn't say you're venal, would you?

Me: I sure am. I am quick to anger and consumed with envy.

Historian: Just the opposite of what you're supposed to be.

Me: (quick to wrath, therefore fuming)

Historian: You're supposed to be . . . what is it the Book of Mormon says?

Me: . . .

Historian: Slow to anger and quiet as an . . . owl? And wise as . . . a goat.

Me: Wise as a goat.

Historian: . . . or maybe that's the Bible, but not translated correctly.

New video:

Market. from lisab on Vimeo.