another interesting tidbit

My niece Hattie heard records played for the first time last Sunday! She was awestruck -- her jaw dropped, literally, and all she could say for a few minutes was, "Wow...freaky!"

I thought that perhaps that was an experience she had not yet had in her eleven years, so I pulled my ancient, dusty record player out from under my bed (no, I'm not that old -- it was my grandfather's!) and proceeded to put in some records by Tennessee Ernie Ford, The Mamas and the Papas, Judy Garland, Vaughn Monroe, and quite a few others. She sang along with Tennessee Ernie Ford's Chrissie carols, which amused me to no end...think of the generation gap!

I put in Vaughn Monroe's record and thought it was broken; it was lurching along at this molasses-in-winter speed and sounded like a very sick cow. Hattie and I laughed so hard we cried. My mum and dad looked in the door, trying to ascertain the cause of our shrieks of laughter, then, amused, told us that we had it at the wrong speed. We flipped it up two notches to a 78 record, and then let 'er buck. That was better!

Then we left it up at 78 and put in a different record; this time it sounded like frenetic chipmunks quibbling over a leftover acorn. Again we laughed until we cried.

Ah, my Hattie is good company. We sat and played with beads together all arvo at a family gathering, then she rode back home with us and we listened to the records. After that we started watching the second half of Gettysburg, which she begged for after seeing the first half. Imagine an eleven-year-old girl wanting to see Gettysburg!

When her brothers arrived with their parents a while later, they bounced into the living room and were chattering and laughing and shrieking a kilo a minute; Hattie told them in no uncertain terms that if they wished to stay in the living room, they were to belt up, and right quick! LOL, good on ya, Hattie.

a series of interesting tidbits...

I thought I would start posting a series of little interesting tidbits. I can't really post a long blog right now because I'm in the middle of so many projects at school.

However, I will admit just sitting here typing something other than schoolwork is such therapy...ah, I could almost start purring. I can feel myself relaxing. I love doing something other than schoolwork! I cannot WAIT until I graduate in May. *sigh*

OK, first interesting tidbit: the other day, when I was going in to work, I saw a little dark-brown flattened thing in the parking lot. As I drew closer to it, I saw that it was a bug that had been smashed by a car tire. As I got even closer, I identified the bug; it was a giant water beetle, the kind that chased my mum and sisters round the pool one arvo, years and years ago. The thing was huge!! Oh my goodness. I wouldn't have wanted to be chased round a pool by something like that.

I went in and told Nell, our administrator, what was out there, and she shuddered, laughing. "We have giant centipedes in our house," she told me, and I gasped. "Ugh, awful!" I looked up a picture of a house centipede online and they are indeed scary looking creatures. Centipedus Horribilis. (OK, I made that up, I admit. I don't know Latin. Well, all right, I know a little bit. But not much. And there is no such thing as a centipedus horribilis -- I don't think.)

All right, that's all for now, folks. I am going to go relax for a few ticks. Today I had a test (Exam-us Horribilis!...all right, I'll stop now...) that, quite literally, gave me a nightmare last night. Ugh. This weekend I have to prepare for numerous projects and tests due next week...a presentation on William Styron's The Confessions of Nat Turner (O interesting and controversial subject...) on Monday, a paper due on Tuesday, and a midterm on Wednesday. Not to mention all the other reading and study guides and junk I have to do for the whole week. Gah!!! What am I DOING? Oh well, it's almost over. I shall comfort myself with that thought.

I was listening to Patrick O'Brian's The Unknown Shore on audiocassette as I drove to and from school today; it was quite entertaining (it IS O'Brian, after all). I had just reached the part where young Royal Navy seaman Jack Byron, after having been marooned on The Unknown Shore with some of his shipmates for quite some time and having nearly starved to death, got his first real meal in months; it was a fish cooked by some Native women (natives of where, I do not know for sure). He sat by the fire, drowsing, after having eaten, and reflected that when one had a roof over one's head, when one was dry and warm, and when one had eaten, one really had nothing to complain about.

I had to smile at the parallel that occurred to me; after having driven round for a week with my car's petrol needle hovering dangerously and continuously near that ominous orange "E," I finally broke down and put twenty-five US dollars of petrol in the tank. Ah, how happy I was, how perfectly contented, when I beheld that little needle rocket through limitless blackness toward the opposite end of the gauge! The feeling was, really, very like the feeling Jack Byron must have had...well, perhaps not quite. I am certainly not starving, as the scale will attest. But my bank account has not been substantially fed for quite some time now. I fear it will perish for lack of nourishment. *sigh*

Oh well, what can one do? There can only be one Donald Trump in the world -- and thank the Dear for that!!! Good heavens, does that man never look in the mirror? Can't he see how hideous that toupee looks?

All right, I'll stop now. Hope y'all's havin' a good 'un! :)