I’ve got nothing much to add to this. I wrote up a whole big post on it once and then never posted it, because honestly, my occasional tussles with depression are stubbed toes compared to what others go through. It may not always be like that. Bipolar disorder runs in my family right alongside the heart disease and cancer and Alzheimer’s. I’ve learned to watch the highs and lows with minute attention, because it’s off to the doctor the instant they cease to be within normal range. I refuse to go through what my mother did, descending into a hell we didn’t know enough to rescue her from until it was almost too late.
So, you don’t shop (or you’re done shopping), you’re sick of hanging round the house looking at relatives and leftover turkey, and you’d like to go do something interesting with your life. Possibly even with your relatives.
I haz things for ye.
Burien Little Theatre’s Inspecting Carol opens this weekend. Saturday’s date night will get you two-for-one tickets if you order by email or phone. I believe Sunday’s sold out, but the play’s on until December 18th, so you’ve got a little time. It looks hysterical – don’t miss it. I’ll be going either next Sunday or the one after – if you’re interested in heading down there with me, let me know, and we’ll make a day of it.
On Monday night, the Forum on Science and Ethics Policy has an event you might want to partake of:
FOSEP will co-host the Science on Tap talk on November 28th at 7pm at Ravenna Third Place Pub. A clinical veterinarian from SNBL (Preclinical Services for Drug Development) USA will present “Drug Safety and Animal Research – No safe alternatives”. This presentation will discuss why animals are needed for certain laboratory studies and the role of alternative solutions in animal research. Please note, that this talk does not reflect the views of FOSEP or its members in line with our non-advocacy position; however, we are excited to work with Science on Tap!
I’m hoping to make it, but I’d dedicated this weekend to the gods of NaNo. Even an atheist doesn’t fuck with them. But we’ll see if I can negotiate a temporary release.
So there you go. Things to do! People to see! Fun to be had!
As for my non-Seattle area readers, I’m afraid all you can do is look on us with envy. That, or find local events of your very own.
I’m afraid I shall have to negotiate joint custody for my car.
Most people don’t end up with these dilemmas. It’s hard enough to find one mechanic you trust, much less two. I have a mechanic I adore – Jay’s Kirkland Autocare. They’ve always done a fantastic job with no fuss and bother. Plus, they have a view of the Olympic Mountains nearby, and they’re right by the heart of downtown Kirkland, where there’s Earthlight, one of my favorite rock shops in the universe. And Lake Washington is within walking distance. I can even get my hair done. There’s nowhere better to drop ye olde auto off on a warm day.
However, they were booked solid for the week when my car threw a spectacular tantrum on Tuesday night. I have this thing about being without transportation – I hates it. And I was afraid, due to the fact that the engine had died, the steering and ignition completely locked, and the thing put on a rather amazing light show, that this repair was going to take time anyway. So I called round, and ended up having it towed to Ali’s in Woodinville. Mind you, this is Wednesday morning, right before Thanksgiving. They had openings, and they would’ve sent a mechanic to have a look at it where it had broken down if they hadn’t been too busy to spare one. Srsly. Gotta love that.
First, let me take your breath away. Just for a moment. I’ll give it back, I promise.
Sand Dunes, Oregon Coast
Back in 2010, my intrepid companion and I went geotrekking with Lockwood, and he took us to see some ethereal dunes on the Oregon coast just north of Florence. This photo comes from a viewpoint somewhere past Darlingtonia Wayside, below Seal Rock Cave. I’ve had it on my mind to write up for ages now. I still haven’t got the research done, but Brian Romans and Galileo’s Pendulum have declared Sand Dune Week, so now’s as good a time as any to tease you with a few photos, and reminisce about Sand Dunes I Have Known.
So, Thanksgiving in America. I’m finding myself thankful for a lot of things today. I’m thankful that once I finish today’s shift, I’m free for four days. So, thank you, Sarah Josepha Hale. Thank you for not giving up until we had ourselves a holiday, and for so much else besides.
Thank you, Tree Lobsters, for combining two outrages into something that pokes a sharp bit of fun at the offending idiots:
Tree Lobsters: A Very Megyn Kelly Thanksgiving
Thank you, my amazing, incredible, and deeply appreciated readers, for being the best damned group of readers on the internet. Thank you for making all this worthwhile.
Thank you, my fellow Freethought Bloggers, for bringing me on board, and making me a part of the best damned atheist and freethought collective anywhere.
Thank you, all you writers who taught me how to string a useful sentence together, and ignited me.
Thank you, my dear friends, for joining me in adventure and pulling my irons out of the fire when such becomes necessary. There are far too many of you to call out by name in this short little post, but there will be a roll call in my first book.
Thank you, denizens and creators of the internet, for all the info, without which I couldn’t find things like tasty restaurants and reliable mechanics and science blogs and those weird factoids that suddenly become essential to a scene in the wee hours of the morning when the poor research librarians are trying to sleep.
Thank you, bloggers, for pouring out your passion in prose and podcasts and pictures and video.
Thank you, OWS folks, for taking a stand.
Thank you, scientists, for figuring out how life, the universe and everything works: a journey of discovery that will probably never finish, and which has been one hell of a fun ride.
Thank you, teachers, for giving me the foundation necessary to understand what the scientists are saying, and introducing me to so very many worlds.
Thank you, Mom, Mom and Dad, for giving me this life and then helping me navigate the sometimes wickedly complicated and frequently surprising thing.
Thank you, parents and people and places and pets and all the things in this wide, wild and wonderful universe, for everything that makes this life both possible and worth the living.
When last we left labradorite, we’d discussed the fact that large bits of the Moon are composed of anorthosite. Isn’t that labradorite, you ask? And the answer is no. Not quite. Labradorite is a mineral, and anorthosite is a rock often made of it, but the two are not precisely equivalent.
I’m thrilled to say that ye olde labradorite post inspired another post at Sandatlas on just this topic: Lunar anorthosite. This is brilliant! It clarifies a lot of confusion and explains a lot about the Moon in the process.
So go read that, and enjoy some lovely pictures of anorthosite fetched down from the moon by Apollo astronauts.
Thin section photograph of Apollo 16 Rake Sample(s) 60055,4 using cross nichols light*
Lunar Ferroan Anorthosite 60025
Apollo 17 Astronaut Harrison Schmitt Collects Lunar Rock Samples
*Mind you, that’s “crossed nicols” (.pdf), despite what the caption from NASA says. Thanks to Silver Fox for the correction!
Today in the Dojo: We begin to come to grips with this hell that is description.
A long, long time ago in a Death thread far, far away, Glynis posted the following question:
I wonder if there is a way to stop before doing in cases of over description?
And I said I’d write a column on the subject someday. I keep my promises. Eventually.
I’m not the world’s expert on description. My first drafts tend for the most part to be somewhat Spartan, sometimes to the point where Wise Readers yell at me for not describing things thoroughly enough (which is a problem when you’re writing SF and supposed to be describing things beyond mortal ken). This wasn’t always the case. My early writing suffered from the verbal diarrhea: long-winded descriptions of buildings, ships, trees or what have you that stopped the story cold; inventories of characters’ appearance, flowery landscapes…. Let’s just put it this way. When it annoys even the writer, it’s too much.
Being the offspring of an Indiana farm boy/coal mine engineer, I don’t get mad, I get even. And I have applied that philosophy to description. I spent a couple of years reading every book on writing I could get my hands on. I practiced varied techniques: describe the character/leave it up to the reader, remove every other adjective, etc., until I found my happy medium between too much and too little. My first drafts got leaner and meaner. I don’t have to do as much slash-and-burn in the revisions. I find myself editing as I go, automatically, as if there’s an alarm that goes off when the description creeps up to dangerous levels and the narrative auto-corrects. Usually. When I’m lucky, anyway. No matter how good you get at this, description will probably never be easy.
That said, I’ll attempt to give you some pointers on hooking up the Over-Description Warning System, and keep it running smoothly as you’re in the throes of prose writing.
Okay, yes, I’m late. I usually post around midnight, and here it is, 4 in the ay-em. Blame the 6-day work week.
As far as why there’s so many links, you can blame the people writing interesting things.
And I know what the writers and writer watchers will say: “But, Dana, aren’t you supposed to be doing NaNo?” And the answer is yes, in a sorta-kinda-halfarsed way, yes, I am doing NaNo. But. Aunty Flow was here this week. I neverever write fiction when Aunty Flow’s around. And I’d just done a 7,000-word weekend. So I gave my wrists (most of) the week off. (And I’d just like to give a hearty thanks to the nurse practitioner at our company clinic, who gave me a miracle drug called Back Quell, which turns out to have done a bang-up job quelling the monthly misery as well.)
With that digression digressed, I give you, at long last, Los Links. Enjoy!
This did not escape my notice, but I neglected to blog it last night. Too focused on cute kittehs and trying to catch up on reading. Accretionary Wedge #39: Dress Barbie as a Geologist is now posted, and it is fabulous. We’ve got some truly creative people in the geoblogosphere!
Our server’s acting the idiot again, and I have to work on my usual day off, plus I’m needing to get some reading done for Los links, so I’m afraid there won’t be substantial posting today. Here. Have a kitty in the sunshine:
She’s enjoying one of those rare winter mornings where bouncing sunshine hurls itself against the windowpane, waking Mommy up despite heavy curtains. It’s now at an angle where it hits the bed early on, which means she doesn’t have to go through all the hard work of moving on to the floor to find a sunbeam.
Still, even the minimal effort required to find the perfect position from which to enjoy it exhausts the poor dear:
She then attempted to look too dignified for photos.
When this didn’t persuade me to stop, she attacked. I haven’t got pictures of that, because I was trying to prevent her from ripping my hands off. She’s evil. Beautiful, but evil. And when there are sunbeams, she forgets her mother is where warm laps and cat food comes from.
Dog people don’t understand why I can adore such a wee vicious evil beastie. They talk of devotion and unconditional love and affection. When I look at a dog, all I think of is barking, drooling, strange smells, and the necessity of taking the damned thing out in all weather to relieve itself. Dogs are find for them as likes ’em, and I wouldn’t mind owning a nice German Shepherd again someday. But I do so love the strange personalities, aloofness, self-sufficiency, purring, and occasional moment of conditional love interspersed with the unpredictable mayhem that kittehs provide. Keeps me humble and on me toes, that.
