Random Thursday: Dancing, Delurking, and a Frozen Deluge

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā):  the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s acquired during the week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as actually sitting down and creating real content.

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Swan Lake Extreme

Never in a million, trillion years would I be able to do this, even if the human race evolved into sentient rubber bands who still enjoyed the ballet.  Even if I was that guy whose only job was to wear that head thingie and not drop her.  My spine fuses at the very thought.

I’m not sure this really needed to be done—if you ask me, Swan Lake doesn’t need gimmicks—but it is astounding and quite beautiful.

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International Delurking Week!!

I found out this morning over at Sherry Stanfa-Stanley’s blog that it’s International Blog Delurking Week, the week in which bloggers try to coax the people who are reading by not commenting to do so.

A few people prefer to send me e-mail comments—thank you, guys!—but there are always a few post hits around here that I can’t attribute to spam or referrerbots.*

So if you’re a regular reader around here but haven’t commented because my brilliance—or abject ignorance—renders you speechless, or you just dropped by to find cider recipes or ear fetishes or to look at that danged baby polar bear image I put up almost a year ago as an instead-of-post that still gets four hits a day,**  I encourage you to leave a comment or drop me an e-mail or tweet to prove you’re nether spammer nor ‘bot.

Use an alias, if you prefer not to be seen here—a lot of my friends do.  I’m sure they have good reasons . . .

And if all those extra hits are only from just one lovely person hitting the reload button several times for each post to make me feel happy, and you are that lovely person,  please leave a comment—I want to thank you.

‘Cause it worked.

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Let it Snow, My @$$

At the writing of this particular bit, it’s snowing. Has been since about 4am this morning.

We were supposed to get five inches between now and Sunday, a little at a time.  A few pretty showers of tasteful, feathery flakes, easily cleaned up with a shovel, that’s what we were told.  Heck, Sunny could probably do the driveway herself.

Instead, we’ve got five inches of wet stuff on the ground, about four to go, and I’m ten miles and a slushie-covered bridge away from home.  I know this because my husband picked up Jane  for me, about an hour ago, as there’s no way I’ll make the three miles from the library to her school  in the thirty minute I have on these roads in the dark.

One day, I will not have to leave the house when it snows.   I’m looking forward to that day more than I am to menopause—you’ll just have to trust me on the intensity of that statement, as I have no intention of expounding.  You’re welcome.

By the time this is posted, I’ll be going fifteen miles an hour along a choppy river the color of an angry bruise.

Wish me luck—and that Rocinante’s brakes do what they’re supposed to do all the way home.***

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The Secret Life of Dancing Books

A friend sent me this the other day, and since then I’ve been seeing it everywhere, so chances are, you’ve seen it, too.   But you can’t seriously be tired of it yet—I’m not—so here it is:

This must have taken weeks, if not months, of moving books back and forth and up and down like  Sisyphus with a camera and the Fury  of Continuity breathing down his neck while holding a very large whip. . .  But the first thing I thought when I saw it was, “I knew it!”

‘Fess up^—didn’t you?

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*That I take the time to do the math makes me sound totally obsessed over my blog stats, which is absolutely true.

**Am I bitter that it’s my third most popular post?  Possibly.  But not enough to take it down and lose the hits.  See?  Obsessed.

*** Why not do so in the comments?

^  In the comments, if you wouldn’t mind, just this once?

23 thoughts on “Random Thursday: Dancing, Delurking, and a Frozen Deluge

  1. Hi. By this time last winter we’d had three major snow storms. This year, a bit of snow for Halloween [which was unusually early], but since then, nada. You can walk outside wearing a cardigan. It’s disorienting. Also a bit scary. As in climate change scary.

    Good luck with your brakes and safe trip home.

    Nice talking to you. We must do this again sometime.

    • Thanks, Nancy! I arrived home an hour later than usual, but I arrived.

      You’re right; we had a record high of 62F just this past weekend. The fluctuations are becoming bizarre.

      And we really must—you’re always welcome, but shall I pencil you in next January definite? 🙂

  2. Dropping by your blog on a snowy evening to do my bit for delunking, delousing, and the lot. If you want a fun activity that is also a way of passive-aggressively getting back at the snow, consider urine-free snow decorating. Mix food coloring and water and load up squirt bottles, spray bottles, and water guns. Not only will you and the kids make a mess, irk your neighbors and temporarily lower your property value, but you’ll also burn off some energy and create a reason (as if we need one) for having hot cocoa when you’re done. Pip, Pip, cheerio, and toodles!

    • Hiya, Cha-Cha.

      I’m all about the passive-agressive, when it comes to snow. I was wearing those shoes of mine with the holes in them and no socks, because a) we were only supposed to have one inch of snow this afternoon; and b) I’m an idiot. And there were no scrapers in my car. I own two, one with a long-handled brush that sure a would have come in handy, and they weren’t there. I did what I could with my gloves—but because I had to divert all power to the front shields so I could see, I dehydrated my contacts and my feet were like numb concrete when I got them home.

      And then my MIL looks up from her crossword and says, “Oh, I didn’t do anything for dinner tonight because I’m just so worn out.”

      Whoa . . . I think my passive just kicked into agressive . . .

  3. Fellow Illinois commuter! We did it! Tomorrow the icy bridge should be that much more awesome.

    Okay, since you weren’t aware of the storm situation, tomorrow it’s supposed to be cold (up north anyway). Negative temperatures wind chill cold. Try and wear socks this time, so your ballet dream can be realized. This has been a public service announcement.

    (And the books? I so knew it too.)

    • I’m just praying the roads are either completely clear tomorrow, or impassible. One or the other, not both.

      I’m more or less due east of you, so cold is a given. I dug my socks out and found my scraper so i suppose I’m prepared. Nuts.

      (all my favorite books dance, all the time)

  4. I’m glad that gymnast/ballerina let out a sigh of relief at the end. Otherwise I would have most certainly thought she was just a flexible robot. That was unbelievable!

    Sorry you’re in the midst of crappy weather. I am definitely not looking forward to facing it this year.

  5. I read your blog this morning and was amazed by the ballerina. While running against the cold wind (again) I decided to delurk – just this once. Please don’t make me do it again.

    Stay save in your belated outbreak of winter!

    • I agree! The people who made this one started with one bookcase—it’s on YouTube, too.

      And thanks—although there’s a fine line between versatile and scattered, and I’m never quite sure where that line is!

    • Maybe we have—you look familiar . . . 🙂

      I spend waaaay too much time on YouTube and I have friends who know I love videos and e-mail me links. You should see my bookmarked list!

  6. The book video definitely confirms what I thought. 🙂

    I get so homesick for Chicago and then I remember what it was like to shovel snow from the sidewalks surrounding our corner lot.

  7. I wanted to say something about those dancing books, but all I can think about is snow. Snow here. Snow on the news. Snow at Lyra’s in the inverted snow globe. The one thing I miss about living in Minneapolis is how softly the snow can fall, how quiet it makes the world (at least for a bit). I used to feel all light and floaty when a good snow came ’round.

    • I only feel light and floaty in snow when I don’t have to drive in it.

      Seriously–give me a quilt fresh from the dryer and a book and a cup of hot tea and I’ll love winter. Give me a ten-mile, hour long commute on slippery roads and a slog through slush to get to work and then do the whole thing in reverse 8 hours later . . . and I won’t.

      • I hear that. It was so cold one winter in Minnesota I actually took the Spring semester off. Come January, there was the massive snow, but also temps below zero for most of Jan and Feb — I knew I couldn’t take the hikes across the bridge between campuses 4 times a day in that. And before I moved to Minnesota I used to travel there often —- how many times did my rental car key not open the frozen lock? Too many. WINTER!!!

  8. I had to watch the Swan Lake video twice because I got totally lost in the music the first time. Is it wrong that my first thought was ‘at least the people at the back get to see her’?

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