Thessaly's Tooth

Today is my dad’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad!
Two years ago today, Andy and I got engaged. Happy engagement day, us!
I’m not good at keeping up with my list o’links…but I must direct you to some remarkably good reading material at the freewheelin’ and at Enchilada Relaunch. Actually there has been a lot of good blogging going on lately, but I need to save some links for later…in case I still can’t think of any original ideas to write about.
In other news, we have at long last begun dealing with wedding pictures–scanning and such. It would be rash to make any promises, but it is within the realm of possibility that some might be put online some time soon. Better late than never, that will be my epitaph (no wait! that’s terrible. Never mind.)

I’ve been having difficulty thinking of things to write about lately. Actually, I can think of things, but they’re all kind of depressing. I start formulating my thoughts, then get gloomy and quit.
For example, the presidential election. I ought to have something to say about that–everybody else on the planet does. But thinking about it provokes an automatic gag response, and trying to write about it brings on migraines. Actually, there seems to be some sort of spell over everyone; the moment anyone tries to talk about our esteemed candidates, all that comes out is incoherent ravings. Like so:
“Bush’s latest campaign advertisement promises—acchh–gargh–that– (bleeping)–manipulative, lying—bblllrrgghh –just hate him–so much —aarrr–the yawning void–the stinking chasm–”
“Kerry claims to be a war hero. But, in this book, a group of—bllrrgg—eechch– creepy, lying–big pansy–rrrggh–the original, the eternal, the undying–”
So I’ve tried to lay off the political commentators recently. If I wanted to hear crazed ramblings I’d start listening when I talk to myself.

Today is August 11th. The high temperature predicted for today is 59 degrees. 59. This is so bizarre. It’s cooler in the summer here and in Chicago that at home in Nebraska, but 59 would be pretty low for a low temperature at this time of year. Yesterday, I had to wear jeans & a sweatshirt to walk outside, then later I sat on the couch under a blanket reading The Long Winter. What on earth is going on? I’m guessing we’ll either have the worst winter ever, or we’ll have summer in November.

An international team of little girls will be monitoring the presidential election this fall.
(nice juxtaposition of headline & picture 🙂

as the old Infocom games used to say. Man, do I seem to have a lot to say these days.
Here’s some more (about Israel this time, from the journal):

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I read Farmer Boy a couple of years ago, but other than that I’m not sure when I last read the rest of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House books. After catching a couple of episodes of Frontier House recently, I wanted to re-read them to find out how the Ingalls family dealt with the pressure of the nonstop work and uncertainty of survival that the 21st-century “homesteaders” faced.
Update: Here’s a fun site I just found about the Ingalls family.

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It’s about time I wrote some more about Israel. Here’s some stuff from my journal about a trip we took to a few sites and the Dead Sea.

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