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Progress Made: Business; Progress Made: Personal

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So, a new designer came up with a really nice cover design for the adjunct rant, to be called Slave Labor: The New Story of American Higher Education. Hot dang! It looks very handsome. The e-book conversion dude is very pleased. So am I.

Slave Labor is ready to go except for the cover design; plus I need to proofread it on Kindle. It will go live first as an e-book and then as a PoD softcover.

Meanwhile, the diet guide/recipe book is also ready to go…except for the cover design. Title to be How I Lost 30 Pounds in Four Months…Without Hardly Trying. It also will appear first in e-book format and then become available as a bound book.

The novel, Fire-Rider, is also ready to go. Another designer, the former art director of Arizona Highways and a talented illustrator, is in the finishing stages of creating the cover artwork. That book needs a map (of a fictional place) and a timeline (of a fictional era…or two or three), so it’ll be awhile before it arrives on the market.

And I continue to try to struggle through the next book in the Fire-Rider series…around more work, more hassle, and more ditz than the human mind can conceive.

Client with the book that we hope will go to the University of California Press was back today with a fairly thoroughgoing revision. It’s looking good. But it occupied a chunk of time for which a lot of other demands were competing.

The puppy continues her stealth peeing. She pees by mental telepathy: she’s on one side of a room and magically a puddle appears all the way on the other side. So on the advice of people at the corgi forum where I hang out, I consulted with a trainer. Got a “free demonstration”…another term for “sales pitch.” This outfit, which uses a remote vibration collar, charges upwards of $600 to persuade your hound to be a gooood doggy. Way upwards. They charge $225 for the collar alone, which you can buy for less than a third of that on Amazon or through a pet store. Free instructions for use are scattered from one end of the Web to the other.

Interesting. But it consumed an hour of time that should’ve been used otherwise. Another half-hour or 45 minutes was wasted at the Corporation Commission website where, as per usual, the form to file this year’s annual report didn’t work. Onward to trying to get through the day’s challenges:

√ Wash laundry
√ Dust
√ Clean bathrooms
√Walk 2 miles
√ Download stock photos for cookbook; send to designer
√ Wash comforter, store for summer
√ Connect Kindle to wireless; figure out how to work it
Send secret codes to e-book guru
Find out about westside writer’s group membership
Write the rest of current Fire-Rider scene
Start a chart of ongoing events in that series
√ Call grill guy, make appointment
√ Take pool cleaner to Leslie’s, get fixed
Clean and shock-treat pool
Figure out what’s wrong with watering system; fix it
Prepare Cassie’s veggies
√ Shovel out office
√ Fertilize and deep-water citrus
√ Get rid of old blue backwash hose
Clean floors; steam-clean floors
File S-corp’s annual report
√ Wrap gift for M’hijito & do birthday card
Check for more maga-writing student papers

A-a-a-a-a-a-a-n-d just as I reached this point, about two hours ago, Tina sent her part of the latest opus, in which she tried to figure out a complicated tangle: three single-spaced pages of 10-point type, 75 end-notes that sort of imitate Chicago’s notes-&-bibliography references. What a mess. She looked up every single reference and couldn’t find some of them. I looked up the ones she flagged and found a few, but others: ?????????

It is now midnight and, as you can see, I have not finished this post. As I have not finished many of the things that needed or wanted to be done today.

I give up. I’m going to bed. Tomorrow I have to get up and sing.

Endless Thrashings-About

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Haven’t had a chance to post here because every minute that hasn’t been occupied with work has been occupied with dead exhaustion.

A difficult Chinglish scholarly paper arrived early in the week. That took two full days (by full, we mean something like 12 hours) to plow through. Then, an amazing development:

Another pair of clients had interested the University of New Mexico Press in a (wonderful!) anthology they’ve been working on for the past year or two. UNM had said to send it along — actually, I thought they had a contract, but apparently not — and they were just ready to finish the introduction (the last piece) when they got an e-mail saying the press had decided they had too many collections in their backlist and so…good luck with that!

Well, as you can imagine, they were dismayed.

Within the hour, though, along comes another message, this one from University of California Press. UC Press wants to see it!

This is exceptionally good news: UC Press is a top-tier academic publisher, which UNM Press is not. I’ve felt from the outset that the book should have been sent to UC — it’s that good — and I’d put money on it that the press will grab the thing. So we’re looking at a cloud with a solid gold 24-carat lining. If UC picks the book up, it will make both co-editors’ careers. One of them will soon go up for full; with a publication like that, she can’t lose.

At any rate, they’d like to be ready to send the thing off by Monday morning, and the intro is far from ready to go. They’d spent a week or two banging it out, but by Tuesday it was still a little on the draftig side. So it took a couple of days to plow through that and make some recommends.

Wednesday a new pool guy showed up, me having grown royally tired of Leslie’s. The filter needed to be taken apart and cleaned.

Apparently it’s is a more difficult job than it appears to be…this is the second fly-by-night pool guy who screwed it up. He puts it back together, turns it on, and lo! It’s still running at 20 psi.

I say, lookit, that thing is suppose to run at 10 psi. Twenty psi is way, way too high…as in “shut it down!”

He says no it’s not…as a pool gets older it runs at a higher psi.

Well, this is clear and present bullshit, and I figure he knows it as well as I do. It is true that the water’s running through pretty briskly (normally at 20 psi it barely moves), but it still should NOT run at 20 psi.

The guy has dumped DE directly into the skimmer inlet without running it through the skimmer basket. You’re supposed to put the skimmer basket in and let it kind of sieve the DE. Otherwise the powder can clump up and clog the filter, which is probably exactly what happened.

So now that thing needs to be taken apart  again and cleaned again and another $100 service charge will be incurred. I am pissed.

But I’m still not calling Leslie’s. Yesterday I found a functioning number for Swimming Pool Service and Repair, so I’m calling them in another couple of hours, whenever business hours resume.

The guy also told me that not only is it illegal to replace a single-cycle pump with a  new single-cycle pump, it’s illegal for a pool service to fix a single-cycle pump. He claimed Leslie’s was liable for a $500 fine because their kid replaced the capacitor.

I think that’s highly unlikely, because Leslie’s has fixed that pump before in recent months. And it just doesn’t seem likely that they could pass some law that says you cannot repair something that you already own. Really: that would be unacceptable in the bluest of blue states…and Arizona is not a place that could be called, by any stretch of the imagination, “progressive.” I simply do not believe the wackos in the state legislature, most of whom are climate change deniers, would even think of passing any such energy-saving legislation, no matter how much the swimming-pool lobby paid them under the table.

But that notwithstanding, by yesterday I had to run some errands. Because I refuse to let the community college district have my bank routing and account numbers after they gave all that information and then some some (make that “and then LOTS MORE”) to hackers, now I have to physically deliver my hard-copy paychecks to the credit union. That entails a long drive and so I save up tasks that can be done vaguely on that side of town.

So after the morning junket to Scottsdale, I had to come back here, let the puppy out to pee, lock her back up, and head on out to the westside. Credit union, Lowe’s, gasoline at the Costco in that direction.

Traffic has become just fierce in this part of town. Don’t know why. After the white middle class moved to the suburbs, the streets in the central part of the city actually quieted down significantly. For years, it’s been like driving around in a small town (albeit a small town with a meth habit). But recently, the streets have been jammed!

I guess it’s a good sign: presumably it means commerce is humming along again, at long last, and people have jobs to go to. During the recession, traffic fell way, way off all over the city, because nobody could afford to shop and nobody had work to commute to. That no longer seems to be the case. The roads are packed all day long, and as usual, about a third of one’s fellow drivers are homicidal maniacs.

So it seemed to take for-freaking-EVER to get through those three small errands. About two or two-and-a-half hours to get accomplish three minor chores.

Got about three hours’ worth of sleep between 10:30 p.m. Wednesday and 5:30 a.m. Thursday. So decided to go back to bed for a little siesta along about 2:00 p.m.

Put the pup in her crate, climbed over the barricade I put across the closet door to keep her from consuming my shoes, hung up some clothes, stepped back out toward the bed…and fell over the damn barricade contraption.

Thumped down on the tile floor, got my leg tangled in the contraption, thought I’d fractured an ankle.

{sigh}

Scooted over to the nightstand so as to pick up the walkaround phone and call 911.

No phone.

{sigh}

So started to drag myself across the floor and up the hall to try to find a phone in the living room that I could knock onto the floor and of course scooted…right into another puddle of dog pee!!!!

Jeez. This puppy is now three months old and shows no sign of ever becoming house-trained. She’s OK with No. 2, but the stealth peeing continues apace. I’m pretty sure she knows she’s supposed to go out. She just won’t. So much easier to sneak around a corner and deposit a puddle indoors.

One nice thing about being dunked in dog pee is that it shakes you up enough so you get past your ankle hurting.

So I called the vet to see if they would test her for a urinary tract infection, which is common among corgis. Even corgi pups. They want to stick a needle in her bladder to extract urine. That sounds gawdawful. There’s no way I can catch her to shove a pie tin under her little butt (can you imagine that trick? 😀 ), so some such procedure would be required. But I very much doubt that’s the issue: she shows no other symptoms of a UTI. This sounds like yet another expensive vet bill for naught.

Opinion at the corgi board is mixed. Some think she should be tested. Others say she’s way too young to house-train — that puppies are not ready for house-training before three or four months.

Since I house-trained a golden retriever in two days at the age of nine weeks, I rather doubt that.

At any rate, she’s 13 weeks old, which is three months.

Others on this board describe having corgi puppies that were not trained until they were six or seven months old!!!

That is insane.

These folks say she needs to be kept locked up or on a leash at all times, until she’s old enough (by their lights) to get the idea. They say she should literally never be out of the human’s sight, except when she’s locked in her crate at night or when the human is out shopping.

{sigh}

I will say that for the first six or eight months (longer?) of the Anna the German Shepherd’s life, I had her tied to the kitchen doorknob or to me by a leash. But that wasn’t because of house-training issues. It was because she was so incredibly destructive. This was a dog that ate an arm off a brand-new leather chair. She chewed the leg off a piece of furniture. She tried to chew up the kitchen cabinetry. This puppy is not destructive. Yet.

Right now Cassie and Pup are having a huge wrestling match. Very silly!

So anyway, as usual, I haven’t managed to break free time to do the things I want to do. The current chapter of the current novel remains unfinished. The negotiations over the cover for the adjunct rant are at a standstill. The cover for the novel that’s ready to publish is still unfinished. The cover designer can’t spell my name(!). I haven’t had time to establish blogsites for the three upcoming books, or to do any of the several things remaining to do to get those ready for “publication.” If that’s what mounting these things on Amazon can be called.

Must say I was a little dismayed when Crystal of Budgeting in the Fun Stuff reported, in her latest newsletter, a vast $55 revenue for last month’s sales of her How I Make Money Blogging e-book.

Uh huh. At that rate, the so-called “magic number” of eight published e-books, which I hope to hit by the end of 2015, would fall far, far short of the net ten grand I need to earn on these things. Eight books pulling in $55 a month would gross a grandiose $5,280 a year. And that just doesn’t make it.

Welp, speaking of making money, it’s already 7:15 and I haven’t billed the Chinese client, haven’t figured out what part of the various paying projects to start on next, haven’t even looked at the magazine-writing course’s site (at least one set of papers was due by today)… And so, to work.

 

Can’t Complain…I Suppose…

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Worked until 12:30 this morning — starting around 9:00 a.m. yesterday. Untangled 38 pages of endlessly arcane Chinglish, a scholarly paper by a contributor to a journal whose editors have started sending their authors in my direction.

Chinese scholars have to write their dissertations in English, and they’re expected to publish their research results in English-language journals. This practice is so pervasive that entire series of academic journals, published in the US, exist to serve them. Imagine how extraordinary that is: most American graduate students no longer learn a single foreign language, and could no more express themselves in Chinese than they could converse with a Martian. Legions of young American academics can’t read, write, or speak even a Western European language, to say nothing of an Asian one.

So, as an editor I’m spectacularly privileged to be able to help brilliant young scholars publish their research in a language as foreign to them as Klingon is to me, and to help extraordinary young men and women launch careers, at least a few of which will in fact benefit all of humanity. How selfish IS it of me to complain?

But complain and whine I do.

My god, some of this stuff is difficult! What can I say? JPEGs speak louder than words…

chinglishedits

It’s impossible to get all this stuff in one intelligible screenshot that converts to WordPress in a visible manner. Click on the image for a better clue of what’s going on there.

Oh…what is it? THAT is a picture of the endless series of edits and comments in the margin of one page from yesterday’s magnum opus.

Is there any question why I can’t get any of my own work done?

Then we have the issue of the insufferably skittish MS Word. Or Wyrd, as I prefer to call it, referring to the Old English antecedent of our weird.

Two things will make a Wyrd file unstable:

a) Asian characters;
b) tables.

This one had both.

Worst of all is when the author has tried to get cute with a table: inserted things like images, graphs, or bulleted lists within the cells. This author came up with bulleted lists, strange and intricate structures, and a variety of font sizes ranging down to Times New Roman 7.5.

That’s right: 7.5 points. We call that sub-microscopic.

A table like this will cause Wyrd to suffer a catastrophic crash. Not just the file you’re working on goes down, but every file that’s up at the time crashes and loses data!

Well, I’m multitasking all the time, and I usually have several files open because a) I don’t want to have to close out and then track the damn things down in the vast innards of a very old, very mature filing system and b) I like to have something lighter to work on for a few minutes when I need to take a break from the truly mind-numbing stuff.

This project took a day and a half to complete. I’ll get paid about $200 for it. Honestly. I could probably earn more working at WalMart and not end up with a headache.

Oh, that’s not fair: yesterday the dogs decided to take a siesta, and that struck me as a pretty good idea, so I crawled into the sack during the heat of the day, too. Slept two or three hours. And had a lovely meal of grilled ribeye, roasted potatoes, gigantic salad that included grilled asparagus, heart of palm, and much else. But still. I made up for all that loafing by working until 12:30 a.m.

Just as I arrived at the bottom of the LAST PAGE, Word crashed.

This, even though I’d cut all the tables out and pasted them into a separate file, which I’d saved and closed.

Word crashed, took down the Chinglish file I was working on, and shut and lost data in EIGHT other active files. Including chapter 3 of the second book of the Fire-Rider series, in which I had almost finished a new scene.

This, even though I had Wyrd set to save every 10 minutes. Even though I hit “Save” manually every time I think of it, which believe me, is often.

Thanks to the way the Mac works, the system brought up eight ghost files, unnamed, one of which contained the lost data for the novel’s chapter. But this meant I had to crash out of eight named files, then take each of the unnamed files, figure out which ones contained rescued data, and save those back down to the directories and subdirectories where the lost files came from.

One of the eight, of course, was not the Chinglish research report.

That thing lost about a third of my edits: hours of work.

So I had to go back in and do all that over again.

Then the other file, the one now holding the graphics, remained to be edited. That’s SIX PAGES of fine-print tables and graphs.

ChinglishTable

I decided I was NOT gonna go into the elaborately decorated tables and try to format them, because of course this would cause my system to go down again. Let Author wrestle with her own system crashes! Instead, I explained to her what she needed to fix and sent the damn thing back to her.

Well, there’s a silver lining. Two of ’em, actually:

• For the first time in recorded memory, Pup did not pee on the floor. That’s because I carried the laptop out to the back porch and stayed out there all day and into the night, working. So she didn’t pee on the floor her usual half-dozen times because she was never ON the floor.

• And I lost 2/10 of a pound. That was because I didn’t have time to eat dinner.

This morning the back is so spavined I can barely move. So now it’s time to stop this scribbling, lock up the dogs, and go for a two-mile walk to shake loose the superannuated bones.

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be editors!

99 Questions

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Holy sh!t. Did you see Crystal’s answers to the 99 questions meme? It is completely, totally, incredibly off the wall. Just the idea that the owner of a Vast Blogging Empire would take time to write answers to 99 questions is in itself off the wall (that’s old-folks’ talk for “jumping the shark,” for you young pups). But the answers are just freaking hilarious.

Let’s see what ensues when an Old Bat tries to answer the questions.

1. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?
Open. It’s too much work to get up and close the door. However, I do have a puppy  barricade strung between the doorjambs, since one of us has taken eating shoes.

2. Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel?
Hotel? You can afford to stay in hotels? Well, I suppose I would, but that’s probably not the sort of dive I’d stay in.

3. Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out?
In. Cassie the Corgi sleeps on my feet, so I can’t kick around enough to yank them out.

4. Have you ever stolen a street sign before?
No. Why?

5. Do you like to use post-it notes?
I could not remember my name if I didn’t have a Post-It stuck on the computer to remind me.

6. Do you cut out coupons but then never use them?
I have neither the energy nor the time to devote to couponing. Which is another way of saying I never get around to cutting out coupons. Wouldn’t that require you to subscribe to a local paper? I refuse to pay for that useless rag.

7. Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees?
Bear, any day. Got a nice .45 that will scare the poor little gal off. And bear bells. Lots of bear bells.

8. Do you have freckles?
We call those “age spots.”

9. Do you always smile for pictures?
No. I threaten photographers with murder if they try to snap my photo.

10. What is your biggest pet peeve?
Adjunct teaching.

11. Do you ever count your steps when you walk?
I have, actually. Then I realized how weird that was and so…well, stopped.

12. Have you ever peed in the woods?
Many, many times.

13. What about pooped in the woods?
Fewer times, but plenty of times.

14. Do you ever dance even if there’s no music playing?
Well sure. Doesn’t everyone?

15. Do you chew your pens and pencils?
No. Quit that at about the age of 12.

16. How many people have you slept with this week?
Do dogs count?

17. What size is your bed?
Queen

18. What is your Song of the week?
This stupid hymn whose title I don’t remember but whose tune I can NOT get out of my head!

19. Is it okay for guys to wear pink?
Absolutely. I love men who aren’t afraid to wear pink.

20. Do you still watch cartoons?
Not so much.

21. Whats your least favorite movie?
I quit watching movies when mega-violent became S.O.P.  Oh, but my LEAST fave? Love Story. It was so embarrassing. I was the only person in the theater who burst out laughing when the sappy actor enunciated, “Love is never having to say you’re sorry.” Har har har!

22. Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some?
In the bank.

23. What do you drink with dinner?
Bourbon and water.

24. What do you dip a chicken nugget in?
Nothing. Who on earth would eat such a toxic thing?

25. What is your favorite food?
Prime ribeye steak.

26. What movies could you watch over and over and still love?
N/A, I’m afraid.

27.  Last person you kissed/kissed you?
SDXB

28.  Were you ever a boy/girl scout?
Not a chance.

29.  Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine?
Uhm…what magazine, and what’s the fee? Do I get royalties?

30.  When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper?
Gosh. I can’t remember that far back.

31.  Can you change the oil on a car?
Probably. But there must be better things to do with the few moments of life left to us.

32.  Ever gotten a speeding ticket?
Who, me? 😉

33.  Ever ran out of gas?
I’m afraid so. Was driving my (then)-husband’s truck, whose gas gauge was set up exactly in reverse of my Camry’s. Setting out on the open road, I thought it said 3/4 full. It actually said 1/4 full. Oops!

34.  Favorite kind of sandwich?
I’m not nuts about sandwiches.

35.  Best thing to eat for breakfast?
Grilled steak, grilled potatoes, and grilled tomatoes, with coffee and a glass of champagne.

36.  What is your usual bedtime?
Ideally? Around 9 p.m. In reality? Around midnight.

37.  Are you lazy?
Hell, yeah.

38.  When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween?
Witch. So appropriate, as it developed. 😀

39.  What is your Chinese astrological sign?
Not knowing, I’d hesitate to state for fear of being erroneous.

40.  How many languages can you speak?
Four.

41.  Do you have any magazine subscriptions?
New York Review of Books.

42.  Which are better legos or lincoln logs?
Oh, Legos. No question of it.

43.  Are you stubborn?
Sometimes.

44.  Who is better…Leno or Letterman?
Letterman. Well. Letterman is kind of mean. If you prefer non-mean, then Leno.

45.  Ever watch soap operas?
Used to be an addict. Now watch Desperate Housewives, which is a variety of soap, on Netflix.

46.  Are you afraid of heights?
Not especially.

47.  Do you sing in the car?
All. The. Time.

48.  Do you sing in the shower?
Yesh.

49.  Do you dance in the car?
Say what?

50.  Ever used a gun?
Yup.

51.  Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?
About in 2000.

52.  Do you think musicals are cheesy?
Well, I kind of liked Jesus Christ, Superstar and Oh, Calcutta. Otherwise, it’s not my favorite genre.

53.  Is Christmas stressful?
Not anymore. It used to be sheer hell. Old age mellows one, though.

54.  Ever eat a pierogi?
What on earth is it?

55.  Favorite type of fruit pie?
yuch.

56.  Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?
Astrophysicist.

57.  Do you believe in ghosts?
Naaah.

58.  Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?
Only in childhood. My mother believed I was the reincarnation of her mother, because when I was very little I could “remember” things that only her mother knew. woooWOOOOOwooo!

59.  Take a vitamin daily?
Not on your life.

60.  Wear slippers?
Too much hassle. In winter I wear socks to bed and will schlep around the first thing in the morning wearing those.

61.  Wear a bath robe?
No.

62.  What do you wear to bed?
I don’t suppose we should discuss that. It could frighten the children.

63.  First concert?
Can’t remember back that far.

64.  Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?
Target

65.  Nike or Adidas?
Danskos.

66.  Cheetos Or Fritos?
EeeeeeYUCK!!!!!!!!!

67.  Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?
Peanuts.

68.  Ever hear of the group Tres Bien?
Mais non. Dear lord…just think, someday this will be a golden oldie. Talk about your dystopic future…

69.  Ever take dance lessons?
Gawd help us, my mother once made me take ballroom dancing. She thought it might add a veneer of civilization. Didn’t work. Scared a bunch of pre-adolescent boys, though.

70.  Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?
Future spouse? What is that?

71.  Can you curl your tongue?
Yes. Why would I want to, though?

72.  Ever won a spelling bee?
Of course.

73.  Have you ever cried because you were so happy?
No.

74.  Own any record albums?
Are CDs the same as record albums? If so, a ton of them. All the vinyl is gone, though.

75.  Own a record player?
No longer.

76.  Regularly burn incense?
Ech!

77.  Ever been in love?
Off and on.

78.  Who would you like to see in concert?
Not knowing, I’d hesitate to state (etc.)

79.  What was the last concert you saw?
Phoenix Chorale (an Emmy-award-winning vocal ensemble)

80.  Hot tea or cold tea?
Six of one, half a dozen of t’other.

81.  Tea or coffee?
Coffee, coffee, coffee.

82.  Sugar or snickerdoodles?
Neither, thank you.

83.  Can you swim well?
Pretty damn well.

84.  Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?
Of course.

85.  Are you patient?
Depends on the context. Less and less, the older I get. Except in the medical sense…

86.  DJ or band, at a wedding?
String quartet.

87.  Ever won a contest?
Yes. Won a trip to Mt. Palomar when I was in junior high school.

88.  Ever have plastic surgery?
No. I’m not into unnecessary surgery, and have been fortunate enough never to have suffered a disfiguring injury.

89.  Which are better black or green olives?
Black.

90.  Can you knit or crochet?
Used to. Forgot how.

91.  Best room for a fireplace?
Bedroom. Or bathroom. Our choir director and his partner have a fireplace right next to the sybaritic bathtub. Dang!

92.  Do you want to get married?
Whatever for?

93.  If married, how long have you been married?
20 years, before achieving freedom.

94.  Who was your HS crush?
Alan, the track star.

95.  Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way?
No.

96.  Do you have kids?
If the person is 37, does he still qualify as a “kid”?

97.  Do you want kids?
Thank god I’m past that phase.

98.  Whats your favorite color?
Purple.

99.  Do you miss anyone right now?
Nope.

McCutcheon: Funny Takes Out a Loan

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The Supreme Court’s ruling in McCutcheon v. Federal Election Commission has engendered another of Funny’s inspired entrepreneurial schemes. By golly, this may be my best idea yet! But first I’ll need a little seed money. Hence, it was off to the credit union for a loan.

FUNNY: I’d like to borrow ten million dollars, please, to support my new business enterprise. Here’s the business plan. [FUNNY hands a sheaf of paper to LOAN OFFICER.] You’ll see the profit this will turn within the next four years.

LOAN OFFICER: Ten million? That’s quite a lot for a start-up. Would you mind summarizing this 150-page document and telling me exactly what the ten mill will be used for?

FUNNY: I wish to purchase a United States senator.

L.O.: Ah! Well, that’s a very fine idea. But you’re not the first to apply for a loan for this purpose. Which of our Congressional delegation do you propose to buy?

FUNNY: Actually, none of them. I wouldn’t have any of those dunderheads. My plan is to run a candidate that has a brain.

L.O.: Now there’s a unique idea.

FUNNY: Yes. I thought so, too.

L.O.: What do you propose to put up for collateral?

FUNNY: The proceeds from five defense contracts should cover it, wouldn’t you think?

L.O.: Oh, I should say so. Do you suppose you could throw in a little easing of the new mortgage regulations?

FUNNY: We’ll definitely look into that.

L.O.: [Studies gigantic sheaf of paper presented by FUNNY] Hm. This is very interesting. But…

FUNNY: “But…”???

L.O.: Well, I wonder if maybe you’re not thinking big enough.

FUNNY: How much bigger can you think? We’re talking about a Senator of the United States of America, the vastest hegemony in the history of the entire human race!

L.O.: What if you were to purchase a United States President? We would consider fronting you about 8 billion dollars for that purpose.

FUNNY: My goodness. I’m not sure I could afford a loan of that size. What would the interest be?

L.O.: 4.325 percent.

FUNNY: Four percent on 8 billion dollars? The credit union will be rolling in ill-gotten gains. How about 3 percent?

L.O.: Okay, okay: 3.586 percent. That’s our best offer.

FUNNY: What kind of collateral can we come up with for an 8 billion-dollar loan?

L.O.: Fifteen defense contracts, the new president’s first-born son, and your eternal soul.

FUNNY: Excellent! Done! We’re in business.

L.O.: Sign here, please.

 

KJG’s Irises!

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About three years ago (more, maybe?), my beloved friend KJG gave me a couple of handfuls of bearded iris bulbs from her beautiful garden out at Waddell. KJG has an amazing green thumb, the result of which is a very lovely acre up against the White Tank Mountains.

Well, “green” is not the adjective we’d apply to either of my thumbs. Some of the bulbs went into the ground out front and some went into a big pot near the westside patio, where I hoped they would add to the decor.

All of them sprouted into nice, healthy-looking plants, but none showed any interest in blossoming. Eventually KJG remarked that iris are not fond of living in pots. So, agreeing that they did look a little peakèd, I pulled them out of the Miracle-Gro Fake Soil and stuck them in the dirt here and there around the yard.

The rescued pot-dwellers have survived, despite being transplanted at an infelicitous moment in their plant life-cycle.

But lo! The ones that went in under the olive tree on the front patio have bloomed in gay profusion!

I think they were inhibited by olive’s thick shade. When I had that tree pruned this winter, enough sunlight got through to the ground to make the iris happy. And so, here’s what we have…

As usual, click on the image (twice!) for higher resolution and bigger size.