Longform has a roundup of Wil S. Hylton’s work; I’ve read much of it over the years, he’s really excellent. Check this one, Broken Heartland, out. You have to read how the old farmer dude beats an electric fence. The piece itself is a necessary, scary look at what’s happening across agricultural industries, from the water disappearing to the wind farms. Quite the commentary on Texas as well. Of course.
*Edit: I’ve just spent most of the day reading through these archives. Not a wasted moment: he’s written about so many great things.
I miss Maggie terribly. We all do. I’ve been trying to find a calico kitten, and it’s nearly impossible. Every time I call, they’re gone. Been making me crazy. Anyway. Yesterday, called and missed another one, but the lady at the rescue said, “we just dropped another calico off at Petsmart….” and I dropped the phone and ran.
When I got there, I found the little calico, but she was being hugged as she slept by another little dude. Turns out these two had been rescued from the streets of Cairo, Egypt, because Canada ran out of stray cats. Well, I dunno, but I’ve seen a few cats lately that have been rescued from there, so I’m guessing someone with a plane and a big heart.
I’d like you to meet Mark and Cairo. Ari named the boy. He’s announced his next three pets will be Steve, Greg and Jeff. No, I have no idea. I named Little Miss.
JoJo keeps eating the kitten food, and she’s already gained weight since Maggie died. Pea is not happy with the youngsters.
We blame stunning errors in oversight and fact-checking on newsrooms that have been hacked to the bone. This piece proves it’s nothing new; Truman Capote, trying to follow up his In Cold Blood home-run, published a piece of fiction he called a true story, and nobody blinked an eye. Until now.
The cold water pipe under my kitchen sink froze for the first time a few days ago. Roz has been helpful; she deals with this all time, so she now calls me with temperature warnings. I had to spend a few hours with a small heater facing the pipes, and the cupboard doors open. It didn’t take long, but of course, now they’ve done it once, I’ll be worried they’ll do it all the time. Last night before I went to bed, I carefully propped open the cupboard doors as a precaution. I came down an hour later, and saw them carefully closed. I opened them again. I came down this morning to find them again closed. My kids choose now to tidy up.
Roz told me I could leave a heater going if Christer was going to be up. Instead, I proposed locking Pea and JoJo in the cupboard. I told her between their body heat and bad breath, maybe the pipes wouldn’t freeze. She laughed. I told Pea and Jojo what I was thinking of doing. This was their reaction:
Great piece on the making of Thelma and Louise, which I now want to watch again. And so I will.
Took a 2015 Mustang GT to Niagara Falls today. Car is awesome; Falls pretty amazing, too.
The car is orange.
He put his little boots on.
Elsewhere on this site, one of my sisters copped to being “a little OCD” amongst other things. That’s it: open season. I read a thing I meant to send her that said she was really CDO, because that would put those letters in the right order. Her husband calls her 1234. If you have anyone in your life who is a little OCD, I guarantee you are laughing right now and will call them 1234 the next time you see them.
I haven’t been blogging; auto show was last week, and the prep and execution are a little crazy. Also been working on a project in an entirely different realm, and I have to come up with a name for it. Now, back in my old life, I could sit at a table and fling out 20 names/ideas/titles in a few minutes. Then do it again. You then sorted through them, changed this for that, and zippo wham-o, you had some choices. This time I admit to being stumped, and I’m walking around in a foggy thought bubble, randomly spewing out ideas and near-ideas. I’m making everyone nuts. This has been going on for weeks. Maybe I should call up Little Miss 1234 and ask her for advice. Speaking of zippo, wham-o, I have, of late, been seeing Batman sound bubbles as I talk to people. Don’t suggest medical intervention: I love it.
I read a piece in New York Magazine about why men think women are always flirting with them. Actually, they must have released some study because the same topic popped all over the place. They take great pains to tell you that it’s all due to hardwiring; men don’t want to miss up any chance – any – to procreate and spread their seed, so they see sexual encouragement in “hi”. Women apparently don’t want to chase off any possible good spermiscists, so we infuse our every word, including “hi” with the impact of a dry martini, a come hither look and a pushup bra. I think we should all just wear giant mood rings around our necks that shout out things like, “possibly” or “married but a scumbag” or “you’re out of my league and we both know it stop giving me false hope” or “maybe if you invest in a pair of decent shoes” or “Dad, that’s just creepy”. Seriously on that last one: there have been a couple of articles lately on normal sites about women sleeping with their fathers oh my god I can’t even, as the kids say. I’m not linking them. You can find them yourownself.
I’m driving a crazy hot orange 2015 Mustang GT this week. It’s a V8 6 speed, much show and definitely much go. The fun part? Someone pulls up beside me at a light, and you can see their face fall when they see someone’s mother driving it.
No reason. I just love it.
I watch something like The Homesman. What an amazing movie. He stars in it with Hilary Swank (she really is a stellar talent), but he also directed and co-wrote the screenplay. It’s set about a decade before the Civil War. You know how much power Jones has? Watch who opens the door near the end – when have you ever seen Meryl Streep get 17th billing on a cast? This one. And yes, that young girl is her daughter, Grace Gummer. James Spader shows up for a handful of brilliance, and if that darling waitress with a couple of on screen minutes looks familiar, it’s Hailee Steinfeld from True Grit. John Lithgow, Tim Blake Nelson, Jesse Plemmons and what would this be without Barry Corbin? This movie is spectacular. Period. The statement on the treatment of women that Jones’ makes is so raw, it’s hard to watch. But damn, if that man doesn’t just continue to be so, so impressive.