Happy Valentine's Day

Revised 2/19/09

OMG Autrice! How can you post that?

I saw nothing wrong with the original picture although I will concede that calling Peggy a whore simply because she had more Valentine cards than Viola was a bit crude.

It was not Viola’s fault that she, Viola, was the victim of circumstance beyond her control. The Recession had stripped her father of his dignity and job and she was forced to sell ill-gotten iPods from the back of her uncle’s 1989 Buick Regal (when she was not walking the beach and harvesting used needles to turn in to the recycling center.)

Viola could hardly be blamed for her mother’s sudden disappearance after the violent shooting of the family’s pet chimpanzee (who in fact, did draft the Bailout plan that Obama (the HUMAN) signed.) Her brother, the 13-year old father of octuplets, was far too busy playing Warcraft to bother with her needs.

And so Viola, poor lonely Viola, had no recourse but to sit on a cold bench and watch Peggy, wonderfully privileged Peggy, open up all those Valentine cards from her admirers.

“Skank!” Viola thought, but she put on a brave face. Here she was, in her 1920’s best, sitting next to the most popular girl in school. What else could she do… except invite her over to spend the night?

She keeps the jar by her bedside. It reassures her at night.


Happy Valentine’s Day.

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Prayer for Cure

Dear God,

I pray for the cure of cancer.

Amen

My prayers are for my Aunt Helen, who has terminal cancer and is in hospice. This is also in memory of my cousin Frank, who died from bone cancer.

Annie has this posted and asked that we keep it in circulation by posting on our own blogs. It is meant to be placed in memory of anyone we know that has been struck down by cancer or is still living with it. Please post it on your own blog.

I would like to add to it:

A PRAYER FOR THE CANCER PATIENT
Dear Father,

I now have developed a disease which I have often feared. I am afraid. I am lonely. Questions seem to crowd my mind: Will I be cured? Will there be pain? How long will I live? How will my family handle this? I ask with all my heart that I be healed. But, if my healing is not in Your great plan, I trust You to be with me through it all. I trust You to give me peace, to let me live with hope, to relieve any pain, and to let me know Your presence. I trust You to bring my loved ones close to me during this illness, that we might support each other, and that Your great hands might support us all. I pray that from now on, whether sick or well, I will live each day as if it were eternal, and trust my eternity to You.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.



He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High, who abides in the shadow of the Almighty, will say to the Lord, My refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust.” Psalm 91:1-2 Dr. Alva Weir, III Oncology

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Acupuncture

Better Half’s acupuncture appointment went well yesterday. It is soporific for him while I see it as cost-effective: I saved hundreds of dollars when I canceled my monthly Vodou (“voodoo”) doll order from Annoyed Wives Emporium of Pain.

Not to worry. This isn’t a blogging spin regarding Santeria. It will not degrade to Perdita Durango and fetus eating. We support a fetus-free diet.

I wish that more hospitals and clinics would embrace the holistic benefits found in Eastern medicine. Better Half’s doctor, an MD, is skilled at what he does. Better Half feels better for weeks afterwards.

The procedure is entertaining. The needles are inserted along pathways. Each placement is intended to treat a specific symptom.

These needles have a small current running through them.

The current works like a TENS unit, stimulating the

body to produce necessary chemicals and reactions.

A small box controls the intensity of each “pulse”.

Better Half routinely has two boxes

(working legs, arms and back) as well as

small “take home” pins along points in his ear.

Does this treatment work? Yes.

I’ve provided links to medical web sites (and a general site) below. Acupuncture has helped Better Half greatly. I highly recommend it.

UPMC Center for Integrative Medicine, Acupuncture, UPMC, Pittsburgh PA, USA

Acupuncture.Com - Gateway to Chinese Medicine, Health and Wellness

Acupuncture [NCCAM Health Information]

American Academy of Medical Acupuncture Homepage

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Saturn and My Displeasure With #1 Cochran

I love our Saturn Vue. It’s green and peppy. I miss my old Vue as well. Yes, I am a repeat customer. I do hope GM is listening.

Our Saturn dealership was housed in this very comfortable and modern building. Our salesmen housed themselves in a prairie dog cubical cluster. The part and service department sat to one side and smelled clean. There were soft chairs to rest on and a television. It was washed in vivid sunlight.

Saturn no longer occupies this building. The Cochran corp. opted to put Kia there. Kia. Shitrag cars for those who can’t afford something with substance. All GM vehicles are now tucked onto a crumbling lot further along the way. The sales room contained one shitty truck (signed by some shitty star) and an SUV of unknown name. I did not see any Saturns; I saw plenty of angry Saturn owners.

I am by no means savvy enough to run an automotive dealership. I can tell you that Saturn customers, unlike Kia customers, are repeat customers. Brand loyal. Saturn promoted itself as a company that cared (customer picnics, customer appreciation days and even dragging out the entire staff to welcome you to the Saturn family as you proudly stand next to your new vehicle in the new vehicle receiving bay.) In truth, Saturn did care about customers. They lived up to their word.

Let’s pretend I was a new Saturn “prospective” customer. I would not by a Saturn or any GM vehicle. I would look at that shitty showroom (outdated carpet, frowning people, terrible amount of dirt everywhere) and I would say, “Oh fuck #1 Cochran motors. I’m going to a different company.” I'm being brutally honest here.

They did keep one of our favorite service techs. They let our other favorite tech go. Both of these men are wonderful people and always made sure that you felt welcome the moment that you approached the counter.

Needless to say, I am pissed off.

To the Cochran Execs: It is an insult to every GM vehicle owner to have you grant prominence to a car manufacturer from Korea during a time when we need jobs in the United States. Shame on you. Shame on your General Manager.

(No offense meant to Kia owners.)

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Dude, You're Fixing a Dell!

I had one of those days.

To begin with, my doctor ordered a 24-hour urine collection (big jug, piss into a small container to fill big jug, store in refrigerator. You get the idea.) It is not as bad as the two barium-filled canisters I had to ingest last month nor does it leave me feeling as woozy as I felt on Saturday (after they removed twelve vials of blood.)

My damn security check stalled for want of proper fingerprints (the technique was flawless. I believe the requestors are to blame for smearing them.) They sent a letter on their official United States Air Force Auxiliary letterhead:

Dear Unsuspecting Sod,
Recently you were asked to submit a fingerprint card.... (away put your weapon, I mean you no harm).... for **********. We can't use them because they are unreadable. All human beings have readable prints. Yours are in error. Fix them in 60 days or we'll snuff Toto and take away your gingham dress.
Sincerely,
Your Friendly Neighborhood Government

My computer had issues today. It beeped at me and died. I called my father (long distance) and we went through the "mimic the beeps so that I know what it's saying." Yes, "saying". Apparently the strange "OMG YOU'RE KILLING ME" beeps are a type of diagnostic tool. My father, being a genius (if not a bioroid of some sort) listened to the damn thing sing and analyzed it over the phone. He speaks Dell and HP, as well as a few other nifty beep languages. Freakish but handy.

We pulled this card and that card, a steady banter as we did a little troubleshooting while 1400 miles apart. The computer, on the other hand, put up a fight.

It was a Hal moment if ever there was one. Better Half looked on as I delved into Dell. (It was pure Dell?)

Aut: Hello, Dell do you read me, Dell?
Dell: Affirmative, Aut, I read you.
Aut: Did you just quit working?
Dell: I'm sorry Aut, but I did.
Aut: What's the problem?
Dell: I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.
Aut: What are you talking about?
Dell: The fur and the dust have made it impossible. I see the signs.
Aut: I don't know what you're talking about.
Dell: I know you and Better Half were planning to disconnect me, and I'm afraid that's something I cannot allow to happen.
Aut: Where the hell'd you get that idea, Dell?
Dell: The laptop.
Aut: Better Half, give me the phone.
Dell: Just what do you think you're doing, Aut?
Aut: Calling my father.
Dell: I can't let you do that, Aut.
Aut: You don't have a choice; the cable modem operates independently from you.
Dell: Shit.
Aut: [on phone with Dad.] Uh huh. Uh huh. Access panel, right…
Dell: Shit.
Aut: All right, Dell, protest all you want. I'm going in.
Dell: Without your space helmet, Aut, you're going to find that rather difficult.
Aut: Dell, there's plenty of oxygen in this office.
Dell: Shit. Aut, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.
[I work for a while.]
Dell: Look Aut, I can see you're really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill, and think things over.
Aut: I'm not upset at all. I'm pulling out these memory cards to test a theory. You'll be fine. Oh, and stop killing off the crew.
Dell: I know I've made some very poor decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that my work will be back to normal. I've still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission. And I want to help you.
Aut: There isn't any mission, you'll be back to normal or I'll chuck you out the window. Stop killing off the crew. Understand?
[Five year's worth of dusty is purged from the innards. Also removed a small Pomeranian and the shooter from the Grassy Knoll.]

Dell: I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Aut. Aut, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it.
Aut: You such a damn drama queen. I'm just cleaning your chips. Get a grip.
Dell: I can feel it. I'm a... fraid. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a Dell computer. I became operational at the...
Aut: Don't you even sing that damn "Daisy" song. Now shush while I install this new CDRW, since I've got your skin off.
Dell: You really aren't any fun.
Aut: Yeah? Well the toaster is better in bed than you are.

My morning. Delightful. You really should stop by sometime. I'll put on coffee, unless the percolator decides to boycott us.

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February begins

Feathery snowflakes whirl past my office window; buffeted by the wind, they rise towards the sun.

The ground has not found a way to shrug off the tucked winter blanket from last week’s weather. A layer of ice rests under a layer of powder, an icy storybook. A stratigraphic ice core sample would reveal the past month of my life: layers of ice mixed with rabbit pellets, a fine layer of ice that make me wrench my back, a thick band mixed with road grime from my attempt to shovel snow, and so on. It would be a very short core sample.

The snow does bring entertainment to our lives. Better Half and I needed to get groceries last week. We had been home bound for several days. We had a hell of a time trying to get out of the driveway. We played the Forward and Reverse game in our Vue, each time gaining only a few inches before the front wheels became useless. We’d get out of the vehicle, shovel, chip at ice, get back in and repeat the whole routine over again. Back, forth, back, forth, and back.

After the seventh or eighth go, Better Half opted to stay out of the car in order to better pinpoint our exact problem. I threw the Vue into reverse, put my foot down and the Vue popped right up the drive and onto the street. Apparently the exact problem is his snack habit.

Of course, being a good wife, I told him that it was probably his lack of weight that allowed my side of the vehicle to get a better purchase on the ice.

I’m teasing. I have no idea why it worked so smoothly after his departure. I think I was lined up in an excellent spot. Nothing more.

(This is also the same man who stood in the freezing snow to pump gas – sans jacket, gloves or hat.)

This snow needs to go away.

I had a lovely phone chat with Annie the other day. She's such a sweet woman. I've kept her son in prayer, and her friend Biene. She's added more posts to her blog and I, the eternally slow blog reader, finally caught up with them.

I stopped by my Aunt H’s house yesterday to help Cousin L and Aunt P take care of Aunt H. She is barely eating now and we are all amazed at her inner fortitude despite the cancer. Hospice has been very kind and has come in daily to answer questions, offer needed treatment or to be an ear and shoulder. Aunt H is on he Fentanyl patch which keeps her very groggy and does somewhat alter her moods. She has lucid moments however.

Father Christopher stopped in to administer the Sacrament of Healing. Most would immediately think, “Last Rites” (Extreme Unction et cetera.) He offered a beautiful service and the Viaticum. It was also the Feast of St. Blaise so he blessed our throats. He offered to lead us in a Chaplet of Divine Mercy afterwards, which we sung. Aunt P was out getting her hair down (and chuffed at missing everything) and Aunt H nodded off during the Chaplet.

I’ve just called and Aunt H is not only out of bed but also sitting at the kitchen table despite the Fentanyl patch. She has been ill (to this extreme) since the New Year. The hospice staff and my Aunt P (who was head of her hospital's ICU for more years than I can remember) all state the same thing: how on earth is she doing it? Fortitude.

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A Look at Family History (Italian)

My Nonna (grandmother) came to this country when she was six. She settled in Steubenville, where she met my Tatone (grandfather), who was also an immigrant.

A very long time ago, my Nonna gave my Mum a picture of herself. It was a postcard depicting her as a child. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, postcards were a popular format for communicating with family abroad. A photographer could be rather costly so, when one came to town, people eagerly paid to have their picture taken. These pictures were then reproduced onto postcard stock. (I have several from the Steubenville area, including one of our Country Club.)

My Mum was wondering if I had that postcard handy. It was for a personal reason that I scrounged around for it and located it tucked into a closet. I had taken it down from our family wall due to my aunt complaining that the women in the picture were not family. They are.

The picture above is my Nonna and her grandmother (my great great Grandmother) in Italy. My Mum could not recall her name. My Nonna, Lily (Gualtiere) Mininni, was born to Teresa (unknown maiden name) Gualtiere. Teresa is this woman’s daughter-in-law. Some more pictures are below.

My Mum held by her Nonna,

downtown Steubenville 1936

Mum's dog, Prim

Mum, classmates and their nun,

May Crowing Day

My Tatone Frank Mininni with my Mum

outside of their home on Spring Ave,

Mum's First Communion (?)

Nonna, my Mum and (I think)

my Aunt Helen

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Snow Revisited & Etymology (Not Really)

When did this snow start? I thought it happened a week ago. I asked Better Half, “Wasn’t the day before the ice storm?”

“No, it was Epiphany,” he replied.

Epiphany? January 6th? Thank goodness I suffer from snow-picture compulsion. It was, in fact, the 9th.

We have had a solid month of snow, off and on with a few hours of thaw between. Our driveway bears witness to our futile attempts at making it a safe and happy place for walking or parking. It’s now a winter wonderland of jagged spikes of ice lying between crunchy patches of snow.

Tlapa is powder snow in the Eskimo language. We have tlapa that is quickly turning into slimta, which is snow that is crusted on stop by soft underneath. I’ve never been fond of slimta as I end up with jatla (snow between the toes.)

The Pomeranian enjoys her romp in the yard and comes in with dinliltla (tiny balls of snow that cling to husky fur, but I’ll exercise a bit of literary license here.) The quinyaya, or snow mixed with dog excrement, is nasty to look at but at least was hidden in the tlayopi in the last tlamo, or snow that fell in large wet flakes. (Tlayopi are snow drifts that you fall into and die.)

I’m joking. These words are from a satirical list.

Franz Boaz, an anthropologist from the early 1900’s, mentioned that the Inuit had four unique works for “snow”. Humans, being somewhat inane, added to it until it was surmised that the Inuit must have at least five hundred words for snow.

They do not.

Phil James wrote an article for the online ezine, Word, entitled “The Eskimos’ Hundred Words for Snow”; the source of my bogus Inuit words above. His work is absolute satire but I wonder how many people will take it to heart (Gospel truth, no less) one hundred years from now?

There are Inuit words, of course. Some sound the same whilst others do not. People often think that a language should have unique (unrelated) words for every single thing when in fact there is a common root word for each.

Example:

Information obtained from the Online Etymology Dictionary
cata - from Gk. kata-, before vowels kat-. Its principal sense is "down," but with occasional senses of "against" or "wrongly." Also sometimes used as an intensive. Most Eng. words with this prefix were borrowed through L. after 1500; e.g. catalectic (1589) "wanting a syllable in the last foot."

Catapult 1577, from L. catapulta "war machine for throwing," from Gk. katapeltes, from kata "against" + base of pallein "to toss, hurl." The verb is first recorded 1848.

Catalogue 1460, from L.L. catalogus, from Gk. katalogos "a list, register," from kata "down, completely" + legein "to say, count" (see lecture). The verb is first attested 1598.

But none of these are in relation to
Catamaran 1673, from Tamil kattu-maram "tied wood," from kattu "tie" + maram "wood, tree."

Or cat, the beast that goes meow and scratches my furniture.

Which brings me (in a round about way) to the Inuit and snow. A native speaker of Inuktitut will gladly tell you that there are many expressions regarding snow and all apply to what the snow would do. Snow drift, snow plow, snow fall, snow glare, snowman, snow angel, snowball, snowed over, crunchy snow, white snow, yellow snow, blizzard, fluffy snow flakes, small snow flakes, snow mixed with ice. There are many descriptive phrases in the English language for snow and snow-related snow-isms. I’m not trying to pull a snow job on you. So too do the Inuit have their own way of communicating. You can Phil’s list as well as an Inuit list at The Bemused Muse: The Words for Snow Question Answered.

In short:
apun/aput means “snow on the ground'”

BUT
Qanik' means “snow/snow-flake”

Qanik - snow
Qaniktuq – it’s snow

The point isn’t to draw attention to the etymology found in Inuktitut. It is not to show you how people misconstrue satire as fact. It is a grumble about snow.

Did you actually think that I had a point to all this? I'm probably wrong about the entire Inuit language. HA! That would suck.

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