MOBIUS MICROWAVE

A mobius strip is a strip of paper, or whatever, that's joined to itself in a circle, but with a twist -- a real twist, that is. As a result, if you trace around the circle without lifting your finger -- it makes it easier to see if you use something to mark your path --you'll discover that there is only one side to this shape. One side and one edge. Just goes to show there can be just one side to a story.

So what does this have to do with a microwave?  Follow along.

When we moved into our current house, it had all new Kitchen Aid stainless steel appliances, including a microwave. We'd bought a new white one less than a year before moving and it worked perfectly, so we stashed it in the basement just in case.

As microwaves often go, the new one went in less than 2 years. Our "just in case" moved upstairs and ran reliably along for 6 years, until it died last week after cooking one last potato.

Naturally we raced out to buy a new one the next day. (Who can live without reheated coffee?) Our newly dead microwave must have been a very successful model because Panasonic still sells its twin, except in stainless steel instead of white.

It was installed that afternoon and I gave it a cup of cold coffee to warm right away. I reached to open the door with my left hand, opened to grasp a handle.

The new microwave doesn't have a handle.  It has a button that you push with the right hand, just like its white predecessor did.  Again and again, I found myself starting to extend my left hand to a non-existent handle.  Was I nuts? (Those who know me, don't answer that!)

I mentioned it to my sister, who said she was doing the same thing.  What the hell?

Then I remembered -- the microwave that came with the house had a handle, and it was stainless steel.  We last used it six years ago, during a 2-year interval between using the white no-handle one.
Somehow the mobius strip in our minds took us on single-sided trip back to the stainless steel microwave. One side.  No place for the solid six years of white no-handle.

Good Lord! What else has snapped me back in time?  Am I living my life in separated segments of time? I'll have to watch out for more mobius moments.  Meanwhile, I guess I really am living on the edge. Just one.

364 Continued

Gotta remember that t's a 364-day self-challenge, 'cause I didn't start until Jan. 2.

It's harder than I expected.

The toughest part is remembering to take a picture. Second hardest is finding a subject when I do remember, because I'm usually not in a place with an array of interesting subjects at the time, which is actually good training for a photographic 'eye'. Related to that is Third, which is not taking the way out and taking another picture of the same thing. (When it comes to my dogs, I count different activities as different things -- okay, that may be an was easy way out in some people's mind, but not mine.). Fourth is picking out the ones I like and fifth, silly as it may seem, is labelling them in the correct order -- that's cause I'm a day behind the date in counting.

So here are some more that I like.

364-day Challenge

I found a great site iPhone Photography School   -- a self-explanatory name -- which is teaching me a lot. It's a photography axiom that "The best camera is the one that's with you." and my iPhone is always with me. My big camera only comes along when I;m planning to take pictures, but most great subjects are just there while you're walking along.

The phoneographer  whose site it is talked about a challenge he gave himself: take a picture a day for 365 days. An interesting picture. He meant with your iPhone or (heresy)  another smartphone with a good camera. I've decided to take up the challenge for myself but I'm going to use both
my iPhone and my regular camera, whichever is to hand.  I didn't start 'till January 2, so this will be a 364 day challenge and I'm on day 6.

I hope I can keep it up.  I'm thinking of posting what I'm doing on Facebook so I'll have to live up to what I say I'm going to do.  If I do, I'll probably post some pictures (only the best ones).  But for the moment, I'll stick to posting them on this blog and be more lenient on myself with the quality.

Here's the first few:

Day 1

                                                                             Day2

Day 3

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

Day 6

Beardie Rant 1 (I'm sure there will be others)

I was watching the Herding Group at a big show the other week.  Hadn’t seen any of the breeds, and I was interested to see the Beardies and Cavaliers in the Groups.  

The Cavalier had been very pretty and and nicely made. Tail wagging away. Trimmed a bit, dammit -- where does the hairdressing gene come from in dog dog show exhibitors?

Then came the Herding dogs and the Beardie flew into the ring. As the dogs took their positions, my eye scanned the lineup. At first glance, the Beardie -- silver slate -- looked fine,  when my eyes screeched a halt and backed up to looked again.

Trimmed of course (that hairdressing gene again), legs carefully shaped to end straight at the ground, like an elephant’s. No toe shall appear uncovered. Hair dead straight -- are they ironed now?  

His head! Trimmed like a Dandie Dinmont, or maybe a Westie (except for the ears, of course). It created a separation between head and neck. What happened to “From cheeks, lower lips and under chin, coat increases in length towards chest, forming typical beard.” I’m sure that describes a continuous flow of hair. Or I could be wrong — the flow could run into rapids, thereby separating the cheeks from the chest.

Okay, okay, none of that affects the dog underneath.

Then they moved. Did the Beardie have a parent who was a tacky garden ornament? The kind where the legs whirl around in the wind.  His back legs did just that.

 He looked like he was riding a bike across the ground. Lots of effort, lots of leg action, going nowhere. But it sure made his rear coat fly. And he sure looked showy.

I remember seeing one of the great Beardies of the past, Ch. Wishanger Cairnbhan, moving on the other side of a hedge from me. You couldn’t tell  if he he were moving his legs or riding on a moving sidewalk, so smoothly did he gait. When he came out from behind the hedge, he fairly floated. It was effortless, relaxed and definitely not showy. He’d probably never win in the ring today.

But this dog did. He’d obviously won over Beardies, including other Champions.  I wondered what they must be like. I felt sorry for the handler who must think he had a good Beardie and would be sent to the bottom of the pack.

But of course, he wasn’t. He won the Group. At least he didn’t win Best In Show. 

And the next day, people were posting how wonderful this dog is, what a great example of the breed. Now I feel sorry for the breed.

Start at the beginning

I have no idea why I'm doing this.  My best guess is to make myself write again.

I was a writer all my life until a bipolar crash blocked it all up. Now I want to start chipping holes in that wall.  Seems to me that doing it in public may be like having a wall of needles behind me -- no backing up, Carol.

Of course, this may be my only post ever. I guess we'll find out together.