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Jun. 28th, 2011 @ 08:20 pm just real quick -- mom's home, looks great!
we're looking at dinner.  She's very happy to be home and she's looking strong and happy, after a scary yesterday at the hospital.  They sent her home with a leaflet called "Living with Angina" but no formal *diagnosis* of angina...?
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Mar. 14th, 2011 @ 12:01 am My mother discovers Atlantis
Current Mood: amusedbemused
So my mom is 90 and she lives with us.  She has Lewy body dementia, which to save you jumping through the link, means she has Parkinson nodules (Lewy bodies) in her forebrain, so instead of a tremor in her limbs she gets tremors in her imagination.  It's a damn good thing she has pretty good karma, because I can see how someone with a bad history in their younger years could be completely psychotically horrified with the lack of boundary between dream and reality that comes with this disorder.

Sometimes we talk about creating a show called "Shit my mom says" to counter the TV show.  My mom, who was in college in the sciences as a woman in the 1930s (inspired by M. Curie) is a reasonably curious and intelligent, cultured woman when in her right mind.  The dementia type is such that, sometimes, this shines through even on her bad days.  For example, one day she came into the kitchen while I was cooking dinner and told me, "The most amazing thing was just on TV.  All the anchors on MS-NBC were talking in iambic pentameter for an entire half hour."  "Oh, *really*!" I responded.  "Yes!" she told me, "Well, of course, except for the commercials."

Now I'm *pretty* sure that was her losing the boundary between some amusing dozy dream and reality.

Another time, as Fish and I were working in the home office at 2am, she appeared (having originally gone to bed at 10pm) fully dressed, wig on, jewelry, best Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, and at the office door, in a very official sounding tone, announced, "Someone needs to give me a ride to church!  They need me to sub for the choir director."

Without missing a beat, I just asked, "Which church, mom?" 

She stopped for a moment, said, "The church in Montpelier.  I've been dreaming haven't I?"

I nodded, and just said, "Yes, probably.  But if you get back to bed, you've got a good deal of the night you can get in some good sleep still."

Add in to the obvious points:  We're in Boston.  My parents left Montpelier over two decades ago.  My mom can neither sing nor read music (in fact, I think among my sibs, me and my dad, she's the only one who doesn't read music; not sure I've ever heard my older brother sing...).

Admittedly, sometimes it's a bit like monsters under the bed (a recurring one is asking us to check if there are people outside the driveway-side window in her bedroom, which is odd because the *other* window is on the porch so there could be people at that one -- the driveway window is about 9-10' from the ground).

She also has some pretty mundane hallucinations, like when she thought a book I was reading was marked on the pages with diagonal blue lines throughout, and actually thought that Joseph, Fish, and I were being mean because we were telling her they weren't there to tease her about her illness (because, of course, they obviously really *were* there and we were lying for some irrational reason).  (and for those game folks out there, the book in question was Raph Koster's A Theory of Fun, which she thought was something like the New Yorker for the drawings).

All this to give you context for a small dinner conversation tonight.  We're sitting down at dinner, and mom tells me, "So, they've discovered Atlantis, did you hear?"  And I say, "Oh, really?" and think "omg, is she wonky?  did she mishear something on the news?..."

Mom just gets this little smile and doesn't say a word more.

And I think, "Should I ask her more about it?  Would she see that as persecutorial?  What's my motivation in this scene?"  My final conclusion, let her talk more about it if she wants to.

After dinner, we do the usual bits, she's off to bed, and I sit down at the computer and hit google.  Sure enough, some enterprising and publicity hungry archaeologists are opportunistically framing a find in Spain as the rediscovered Atlantis, destroyed utterly by a tsunami millenia ago. 

I imagine her going to bed with that same little smile on her face thinking, "Ha!  Made ya look!"

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Mar. 6th, 2011 @ 04:15 am State of the Shava 3/6
Current Mood: satisfiedsatisfied

So, between ictal events, I'm running at 100%.  Soon I have to decide how much I'm in love with the idea of treating the seizure symptoms rather than just living with the interictal (between seizure times, which are more than 99% - not sure how many sigmas...).  If I'm ok, 99%+ of the time, but the meds are very very very likely to make me non-optimal 100% of the time, it's a harder choice than you might think, to try to get rid of the seizures (remember, these are not grand mal, more like narsty migraines to make a sort of poor analogy).

Because I'm more or less running at former-Shava speed, I'm overcommitting in a big way. 

I'm in the middle to later stages of five job interview processes.  I have a job that isn't paying yet, organizing an online privacy/security consumer advocacy nonprofit based in NYC, which is just at the stage of applying for their 501[c][3], and as yet unfunded (contact me for more info if you know folks who are interested in consumer rights online, as well as provider practices regarding duty to users regarding data backup, data retention, privacy policies, releasing data only on proper law enforcement paperwork and notifying you when they do, and so on).  I'm a little sad that two of the processes may take me and my family to DC or SF, but I need a freakin' job, yo?  And the folks I'm interviewing either place are people who I could make a difference working for...

I am overdue with a paper for New Directions in Folklore on the relationship between myth/folklore structures, subcreative fiction, and transmedia.  (Yes, it's that interesting -- like taking light, breaking it into a zillion colors during the renaissance through the age of reason, turning it all pink during the late 18th and into the 19th C,, putting it through a lens at Tolkien, and then lasing the stuff into a narrowing beam...)

The research I did for the paper has brought me to an entirely disruptive theory regarding media studies, which makes me want to write speculative fiction to illustrate the theory, first time I've felt I wanted to (rather than should be) writing fiction in a long time.  I've got a growing outline, I have characters, and I'm waiting for the characters to tell me plot, while I watch them create scenes with each other.

My prior gaming habit (i.e. spend lots of time with LOTRO becuase I wasn't well enough to do crap) is falling by the wayside, and I am in a position of gaming less than ten hours a week, which I think may be the first time that's true in this century.  Before I got sick, I'd play MMOs or futz around in Second Life in the evenings with Fish.  Now I work a few hours a week in SL, and hardly play LOTRO more than a few hours a week.  I'm probably gaming more on my iphone on the T going from place to place (or waking up in the a.m. before my brain can approach twitter...).

So, I am busy and happy except for the occasional "spell" as the Brits say, and except for the money situation.  This nonprofit gig -- if I don't raise enough money soon enough to avoid taking another job, I'm going to be on their board.  Cool stuff.  I'm having coffee with Lessig soon to get advice and see if we can get him on board/advisory. 

I love saving the world..

Also in this past monthish, my Klout score (twitter influence) topped 50 and is continuing to creep upwards.  Oddly, this is an asset  in some of the job interviews I've had.

I'm also gestating a few blog articles, one of which has to do with how society may change as the minority "I" folks (introverts) start having more cultural reach through the net.

Way too much to think about, way too much to do.  I must be just better, because in general, for the last few years, I couldn't even imagine getting back to this level of brain-play.  Yay!

I need to chase more of you down (at least the local folks) and see you in person.  I said that before, but it's *so* easy for me to come out for things like Arisia, engage in provocative lovely conversations with folks, and then never follow up because, you know, I just tend to stay home... It's like going to work out, I know it's good for me...I like it when I do... 


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Feb. 6th, 2011 @ 12:45 am No Sleep Till Brooklyn (2011 genetic mutation)
Current Location: youtube
Current Mood: coldcool cool
Current Music: Das Racist duh
Tags: , ,

My sense of humor? Neither/both ironic postironic
Monophonic beats with polyphonic,  fav'rite tonic
I catch a video but catch a vid is catching I
I am discovering these new Das Racist nexi
<beat>

[no really, my musical taste is more eclectic than you think right now.  Now think again...  Now think again...]

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Feb. 5th, 2011 @ 11:05 pm The word for today is: Hypergraphia
Current Mood: contentcontent
Those of you who've known me for a while, know I write a lot, typically, since the early 80s, 2000-5000 words a day.  Most of those words are emails, postings to groups, often blog articles.  For the last three years or so, that output was probably cut to 2-5K words a week.  It's  been something I've missed terribly.

Historically I haven't gotten writer's block, I've merely gotten writer's ooo-shiny!  I can spend a lot of time writing things that aren't the thing I should be writing.  But I *always* have written, facilely, to order, on inspiration, branching things to say until I have partial bits of a dozen publishable essays in the course of a day.  When I got stale on one, I'd return to another.  Or I'd go back to a thread and add even more to it.

Today is the first day since the new meds kicked in that I've felt like that again.  I don't know, but I hope it sticks.  I wrote a reasonable ream of stuff on twitter, and in email to a half dozen people on some pretty intense topics.  I started work on a journal article due at the end of the month for New Directions in Folklore on transmedia's roots in early religious material culture and myth cycles, hitting the lens of JRRT's idea of sub-creation somewhere in the middle.

It's 11pm and I expect I've written enough for the day.  An old-Shava level of output.  But hey, let me check my email one more time...
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Feb. 3rd, 2011 @ 11:22 pm Vocabulary of the Day: Interictal
Current Mood: grumpyorcicidal
I suspect from how I feel today that I was seizing in my sleep last night.  The period between seizures (which for me is probably well over 99% of the time) is called the interictal period.  As long as I'm on the dopaminergics I can deal with the feeling of my brain being full of cotton wool and sludge is something I can muscle through, whereas without the dopaminergics, regardless of the seizures, I tend to stop moving.  Meh, cotton wool is too pedestrian.  My brain:  the image of a moldy pink and white sponge sitting on the sink of an abandoned cabin, with the sink having gone drip drip drip for years without anyone there to turn it off.  For most of a year.  And then you walk in and it's the only thing you have to work with -- it ain't going to clean much.

Yet, life goes on.  I applied for some jobs, got a new social media all-but-contract (this is to say, it's at the handshake stage now), wrote some here and also on a fiction project that will probably never see the light of day, cooked a new year's dinner that was...well, passable but not my best.  I took care of the kid, who pinched a nerve last night, Fish has been feeling awful so I've been doing bits of both of their stuff, and my mom is being particularly...mom...today.

I am about to fire up Lord of the Rings Online, and pretend I don't have more stuff to do.

I told my kinship (what would be a guild if Turbine were more conventional and less preciousssss) that I wasn't going to accept an officer position until my health was better.  And at the time I told them, that might not happen.  Well, last week I was "installed" as an officer.  I guess I believe I'm better.

I mean, if you can work but it just pisses you off having to deal, trust me, that's better than it's been.

Still, I am going to spend the rest of the evening killing things.
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Feb. 3rd, 2011 @ 10:54 pm Gung Hay Fat Choy!
Current Mood: sleepyfood coma
You can put anything in a wonton wrapper.  Back in the late 70s or very early 80s, out in Sunderland, we had a couple wonton wrapping parties where we'd make a cup or a pint of different kinds of fillings, boil some, eat some, put some in the freezer for each flavor, and have them for months from the freezer.  I loved it.

Today, I made wontons with minced scallion, ginger, garlic, sichuan shredded vegetable (hot pickle), sesame seeds, minced fried tofu, maitake mushrooms, egg, shredded then minced napa, and grated daikon, along with a bit of soy, wine, sesame oil.  I forgot, but meant to put in, sichuan pepper.

They were a little bland.  I'd normally make them with pork, but Joseph's food allergy doesn't deal with supermarket pork (I have to get the spendy stuff at Whole Foods), and I honestly really missed the meat.  If I do them again this way, there will be more rich bits and more umami (savory) so there's something like the fat juicy savory bundles you get with the pork.

You wrap them kind of like a burrito.  If you have round wrappers, it's almost exactly like, but if square, you start by setting the wrapper like a diamond, putting the filling (no more than a teaspoon or so) near that bit, roll the wrapper toward the center about a third of the way, fold the sides (points in this case in toward the center, and roll it tight -- then you either smush or glue it shut with a little egg white.

If you want to be more authentic, you can put the filling in the center, roll over double just once (which should leave about 1/3 of the wrapper free) and take the two points to the sides and glue them to one another.  But for a beginner, that leaves less engineering tolerances for sloppy work. 

If they don't fall apart in the boiling water, you did it right!

The water should start out in a big pot no more than 1/2 full.  This is because you cook them by dropping them singly into lightly boiling water, then stir so they don't stick perhaps a dozen at a time -- then wait for them to float.  (roll more wontons while you wait!) When they float, put another cup of cold water in the pot, and wait until it comes to a boil again.  (rolling more wontons) Scoop the cooked wontons out with a mesh or slotted spoon, and then repeat with another dozen wontons. 

Eventually if you cook a lot at once, you'll have to scoop some water out, but generally, that's more than you're going to be able to eat with a small crowd!

We made little dishes of dipping sauce with about 3 parts soy, 1 part sesame oil, and hot sauce to taste.

The way I learned was to make a rich chicken broth, put fresh spinach leaves in the broth to wilt, pile in freshly cooked wontons (NEVER cook them in the broth!) and then garnish with a bit of minced scallion and a dribble of sesame oil.

Happy year of the bunny!
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Feb. 2nd, 2011 @ 10:27 pm Pesto Polpo
Current Music: SomaFM Space Station
About 3C of baby octopi -- and yes, I feel a little guilty eating baby genius mollusks
a pint of water

Blanche the baby octopi, leave them in the hot water to finish cooking

When cool enough to handle, cut them up, reserve liquid to boil gnocci

Cut up 1.5 bunches of scallions, small across the length

Wilt scallions in 3-5T of good olive oil

Add chopped octopi

Add a quarter cup of pesto

Boil a pack of potato gnocci in reserved liquid, add compatible stock or just water (I used water, a bit of wine, and leftover 1/2 C of chowder)
Don't boil in as much water as they recommend -- you want them to absorb the water and make a little sauce

When gnocci are well past al dente and into the gooey stage, drain a bit, and dump into the pan with all the rest

nom
















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Feb. 1st, 2011 @ 09:43 pm friends of friends who are friends
Current Mood: sillyDanny Kaye patter
Current Music: Listening to the dog lick ice from between his toes
So, someone pointed out to me, there are people here who y'all know I know, who I don't know are here, and I should know (and friend) so let me know if you know someone I know so I can friend them and they can know I know they're here.

(imagine something about bitter batter here...)

Wonder how much local LJ traffic goes up when the snows come?
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Feb. 1st, 2011 @ 08:26 pm Fish cheeks chowdah
Current Mood: hungryhungry
Current Music: NPR On Point
OK, so I just love fish cheeks -- on big fish, it's the equivalent of that tasty bit on the back of a chicken where there's a lentil of muscle with real taste and texture each side of the spine.  Same reason, too!  Birds gotta fly, big fish have to BITE.

So, in my likely first post of a series of how much I love H Mart in Burlington, I bought some very cheap haddock for chowdah there, and it was about half fish-cheeks.

Poach (don't boil) scraps of fish and about 3" of ginger root, slabbed, in water to cover.  Let cool till you can stick your fingers in.  Scoop bits out, and segregate:  skin to the dog; bones and ginger to the trash, flakes of fish to a bowl to hold.

Quarter perhaps a pint or so of small yellow potatoes, slice two medium onions thin, and maybe a scallion or two, chopped.  Add a squirt of bragg's aminos, a bit of pepper, and "italian" herbs.  Add a cup of wine and *another* 3" of ginger root, slabbed.  Slice up a scallion or three.  12 oz of sliced mushrooms.  Simmer until potatoes are soft.

Make a roux with 3T of butter, add about 3/4 of a cup of milk, then broth from the chowder-to-be until think and smooth, then return to the soup pot.  Add flaked fish to pot.  Warm (do not boil) if necessary.

Adjust seasoning.

Nom.

(served with mixed rutabagas and purple-topped turnps, boiled so I can reserve the pot likker for the cook, salad, and curry and rice for my son who won't touch the fish)
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