educational programming

Last night Matt and I stayed up too late catching the encore showing of Part 1 of the Ken Burns/Lynn Novick documentary Prohibition. We also drank a little Maker's Mark in honor of the occasion. The first episode addressed the basis and rise of the prohibition movement.

What stood out in particular to me is that while people tend to think of prohibition as a conservative movement steeped in our Puritan roots, it was actually a very progressive movement, believed to be a way to rid the country of slums and end poverty. It really united religious and non-religious (the picture above is of women demonstrating in support of prohibition laws), and it was thought that a prohibition amendment would usher in a utopian era of peace and prosperity. But according to the documentary, the same day the amendment passed, liquor was stolen from various locations in Chicago.

We're about to start Part 2, which picks up as Prohibition begins. I believe we'll be drinking "sacramental" wine in keeping with the spirit. I love American history, and since starting to homebrew I've become increasingly interested in our alcohol laws, which are tied to the end of Prohibition, so this is particularly interesting to me. Plus: organized crime and the Roaring 20's! Glamorous! 

Things are coming into focus...

I love too much music to be able to truly commit and label any single band as my "favorite." That said, my favorite band is Heartless Bastards.  Erika Wennerstrom gives word and voice to feelings and ideas I am only partially aware of until I she plays and sings them.

The songs resonate with me so strongly, that I've adopted "Into The Open" (a song on the 2006 album, "All This Time") as my personal anthem. I've seen Heartless Bastards live twice: once this year in Portland, OR; and once in May of last year at my favorite local music venue, The Casbah.

So when I decided to look for a good video of Heartless Bastards playing "Into the Open" in honor of trying to re-launch my journey of self-discovery and whatnot, imagine my joy at finding them playing MY song at the Casbah the night I was there. What?! Yes! It's amazing! Kismet! Destiny! Listen right now!

 (the intro to the actual song starts at about 55 seconds, and goes until about 5+ minutes into the video)

If at first you don't succeed, blahblahblah

So here I am AGAIN. Promising myself (as no one else reads this, because I do not write anything) to write consistently (and then maybe I'll start inviting people to read). All I've blogged this year are a couple YouTube videos. Sigh. But there is no point in berating myself over the past. Onward and upward and so forth. 

To help me with this goal I am participating in Blogtoberfest, committing to post every day for the month of October. Eep. Public commitment. Scary. 

Of course the beginning is easy! I get to do this obligatory Blogtoberfest introductory post! Sweet! The tough part--deciding what to post about, preparing pictures, making time, etc--starts Monday. But I'm-a do it!

As a warm up I've done a few posts about the adventure of finding and adopting our cat, and back-dated them because that's my prerogative. Heh.  

So here it goes. One down, 30 to go. 

menu planning

He's so helpful! Too much? Heh. I couldn't resist.

Settling in...

Hamilton seems to be settling right in here. The poor baby was covered with fleas when we found him, and consequently: flea bites. When I first held him I could feel a number of small, grody, little crusty-scabby things under his fur, but by the time he came home he just had one on his little forehead, and a few on his body. He was flaky and still pretty grimy when we brought him home--I was afraid he'd need an actual bath in the sink eventually, or a spray shampoo extravaganza to hold us over until we could bathe him (10 days after surgery).

Fortunately I found a Furminator kitten brush on clearance, and within 24 hours his fur was already much less flaky and dusty, and was even well on it's way to glossy. I mean, as glossy as a scruffy/shaggy kitty can be. Some of his fur is silvery, so maybe "shiny" is closer than "glossy." Either way, marked improvement. Today he's as soft and clean as any indoor kitty. Good job, Hamilton!

I am blown away by how friendly and affectionate he is. My second cat growing up was a feral kitten from a litter born under my grandparents' house (or barn, or in their wood pile, or one of the other various places their cat gave birth). And while she was an excellent hunter (thanks for keeping the roof rats away, Cleo) and devoted to me in her way, she was also aloof and skittish and strange with the rest of the family, and outright terrified of strangers, until she was well over 5 years old. I didn't know what to expect from an alley kitten wrested from the depths of a hot, dirty engine.

But Ham follows us around, and will try to climb into our laps while we work, unless we make him a little bed on a chair next to us. He snuggles and naps in my lap on the couch, and sleeps on the extra pillow above my head at night. Of course he's a kitten, so that also means he bites and scratches and climbs our legs and thinks it's the Most Fun Ever, but he'll grow out of that (eventually. Not soon enough.), and his sweetness and playfulness makes up for the lacerations and puncture wounds for the most part. Haha.

Seriously though, I can tell he's going to be an awesome cat. The vet says he's healthy, and he's getting all his shots, so he should be part of our family for a long time. Matt never wanted a cat, and I would never have chosen a kitten, but he chose us and turns out he's exactly what we needed in our little family. I know, enough mushy sappiness. <3 <3 <3