Hear ye, hear ye

The entire world needs to know that we have a rolling pin that lives under the cabinet, and, as of about five minutes ago, it answers to the name of Cuthbert.

(I'm not sure what it answers, actually... maybe it squeaks and chitters like a mouse? Jonathan thinks it goes "Swish!" That would be like its namesake the Wimseys' snake, anyway.)

Another for the files

We found another crazy bicyclist yesterday - two, actually. We were driving up that same patch of Main Street when the pair of them turned side-by-side the wrong way onto a one-way street, into our lane, toward us. They did eventually maunder off into the parking lane and thus avoided getting squashed.

New book

We were delighted this evening to learn that Megan Whalen Turner has another Attolia book coming out -- A Conspiracy of Kings, due to be published in March. (You can pre-order it at Amazon if so inclined.) There's even a Wikipedia page on it already.

My poor overloaded bookshelves think they can find room for it. They're pretty sure, actually. :-)

They did not choose life

Bicyclists in Richmond have no fear. They're quite a remarkable breed, especially downtown. They also have apparently even less concern for mundane traffic regulations than ordinary Richmonders. I can give you two instances from this week.

The other day, Jonathan and I were stopped in traffic in the heart of downtown. It's a one-way street, very busy at rush hour, and everyone's waiting for a bus or a red light or something. A bicyclist comes whizzing downhill in the most nonchalant manner, right down the center line between the cars. It's only after he's past that we quite realize he'd been riding the wrong way down Main Street.

And then today, we were stopped again on that same patch of Main Street, when another bicyclist comes riding up the center line. He's going the right way, but he runs the red light! With steady traffic coming through the intersection! It was an amazing game of Frogger, but he not only survived, he rode up the hill and right through the next red light too, like the devil was on his tail.

Meanwhile, my bike is currently chained to the back railing with two flat tires. I'm inclined to leave it there.

Pigeonholed

We spent this evening with books and online personality quizzes. (I love Fridays, in case I haven't mentioned it lately.) I liked this quiz -- it pegged me very accurately as an INTP and Jonathan as an ISTJ.

INTPs, I learn, are inclined to like sci-fi and grammar, and easy-going as long as you don't step on our principles. We pick up interests very intensely just long enough to get decent at them, and then -- oh look! A bird! We're also not very good at regularly posting on our blogs. :-)

I was also particularly amused by this list of probable careers for ISTJs, which included "Lawyer," "Military Leader," and "Computer Programmer."

If

If I were a fashion designer, I would make a line of dresses suitable for church. These dresses would be washable for nursery-duty and potluck days, and they'd even include sleeves in the winter. They would be incredibly cute. And I'd get a really great advertising campaign for them, so that people would want to go to church just for the fun of wearing them there.

Moral philosophy vs. Twitter

I don't even do Twitter, and I found these hilarious. (Or maybe, and therefore I found them hilarious?) Augustine and Rorty... bliss.

Hat tip: The Point.

The kitchen is not on fire

After church, Lisa disappeared upstairs to tend to young David and I lay down on the couch. Our excellent husbands repaired to the kitchen and fixed lunch. I believe risotto was implicated. This was the conversation as overheard by me.

"We don't have enough chicken broth." Jonathan
"Add more white wine or vinegar or something." Ben
"I think the water will do." Jonathan
"Yeah, it will." Ben
"It's just the water that will boil off... wow." Jonathan
"It's fine." Ben
::loudly:: "It's fine, dear. Don't worry." Jonathan
"The pan is not ruined." Ben
"The wings are not on fire." Jonathan
"BUT CAN YOU FIX IT?" Me, highly amused.

"By the way, dear, and unrelated to anything that just happened, did you know that olive oil will burn when it hits one of our stove elements?" Jonathan
"As in, actually burn? With flamey things?" Me
"Oh yes, actual flamey things." Jonathan
"I think they actually used to burn olive oil for fuel." Ben
"That's right! In the Temple, and they ran out, but the oil burned for eight days! Granted, that was a miracle." Jonathan

I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip

We have a bunch of Indian programmers at work to keep our computers happy. They're quite nice, and the other day, one of them struck up a conversation with me as I made and jellied my mid-morning toast.

"Having your breakfast, eh?" he said.
"Yes," I agreed. "My second breakfast, actually. I'm like a hobbit: I eat six meals a day when I can get them."

He politely developed that frozen smile that means, "We just stopped communicating." I'm not sure if it was horror at six meals a day* or unfamiliarity with Tolkien. Westerners have some very odd hobbits indeed.


*The other three are for the new baby. Well, mostly. :-)

I adore three-day weekends

I really, really like days off. It's not that I hate my job, because it's a perfectly fine one, but there are such a lot of things at home I'd rather do. I now appreciate the Good Doctor's schedule even more than when I actually got all those Fridays off.

I'm further excited because we get to have company this weekend. Also, I like fireworks. I talked to one coworker to find out the best place to see them, and to another and learned about an out-of-the-way place that would probably have parking within walking distance (a thing not terribly common in that part of Richmond). There are definite advantages to talking to real, live, local people.

Today:
Buy provisions
Clean house
Download pictures and recharge my camera
Decorate
Cook

It's a beautiful, sunny, cool morning, and I'm highly grateful for Fourth of July weekend.